Dante stood in the center of Snape's office, his expression as calm as ever. Snape stood behind his desk, his dark gaze fixed on the boy. "We're waiting for the headmaster," Snape said.
Moments later, the door opened, and Albus Dumbledore entered, followed closely by Professor McGonagall. Snape leaned on the desk.
"Now that everyone is here, I want to know: what do you have to do with Argus Filch becoming a wizard overnight? What did you do, Dante?"
Dante's expression changed, disapproval crossing his face.
"Argus wouldn't have told you, so you used Legilimency on him, didn't you?" he said.
Dumbledore didn't deny it. Instead, he offered an explanation "This is a much bigger matter than some healing, Dante. A non-magical person becoming a wizard has profound implications for the magical world. We needed to know the truth."
Dante's eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue. Instead, he looked at each of them in turn, his gaze piercing. "What I did is not your business," he said finally. "Argus showed he deserved to have magic. He has a passion and dedication most wizards in this world lack. I won't deny him the chance to fulfill his potential."
Dumbledore's expression softened, but his tone remained serious. "When this becomes public, many will come after you for this knowledge, Dante. They will do anything for it, you must understand the consequences."
Dante chuckled lightly "It's fine," Dante said, his voice almost casual. "I can easily take care of anyone who doesn't realize how lucky they are to be alive."
Dumbledore's face darkened. "Are you saying you would take the lives of those who come after you?"
Dante shook his head "I won't take their lives. I will give them death."
The room fell silent, the weight of Dante's words hanging in the air. Even Snape, who is no stranger to dark magic, looked unsettled. Dumbledore's voice was grave when he spoke again. "Life is a sacred thing, Dante. It should be protected. Learning and researching are meant to improve the quality of life, not to unleash chaos. Unrestrained advancement is a disaster that will hurt everyone."
Dante's face grew colder, his silver eyes glinting like steel. "Advancement comes first," he said, his voice firm. "Chaos and evil are not excuses to stay still. Why do you think there are all kinds of dark arts in the library? It was meant to archive and spread knowledge without restraint. Your words don't align with the purpose of Hogwarts. If you can't understand that much, then perhaps you should retire. You're not suited to be here."
With that, Dante turned and walked toward the door, ignoring the stunned professors. He paused at the threshold and looked back at Dumbledore, his gaze ice cold. "You removed 'Secrets of the Darkest Art' from the library, didn't you? I put a new copy there. If I find you've removed a book again, I won't be so civil with you."
Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.
Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock. He had removed that book fifty years ago, deeming it too dangerous to remain in the library. How had Dante known about it? And where had he gotten another copy? Then it hit him: the Grey Lady, Helena Ravenclaw. She must have told Dante about the book—and perhaps even guided him to a copy or helped him create a new one. She was, after all, a repository of knowledge.
Snape broke the silence, his voice low. "What is this book he spoke of?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "It's a book filled with the worst kind of magic—magic so cruel and evil that it should never see the light of day, let alone fall into the hands of children."
McGonagall frowned, her expression troubled. "And Mr Malfoy knew about it, even had a new copy to replace the old. How are we going to deal with him? He's brilliant, but he's walking a dark path."
Dumbledore's face was grim. "I don't know," he admitted. "The boy is too intelligent and too powerful. I'm not even confident in my chances to restrain him anymore."
Mcgonagall and Snape had grim looks on their faces, Dumbledore was a testament of how far Dante's achievements in magic were despite his young age. They both had to wonder, if he were to become a dark lord, who would be able to even resist?
___________
Two days later, the Great Hall was alive with anticipation as students from Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons gathered for the selection of the Triwizard Tournament champions. The Goblet of Fire stood in the center of the hall, its blue flames dancing hypnotically. Dumbledore stepped forward, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.
"It is time to select our champions," he announced, his tone solemn yet filled with excitement. The flames of the Goblet shifted from blue to red, and a piece of paper flew out, landing neatly in Dumbledore's hand. "The Durmstrang champion," he declared, "is Viktor Krum!"
The hall erupted in applause as Viktor stood, his expression a mix of pride and determination. He shook Dumbledore's hand and made his way to the trophy room to await the other champions. The process repeated itself, and soon Fleur Delacour was announced as the Beauxbatons champion. She, too, shook Dumbledore's hand and joined Viktor in the trophy room.
The Goblet's flames shifted once more, and another piece of paper flew out. Dumbledore caught it, his eyes scanning the name. For a brief moment, he froze, his expression one of surprise. Then he cleared his throat and announced "The Hogwarts champion is Dante Malfoy."
The applause was thunderous, though Dante himself seemed indifferent. He stood, shook Dumbledore's hand, and made his way to the trophy room with the same calm demeanor he always carried. In truth, Dumbledore was taken aback. He had never expected Dante to participate in the tournament, and he was right—Dante wouldn't have, if not for Lucius Malfoy's request. It was a favor to his family, nothing more.
Dante entered the trophy room, where Viktor and Fleur stood apart, their excitement and nervousness obvious. He didn't speak to them, nor did he acknowledge their presence. Instead, he walked to the nearest chair and sat down, his posture relaxed as if he were waiting for a mundane meeting rather than the start of a dangerous competition.
Moments later, Harry Potter hesitantly walked into the room, his face a mixture of confusion and fear. All three champions turned to look at him, their expressions varying from surprise to suspicion. Harry swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
Dumbledore entered shortly after, his face stern as he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Did you put your name in the Goblet, Harry? Or did you ask someone to do it for you?" he asked, his voice firm but not unkind.
Harry shook his head nervously. "No, sir! I didn't! I swear"
Before Dumbledore could press further, the other headmasters and judges arrived, their voices raised in protest. Madame Maxime and Igor Karkaroff were particularly vocal, accusing Hogwarts of cheating. Bartemius Crouch lingered in the background, his expression unreadable, while Moody's magical eye focused intently on Harry.
Dante watched the scene with mild amusement. He suspected Moody was behind Harry's name being entered and wondered what their plan was. After a moment of thought, he decided to play along and help keep Harry in the competition.
Dante stood up, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Okay, that's enough," he said, his tone calm but commanding. "Hogwarts doesn't need to cheat by including a fourth-year. Frankly, I'm overkill for this competition. Even if you headmasters participated, it wouldn't make much difference with me here. So sit down and stop wasting everyone's time."
The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Dante. He continued, addressing Dumbledore directly. "It's no different from the second year. Potter can't pull this off, but it's a magical contract, so he has to participate anyway. As for who put his name in, it doesn't matter. The Goblet can be tricked with a powerful Confundus Charm or by adding a fourth school to the rules. Of course, we could always feed everyone here Veritaserum and see where this goes."
Igor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime exchanged dark looks, clearly offended by Dante's bluntness. The other champions, too, felt belittled by his words. Igor stepped forward, pointing his cane at Dante. "What is Lucius teaching you to be so disrespectful?" he demanded.
Dante's eyes glowed faintly and smiled coldly. Before he could respond, Snape stepped in, his voice sharp. "Mr. Malfoy, killing or beating down other school headmasters will reflect poorly on our house. I ask you to refrain from that."
Dante glanced at Snape, then stepped back. Snape turned to Igor, his tone as blunt as Dante's. "As harsh as his words are, they're not wrong. If there's anything unfair here, it's Mr. Malfoy competing against other students."
Moody, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. "You could put additional rules to limit Dante Malfoy," he suggested. "I believe that would compensate for having an additional fourth-year student."
Madame Maxime and Igor hesitated, then reluctantly agreed to the terms. Dumbledore looked at Dante "Is that acceptable to you, Dante?"
Dante shrugged, his indifference clear.