Milk_Is_My_Drug
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Chapter 68: The Depths Of The Darkness
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 15:08:11 +0000 UTCAs soon as Severus Snape returned to Hogwarts, he made his way to the headmaster’s office. Snape wasted no time in relaying everything he had seen and heard during his meeting with Voldemort.
Dumbledore sat in his chair, his fingers steepled as he listened intently. When Snape finished, the headmaster remained silent for a long moment, his blue eyes distant and thoughtful. Finally, he spoke.
“It seems Dante has traumatized Voldemort,” Dumbledore said, his voice calm but tinged with disbelief. “To the point where he feels he has no choice but to seek an alliance with me, of all people.”
Snape nodded, his expression grim. “What are you going to do, Headmaster? Will you take this chance to deal with the Dark Lord?”
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “I want to hear what Voldemort has to say before making any decisions. Acting rashly could lead to unintended consequences.”
Snape agreed, and over the next few days, he acted as a messenger between the two powerful wizards. Finally, they agreed to meet in the Forbidden Forest under the cover of night. Both Dumbledore and Voldemort believed Snape was on their side, each convinced the double agent was tricking the other.
The night of the meeting arrived, and the Forbidden Forest was eerily quiet. Dumbledore stood beneath the canopy of ancient trees, his wand held loosely at his side. Snape lingered in the shadows, his presence a silent reminder of the delicate balance of trust and deception.
Voldemort emerged from the darkness, his appearance startlingly different from the snake-like figure Dumbledore had last seen. He now had hair, a nose, and skin that, while pale, looked almost human. But he was sweating profusely, his face twisted in pain.
Dumbledore greeted him with a faint smile. “Tom,” he said, his voice gentle. “It seems the days have not been kind to you.”
Voldemort’s red eyes flashed with anger. “My name is Voldemort now,” he hissed. “And it is all thanks to that monster, Dante Malfoy.” He paused, his breathing labored. “Tell me, Professor Dumbledore, did you truly not see any signs of what he really is?”
Dumbledore’s expression grew thoughtful. “You’ll need to be more specific, Voldemort. All I see is a prodigy—a brilliant child with a wide future and a troubling personality.”
Voldemort scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “You have grown old, Professor Dumbledore. Blind to the truth.”
Dumbledore’s smile didn’t waver. “Explain.”
The Dark Lord’s next words sent a chill through the air. “Dante Malfoy claimed to be a wizard who conquered death thousands of years ago. He said he was the one who created Horcruxes and is the progenitor of the dark arts.”
Dumbledore’s eyes widened, and even Snape, hidden in the shadows, stiffened in shock. The headmaster remained silent for a long moment, his mind racing. Finally, he spoke.
“And you believed him?”
Voldemort nodded gravely. “Yes, I did. That monster has more magical power than you, Dumbledore. He understood the state of my body better than I did with just a glance. He cast spells and curses I’ve never heard of, despite dedicating my life to the dark arts. I looked into his past—a child upgrading potions, creating new fields of magic, developing cures for impossible illnesses, counters for curses. How do you explain it?”
Dumbledore’s silence spoke volumes. There were too many strange points about Dante, but the idea that he was an ancient wizard who had conquered death was beyond belief. No one could escape death—not truly.
Voldemort continued, his voice filled with reluctant admiration. “I hate to admit it, but Dante Malfoy is an ancient dark wizard who dedicated himself to the dark arts, he walked that path truly far more than anyone else including me. He is a threat to me, and he cursed me with something I’ve never seen before. I believe you can’t afford to have such an evil dark wizard lurking in the shadows. No one truly knows what he’s planning.”
Dumbledore’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He had always seen potential in Dante, but this revelation changed everything. If Voldemort was telling the truth—and the fear in his eyes suggested he was—then Dante was far more dangerous than anyone had realized.
Finally, Dumbledore spoke. “I need time to think about this.”
Voldemort nodded, his expression grim. “I need to collect my Horcruxes. Once I’m done, I hope we can join hands to put down that monster once and for all.”
With that, the Dark Lord turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Dumbledore and Snape alone in the silent forest.
The walk back to the headmaster’s office was a quiet one, the weight of Voldemort’s revelations pressing heavily on both Dumbledore and Snape. The castle halls were eerily silent. As they ascended the spiral staircase and reached the office, Snape finally broke the silence.
“Do you believe him, Headmaster?” Snape asked, his voice low and measured.
Dumbledore sighed, his face weary and his blue eyes clouded with thought. “I don’t know, Severus,” he admitted. “But his claim can explain many mysteries about Dante.”
“I still remember when you told me about your work with him,” Dumbledore continued, his voice low and thoughtful. “He practiced and knew old, outdated techniques but quickly adapted to the new ones. Perhaps he didn’t learn them from books but from actual experience.”
Snape’s expression grew more troubled as Dumbledore continued. “When I first met him in person during his first year, I tried to look into his mind. To my surprise, not only could I not penetrate his mind, but he attacked my mind. In that confrontation, I lost. I had to avert my eyes before he could read my memories.”
Snape’s eyes widened in shock. This was the first time he was hearing about this. “He overpowered you in a mental duel?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dumbledore nodded gravely. “Yes. It was… humbling, to say the least.”
The headmaster paused, his gaze distant as he recalled another memory. “When Dante returned in his fourth year, the Grey Lady came to him, asking for help to retrieve the diadem that had been stolen by Voldemort. The Grey Lady’s name is Helena Ravenclaw, the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw. She cried to him for help. She must have been the ‘little Helen’ he spoke of. It is probable that she knew him in person when she was a little girl”
Snape’s eyes widened further. He remembered the rumors about Dante’s one-month disappearance and his interactions with the Grey Lady. “To call a nearly thousand-year-old ghost ‘little Helen’… How old is he, exactly?”
Dumbledore’s face was troubled as he continued. “He knew about the book that I removed from the library fifty years ago and could replace it. Perhaps he didn’t have a copy or was helped to do so. It’s possible he was the one who put it there in the first place, long ago.”
The headmaster’s voice grew quieter, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “Then there’s his understanding of the souls, life and control over the Dementors. He can speak their language, but who in this world knows what that language even is? And Lily Potter’s ancient magic—Dante seemed to understand its workings perfectly.”
Dumbledore stopped in his tracks, his expression darkening as another realization struck him. “It also explains Lucius Malfoy’s strange behavior toward Dante. He knows about Dante’s true identity. That’s why it feels like he obeys him—because that’s the reality. Lucius works for him.”
Snape’s face paled. At this moment, he felt as though Dante was the greatest dark wizard in the world. No wonder Voldemort was afraid of him. “The Dark Lord is already a source of chaos and trouble,” Snape said, his voice tense. “But Dante… What if he’s planning something even more dreadful? How do you stop someone like him?”
Dumbledore turned to Snape, his blue eyes piercing. “We need more information. Try to get it from Lucius. Any detail, no matter how small, could be crucial. But be careful, Severus. Very careful. Dante is not someone to be trifled with.”
Snape nodded, his expression grim. He understood the gravity of the situation. If Dante were to turn on him, Snape had no illusions about his chances of survival. If even the Dark Lord couldn’t resist Dante, what hope did he have?
The headmaster placed a hand on Snape’s shoulder. “We are dealing with something far beyond our understanding, Severus. But knowledge is our greatest weapon. We must uncover the truth about Dante Malfoy—before it’s too late.”
Snape nodded again, and walked away feeling more troubled than ever.
