Dante opened his eyes, his vision blurred as he sat up, confusion etched across his face. He was in the hall where the grave of his family resided. The ghost of his wife, Frigg, floated nearby, her translucent form shimmering faintly in the dim light. She noticed him stirring and turned her gaze toward him, her expression cold and detached. Her eyes lingered on his, which had briefly turned white—a sign that he had seen the future—before returning to their usual silver hue.
"It seems you've succeeded in the end," Frigg said, her voice devoid of warmth. "A pity."
Dante blinked, his mind still reeling from the vision he had just experienced. He looked around the hall, his laughter breaking the silence. It was a bitter, sorrowful sound, echoing off the walls. Frigg watched him, her expression unchanging, as if his pain meant nothing to her.
"No," Dante said, his laughter fading into a sigh. "I failed. I always fail."
Frigg tilted her head slightly, her ghostly form flickering. "What did you see?" she asked, her tone as cold as ever.
Dante's silver eyes met hers, empty and haunted. "I became the Master of Death," he said, his voice hollow. "And with that power, I caused life and death to merge. All souls, all life—gone. Only I remained at the end. I fulfilled the prophecy by destroying the world and ending its future. I alone am immortal, standing in a desolate void."
Frigg blinked, her icy demeanor faltering for a moment. Then, to Dante's surprise, she laughed. It was a sound he hadn't heard in centuries, not since her death. Her laughter was sharp and mocking, cutting through the heavy silence of the hall. Dante stared at her, his expression unreadable.
When her laughter subsided, Frigg fixed him with a piercing gaze. "Was it worth it in the end?" she asked. "To abandon us for your quest, only to fail?"
Dante lowered his head, his shoulders slumping under the weight of her words. "I can create more Horcruxes," he said quietly. "I can keep reincarnating. At first, my goal was to watch the world and explore it to the very end. But when you and Baldr died, I changed. My goal became to master death and bring you back."
Frigg said nothing, her ghostly form flickering as she processed his words. This was the first time she had heard him speak so openly about his motivations. But Dante wasn't finished.
"I am a lier, I lied to you all this time," he continued, his voice trembling. "I didn't kill Loki gruesomely for you. When I heard of your and Baldr's deaths, I lost control of my magic in my grief. I killed everyone in the tribe, old and young. Nothing survived. It was unintentional, but it was my fault."
Frigg's expression shifted, surprise flickering across her ghostly features. Dante pressed on, his words spilling out like a flood he could no longer contain.
"I left Baldr behind because I didn't want him to see what I was going to do, I didn't want him to know what monster his father was. I didn't leave to check on my progress. I attacked an innocent tribe, experimenting on them without mercy or care. I only wanted results and fast. My actions killed tens of people in the span of a few days. The young and old suffered miserably because I wanted to find a way to save you. And I succeeded. But when I returned to the tribe, I was too late. Both of you were gone."
Tears streamed down Dante's face as he spoke, his voice breaking. "With every life, I grew more disappointed and disgusted by this world. But I kept going because I believed that when I succeeded, I could fix my mistake… fix every mistake I made on the way. Yet every time I did something out of goodwill, it failed and turned to evil. The world twisted my legacies over and over again. In the end, when I finally succeeded, there was nothing left. I saw it… the end, the desolation my actions caused. You are right, Frigg. I am the worst thing that this world has ever seen."
Frigg's ghostly form wavered, her cold detachment cracking under the weight of Dante's confession. For the first time in centuries, she looked at him not with disdain, but with something akin to pity. The hall fell silent, the air heavy with the weight of eternity and the sorrow of a man who had lived too long and lost too much.
The hall was silent, the air thick with the weight of centuries of pain and regret. Dante sat on the cold stone floor, his silver eyes glistening with tears. Frigg's ghostly form hovered before him, her expression no longer cold but filled with a sorrowful curiosity. She had asked the question.
"Why did you lie to me?" Frigg asked, her voice softer now, though still tinged with sadness. "Why not tell me the truth?"
Dante looked up at her, his face full of anguish. "What should I have told you?" he said, his voice breaking. "That I tortured and killed innocent people to help you? That I killed everyone you knew by mistake? That I let our son out of my sight because of you? I was prepared to protect him with my life, no matter what. But you… you went ahead and burned yours. I couldn't accept that, so I had to fix it. I know you, I didn't want you to feel any guilt, because it was my decision, my fault and I deserved it. I've lived long enough to carry all the hate and guilt this world has to offer. I didn't want you to feel any of it."
Frigg's ghostly form flickered, her expression shifting from sorrow to something deeper… understanding, perhaps, or regret. Dante continued, his words spilling out in a torrent of pain.
"When I began to understand your state and the nature of ghosts, I became more certain that I had to keep the lie. I thought that maybe, if I failed one day, you could find peace. But now? Everything was pointless. I failed. I even destroyed you because I believed I will be able to bring you back this way. I harmed and killed innocents without care because I thought I could fix everything. But I couldn't… And the closer I got the more I became everything I hated and despised. I'm sorry, Frigg. I will never be able to fix my mistakes. I only made more, and everything I did ended in failure."
Frigg was silent for a long moment, her ghostly form shimmering faintly in the dim light of the hall. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, filled with a sorrow that mirrored Dante's own.
"I hated you," she said, her words trembling with emotion. "I hated you because I thought you abandoned us for a mad dream. My obsession was my desire to see you fail because of that. But now I know… you had us first, always. If you had just told me the truth earlier…"
Her voice trailed off, and for the first time in thousands of years, Frigg's ghostly form began to glimmer, her edges fading into the air. Dante watched in stunned silence as her body dissolved into a soft, golden light. Her sorrowful expression was the last thing he saw before she disappeared completely, her spirit finally finding the peace it had been denied for so long.
Dante sat alone in the hall, his mind reeling. For thousands of years, Frigg had suffered because of his lies, his silence. All it would have taken was a single moment of honesty, a single admission of his mistakes, to spare her that pain. And now, it was too late. She was gone, truly gone, and he was left with nothing but the crushing weight of his failures.
He buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs. The dam of emotions he had held back for centuries finally broke, and he cried, hard, unrestrained, and utterly alone. His mind echoed with a single, relentless thought: I am the worst.
___________
Dante apparated back into the Malfoy Manor with a soft crack, his arrival noticed by Narcissa Malfo, who rushed to the entrance hall. Her heart sank when she saw her son. He looked… broken.
"Dante!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and concern. "Where have you been? We've been worried sick!" Her eyes scanned him, taking in his disheveled appearance. "What happened to you?"
Dante's once-blonde hair was now streaked with silver. His face was pale and gaunt, deep black circles under his eyes betraying sleepless nights and endless torment. His Hogwarts robes, once pristine, were now tattered and worn, hanging loosely on his frame. But it was his expression that struck Narcissa the most—his eyes were hollow, his face etched with a despair so profound it seemed as though he had lost the will to live.
Dante didn't answer her. He walked past her, his movements slow and mechanical, as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut. "Leave me alone," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Narcissa reached out to him, her voice trembling. "Dante, please, talk to me. What's wrong?" But he didn't respond. He continued down the hall, his footsteps echoing in the silence, until he disappeared into his room.
Narcissa stood frozen for a moment, her heart pounding. Something was terribly wrong. She turned and hurried to the fireplace, her hands shaking as she tossed a handful of Floo powder into the flames. "Lucius!" she called, her voice frantic. "Come home immediately. It's Dante, he's back, but something's wrong!"
Within minutes, Lucius Malfoy arrived, his usual composed demeanor replaced by concern. "What's happened?" he asked.
"I don't know," Narcissa replied, her hands clutching his arm. "He just appeared, looking like… like he's been through hell. He won't talk to me. He just told me to leave him alone."
Lucius's jaw tightened. "Where is he?"
"In his room," Narcissa said, leading the way.
They found Dante sitting on the edge of his bed, staring into the air with empty eyes. His hands rested limply on his knees, and he seemed unaware of their presence. Lucius stepped forward, his voice firm but gentle. "Dante, what's wrong? Talk to us."
Dante didn't look at him. "I want to be alone," he said, his voice flat and lifeless.
Lucius exchanged a worried glance with Narcissa before trying again. "Dante, whatever it is, we can help you."
Before Lucius could say more, there was a sudden, inexplicable shift in the air. In an instant, both Lucius and Narcissa were no longer in the room. They found themselves standing in the dining hall, the door to Dante's room firmly closed.
Narcissa gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "What just happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Lucius's expression was grim. "It must have been Dante's doing," he said, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty. "But I have no idea how he did it."
Narcissa's eyes filled with tears. "Lucius, what's happening to him? He's never been like this before."
Lucius placed a hand on her shoulder "I don't know," he admitted.