Milk_Is_My_Drug
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Chapter 115: The Stadium of Secrets
🕑 Added 2025-05-17 10:38:01 +0000 UTCBeyond the Black Lake, an enormous structure stood tall against the horizon. Dante, working alone, had constructed a stadium second only to the legendary Quidditch World Cup venue. Whether or not it would be filled to capacity was uncertain, but he had built it anyway. The grand stadium faced an imposing stage, offering a perfect view of both the Black Lake and Hogwarts in the background.
The Daily Prophet wasted no time in publishing images of the stadium, fueling speculation about the upcoming lecture. What could possibly warrant such an extravagant setting? Why had the event been announced with such urgency? Dumbledore and Amelia Bones, for reasons they did not disclose, continued to encourage attendance, deepening the mystery. The wizarding community was abuzz with curiosity and skepticism.
Yet, as excitement built, Dante remained absent. He had no interactions with the witches and wizards discussing his lecture, nor did he reach out to anyone—not even his own family. The Malfoys had learned of the stadium’s existence through the news, just like everyone else. And just as mysteriously as he had built it, Dante disappeared once more.
Far beneath the castle, hidden at the heart of Hogwarts, Dante sat atop a gravestone. The air around him was still, the ancient magic of the tomb pressing against him like a silent witness. With a sigh, he spoke softly.
"This is the whole story."
Beside him, a shadowed figure of an old man stood, his ghostly features unreadable. He looked at Dante with quiet contemplation before finally speaking.
"To think I would change so much."
Dante gave a weak smile, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "A long life changes people. I didn’t realize that until I lived one myself. In the end, we failed."
The ghost sighed, his expression a mix of resignation and determination. "We can still try a few things. The outcome could change."
Dante shook his head. "No. I’ve done more than enough. I’m not going to try anymore. I’m just too tired to continue."
The old man hesitated, his ethereal form flickering for a moment. "Fine," he finally said, though reluctance was clear in his tone. "You are the complete one. I still feel pity about this, though."
Dante gave him one last weak smile. "Sorry. It came to this"
Then he stood up and walked away.
___________
Dante stepped out of the Hogwarts library, the heavy doors creaking slightly as they closed behind him. He barely had time to take a breath before he found himself face to face with Dumbledore and McGonagall, both standing in front of the library as if they had been waiting for him.
"Argus saw you disappearing into the library yesterday and despite our search we couldn’t find you" Dumbledore said calmly, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Dante with quiet curiosity.
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Have you been waiting here since yesterday?"
It was McGonagall who answered, arms crossed and tone sharp. "Yes. He was"
Dumbledore took a step closer, his voice softer but insistent. "I wanted to talk with you. Call it the curiosity of an old man, but I must ask, what are you planning to do, Dante? You didn’t give us details, but I still went along with you because I trust that this is serious. That said, I would still like to know what all of this is about."
Dante met his gaze evenly. "It’s a long history, and you’ll understand everything in two days. Just wait."
Before either professor could respond, he disapparated, vanishing into thin air without a sound.
McGonagall let out a huff of frustration. "How does he do that? Apparating inside Hogwarts is impossible!"
Dumbledore stroked his beard, a curious glint in his eyes. "That is something I have yet to figure out."
___________
Dante appeared inside Malfoy Manor, the familiar halls greeting him with their cold elegance. Without hesitation, he called for his family to gather.
Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco entered shortly after, their expressions filled with curiosity rather than concern. Dante’s disappearances had long since ceased to surprise them. What truly intrigued them now was the grand stadium he had built, which had become the talk of the wizarding world overnight.
Once they were seated, Dante faced them, his expression unreadable. "I have a story to share with you."
The room remained silent as he spoke, his voice steady yet heavy with meaning. As the story unfolded, Narcissa’s face paled, and Draco’s eyes widened in disbelief. Lucius, however, listened with an eerie calmness, as if piecing together something he had long knew.
When Dante finished, the room was silent.
Lucius was the first to speak, his voice measured. "Why the sudden change of heart? You never wanted your mother to know about this."
Narcissa turned to her husband sharply, eyes narrowing. "You knew? All along? Is this why you’ve been acting so strange all these years?"
Lucius hesitated for a moment, then gave a weak smile and nodded. "Dante didn’t want me to tell you."
Dante exhaled, folding his arms. "It was my decision to keep it from you, Mother. But that’s no longer necessary. You would have to find out soon enough."
Lucius leaned forward, watching his son carefully. "What are you planning, Dante?"
Dante’s gaze was serene. "To make up for some of my mistakes."
___________
The first of September had arrived, and with it, an unprecedented gathering in the newly built stadium near Hogwarts. Wizards and witches from all over Britain and beyond had come, filling nearly every seat in the grand structure. The turnout was staggering—students, parents, Ministry officials, and even representatives from foreign magical communities were present. Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, led by Madame Maxime and other esteemed professors, sat together, their faces filled with curiosity and caution.
Unbeknownst to many, among the attendees were Death Eaters, carefully disguised and hidden in the crowd. Even Voldemort himself had come, concealed by powerful magic, watching intently. He was too intrigued by Dante’s sudden actions to ignore this event.
In another section of the stadium, Harry Potter sat with Hermione and the Weasley family, whispering among themselves. Across from them, the Malfoys sat with other noble families, their expressions a mix of apprehension and expectation.
Then, without fanfare, Dante Malfoy apparated onto the stage. The murmurs that had filled the stadium fell into a joined silence. He stood tall in the center, his silver eyes scanning the immense crowd.
Dante raised his hand slightly, and the runes he had inscribed around the stadium activated, amplifying his voice with perfect clarity so that not a single word would be lost to the masses.
“We have so much to cover,” he began, his tone calm and measured, yet commanding. “So, I am skipping the pleasantries. Today, we are going to talk about the history of many wizards. And the first is Ekrizdis, the creator of Dementors.”
A hushed wave of shock rippled through the audience. Many heard the name before. Even Dumbledore’s gaze sharpened in focus, while Voldemort’s hidden form narrowed his eyes.
Dante continued, “Most of you know of the horrors he unleashed upon the world, but none of you know him. But after today, none of you will forget.”
As Dante’s voice carried across the massive stadium, the gathered wizards and witches sat in rapt attention. The silence that followed his declaration was soon broken by the sudden appearance of a dementor floating onto the stage. A wave of chilling coldness spread through the audience, and some instinctively reached for their wands. However, Dante did not react with alarm. Instead, he nodded at the creature, acknowledging its presence.
A soft silver light began to seep out of the dementor, an unnatural glow that defied the ominous nature of the creature. The glow intensified, forming into a distinct shape. Gasps spread through the crowd as the light solidified into a spectral figure—an elderly man with deep, wise eyes and an air of quiet dignity.
Nicolas Flamel.
Murmurs of shock spread through the crowd. Those who recognized the legendary alchemist could not believe their eyes. For centuries, Flamel had been one of the most revered figures in magical history, known for creating the only known Philosopher’s Stone and achieving immortality alongside his wife, Perenelle. His disappearance from public life had been widely acknowledged as his eventual passing, yet here he stood, his ghostly form manifesting before thousands.
In the audience, Dumbledore’s expression darkened with shock and deep contemplation. He had counted Nicolas as a dear friend, and for many years, he had assumed the man had simply chosen to fade away into history after destroying the Philosopher’s Stone. But now, the sight of his ghost raised many questions, ones Dumbledore was not sure he wanted answered.
Nicolas’ spectral form turned towards Dante, his gaze steady, unreadable. “You were serious about this,” he finally said, his voice hollow yet firm, carrying across the stadium like an echo from the past.
Dante met his gaze without hesitation. “Share the truth,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And I will end your torment.” Then, with a sharp edge in his voice, he added, “Unlike you, I am no hypocrite.”
A tense silence followed his words. Thousands of eyes darted between Dante and Flamel, confusion rippling through the audience. Even Dumbledore, for all his wisdom, did not understand what Dante meant.
What truth was Nicolas Flamel hiding? And what did Dante mean by his final words?
Comments
GodOfDestruction 2.4
Argh not another cliffhanger😔
