Marvel's Hogwarts Professor

Dark Dimension

In the vast expanse of the Dark Dimension, space itself seemed boundless. The edges of this realm were in constant flux, expanding endlessly, even as cosmic collisions and void-born disasters threatened to tear it apart. Yet for Dormammu, ruler of this desolate domain, such chaos meant little, for he held absolute power in the core area—the dense, shifting heart of his dominion. This nucleus, a radiant nebula of shifting colors and sinister energy, was a sprawling galaxy of planets and fractured lands, each piece a testament to the dark entity's millennia of conquest and plunder.

From afar, the nebula had an almost hypnotic quality. Its swirling, star-filled mass vaguely resembled a colossal face—Dormammu's face—a haunting visage formed by the warped will of his dimension. This face was no mere illusion; it was the convergence of Dormammu's will, his very essence woven into the space around him.

Just beyond this core, a desolate fragment of land floated in the dark void, an isolated isle of black, scorched rock. It trembled as waves of dark energy pulsated across its surface, and wisps of black flames flickered in and out of existence, as though the land itself resisted Dormammu's dark influence.

Suddenly, the black flames intensified, and space itself split open, a crack forming in the void like a wound. Hellfire—bright, malevolent, and scorching—spilled out of the crack, and from this breach, a figure emerged, stepping from the infernal depths into Dormammu's domain.

He was an elderly man clad in dark Victorian attire, leaning on a staff of twisted iron. His hat cast a shadow over his face, yet his eyes gleamed with cunning intelligence. This was Mephisto, demon lord of Hell, his presence radiating malevolence that few dared to match.

As Mephisto moved, the realm around him seemed to pulse in response, as though Dormammu's very domain recoiled from this uninvited guest. The sky darkened, and the core nebula quivered as a massive, ghostly face materialized nearby, mirroring the shape of the nebula. This face, Dormammu's avatar, had prisms of refracted light where its eyes should have been, shifting from side to side in agitation.

"Mephisto," Dormammu's voice thundered through the void, a low rumble that carried both threat and displeasure. "Why have you come here, intruder?"

Leaning casually on his staff, Mephisto tilted his head, his smile a perfect mask of arrogance and charm. "Dormammu," he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with mock courtesy. "You haven't changed a bit. Arrogant as always, even when your kingdom is... crumbling."

Dormammu's features darkened, the pressure of his presence intensifying. "Speak plainly, demon, or I shall scatter you across dimensions."

Mephisto chuckled, unfazed. "No need for threats. I'm here to propose an alliance," he said, his tone as smooth as silk. "Word has reached me that your followers on Earth... well, they've been somewhat depleted."

A flicker of annoyance passed through Dormammu's face, but he remained silent, waiting.

"Ah, I see I'm not mistaken." Mephisto's smile widened. "You had some interesting allies on Earth, but it seems Master Lockhart of Kamar-Taj has made short work of them. With your cult weakened, I imagine your hold on Earth has become somewhat tenuous?"

Dormammu's response was swift and dismissive. "They were nothing but pawns," he said coldly. "I can replace them as I see fit."

"Indeed," Mephisto said with a slow nod, pretending to be convinced. "But that will take time, will it not? And time is a precious commodity, especially for those like us."

A scowl flickered across Dormammu's face, his patience wearing thin. "Enough games, Mephisto. State your purpose."

"Very well, very well," Mephisto said, his tone almost playful. "There's an overlord in the universe, a rather ambitious one by the name of Thanos. He has recently set his sights on Earth, though he's cautious of stepping on certain... toes." Mephisto's voice lowered, as though he were sharing a secret. "The Sorcerer Supreme's toes, to be precise."

Dormammu remained impassive, though his interest was clearly piqued.

"To avoid rousing The Sorcerer Supreme, Thanos has chosen a... proxy. A pawn, if you will," Mephisto continued, savoring each word. "An individual with connections to Kamar-Taj—Loki, the trickster prince of Asgard."

There was a pause as Dormammu processed this information, his nebulous face unreadable.

"Imagine," Mephisto went on, "an alliance between us, with Thanos unknowingly playing his part. A simple manipulation here and there, and your influence on Earth could be restored swiftly. You could use the trickster to plant seeds of darkness within Kamar-Taj itself. All I need are some of your followers to support my efforts on Earth."

Dormammu's silence was contemplative, and then, at last, he spoke. "Very well. I can grant you access to what remains of my followers. But I will add one condition to our alliance."

Mephisto arched an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"Bring Lockhart to me, alive and unharmed," Dormammu said, his voice cold and commanding. "He interfered with my arrival once before and even dared to consume a fragment of my soul. I want to know the secrets he harbors."

Mephisto nodded, his expression neutral though a glint of curiosity shone in his eyes. "Done. I'll see to it that he's delivered to you personally."

Satisfied, Dormammu forged the terms of their contract, specifying each condition in detail. He was no fool; with Mephisto, contracts were necessary to ensure that neither party could twist the agreement to their advantage. Only when every clause was etched in the fabric of reality did Mephisto leave, disappearing back into the void with a smug smile.

Alone again, Dormammu's gaze remained fixed on the distant stars. Lockhart had been a thorn in his side, disrupting his plans and stealing from him a piece of his own power. A mortal consuming the soul of a dimensional god—unheard of, he thought, an insatiable curiosity and resentment building within him. He would have answers, no matter the cost.

Kamar-Taj Library

In the quiet, sunlit library of Kamar-Taj, Morin sat at her desk, engrossed in a thick, ancient tome. his quill, enchanted by Lockhart himself, hovered beside him, scribbling notes, inspirations, and observations onto a parchment scroll. Lockhart had created the quill specifically for Kamar-Taj's scholars, saving them the tedious task of writing so they could focus on their studies.

A shadow fell across her desk, and he looked up to see Lockhart standing there, an amiable smile on his face.

"Morin, I need to borrow these," he said, holding a small stack of heavy books.

Morin gave him a knowing look, nodding as he glanced at the titles. "All right, Lockhart. Just remember to return them," he said, watching as the quill added his name to the borrowing ledger.

Lockhart, however, made no move to leave. Pulling up a stool, he sat across from him. "How's the potion business going? I've heard it's quite a success."

Morin chuckled softly. "Yes, it's been... hectic. With these new potions, demand was overwhelming at first. But things have finally stabilized. Now that customers are regular, it's all about keeping the supply steady."

Lockhart smiled, pleased with his progress. "That's good to hear. Stability means reliability in our line of work."

"Speaking of which, how is that... world of yours?" Morin asked, giving him a sly smile. "The Vientiane World, isn't it?"

Lockhart laughed, shaking his head modestly. "Oh, it's nothing much. Just a small space, enhanced thanks to the Sorcerer Supreme's guidance. I'm glad to see it flourishing, though."

"It's more than just flourishing," Morin replied, arching a brow. "I've been inside the Vientiane World—it's impressive. I must say, you're quite the economic visionary, implementing a magic card system. Who would have thought it'd work at Kamar-Taj?"

Lockhart shrugged, but the pride was evident in his eyes. "It's a system based on stability. The Vientiane World is not only a cafe and trading post but a community hub. It fosters growth."

"Your concept of using magic potions as a general currency—genius," Morin said with admiration. "It's stabilized transactions between sorcerers, something Kamar-Taj never achieved before."

Lockhart leaned back, savoring the compliment. "Well, it wouldn't work without the right resources. The magic potions I provide give it value. Consistent supply is everything."

"And you're the only one who can provide that," Morin noted with a grin. "Brilliant."

Lockhart nodded, but his expression turned serious. He reached into his robe and drew out a small bronze token, placing it on the desk. The simple, tarnished surface belied its importance.

"Morin, do you recognize this?" he asked, watching her face closely.

Morin's eyes widened. "A search warrant?" he whispered, glancing from the token to Lockhart. "You've been given authority as a law enforcer?"

"Temporarily," Lockhart clarified, his voice low but firm. "The Sorcerer Supreme entrusted me with locating a potential traitor within our ranks—someone feeding information to Dormammu's cultists."

Morin stared at him, his expression both surprised and impressed. "That's... quite the responsibility," he said, choosing his words carefully.

Lockhart nodded, his gaze intense. "It's a critical mission. The Sorcerer Supreme believes that my connection to the mortal realm could help flush out those who are betraying us from within."

A moment of silence passed between them before Lockhart spoke again. "Morin, I want you to join me. Help me lead this search."

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