The news of Dante's return spread quickly, reaching Severus Snape within a few days. Concerned, Snape promptly informed Albus Dumbledore, who decided to visit the Malfoy Manor himself. The headmaster arrived at the manor accompanied by Snape. Lucius Malfoy greeted them as they came from the Floo network, his expression a mix of irritation and unease.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Lucius said, his tone polite but cold. "To what do we owe this unexpected visit?"
Dumbledore, ever calm and composed, offered a small smile. "As the headmaster of Hogwarts and the head of Slytherin House, it is only right that we check on our missing student," he explained, his tone firm but gentle. "We're here to ensure Dante is well."
Lucius crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "He's not in a state to receive visitors. Since his return a few days ago, he's been… unresponsive. He just sits and stares into the air. He won't speak to anyone."
Dumbledore's blue eyes softened with concern. "If something is wrong, I might be able to help him. I've dealt with many troubled students in my time."
Narcissa, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with worry. "Please, let them see him," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm worried about him. If they can help, we should let them try."
Lucius hesitated, then with a sigh. "Very well," he said, stepping aside. "But don't expect much. He hasn't spoken a word to us."
Lucius led Dumbledore and Snape through the grand halls of the manor to the garden, where Dante sat alone on a stone bench. The garden, once vibrant and meticulously maintained, now seemed to mirror Dante's state—lifeless and desolate. Dante sat with his back to them, his posture slumped, his silver-streaked hair catching the faint light. His empty eyes stared into the distance, unseeing and unfeeling.
Lucius cleared his throat. "Dante," he said, his voice firm "Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape are here. They're concerned about you."
Dante didn't respond. He didn't even acknowledge their presence. Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a glance before stepping closer. Dumbledore's expression was one of deep concern, while Snape's usual stoicism was replaced by a faint frown.
Dumbledore approached Dante slowly, his voice gentle but probing. "It seems you've been through a lot while you were away," he said. "Why not share your burden? It will make you feel lighter to find those who understand."
Dante remained silent, his gaze fixed on some unseen point in the distance. Dumbledore sighed, his tone growing more earnest. "Sharing will make things easier. I've lived a long life, more than a hundred years, and I might be able to understand what you've experienced."
For the first time, Dante reacted. His head turned slowly, his silver eyes locking onto Dumbledore's. There was no emotion in his gaze, only a void that seemed to stretch into eternity. When he spoke, his voice was cold and disdainful.
"You have lived long? A hundred years?" Dante said, his words dripping with bitterness. "Then tell me, what would you do if you lived for thousands of years? If you watched the worst the world has to offer, disappointed endlessly by it? If you tried to change it more than anyone else, believing you could fix everything, only to kill, torture, and commit the vilest acts in the name of the greater good and advancement? What would you do if you slaughtered thousands, only to realize, when you finally succeeded, that you didn't fix anything? That you ended the world instead? All things dead; people, animals, plants, magical or not. Darkness and silence are all that remain in this world, and you are the cause of it, standing there immortal and alone. Then you wake the next moment and realize you have gone back to this moment, that all your work and deeds were pointless and only caused harm and suffering. When you realize that you are truly the worst thing to happen to this world… what would you do?"
The garden fell silent, the weight of Dante's words hanging heavy in the air. Dumbledore's usual calm demeanor faltered, his eyes widening in shock. Snape's expression was unreadable, but his sharp intake of breath betrayed his surprise. Lucius and Narcissa stood frozen, their faces pale with disbelief.
Dante's gaze returned to the distance, his voice hollow. "You don't have an answer, do you? No one does. Because no one has lived as long as I have. No one has seen as much as I have. No one has failed as much as I have."
The garden was silent, the air heavy with tension as Dante's words hung in the air. Dumbledore stared at him, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a deep disturbance. Snape was the first to recover, though his voice betrayed his disbelief.
"It's hard to believe all of that," Snape said, his tone cautious but skeptical.
Dante's silver eyes flicked toward him, cold and emotionless. "You two want me to check on the girl after the fool's diary sucked her life," he said, his voice flat. "Yes, I can. I've healed that before. As for the idiot, Tom—or Voldemort, as you fearfully call him—I helped him resurrect, then tortured and killed him, along with the idiots who followed him."
The group was stunned into silence once more. Snape's eyes widened, and he took a step back. "You tortured and killed the Dark Lord?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dante didn't answer. Instead, Dumbledore's eyes began to glow with a faint silver light, and he spoke in a voice that was not his own. "Yes," Dumbledore said, his tone eerily calm. "He crawled like a worm, tried in futility to fight me, but died in the end."
Snape's face paled, and he took another step back, his hand instinctively reaching for his wand. Seeing Dumbledore controlled so effortlessly was a shock even to him. Lucius and Narcissa stood frozen, their expressions a mix of fear and disbelief.
Dante stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. He extended his hand, and Dumbledore's wand flew toward him, engulfed in a silver light. The light surrounded Dante, and for a moment, he seemed to glow with an otherworldly power. When the light faded, his hair was completely silver, and his presence was even more imposing.
Dumbledore fell to his knees, breathing heavily as if the act of being controlled had drained him. Dante examined the wand in his hand, his expression one of mild amusement. "You believed this stick could give you strength to fight me," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "You fought me before. It didn't end well for you or for anyone who aided you."
With a casual flick of his wrist, Dante broke the wand, the sound of snapping wood echoing in the silence.
Snape, now thoroughly disturbed, pulled out his own wand, his hand trembling slightly. Dante looked at him, unimpressed. "Use your best spell," he said. "No, hit me with the Killing Curse."
Snape hesitated, his confusion evident. "What?"
"You've tried it before," Dante said, his voice cold. "Just do it. Or I'll kill your headmaster."
Dumbledore's face paled as his hand flew to his throat, his breathing becoming labored. Snape, seeing this, hesitated for only a moment before raising his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, the green light of the Killing Curse shooting toward Dante.
The curse struck Dante square in the chest, but he didn't flinch. The green light dissipated harmlessly, leaving him standing unscathed. Dumbledore's breathing returned to normal, his face regaining some color, while Snape stared in shock.
"How?" Snape asked, his voice barely audible.
"I'm too strong now for the curse to hurt me," Dante replied, his tone matter-of-fact. He sat back down, his expression one of utter resignation. "The International Confederation of Wizards joined hands to fight me. Their ministries were reduced to rubble and ruins. All their people, dead. With all the skills I've honed, with all the power I hold… I failed in the worst possible way. I have nothing else to do now."
When Dante finished speaking, the group was suddenly and forcefully disapparated, reappearing outside the manor. The four of them stood in stunned silence, their minds reeling from what they had just witnessed.
Dumbledore, still pale and shaken, looked at Snape, who returned his gaze with equal confusion. Both men, despite their skepticism, couldn't help but begin to believe what Dante had said. The control over Dumbledore, the effortless breaking of his wand, the resistance to the Killing Curse, it all pointed to a power far beyond anything they had ever encountered.