Milk_Is_My_Drug
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Chapter 72: The Silver Reckoning
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 16:08:35 +0000 UTCThe Hogwarts Express chugged along the tracks, its rhythmic clatter a familiar sound as students chatted and laughed in their compartments. Dante and Draco walked through the train, their presence drawing curious glances from their peers. As Dante passed by compartments, his eyes noticed something unusual—. He didn’t react, however, and continued walking until he and Draco found an empty compartment.
Once inside, Dante cast a silencing spell and turned to Draco. “There are a few students using Polyjuice Potion,” he said calmly.
Draco’s eyes widened in surprise. “Polyjuice? Who would—”
Dante cut him off with a faint smile. “It seems my guess was correct. They’re planning some kind of trap.”
Draco’s face paled. “Should we leave?”
Dante shook his head. “No. I want to see what they’re planning. And remember, my protections will keep you safe.”
Draco nodded, though his unease was evident. Soon, Crabbe and Goyle entered the compartment, their usual boisterous demeanor replaced by awkward silence. Draco noticed immediately that they were acting differently—too quiet, too stiff. He recalled how Harry and Ron had impersonated them in their second year and decided to play along, chatting animatedly while the two impostors offered sparse comments. Dante watched with an approving look, silently commending Draco’s quick thinking.
When the train arrived at Hogwarts, Dante noted no less than thirty individuals using Polyjuice Potion, all disguised as Slytherin students. He ignored them as he and Draco made their way to the Great Hall.
The Sorting Ceremony began, and Dante observed with mild amusement as only five children were assigned to Slytherin—all of them using Polyjuice Potion. The last boy to be sorted sat in front of Dante, and though his appearance was that of a child, Dante recognized him instantly: Voldemort.
Dante marveled at the sheer amount of Polyjuice being used. The potion took an entire month to prepare, and he wondered if they had consumed the entire Ministry’s stash for this plan. He also noticed the hidden runes of extension charms in the Great Hall, designed to separate the Slytherin table from the rest. It was clear the attack would happen here.
As Dumbledore finished his welcoming speech, the extension rune activated, pushing the Slytherin table away from the others. At the same moment, Voldemort—still disguised as a child—raised his wand to strike Dante. But Dante was faster. He apparated back to the center of the hall, a faint smile on his face as he looked at Dumbledore.
“Are you so paranoid,” Dante said, his voice calm but cutting, “that you needed to join hands with that buffoon?”
The students gasped, their eyes wide with shock as the sudden changes. The professors stood, their wands pointed at Dante. Dumbledore’s expression was grim, his hope of a surprise attack gone.
“Surrender, Dante,” Dumbledore said, his voice firm. “We will show you mercy.”
Dante laughed, the sound cold and mocking. “Mercy? From you?”
Before anyone could react, Dumbledore raised his wand, sending a blue shockwave hurtling toward Dante. At the same time, the professors moved to shield the students, their faces filled with urgency. The plan to trap Dante had backfired, and now the students were in danger.
The Slytherin table, filled with Death Eaters and Order of the Phoenix members disguised as students, charged toward Dante, their wands blazing with spells. Draco remained seated, he was the only one left on the table, his expression of awe as he watched the chaos unfold. He trusted his brother’s prowess and knew there was nothing he could do to help.
As spells flew toward him, Dante stood unmoved, his silver eyes gleaming with cold amusement. He raised his wand, and a shimmering shield materialized around him. Dumbledore’s spell struck the shield, exploding in a burst of light and sending a cloud of dust billowing through the hall.
The Polyjuice army, their disguises now irrelevant, unleashed a barrage of spells toward Dante. The spells missed their mark, hurtling instead toward the screaming students. The professors and senior students reacted quickly, conjuring shields to protect the younger ones. Madam Pomfrey’s voice rang out above the noise, urging the students to flee the Great Hall.
Dante didn’t wait for the dust to settle. He Apparated behind the group of attackers. With a flick of his wand, he sent a spell toward one of them. The man screamed as blue flames engulfed his body, reducing him to ashes in moments. The other attackers froze, their faces pale with horror as they stared at Dante, who was still smiling, his eyes now glowing with a silver light.
Dante waved his wand, and the ground between him and the attackers turned to water. A massive wave surged forward, threatening to engulf them. Voldemort reacted quickly, casting Fiendfyre that twisted into the shape of a giant python. Dumbledore followed suit, his flames forming a massive bird. The two fiery creatures collided with the water, blocking its advance.
But Dante wasn’t done. He cast “Glacies Aetas,” and the hall fell silent as the flames and water froze instantly, turning the Great Hall into a frozen battlefield.
Voldemort shattered the ice sculpture with a spell, while Dumbledore sent the shards hurtling toward Dante. Dante waved his wand, and a wall of ice rose from the ground, blocking the attack. With another wave, he shattered the wall, sending the shards back toward his attackers.
The joined forces of the Order and the Death Eaters blocked the shards, their wands moving in unison. For a moment, the battle paused, both sides catching their breath.
Dumbledore stepped forward, his voice steady but strained. “Surrender, Dante. This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed.”
Dante’s smile didn’t falter. “Your fear and self righteousness blinds you…. And you didn’t bring enough people,” he said, his tone almost playful. “Should we take this to the next level?”
Before anyone could react, Dante waved his wand. Two birds appeared in front of him—one silver and radiant, the other red and menacing. Many recognized the silver bird as a Patronus, but the red one was something entirely unfamiliar. The two birds merged into one, then plunged into the ground.
A sense of dread filled the hall. Voldemort screamed, “Attack him now!”
The group obeyed, unleashing a torrent of spells. Dante transfigured the ground in front of him into a thick metal wall, blocking the attacks effortlessly.
On the other side of the hall, the merged bird emerged from the ground and entered the body of one of the attackers—Arthur Weasley. He screamed in agony, his body convulsing as his Polyjuice disguise melted away. He collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
The sight of Arthur’s body ignited a renewed fury in the attackers. They charged at Dante, their spells flying wildly.
Dante Apparated into the middle of the group, his movements too fast to follow. He transfigured the ground beneath him into spears, impaling the four closest attackers, killing them instantly. With a flick of his wand, he cast Confringo, sending two more flying backward.
An Expelliarmus shot toward him from behind, but Dante dodged it effortlessly. He turned to see McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Alastor Moody approaching, their wands raised.
Voldemort, seeing Dante distracted, sent a Killing Curse hurtling toward him. Dante glanced at the spell, conjured a purple orb that absorbed it, then shot it back toward a nearby attacker, killing them.
“How many of you will die,” Dante said, his voice cold, “before you realize how hopeless this fight really is?”
Dumbledore stepped forward, his expression resolute. “As long as we live, we will take you down.”
The group, including the professors, began to surround Dante, their wands raised.
Dante’s smile disappeared, replaced by a look of ruthlessness. “I’ve shown you enough mercy,” he said. “I’m not playing anymore. This is your last warning.”
The group tensed, their faces pale. This entire fight—this chaos—had just been Dante playing?
Dante pointed his wand to the nearby ground and shot a bolt of lightning. The water from the earlier attacks carried the charge, electrocuting half of the attackers and knocking them to the ground. In an instant, half of the combined forces were incapacitated.
The remaining attackers unleashed a desperate barrage of spells, but Dante Disapparated, reappearing behind the four professors—McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Moody. With four quick blasts, he sent them flying across the hall, their bodies slamming into the ground.
Voldemort and the remaining fighters continued their assault, but suddenly, they were attacked from the side. Spells flew toward them, knocking many to the ground. The survivors, along with the students who hadn’t fled, watched in horror as Dumbledore turned on his allies.
Dumbledore’s eyes glowed silver, matching the eerie light of the Elder Wand in his hand and Dante’s eyes. Dante smiled coldly as he and Dumbledore—now under Dante’s control—sent spells toward the remaining enemies. The battle was swift and brutal. Some died instantly, while others were left injured and groaning. Voldemort dropped to his knees, clutching the stump where his arm had been severed.
Dante walked slowly toward Dumbledore, who was growing visibly weaker by the moment. The headmaster extended the Elder Wand, his hand trembling. Dante took it, his expression unreadable. Dumbledore dropped to his knees, groaning in pain. His face aged rapidly, as if decades had passed in mere seconds.
“I warned you,” Dante said, his voice cold and cutting. “The wand wouldn’t make you invincible. But I didn’t mention it could be your downfall. How did it feel, Albus Dumbledore, waving my Horcrux around, borrowing my strength?”
Dumbledore’s eyes widened in horror. The Elder Wand—a Horcrux? The realization struck him like a blow, and he slumped further, his body frail and broken.
In front of everyone present, Dante’s entire being was bathed in silver light. When the light faded, his hair was completely silver, his presence even more imposing than before. He dropped the wand back into Dumbledore’s hand. “You can have it,” he said. “It’s just a normal stick now.”
Dante walked back to the center of the hall, his cold smile returning. “Let’s see what you can do now,” he said, “now that I’ve retrieved my soul fragment.”
The Polyjuice effects had worn off from most of the attackers, revealing their true identities. One black-haired woman, her face twisted with rage and madness, stood and fired a Killing Curse at Dante. He didn’t dodge or block. The curse hit him square in the chest—and nothing happened.
The woman’s crazed look turned to confusion. Dante’s voice was calm as he explained, “My magic and soul have grown to the point where I’m immune to the Killing Curse.”
Her confusion turned to pure fear as Dante pointed his wand. A green light shot out, and the woman fell lifeless to the ground.
Dante proceeded to kill the downed enemies one by one, his movements methodical and cold. The students watched in horror, their faces pale. Dumbledore screamed for him to stop, but Dante didn’t listen.
Then, an Expelliarmus spell flew toward Dante. He didn’t block it—it was too weak to affect him now. He turned to see Harry Potter and a group of students, their wands raised, fear and anger in their eyes.
“You have nothing to do with this,” Dante said, his voice calm but firm. “Stay out of it.”
Ron stepped forward, his face red with rage and full of tears. “You killed my father!”
His twin brothers stood by his side, in the same state as he was, all three of them raised their wands and attacked. Dante raised his hand and a shield conjured in front of him blocking the three curses.
The whole time, Dante’s expression didn’t change. “All students, leave the hall now,” he said. “Whoever stays after thirty seconds will be killed.”
Some students lowered their wands, their faces filled with fear, and began to leave. Harry hesitated, torn between his anger and the reality of the situation.
Then, Luna Lovegood stepped forward, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos around her. She walked toward Dante, her eyes steady.
Dante raised an eyebrow. “What do you think of yourself doing?”
Luna shook her head. “I’m here to ask you to not kill anymore.”
Dante didn’t react and asked. “Do you really think I’ll stop because you’re asking?”
Luna smiled faintly. “Why not? Friends do each other favors.”
Dante chuckled. “This is new and makes some sense” he said. “Fine. You win.”
He turned to Draco, who was still sitting at the Slytherin table, his face pale. “Draco, we’re leaving.”
Draco stood, his movements slow and hesitant. He walked to his brother, his eyes fixed on the ground littered with corpses.
Dante looked at Dumbledore one last time. “The deaths of these people are on you,” he said.
With that, he Disapparated, taking Draco with him. The Great Hall fell silent.
Comments
Milk_Is_My_Drug
This was exactly what I was thinking when I wrote this chapter :)
HugoH
Albus Dumbledore, champion of dumb idea : Let’s use the The philosopher stone as a lure for Voldemort in a school full of children. Let’s fight the greatest dark wizard ever in the middle of the welcoming feast. Even better let’s invite Voldy and his death eater.
