Albus Dumbledore's POV.

Albus Dumbledore walked slowly through the corridors of the Department of Mysteries, approaching the office of the Head of the Department of Mysteries. Today he was going to have an important conversation, on which much depended.

"Albus Dumbledore. To see the Head of the Department of Mysteries at his personal invitation," he informed the humanoid golem secretary.

"You are expected. You may pass on," the golem answered him.

He approached the door, which immediately slid aside, like a photocell door in a Muggle store. He went inside. The office was clean and tidy. In some ways, it reminded him of the workplace of Barty Crouch Sr. At the desk sat a man in a mask and robes, who could easily be mistaken for a Death Eater. Only the design of the mask was completely different. Compared to Albus, the owner of the office seemed to be colorblind—black, white, and shades of gray. Nothing more.

"Hello, Albus. You may sit down," the owner of the office said, pointing to a chair.

"Hello, Alison," he replied. "Thank you, I will stand."

"No one has called me that for a long time. According to official documents, the person you named died outside of Wizarding England a very long time ago. Moreover, disclosing the identity of the head of the Department of Mysteries is a serious violation."

"And what should I call you?" Albus asked.

"According to the regulations, I am the 'Head of the Department of Mysteries.' But my subordinates usually call me 'Mask.'"

"Strange. Knowing you, I expected something like 'Turquoise Helmet' or 'Brilliant Mind,'" Albus suggested out loud.

"The mask is black on the outside, and lined with turquoise metal on the inside, blocking Legilimency. But almost no one is supposed to know about this. And about the 'brilliant mind'—we have not been at school for a long time; I have already given up trying to prove that I am better than you."

The wizarding world is very small. If you are a great wizard and do not hide from life under the Fidelius at the bottom of a lake, you personally know all the other great wizards. Another young man entered Hogwarts at the same time as Albus. He was a Ravenclaw. He was predicted to have a great future and would have become the most famous wizard of his generation, regularly getting the maximum in all tests and exams. But Albus Dumbledore was the best—the best in everything in magical England. And there is no prize for second place in the magical world. When Albus refused the offered position of Head of the Department of Mysteries, Alison became the youngest Head of the Department of Mysteries—before he even turned forty.

"I have come to talk to you, old friend," Albus said. "But before I begin, I need to know if you have anything to tell me. Anything."

Albus assumed the most relaxed and casual pose, trying to pretend to be Santa Claus. With his right hand, he felt the Elder Wand in his pocket, and with his left hand, he felt the artifact for communication with Moody. He had been thoroughly investigating the incident of the robbery of the Department of Mysteries. Alison was innocent. But later, he had a conversation with an agent of Voldemort, which he did not inform either the Minister of Magic or the Head of the Auror Office, Alastor Moody. That is why Albus was ready to remove the Head of the Department of Mysteries right now.

"There is a lot I want to discuss with you. The list of things that were stolen from us. Alastor Moody's latest attempts to squeeze a super-weapon against the Nameless One out of us. This time he has his eye on the Tibelum sphere. Its explosion will wipe out half of London, and I have no idea how to maintain the Statute of Secrecy after using it, not to mention that it is, in fact, Dark Magic. I am also tired of his attempts to install listening devices in my office. Once a week, I give him all the most valuable, as the Muggles call it... 'bugs.'"

"We will discuss all of this today. But that is not the main thing, Albus. The Nameless One contacted me through the face under the Imperius. And I have decided to refuse him. Only, unlike the story with you and your brother, I had enough sense to give a pretended consent!"

Alison looked at Albus expectantly, but Albus was in no hurry to relax.

"Motive? Why did you refuse?" he asked.

"Albus, I am an educated civilized man! Torture, murder, this is all not for me!" they answered him. "My moral and ethical principles do not allow me to do this!"

"But seriously? As life experience tells me, education only provides a scale for inhuman experiments and justification for terrible methods," said Albus. "And the history of human civilizations is when one civilization destroys another, usually along with the population. A person is inclined to extend all moral and ethical principles only to his own. Therefore, when his children starve, it is bad, but when those who are a thousand miles away, it is normal."

"I don't want to get involved with a madman... Moreover, the destruction of people is very destructive, both for the individual and for society as a whole," they answered him. "And anyway, I have never practiced Dark Magic and have never done anything illegal!"

Albus stood there, thinking. "Let's do it this way: I'll take off my mask, and you'll subject me to Legilimency? You know that I can't master absolute protection of the mind; you'll understand if I'm lying and joined the Death Eaters."

Albus Dumbledore nodded. Alison took off his mask. Under it was the face of a very ordinary, thin, clean-shaven man. He looked about fifty years old at most. And yet, together in their first year, they got permission to use the Time-Turner...

"Yes, I really went too far with the Time-Turner," Albus thought to himself. "I should have turned it less often." Albus sometimes had the same nightmare—that because of the Time-Turner, he lived his life in the time it takes a man to tie his shoelaces.

"Are you aware that your subordinates add more and more injuries to you every year?" Albus asked, wondering what he would do if this was a trap.

"Yes. I know our local folklore. But I like better: 'When the Masque gives a task, my face twists, and when I hand in the work, his face twists,'" he was told.

Dumbledore pointed the Elder Wand at the man sitting next to him and said, "Legilimens!" He used the spell. Not feeling the slightest resistance, he plunged into someone else's mind. There was Occlumency, but all the protection was as if on the side, parting in front of the headmaster of Hogwarts and looked like just a harmless drawing somewhere on the edge of perception.

Albus Dumbledore saw the conversation with the imperched Frederick Bowdy, saw the things that Voldemort offered as gifts, saw the coordinates of the next places for communication. He saw Alison's thoughts, his answer, and the reasons for this answer. Having seen everything he wanted, Albus emerged from his memories about forty minutes later.

"Your recommendations on improving my Occlumency?" Alison asked.

"I'll write you a letter later. In short... You use a runic method of control. To begin with, rotate the Completion and Harmony runes 90 degrees, and make the Mirror multiple."

"I will take this into account. I will not put on the mask for now, so that you can be sure of my sincerity. And what do you think about the Nameless One? You heard the words that the imperched one conveyed to me!" they asked him.

"Yes, the words are unusual and very unexpected from Tom. Very soft third-party control of Muggles. State monopoly on trade with Muggles. State monopoly on the use of Muggle inventions. Fooling the Muggle top brass, and in a very original way. Refusal of direct destruction of Muggle-borns; instead, 'finding them suitable work' through economic incentives. Instead of the standard conquest of the entire world—pulling the necessary specialists to magical England. Instead of raids and random murders—purchasing material from wizards abroad and using Muggles who died in accidents like transport crashes. At the same time, refusing to experiment on citizens inside magical England.

In essence, Tom was not proposing to destroy the existing wizarding society, but to build another one nearby, where everything currently prohibited would be his monopoly. It was all a bit... chaotic..."

"I'm interested in your opinion," said Albus.

"I'm at a loss," answered Alison. "Most likely, it's just a lie. And almost according to the Auror's recruitment manual, in accordance with paragraph 3.2.7. The second option is that Tom Riddle's psychological profile for the Auror was compiled by idiots, and they should be fired from their jobs immediately. And the third option: the Death Eaters are adjusting course. There is another option: replacing the Nameless One. But this is unlikely."

"If you refused to cooperate with Voldemort, why didn't you report the recruitment attempt to the Auror Office or the Minister of Magic?"

"The Auror Office? There must be his agents there if they were able to get into my office. Talk to Moody? No, thank you. When I talk to him, I resist calling security and ordering them to throw him out. The only thing that holds me back is that no matter what the outcome, I'll be short of security. The Minister? I'm afraid the Minister will soon be replaced. And even if not, the Minister will still run to consult with you. So I just shortened the communication route," they answered him.

And Alison's thoughts corresponded to this. Albus Dumbledore sent a signal to Moody and the Special Operations Squad with his left hand through the communication artifact about canceling the arrest of the Head of the Department of Mysteries. However, Moody didn't calm down and demanded new signals that Albus was still Albus… and he would get them.

"I'm glad you made the right choice. I thought that our school conflict could have a bad effect on you," Albus said.

"I'm not sixteen anymore, and there's no point in cherishing my childhood grievances. Stupid pranks shouldn't interfere with our cooperation," they answered him.

"Stupid pranks? Some of them looked like attempted murder!"

"Albus, you're overdoing it. Our school Care of Magical Creatures teacher was to blame for everything; he worked according to the criterion: 'Let's show you at the MCA what you were afraid to show at the DADA.' He himself dragged an adult manticore to the seventh-year lesson and turned his back to the class, saying: 'Come on, who isn't afraid of a manticore, take a step forward!'"

"But while he was distracted, you, taking advantage of the fact that the children were without protective charms, pushed them all, including yourself, a step back with magic. And when the teacher turned around, I was standing a step ahead of everyone."

"And I was dragged off to meet the manticore!" said Albus.

"After that, your popularity skyrocketed! Just think, when the beast lunged at you, you blocked its attack with a wandless spell, and then, using a wand, killed it with one spell!" he feigned admiration for his deed.

"Yes. And I spent four weeks in St. Mungo's with magical exhaustion and partially burned-out channels and core. I almost became a squib. To top it all off, the teacher gave me a 'T' for killing his favorite pet! And I wonder what you would have done if I had died there?"

"Nothing. The teacher is responsible for everything in class. I could be held accountable if I had cast some kind of influence on you, the manticore, or the teacher. But I didn't. I was simply saving myself and the children from the manticore—with wandless magic. I mean, a spontaneous release. So I would be clear before the law. But seriously—I thought you would say in front of the whole class that you were afraid of the manticore and would stay where you were, and you could be called a coward. But because of your Gryffindorship, or rather heroic pursuit, you decided to remain silent! But I grew up and realized my mistakes. I'm not going to repeat them."

"If you've grown up, then I'd like to hear you apologize for all the pranks you played on me," Albus suggested.

With a sigh, Alison began to list. "On the Hogwarts Express train before first year, I ruined your chocolate frog. But you punched me in the eye for that, so we're even. At the Sorting, I conjured a sound wave with my wand, as if you were farting under the Sorting Hat. Forgive me. During your Sorting, I conjured the cry 'Azkaban!' But I later got publicly spanked for that. But still, I'm sorry. Since your first year, I've been spreading rumors that you were the son of a murderer and a Muggle-hater. Forgive me. In your first Transfiguration lesson... Yeah, anyone would have been kicked out of school for half of those things. Just not the son of a very rich, influential, pure-blood family from Wizarding America."

And it would be okay if Alison were just a rich kid—he was a genius. His quirks and pranks were always directed only at Albus. And Dumbledore just listened and listened. Naturally, he didn't need these apologies—he's not a child.

But Moody kept demanding new and more complex codes to ensure that Albus still had the communication artifact. "Moody, you are certainly the best Auror, but right now you are just being paranoid—not every great wizard is a fighter. Alison simply has nowhere to gain combat experience. And he does not possess Dark Magic, as well as Light Magic."

Sending Moody more and more codes, Albus listened to Alison's speech with half an ear.

"In your fifth year, I bewitched your homework for the UMS. As a result, it turned out to say: 'I am the only one in the class who sees Thestrals because I am gay.' And for this, you still got a 'P' because your teacher gave you a grade without reading it and sent your work to the International Competition. But they quickly returned the text to its original form. Then you challenged me to a duel, and I ended up in the hospital wing. After that, I did not accept a single challenge from you, but still—forgive me. On behalf of Aberforth Dumbledore, I sent you goat cookies with a Muggle laxative by mail..."

"Was that you? I blamed Aberforth all along!"

"Yes, it was me. Forgive me. But all things come to an end," Alison's verbal outpouring soon concluded.

Then they had a long and tedious discussion about the list of things stolen from the Department of Mysteries and the list of Voldemort's discovered agents.

"This is what the Nameless One offered us as gifts: two conventionally combat spells from the Founders' era, a way to age cognac, improving its taste—Muggle cognac! A flying machine that is a hybrid of magic and technology. And a ritual for measuring ereghu. Already the eighteenth one in my memory. To be honest, I expected something like '1000 ways to skin a Muggle alive' from him."

"Looks like you eat sweets, and he drinks black," his school enemy tried to joke.

"That explains why he can be absent for weeks, and then kill a bunch of people in a day. Voldemort is an alcoholic? Yes, Alison continues to freeze his brain, even after all these years... Always..."

"Don't even try to joke, Alison. It's not yours," warned Albus.

"Tom Riddle would never touch anything Muggle... Either he changed, or he never knew him, or this is not Tom. But why reveal yourself so blatantly? A mistake? Is he seriously hoping to cooperate with the Department of Mysteries? Just a lie? What did Voldemort know about Alison at the time of the recruitment attempt?"

Albus looked at the diagrams and drawings on the parchment. "Very interesting. I will study this. Continue to cooperate with Tom. Unilaterally pump information out of him. Gain his trust and arrange a meeting with him. There I will get rid of him."

"He is very careful. No personal meetings. Paranoia like Moody. By the way, about Moody. Albus, he has clearly reached the first critical level of ereghu accumulation. That is, he has passed the point of stable bifurcation. Such people should be dismissed. In the event that he reaches the second critical level of ereghu, then this will already be the point of unstable bifurcation. It is more expedient to destroy such people," they told him.

"I am confident in Alastor. I am monitoring his dynamics; his price for using Dark Magic will not exceed some personality disorder."

"As you wish," they replied. "But now I have a question for you. Albus, I am not going to join the Order of the Phoenix. I am not a fighter. But I will help you, albeit indirectly. But what will I tell Scrimgeour? 'Mr. Minister, Albus Dumbledore, the same one with the Elder Wand, Hogwarts and a personal army, has a contract with me. What conspiracy in the ministry?' Albus, wizards have been sent to Azkaban for less! The Department of Mysteries is completely accountable to the Minister; it is part of the Ministry of Magic, and not the other way around!"

"I will solve this problem. Just keep quiet."

"Perhaps you, taking advantage of public discontent with Scrimgeour's failure, will simply remove him from office and take his place? Then you will not have to play conspirators! They say your influence on politics is very great."

"You were lied to," Albus tried to joke. "But there will be no change of Minister of Magic."

"You overestimate my capabilities. I am just the headmaster of the school, who sometimes advises people, and they believe in the power of his authority."

" Asking you where the Order of the Phoenix gets its money, as I understand, is useless?" they asked him.

"Yes," he answered laconically.

"Okay, I understand that. Moreover, I will tell you the truth. You have always played the fool very well. And every time I managed to believe it, I got hurt."

"But I have a question for you. You have already met the Nameless One at the Crouch house. Perhaps the Nameless One was at the Ministry in the guise of Rookwood and for reasons unknown to me—for example, he is a transvestite, pretending to be his own student. Then instead of a two-on-one fight, it will be a one-on-one fight."

"Albus, are you sure you can defeat the Nameless One in a one-on-one fight?" they asked him with genuine interest.

Alison had always been a law-abiding individual, but kindness was never his forte. He had a tendency to align himself with the victors, seeing truth merely as an objective reality to be analyzed in the realm of science. He had previously rejected an alliance with Grindelwald, and now he joined forces with Albus for one clear reason: he consistently sought to be on the winning side.

As Albus pondered his strategy to eliminate Voldemort, he reflected on the new spells he had developed, including Whisper of Dreams and Cry of Fear. He had invested considerable effort into rectifying his previous mistakes concerning mental duels, preparing himself to use lethal spells if the situation demanded. He had also sought Nicholas's assistance for special potions, which were now in his possession.

Recalling his apprenticeship, he had brewed a poison intended for the horned serpent and a potion capable of inducing a coma in a phoenix—or whatever creature Voldemort had in place of a phoenix. Though Dumbledore had a dwindling number of fighters left at his disposal, he knew that as a master of Transfiguration, he could create new golems—very high-quality ones at that. However, all these preparations would only bear fruit if the initial plan did not fail, and he was confident it would succeed.

If it did falter, they would then be able to search for Horcruxes. Capturing Tom alive, or even obtaining a significant piece of his body, would make this process straightforward. However, if he were to lose, Albus assured himself that Tom would not be afforded a peaceful existence. He had already prepared a magical will, ensuring that the fight against Tom and the potential secret of his immortality would not die with him.

"But it won't come to that," Albus asserted firmly. "Yes, I have a plan to eliminate Voldemort that should work."