Milk_Is_My_Drug
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Chapter 71: Dark Prophecy
🕑 Added 2025-04-14 16:07:20 +0000 UTCDumbledore sat at his desk, his expression grave as he processed the information Snape had delivered. Voldemort’s words echoed in his mind: “Dante has Horcruxes. He’s retrieving them, growing stronger over time.”
This was a critical piece of information. If Dante was still searching for his Horcruxes, it meant he wasn’t yet at full strength. He wasn’t completely invincible—not yet. But the implications were troubling. Dante’s power was already immense, and if he was reclaiming fragments of his soul, his strength would only grow.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he considered his options. A conflict with Dante was not something to be taken lightly. The ancient wizard was a force unlike anything the world had seen. Yet, there was a small chance that Dante’s grand plan was not something they needed to worry about—that it was a personal goal, unrelated to the wizarding world at large.
But was that a risk Dumbledore could afford to take?
A few days later, Dumbledore met with Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. The Dark Lord’s appearance was startling—his red eyes filled with fear and desperation. It was a sight Dumbledore had never expected to see.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Voldemort said, his voice strained. “We cannot wait any longer. Dante is growing stronger by the day. A year or two ago, he was your equal. What about now? What about a year from now? We must act before it’s too late.”
Dumbledore sighed, his blue eyes filled with weariness. “I understand your concern. But I am not ready to start a conflict with Dante. There is still much we don’t know about him. I’ve learned that he was the teacher of the four founders and the true founder of Hogwarts. There is more to uncover, and I am putting all of my efforts into that.”
Voldemort’s expression darkened. “Time is not on our side, Albus Dumbledore. Every day we delay, Dante grows stronger. We cannot wait indefinitely.”
Dumbledore nodded, his gaze steady. “Hogwarts will start in a week. I will give you my answer by then.”
Voldemort’s lips curled into a faint sneer, but he said nothing more. With a final, lingering glance, he Disapparated, leaving Dumbledore alone in the clearing.
When Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts, his mind was made up. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer. The stakes were too high.
He summoned Fawkes, his loyal phoenix, and sent out a series of messages. It was time to reactivate the Order of the Phoenix.
The members of the Order began to gather in the hidden meeting room at Hogwarts, their faces filled with curiosity and concern. Dumbledore stood at the head of the table, his expression calm but resolute.
“My friends,” he began, his voice steady, “I have called you here because the wizarding world faces a threat unlike any we have seen before. I cannot share all the details yet, but I need you to be ready. Prepare yourselves, for the storm is coming.”
The members of the Order exchanged uneasy glances, but they nodded in understanding. They trusted Dumbledore, and if he said the situation was dire, they would be ready.
As the meeting concluded, Dumbledore returned to his office, his mind racing. He wasn’t ready to share the full truth about Dante—not yet. But he knew he couldn’t delay much longer. The ancient wizard was a ticking time bomb, and Dumbledore had to be prepared for the worst.
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The headmaster’s office in Hogwarts was alive with the of activity as the professors gathered for their annual meeting in preparation for the new school year. The long table was filled with familiar faces—McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, and others—all discussing the curriculum and plans for the upcoming term.
Alastor Moody, his magical eye spinning wildly, sat at the far end of the table. He had reluctantly agreed to return as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor after Dumbledore’s insistence. “You’re needed more than ever, Alastor,” Dumbledore had said, and though Moody had grumbled, he couldn’t refuse.
As the meeting progressed, the atmosphere was calm, almost routine. But then, something unexpected happened.
Sybill Trelawney, who had been sitting quietly at the table, suddenly stiffened. Her eyes rolled back, and her body began to convulse. The room fell silent as the professors turned to her in shock.
Trelawney’s voice, deep and echoing, filled the room. It was not her usual airy tone but something far more ominous, as if the words were being forced through her by some unseen force.
“When time’s veil shatters and light floods the land,
A seeker ancient shall ascend, unbound by mortal line.
Through ashen skies, his voice shall call,
In his shadow, history ends—darkness consumes all.
Death’s chains shall break, time’s rivers bend,
His will knows no end, where none dare tread.
Beware his rise, the old world’s doom,
For in his light, none shall rise from ruin’s tomb.
The seeker’s hand unweaves the sky, his voice stills the storm,
Yet darkness dwells within, a fire cold and warm.
Fate’s threads fray, no dawn remains,
In his shadow, all is lost—only silence reigns.”
As the final words echoed through the hall, Trelawney slumped forward, unconscious. The room was deathly silent, the sudden sinister prophecy took everyone by surprise.
McGonagall was the first to move, rushing to Trelawney’s side. She checked her pulse, then looked up at Dumbledore, her face pale. “Albus,” she said, her voice trembling, “what was that?”
Dumbledore’s expression was dark, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of dread and resolve. “A Dark Prophecy,” he said quietly. “The darkest I have ever heard.”
Professor Flitwick, his small frame tense with worry, spoke up. “But what does it mean?”
It was Snape who answered, his voice cold and grim. “It means Dante Malfoy must be stopped at any cost.”
The room fell silent once more, the professors exchanging confused glances. The prophecy had painted a terrifying picture—an ancient being of unimaginable power, unbound by mortality, whose rise would bring about doom of the world and the end of history itself. What did this have to do with Dante Malfoy?
Dumbledore stood, his presence commanding the room like a silent storm. “We must prepare,” he said, his voice calm but laced with urgency. “The storm is coming, and hesitation is no longer an option.”
The professors exchanged uneasy glances but nodded in agreement. Whatever loomed on the horizon, it had to be stopped. Dumbledore’s mind raced—the prophecy had confirmed his darkest fears. Dante’s plan was no mere threat; it was a cataclysm waiting to unfold.
The stakes had never been higher. As Dumbledore’s gaze swept the room, he knew the coming battle would test them in ways they could scarcely fathom.
The Dark Prophecy had been spoken. The wizarding world teetered on the edge of ruin.
Dumbledore closed his eyes, his voice steady but heavy. “Severus, inform Voldemort that we move against Dante at the start of this year. Tell him to bring every Death Eater. We will need every ally, every ounce of power we can muster.”
Snape nodded grimly, knowing well how high the stakes are. The other professors stiffened, their shock palpable, but Dumbledore pressed on. “Minerva, recall the Order of the Phoenix. Tell them it is urgent. We are aligning with the Death Eaters to face an evil far greater than Voldemort. I will explain everything when we gather.”
That evening, the Order of the Phoenix gathered once more. The atmosphere was heavy with tension as Dumbledore stood before them, his usual twinkle absent from his eyes. He began to speak, revealing everything they knew about Dante Malfoy—his ancient origins, his mastery of dark arts, his role as the true founder of Hogwarts, and the chilling prophecy delivered by Trelawney. As the weight of the revelations settled over the room, there was a collective silence. Then, one by one, the members of the Order voiced their agreement: this ancient evil, Dante Malfoy, had to be stopped at all costs. Even if it meant forming an uneasy alliance with the Death Eaters, the threat he posed was too great to ignore. The lines between light and dark blurred as the Order prepared to face a foe unlike any they had ever known
