Dante stood in the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, his silver hair and piercing silver eyes drawing immediate attention. The moment he approached the first wizard he encountered, the man froze, his face pale and his body trembling with fear. Dante didn't waste time. "Where can I find the home of Xenophilius Lovegood, the editor of The Quibbler?" he asked, his voice calm but commanding.
The wizard stammered, his words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "O-Ottery St Catchpole! Near Devon! The house looks like a rock, you can't miss it!"
Dante nodded. Before the man could say more, Dante raised his wand. "Obliviate," he said, erasing the encounter from the man's memory. Then, with a sharp crack, he disapparated.
Dante reappeared in front of a peculiar, rock-like house near the village of Ottery St Catchpole. The garden was overgrown, the plants untended for what looked like months. The front door was slightly ajar, creaking in the wind. Dante stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the silent house.
"Is anyone here?" he called.
From deeper within the house, a broken voice replied, "Leave me alone." The despair in the tone was clear. Dante followed the sound, his silver eyes scanning the dimly lit rooms. He found Xenophilius Lovegood sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, clutching a photograph of Luna in his hands.
Dante sighed softly. "You must be her father," he said. "I'm Dante Malfoy."
Xenophilius looked up, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His beard was unkempt, his hair a tangled mess. For a moment, he simply stared at Dante, his expression blank. Then, like a dam breaking, his face twisted with rage. He lunged at Dante, knocking him to the ground and punching him repeatedly.
"It's your fault!" Xenophilius screamed, his voice raw with grief and anger. "It's all your fault!"
Dante didn't resist. He lay there, letting the man vent his pain. Xenophilius's fists struck his face repeatedly, but Dante's transformed body felt no pain from such feeble blows. Eventually, Xenophilius collapsed, exhausted and sobbing.
Dante sat up slowly, his expression calm but his eyes dark "What happened to Luna after I left?" he asked, his voice calm.
Xenophilius cried harder, his body shaking. "She was killed because of you," he choked out. "Her murderer wasn't punished, because of you."
Dante's jaw tightened, but his voice remained calm. "I want to know everything that happened."
Xenophilius tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he nodded weakly. Dante leaned closer. "If you don't mind, I want to look into your memories. I want to see everything from your eyes and hear it from your ears."
Xenophilius nodded again, his tears falling silently. Dante raised his wand and cast Legilimency at full power, delving into the man's mind. He saw the surface thoughts and the memories tied to them. He saw Luna returning home, broken and crying, her dreams shattered. He saw her telling her father about her hopes, her dreams of finding magical creatures, and her unwavering belief that Dante was her friend.
Dante's expression darkened as he continued to sift through the memories. He saw the three men arriving at the house, their faces twisted with cruelty. He saw Luna's arm being severed, her screams of pain as they tortured her and her father. He saw her lying pale and lifeless, her blood staining the floor. All because she had called him a friend. Her murderers were not even questioned for what they did.
Dante's hands clenched into fists as he watched Xenophilius's memories of the aftermath—the Malfoys' imprisonment, the Ministry's propaganda, the world's fear and hatred of him. He had seen enough. He withdrew from Xenophilius's mind, his silver eyes burning with a cold, unrelenting fury.
Dante had lived for thousands of years. He rarely made mistakes, and even more rarely did he regret his actions. When he had revealed himself to the world, he had been arrogant, indifferent to the consequences. He had believed that those who came after him would learn their lesson. The prophecy had been an unexpected twist, but it hadn't mattered much to him. His family was protected by his enchantments, and as for the rest, there was no one else to go after.
But Luna was the unexpected target. She had been kind, thoughtful, and unwaveringly loyal. She had protected others at Hogwarts from him, and not once he thought she would pay the price for calling him friend. She hadn't deserved any of this. For the first time in centuries, Dante felt guilt. He felt pain for the innocent child, felt sorry for the child who had called him a friend, he felt pity for the bright passion buried so young.
Luna had been right about one thing, he wouldn't destroy the world or harm people without reason. But she had been wrong about another, he was not a nice person. No human in the world held a grudge as deeply as he did. No human sought to repay a grudge a thousandfold as much as he did.
Xenophilius looked at Dante, his eyes red and filled with despair. "You're supposed to destroy the world," he whispered. "Please do. Avenge her."
Dante nodded weakly, his voice quiet but firm. "I want you to publish another edition of The Quibbler under my name."
Xenophilius stared at him, confusion and hope flickering in his eyes. Dante's expression was unreadable, but his silver eyes burned with a promise, a promise of retribution.
___________
The wizarding world awoke to an unexpected sight the next morning. A new edition of The Quibbler had been published after a year of silence. The cover was stark and striking, featuring an image of Dante Malfoy, his silver hair and piercing eyes staring out at the reader. The title read: "Message From The Ancient Evil"
The edition flew off the shelves within hours, its contents spreading like wildfire across England and beyond. Witches and wizards gathered in homes, shops, and streets, their faces pale as they read the article. The words within were unlike anything they had ever seen—a direct message from the ancient evil they had feared for so long.
The article began:
"I was born more than ten thousand years ago, in an era when humans—magical or not—were nearly wiped out by the elves. We had no spells or wands back then. We spent decades of our lives training and honing raw magic to fight a war against them, followed by more decades to finish it. Thanks to that war, you live today, and they serve you as house-elves.
By the end of the war, I was old, more than a hundred years in today's terms, and I was not satisfied with my life. The world was vast, and I had so much to see and learn. So, I created a plan to overcome death, to become the Master of Death. I created a magic that allows me to split my soul and reincarnate over different periods with the sole purpose of exploring the world and learning its mysteries. This is my eighth life, the one you all know of.
In my seventh life, I was Ekrizdis. I worked tirelessly to create dementors. Their true purpose was to suck emotions and souls to be used in healing soul-related curses and mental issues like Obscurials. Yet, you used them for imprisoning people and executions.
In my sixth life, I was Armand Malfoy. I established Hogwarts to protect children from non-magical people and to help them learn. It was meant to be a place to archive knowledge and develop the world. Yet, you withheld knowledge and twisted my students' legacies.
In my fifth life, I was Sun Simiao. I improved potions to heal, but you used what I left to create poisons. The Peverell brothers, to whom I gave my Horcruxes to help them, turned me into the figure of death in a fairy tale.
In my fourth life, I was Tertius the Heartless. I helped in the birth of centaurs and gave wizards magical abilities. Yet, centaurs are looked down upon, and my work is viewed as vile and evil.
In my third life, I was Herpo. I developed spells to defend against magical beings and created creatures to help wizards. My spells became dark arts, and the magical beings became dark creatures. You began to call Herpo The Foul, the first evil and dark wizard.
In my second life, I was Odin. I developed runes and many charms. I lost what I cared about most to push this world forward, and in the end, most of my efforts were lost to time before my 3rd birth and I became a myth.
Throughout the eras, my legacies were tarnished, my name insulted, and yet I never cared and kept going regardless. This era is by far the most disappointing one. All of you are a waste to be alive and do not deserve the gift of magic, you are no different from the elves back then. You snuffed the life of an innocent child, Luna Lovegood, in my name and treated her as a sinner.
Luna was right. I was not going to destroy the world, my goal has nothing to do with that. But I have changed my mind. I will deal with you all for all the disappointments you have given me. You feared the prophecy? I will fulfill it. I will give you one week to prepare for my arrival. This time, you will witness what the most evil wizard can really do.
The first name I was given was Hogwarts, it means the seeker of the future. But I see no future for you anymore, only doom."
The final page of the edition featured an image of an unknown creature—a strange, dog-sized being with light purple skin, a golden horn, and a tail ending in a golden stinger. Beneath the image, it read: "The Crumple-Horned Snorkack is real. It was not Luna's fantasy. It lived in the forests of Russia, you blind waste."
___________
The wizarding world was thrown into chaos. The article was a declaration of doom, a promise of retribution from a being who had shaped their history and now sought to end it. The image of the crumple-horned snorkack, a creature Luna Lovegood had believed in so fervently, was a final, bitter reminder of the innocence that had been lost.
For Luna, for the countless disappointments of this era, and for the world that had failed to live up to his expectations for so long, Dante would not let them go unpunished.