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Feedback would be nice. This is the last chapter and while I might add something in the future, it will be brief.

mizzrazz72 - No, he didn't want to do anything of it.

Departure.

Albus looked down sadly at the dead body of Draco Malfoy and at the other faces, many of them had been students at Hogwarts. All of them were dead and it was such a pity, many of them had such potential, now it was gone. Dumbledore sighed as he stood to the side as the investigators scanned the room for signs of evidence they could use to track down whoever was responsible for this massacre.

A common misconception many people had about him, especially those who had suffered from some of the outcomes of his plans, was that he would poke his nose into anything, but while that was true even he knew he shouldn't interfere with the investigation. Besides, he didn't really have the heart to interfere. What would be the point? It was clear these young people had been behind the attacks on targets in the muggle world, and it sickened him no end that so many people had been infected by the poison of Tom Riddle's disgusting philosophy - while he might share some of Voldemort's views about muggles and the threat they posed, Dumbledore knew that while magical knowledge was greater than muggle technology, there were too many muggles for such a philosophy to work.

Dumbledore leaned against a wall as he watched the investigators levitate the bodies out of the room, sympathy and sadness seeping into his very soul as he thought about those same students who'd probably been groomed to become fully fledged Death Eaters as soon as Voldemort's war drove on through the country before it left the British isles and headed for Europe, though whether Voldemort would make any impression abroad he couldn't say. Voldemort and his followers may have had an over-inflated opinion of themselves and their abilities, but much of their actions had been centered in Britain with only a few rare attacks in places like Hamburg, Paris, Marseilles, Lisbon and Madrid, and going as far east as St. Petersburg.

Unfortunately Voldemort had never been good at forward thinking - the madness caused by the Gaunt blood running through his veins had driven the boy insane. Anyone with half a brain would have researched those countries and discovered that while they had their dark undergrounds that were much like the one here their ministry's were not as tolerant towards dark lord uprisings or foreign dark lords causing problems. In Britain, where the Ministry adopted a stick their collective heads in the sand approach, it wasn't the same abroad. Many countries, while some may be sympathetic to some of Voldemort's points, would adopt a more zero tolerance policy than the British Ministry.

Voldemort and the Death Eaters had committed a fair few raids on the continent, but the other magical governments had learnt their lessons well after the war with Grindelwald.

Voldemort may have been incredibly powerful, capable of impressive feats of magic, but abroad his madness and the power hungry approach he favored had resulted in many dark wizards who could have become valuable allies labelling him as a rabid dog. It never failed to sicken Albus about the legacy his old friend now had. Gellert had been intelligent, charismatic and bold, and he had hated the Statute of Secrecy like many other dark lords, but unlike them he didn't believe it was a wise move to actively leave the magical world and show the muggles the existence of magic. Instead, he had united a good portion of the magical world together against the muggles and solve some of the problems the Statute created.

But while Gellert had been radical, he had made the same mistakes as so many of his contemporaries, he had killed so many witches and wizards until the numbers rose into the thousands. But he had gained a lot of power abroad, using the already existing mess of the Second World War as a convenient cover, though whether or not Gellert had used that latest example of muggle savagery to hide his own war after seeing it happen, or if he had done something to set the whole thing off Albus didn't know and he didn't want to either.

Magical Europe had suffered the effects of the war first hand, much in the same way as the muggle world had. Magical and muggle Britain were both completely different places, but both had barely been touched by the war in Europe, but if they had then perhaps the war against Voldemort would have been stamped out by the same zero tolerance approach adopted by the various ministries who'd realised they had come dangerously close to being revealed to the muggles.

Voldemort had quickly discovered the futility of attacking the magical communities of Europe, but he hadn't learnt the lesson and he would have done if he had moved abroad. None of the other countries would have ministers who pandered towards the Death Eaters like Bagnold and Fudge. Thinking of Bagnold made Albus rub his forehead, he still recalled the number of times she had called upon his personal experience with the other countries for advice whenever Voldemort launched an attack abroad, and she needed his help to mitigate the worst of the angry attacks she'd come under for her lack of action.

Over time he had simply refused to help; he had had his hands full dealing with being the headmaster of Hogwarts, fighting the Death Eaters, and trying to stop Voldemort from making the same mistake dark lords made whenever they rose to power and felt invincible, but truthfully he had become fed up with Bagnold's inability to see reality. She had simply refused to listen to him and to various other members of the Ministry and the Wizengamot who could see the problem was not going to just vanish into thin air. Dumbledore had his limits and Millicent reached them pretty quickly.

Looking around the devastation in this room in Malfoy Manor, after seeing all those dead children, Albus knew in his heart the wizarding world hadn't heard the last of this poisonous disease that infected so many people and stopped them looking towards the big picture and seeing how dangerous the muggles were, and how life was better for them hidden away. At least in hiding they weren't likely to be burnt at a stake for having a gift.


Well, that was wonderful, Harry groused to himself as he sat in the airport terminal waiting for his flight as he thought about what he had done last night. After he had killed the blonde boy, he'd checked the manor for any survivors before he left the manor and headed back to the flat he'd been using.

After a night of killing, Harry would be grateful to never use such magic ever again. Still at least he had the knowledge of how to protect himself from harm in case he came across another of those wizards in America who had a thing for murdering muggleborns for sport. But after last night he was now beginning to have second thoughts about living in Britain even if it was mildly better than living in America. At least in Britain, he didn't need to worry about where he was going to be sleeping.

Harry let out a sigh, ignoring the old newspapers lying about nearby that showed the Junior Death Eaters' last attack, and just tried to relax and not think about his future just yet. He'd had plenty of time to decide whether or not he wanted to come back to live in Britain full time. But those Junior Death Eaters had put him off the place. There would always be people like them who just wanted to lash out, and while he understood their reasons he didn't want to get involved. Once was more than enough, but he had been involved twice so far, and he didn't want to die because he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Looking around the airport terminal, Harry was happy these people were safe, but he was just annoyed that they didn't realise how close they had almost come to fighting a full scale war with the magical world. Part of him just wished that the other magical countries did what Rappaport did after the Twelvetrees' incident - if the magical world were that worried about the muggles finding them, then they should just lock themselves away, it would save a lot more lives. Harry was just not looking forwards to going back to school - he had gotten used to not knowing anyone in this country, now he would have to return to being called a freak.

He just couldn't win. Harry perked up when the announcement for his flight was ready, and he stood up and headed in the direction indicated, joining other passengers heading for New York, but not before he looked around the airport terminal, wondering if he would indeed be coming back to live in this country full time.


FINIS.