Milk_Is_My_Drug
patreon
Chapter 57: The Daily Prophet's Lies
🕑 Added 2025-04-03 22:54:08 +0000 UTCDante stood in Dumbledore’s office facing the headmaster, Snape, McGonagall, and Moody. The room was tense. McGonagall was the first to break the silence, her tone disapproving as she fixed Dante with a stern look.
"Why did you speak like that earlier?" she asked, her voice clear with frustration. "It was out of place and disrespectful. You belittled the other champions and undermined the integrity of the tournament."
Dante met her gaze evenly, his tone matter-of-fact. "Potter was dragged into this competition against his will. It’s likely related to the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup. I want Harry to continue so we can see where this is going. If there’s a plot, it’s better to let it unfold than to stop it prematurely."
Snape, standing to the side, nodded in agreement. "Dante’s actions were excessive but he might be right. These events could be connected. It’s better to let the situation develop and gather information rather than act rashly."
McGonagall’s face paled, her shock evident. "You want to use Potter as bait? He’s a boy, not a piece of meat to be sacrificed!"
Dumbledore, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "I agree with them. Besides, the rules are clear, Minerva. Harry must participate. He’s bound by a magical contract now. There’s no way around it."
McGonagall shook her head, her frustration mounting. "There must be something we can do to prevent him from competing. Dante," she turned to him, her tone almost pleading, "is there a way to stop Harry from competing?"
Dante nodded. "Yes, there are loopholes in the contract. But I won’t stop it. Who knows? Maybe this is necessary for the return of the murdering buffoon."
The room fell silent, the weight of Dante’s words sinking in. McGonagall gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Moody’s magical eye swiveled sharply toward Dante, his expression dark and unreadable. Even Dumbledore’s usual twinkle seemed to dim as he processed Dante’s statement.
McGonagall recovered first, her voice trembling. "What do you mean? Are you talking about the Dark Lord?"
Dante nodded, his expression calm. "That fool, Voldemort, didn’t die. He’s out there, probably living like some wild animal, and he’ll eventually find a way to come back. If this helps him speed up the process, then I’ll gladly turn a blind eye to it."
Dumbledore’s frown deepened. He had hoped to keep the knowledge of Voldemort’s survival a secret, at least until they had more evidence and a plan in place. Dante’s openness was dangerous—it could cause panic and force Voldemort to act unpredictably if he felt threatened.
"Dante," Dumbledore said carefully, "the possibility of Voldemort’s return must remain a secret, at least until we have concrete evidence. How many people have you told about this?"
Dante shrugged. "Only my family knows. But you don’t need to worry about them spreading it—they were part of the buffoon’s merry band, after all."
McGonagall looked pale, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you understand what you’re talking about? Do you know how dangerous and evil the Dark Lord is?"
Dante’s expression didn’t change. "I have a rough idea. And I’m actually looking forward to meeting him. I have some not-so-nice words I want to share with him. Voldemort is going to have a bad time."
The room fell silent again, the weight of Dante’s words hanging in the air. McGonagall looked horrified, Snape’s expression was dark, and Moody’s magical eye was fixed on Dante with an intensity that could have burned a hole through him.
Dante, seemingly unfazed, turned to leave. "If there’s nothing else," he said, his tone dismissive.
Dumbledore sighed, his voice firm as he called after him. "No words of this leave this room. Understood?"
Dante didn’t respond, already halfway out the door. Once he was gone, Dumbledore turned to Moody. "Alastor, keep an eye on Harry. We need to ensure his safety."
Moody nodded, his gruff voice filled with determination. "I’ll make sure he’s protected."
Snape, his arms crossed, spoke up. "What about Dante? Shouldn’t we be keeping an eye on him as well?"
Dumbledore’s expression was thoughtful. "Dante has his own plans, but I believe he will never align with Voldemort."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled faintly, though his tone was serious. "Because he has his pride. He truly believes he’s superior to everyone else—including Voldemort."
__________
Dante sat in the library, his silver eyes scanning the pages of an ancient tome. The quiet hum of the library was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps. Argus Filch approached, his voice uncharacteristically respectful as he called out, "Mr. Malfoy, the professors are looking for you. They want you in the trophy room—something related to the Triwizard Tournament."
Dante closed the book without a word and stood, following Filch out of the library. When he arrived at the trophy room, he was met with the other three champions—Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, and Harry Potter—along with a woman and a cameraman. The woman, a reporter with a sharp smile and an air of self-importance, exclaimed, "Ah, he’s finally here! We need you to stand with the other champions for a photo."
Dante didn’t respond. He silently moved to stand next to the other champions. Fleur sat gracefully in a chair, while Viktor, Harry, and Dante stood behind her. The cameraman snapped the photo, the flash momentarily lighting up the room.
The woman, Rita Skeeter, stepped forward, her smile widening as she introduced herself. "I’m Rita Skeeter, reporter for The Daily Prophet. I can’t wait to have interviews with all of you," she said, her eyes darting from one champion to the next. Her gaze lingered on Dante, her tone dripping with faux admiration. "Especially you, Dante Malfoy. I’ve been trying to get an interview with you for so long."
Dante’s expression didn’t change. "I’m not interested," he said flatly. "You should be content with the other three." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the room.
Rita called after him, her voice tinged with frustration, but Dante ignored her. Her smile faltered for a moment before she composed herself, turning her attention to Harry Potter. "Well, then," she said, her tone sweet but with an edge of malice, "we’ll start with the youngest champion."
The next day, the school buzzed with the latest edition of The Daily Prophet. The front page was ‘The Triwizard Champions’. The article talked about each champion, Harry was painted as a troubled, attention-seeking boy who had somehow tricked the Goblet of Fire into selecting him. It was the same kind of exaggerated nonsense Rita Skeeter was known for.
But it was the portion about Dante that truly caught everyone’s attention. The article painted him as an evil, dark wizard in the making, questioning how the Malfoys had raised him. It was filled with thinly veiled insults and accusations, all disguised as "questions." The article wondered aloud if Dante’s prodigious talent was the result of dark magic and speculated about his involvement in "mysterious and dangerous" activities orchestrated by the Malfoy head, Lucius.
Draco Malfoy, who had been laughing at the article’s portrayal of Harry, turned pale with anger as he read the section about his brother. His fists clenched, and his voice was low and dangerous as he muttered, "How dare they?"
Other Slytherins gathered around, their expressions equally furious. Insulting their house champion—and by extension, the Malfoy family—was unforgivable. The common room was filled with angry murmurs as students discussed how to respond.
Dante, however, remained calm. He didn’t comment on the article, nor did he show any outward signs of anger. But his mind was already made up. Rita Skeeter had crossed a line, and Dante wasn’t one to let such an insult go unanswered. He would teach her a lesson—one she wouldn’t soon forget.
As the day went on, the school buzzed with speculation and outrage. The Slytherins were united in their anger, while students from other houses whispered about the article, some believing the lies and others dismissing them as sensationalism. Dante, however, went about his day as if nothing had happened.
But beneath his calm exterior, he was annoyed, he participated in this game to gain reputation for the Malfoy family not to smear their name. Rita Skeeter had made a grave mistake, and he was not one to let such a slight go unpunished. The Daily Prophet might have painted him as a dark wizard, but they had no idea what he was truly capable of.
