Dumblemdore Family: Wizarding Witch World

Alvo sat cross-legged in the quiet stillness of his mountain refuge, the dim light of a stone lantern casting soft shadows over his face. His thoughts churned like the tides, reflecting on the past month. Every battle, every transfiguration, every calculated use of Delta and Alpha waves had shaped him. It was clear now: his magic, as it stood, was uniquely tailored to a solitary supporter.

"A supporter for solo play…" he murmured, the thought bringing a faint smirk to his lips.

Yet, there was an itch in his mind, a sense that he hadn't fully uncovered the potential of these runes etched in his spiritual sea. He closed his eyes, letting his consciousness drift into the vast expanse of his spiritual sea—the boundless inner world where the Alpha and Delta runes radiated softly, their glow rippling across the waters.

"What are you hiding from me?" he whispered to the runes.

The waters shifted, and the glow of the runes flickered like distant stars. Alvo's mind lingered on a single thought:

"Waves… they wash away the old and bring in the new. An endless cycle of renewal. Could that be the essence of their magic? Is it all about intention?"

His eyes snapped open, his gaze falling on the small oriental-style stone table before him. Resting there was a smooth game board he had carved from a slab of granite. A sudden spark of inspiration lit his mind.

"If the wave's intention is to cleanse, could I make it something else? A wave of thorns… or blades?"

His fingers trembled with excitement as he placed both hands over the board, transfiguring a miniature ocean in intricate detail. Tiny waves rose and fell, perfectly imitating the natural ebb and flow of the sea. The water rippled in mesmerizing patterns as Alvo murmured to himself.

"Waves of knives… waves of earth… what if the wave itself transforms? No… what if it responds to my will?"

Time began to blur as Alvo immersed himself in profound meditation. Days turned into weeks as he remained largely undisturbed. Outside, the magical beasts roamed freely, coming and going as they pleased. Some wandered further to hunt, returning to their makeshift dens near Alvo's shelter. Occasionally, they would glance toward the cave, sensing the faint hum of magical energy emanating from within.

The creatures, once fierce and unyielding, had become strangely calm in his presence. It was as though they understood instinctively that Alvo's focus lay far beyond them, and they had no desire to disrupt his silence.

Inside, Alvo's Spirit sea underwent a transformation. One of the glowing runes began to shift and reshape, carving itself anew in intricate patterns. The waters around it churned with energy, forming spirals that rose and fell like breathing tides.

"Waves don't just cleanse. They're carriers of will. They embody force, intention, and adaptation."

These thoughts solidified in Alvo's mind like ancient truths being rediscovered.

On the morning of the fourth week, Alvo's eyes opened. There was a subtle but profound difference in his gaze. His irises shimmered like deep ocean tides, the faint glint of infinite waves rolling within. He stretched his fingers toward the game board, which remained untouched since the day he first created it.

As if in response to his thoughts, the miniature ocean began to shift. Tiny waves rose, some tall and sharp like jagged cliffs, others gentle and rolling. He focused, his intention clear.

Suddenly, a wave of glinting metal lances surged forward, crashing and dissolving into the water. Then came a wave of frozen ice shards, followed by a wave of molten rock, and finally a tide of rich, fertile earth. Each new wave was an extension of his will, merging seamlessly with transfiguration.

Alvo couldn't help but laugh softly.

"So that's it. It's all about intention… and adaptation. Father's going to love this. Or… well, maybe not. Depends on how much trouble this will cause him."

He leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face, as the miniature ocean continued its endless dance of transformation on the board.

Meanwhile, the forest outside seemed to mirror the tranquility of Alvo's meditation. The magical beasts had grown accustomed to each other, their natural instincts tempered by the strange, calming influence of their shared territory.

The shadow panther stretched lazily in a patch of sunlight, while the magma tiger lay curled beside a cooling stone, its fiery streaks dimmed to a soft glow. The thunder wolves patrolled the perimeter with a sense of quiet purpose, occasionally stopping to glance toward the cave.

It was a fragile harmony, but a harmony nonetheless.

As the fourth week rolled into its final days, Alvo couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and disappointment. He had hoped to encounter a level 2 magical beast—something that would truly test his newfound strength and ingenuity. However, deep down, he understood the reality: such a challenge might have been far beyond his current abilities.

"Perhaps it's better this way," he mused to himself as he adjusted the protective wards around his shelter. His heart settled, and he allowed himself to enjoy the quiet, knowing the end of his test was near.

It was a peaceful morning when the Keeper appeared, standing at the entrance of Alvo's cave with an amused smile on his face. His eyes swept over the scene—the intricate systems of defenses, the harmony of magical beasts, and the unmistakable order Alvo had brought to the chaos of the forest.

"Did he… turn this place into a zoo?" the Keeper thought, exhaling a long, incredulous sigh.

He flicked his wrist, and in an instant, the beasts vanished into thin air. Where they were sent, only the Keeper knew.

Alvo, still groggy from sleep, stumbled out of his makeshift bedroom, rubbing his eyes. The Keeper stood in front of him, his grin widening.

"The time has come," the Keeper said warmly. "It's time to return and rest. You did well, Alvo."

The words were kind, but Alvo barely acknowledged them. He was too exhausted to muster a response, his thoughts entirely consumed by the dream of a soft bed and warm blankets.

In a flash of magic, the forest disappeared, and Alvo found himself standing in his bedroom. The Keeper was gone as swiftly as he had come, leaving no trace behind. Alvo shrugged, his mind too foggy to dwell on the abruptness of it all.

He shuffled to the bathroom, luxuriating in a long, hot shower. Steam filled the room as he let the grime and weariness of the last month wash away.

Finally clean, he picked up his enchanted tablet, sending a quick message:

"I'm back. Don't bother me. I'm going to sleep for a few days."

Setting the tablet aside, he closed the curtains, turned on his magical climate control, and sank into the soft embrace of his bed.

Darkness claimed him almost immediately, and for the first time in months, Alvo allowed himself to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Unbeknownst to Alvo, throughout the entirety of his grueling month in the forest, another set of eyes watched him closely. Not just those of the Keeper, but of a figure far beyond the comprehension of a mere ten-year-old wizard—Hybrym Dumbledore, the great Autarch and one of the most ancient beings in existence.

For Hybrym, time was a trivial concept, irrelevant to his existence. He had witnessed every moment of Alvo's trials, not out of idle curiosity but as a silent guardian, ensuring the boy's safety from a distance while observing his growth.

At first, Hybrym found little to comment on. Alvo's daily struggles, his clever yet sometimes naïve experiments with magic, and his persistent murmurs of frustration were all part of the journey. Hybrym understood the boy was bound by the current magical curriculum—a framework too small to encompass the greatness stirring within him.

It was during the final days of Alvo's test that Hybrym witnessed something extraordinary. Something even he hadn't anticipated.

As Alvo sat by his transfigured stone table, his murmured thoughts about the nature of waves had stirred an ancient force. Hybrym watched in quiet awe as Alvo unknowingly connected with an Original Law, ''the Law of Waves''.

This was no trivial feat. The Original Laws were primordial forces that shaped the very fabric of reality, beyond the reach of most mortals and even many great beings. Yet here was a boy, barely scratching the surface of his potential, who had been recognized by the Law itself.

Hybrym understood the weight of this moment. The Law of Waves had now been anchored to Alvo's very being, subtly reshaping the magical plane in ways the boy couldn't yet comprehend.

With a single thought, Hybrym reached out to the other Autarchs across the multiverse. In the timeless expanse of their shared consciousness, his message was simple and clear:

"The young one has been acknowledged by an Original Law. He is not to be touched."

The other Autarchs responded with tacit agreement, their ancient minds reaching a consensus almost immediately. Each would inform their respective domains of this development, ensuring that no unnecessary disturbances would come to Alvo.

Their understanding was unspoken yet absolute:

"Yes, yes, we understand. Leave the boy in peace. Inform the families. All will remain calm."

Hybrym allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. These ancient beings had known each other for eons, and little needed to be said when they were aligned.

His task complete, Hybrym cast one last glance at the boy from his higher plane of existence. Alvo was obliviously working on some new transfiguration, his mind deep in thought, the glow of potential radiating from him like the morning sun.

For the first time in a long while, Hybrym furrowed his brow, contemplating the ripples Alvo's actions would send through the magical plane.

And then, with the faintest shimmer, Hybrym Dumbledore disappeared into the ether, leaving no trace of his presence behind—as if he had never been there at all.

After three full days of deep, uninterrupted sleep, Alvo stirred awake, blinking groggily in the morning light streaming through his window.

"I could sleep a bit more," he muttered, but a lingering sense of restlessness prompted him to stretch and climb out of bed. After washing up and putting on fresh clothes, he made his way downstairs to greet his family.

The moment he entered the room, Helena and Fernanda rushed to him, enveloping him in a tight, affectionate hug. The warmth of their embrace made him realize how much he had missed such simple gestures during his time in the forest.

Fernanda, however, couldn't help but glare at her husband, Adrian, over Alvo's shoulder.

"Hmph! You dare take my baby away again?" she huffed, her tone dripping with maternal indignation.

Adrian could only offer an awkward smile, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed in resignation. "It was necessary," he thought to himself, but wisely decided not to voice it aloud.

After some light conversation and formalities over breakfast, it became clear that Alvo wouldn't be resuming his studies right away. His tutor was on leave, busy with evaluations at the Dumbledore Battle Academy, leaving Alvo with an unexpected window of free time.

With nothing pressing on his schedule, Alvo decided to wander to the garden—a secluded area often used for training. The space was quiet, the perfect place to unwind and experiment with his magic.

As he stood in the middle of the training grounds, his hands tingled with the familiar sensation of magical energy. He absentmindedly began transfiguring simple objects, but his creativity soon took over.

First, he conjured a series of small hurdles, but then he expanded them into larger obstacles. Before long, the entire area was transformed into a sprawling, intricate military-style training course.

Ropes twisted around towering poles, walls rose from the ground with climbing grips, and pits filled with soft padding formed at strategic points. At the center, he created a network of elevated platforms connected by tightropes, testing balance and precision.

When he stepped back to admire his work, he couldn't help but smile.

"Not bad, Alvo. Not bad at all."

Satisfied, Alvo headed back inside. After a quick shower, he grabbed his magical tablet and plopped onto his bed. He scrolled through updates on the wizarding world, catching up on news and developments he had missed during his month-long isolation.

His eyelids began to grow heavy again, and with a yawn, he set the tablet aside. His bed, warm and inviting, called to him once more.

"Just a quick nap," he thought, but as he drifted off.

Unbeknownst to Alvo, as he slept peacefully, one of the State Soldiers of Dumbledore wandered into the secluded garden where Alvo had transfigured his intricate training ground. The soldier, a seasoned veteran named Captain Garrick, paused mid-step, eyes wide at the towering structures, winding ropes, and peculiar logical puzzles integrated into the sprawling field.

"What in Merlin's name is this?" Garrick muttered, intrigued by the sheer scale and complexity. The entire area was comparable to two football fields in size, an impressive feat for what he initially thought was a mere private garden.

The first segment of the course was straightforward enough—a series of hurdles and climbing walls. However, as he progressed, Garrick found himself pushed beyond his normal limits.

The obstacles demanded a level of coordination and agility he hadn't encountered in his usual training regimens. The elevated platforms required perfect balance, the ropes forced precision and strength, and the logical puzzles scattered at checkpoints tested his cognitive abilities under physical duress.

By the end of the course, Garrick collapsed onto a bench near the exit, wiping sweat from his brow. His muscles ached, but his mind buzzed with realization.

"This... this is genius," he thought. "It doesn't just train the body—it sharpens the mind and reinforces discipline. The balance between physical and mental exertion is unlike anything we've done before."

After catching his breath, Garrick began taking detailed notes on his observations:

Muscle Engagement:

The course forced the use of core and stabilizer muscles, which are often neglected in traditional training.Continuous activity over varying terrains improved endurance and explosive strength.

Mental Stimulation:

The puzzles added a layer of cognitive challenge, ensuring soldiers remain sharp under pressure.Simulated decision-making scenarios during the course could improve battlefield tactics.

Tenacity and Focus:

The diversity of obstacles pushed mental fortitude, encouraging soldiers to persevere despite fatigue.

Projected Gains (1 Month of Training):

Improved agility, balance, and reflexes by 35%.

"If this is what a single session offers," Garrick wrote, "then one month of this training could elevate our soldiers to an entirely new standard."

Later that evening, Garrick stood before Commander Arcturus, presenting his findings. Arcturus, a grizzled veteran with a reputation for demanding excellence, listened intently.

"You're saying this training field could revolutionize our methods?" Arcturus asked, his tone skeptical but intrigued.

"Yes, sir," Garrick replied confidently. "It's not just the physical aspect—this course combines mental and physical challenges seamlessly. After just one round, I feel stronger, sharper. Imagine what it could do for our forces after a month of consistent training."

Arcturus leaned back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Who created this field? And why haven't we heard of it before?"

"That's the strange part, sir," Garrick admitted. "It appears to have been transfigured recently, but the creator is unknown. The area was entirely deserted."

After a moment of silence, Arcturus nodded decisively. "Very well. Effective immediately, all 50,000 soldiers are granted a temporary reprieve from regular duties. They will rotate through this training course over the next month. I want detailed reports on their progress at every stage. If what you say is true, this could reshape how we prepare for combat."

Word spread quickly among the soldiers. By late afternoon, the once-quiet garden was alive with activity. Groups of soldiers shouted battle cries as they tackled the course with passion and determination.

Even those who were initially skeptical found themselves engrossed in the challenges, marveling at how each segment tested a different aspect of their abilities. The air buzzed with excitement and camaraderie as they pushed themselves to new heights.

Meanwhile, Alvo remained blissfully unaware of the chaos he had inadvertently unleashed. He lay in his bed, dreaming peacefully, unaware that his training field was now the heart of an unintentional revolution in military preparation.

Commander Arcturus paced outside the grand hall of Adrian Dumbledore's estate, his thoughts swirling. The training field was nothing short of miraculous—a gift that could change the tide of their readiness. He felt compelled to express his gratitude in person.

Upon being granted an audience, Arcturus entered the chamber and found Adrian seated at his desk, reviewing documents with his usual air of calm authority.

"Commander Arcturus," Adrian greeted with a faint smile. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Arcturus straightened and saluted sharply. "Supreme Governor, I come bearing thanks on behalf of the entire battalion. The new training field in the northern garden has proven to be an invaluable tool. Its design is unparalleled, and its results are already evident among the men."

Adrian raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering across his face. "Training field?" he repeated, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, sir," Arcturus continued earnestly. "Its complexity and the balance it strikes between physical and mental challenges are unlike anything we've encountered. Surely, it must have taken months of planning. Your foresight in providing such a resource is truly remarkable."

For a moment, Adrian said nothing, his mind piecing together the puzzle. He hadn't designed any such field—but he had a good idea of who might have. Letting his lips curl into a composed smile, he decided it was better to claim credit than to open the door to unnecessary questions.

"Ah," Adrian said smoothly, "I'm pleased to hear it's proving effective. Enhancing our forces has always been a priority. But tell me, how have the men responded?"

Arcturus relaxed slightly, unaware of the deliberate redirection. "Their enthusiasm is overwhelming. Many have already reported marked improvements in stamina, focus, and adaptability. Sir, if I may say so, this field is nothing short of revolutionary."

Adrian nodded sagely, though his thoughts drifted to Alvo. "Good. Then continue to make the most of it, Commander. Consider it a gift to the battalion."

After leaving the estate, Arcturus felt both humbled and motivated. The Supreme Governor's generosity was as extraordinary as the training field itself. However, rumors soon spread among the ranks—some speculated the field was designed by a mysterious third party, while others whispered that Adrian had developed it with an experimental approach.

"What matters is its efficacy, not its origin. Focus on the results."

Behind closed doors, however, Adrian couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Alvo," he thought, "you're going to give me gray hairs before my time."

The unspoken truth stayed between Adrian and himself, ensuring peace among the military and sparing the boy from unwanted attention.