When Dana returned to the Gryffindor Common Room with his food, he was met with cheers. The younger Gryffindors stood and clapped for him, beaming. The twins were the most excited—rushing over to hug him tightly, shaking him so hard he nearly spilled his mushroom soup.
"Dana, you're amazing!"
"You're a professional player now!"
Dana tried to fix his hair, which the twins had just messed up. "Just a substitute," he said, modestly.
"Substitute?" Fred shouted. "Even substitutes are professionals!"
George grabbed the food bag. "Why are you eating leftovers? We're having a feast tonight! Fred and I'll get fresh food from the kitchen."
Dana shook his head. "No need. I still need to read. Let's not celebrate."
He nodded to the crowd and headed up the stairs.
Fred groaned. "Dana doesn't want to celebrate."
George grinned. "That's fine—we'll celebrate anyway."
Fred: "Let's go to the kitchen!"
George: "Lee, bring out the Firewhisky! It's party time!"
Dana smiled to himself. After half a year of earning house points without much thanks, it took just one Quidditch offer from the Chudley Cannons to earn the admiration of his peers. Clearly, Quidditch meant everything to young wizards.
Still, he noticed Ron looking blank, and Harry smiling faintly—perhaps forced. Was Harry worried Dana might take his place as Seeker? Was this jealousy? Or perhaps just self-doubt?
Dana sighed. Harry still had a long way to go if he was to become a true savior.
Reaching his dormitory, Dana sat to eat. The fried fish with sweet-and-sour sauce was quite good, paired with soft bread. He didn't like bread in general, but after eating moldy scraps for four years, this was more than tolerable. When he was finished, he wrapped the food waste and left it in the corner—House-elves would clean up overnight.
Sitting at his desk, he opened his German textbook. Rain tapped against the windowpane like glowing snails lit by lamplight. Suddenly, the two-way mirror in his cloak grew warm—it was from Ewoyn.
Dana immediately transformed into Dark Dentis and activated the mirror.
"BOSS! It's me! All 120 recruits have gathered as instructed!"
"Grimmauld Place 12?" Dana asked.
"Yes!"
"Good. I'll be there shortly."
Jack Murray was a Muggle-born wizard—what pure-bloods called a Schlammblut. He glanced around nervously. The house was clearly once a noble's mansion. Around him, about 120 wizards—each just as ragged as he was—filled the ground-floor hall. Most looked like vagrants.
The staircase wall was bare—Jack, who had once worked as a decorator, could tell a large portrait had hung there. At the kitchen door, an ancient house-elf muttered curses under his breath—Kreacher, likely.
Tension rose. Some suspected Ewoyn had lured them here with false promises. After all, the Fire Serpent Party was a defunct criminal group from a century ago. Who'd offer 50 Galleons a month to the likes of them without strings attached?
Curses and complaints filled the air—starving people don't care much for manners.
Ewoyn descended the stairs. "Quiet! Quiet! Our BOSS is arriving!"
The crowd hushed—for a few seconds. Then, chaos resumed.
"Look—what's that?!"
A voice shouted, pointing behind Ewoyn. A shimmering portal formed from twisting vines. Through it stepped a tall, commanding figure wearing a regal purple robe. Dana had, in fact, broken his promise not to wear it—it was too majestic to resist, even if it might've been Merlin's shroud.
With one sharp glance, he silenced the room.
"I am Dark Dentis, a German wizard born in China."
He raised his wand and whispered a spell.
The cramped hall suddenly expanded—far larger than before.
"Undetectable Extension Charm!" someone gasped.
Dana waved again, conjuring a chair behind each person. While basic Transfiguration, performing it 120 times with such precision required astonishing magical control.
"Please, everyone, take a seat."
When they did, Dana began:
"I sincerely want to hire each of you. I have many businesses—you will all have work. I promise 50 Galleons per month."
Wary faces stared back at him. Dana raised his wand, producing a golden storm of Galleons from thin air. They floated and spilled like a golden river.
"See? You'll soon live decent lives—if you work hard."
Gasps echoed through the room. Real money. Real opportunity.
"I know," Dana continued, "that you're concerned—Ewoyn told you this would involve joining the Fire Serpent Party."
He gestured toward Ewoyn, who stood respectfully at the side.
"Yes, the Fire Serpent Party once had a terrible name. But that group was destroyed. What we build now will be entirely different."
Dana paced slowly, his voice calm yet piercing.
"You've all suffered. Tell me—why has your life been so wretched?"
Someone shouted, "Because we're Muggle-born!"
Another: "Because we're not native to Britain!"
"Because I have a Muggle father!"
"Because I've been in prison!"
Dana raised his hand for silence.
"So you've been treated unfairly for your pasts—for your birth. Is that right?"
"Yes!" they shouted in unison.
"Is that your fault?"
"No!!"
"Exactly! You only want to survive, feed your families. Is that wrong?"
"No!"
"But this Wizarding World doesn't allow that. In my eyes, the fault lies with them—not you."
Silence followed. No one had expected this noble-looking wizard to speak such dangerous truth.
"You think I'm a criminal? A rebel?" Dana asked, smiling. "But who else is giving you a future? The Wizarding World is dominated by pure-bloods. They own 95% of its wealth. They don't help you—and they don't allow you to work in the Muggle world, either. So what choice do you have? Wait to die? Turn to crime and get sent to Azkaban?"
The wizards stared, spellbound. Dana's words rang true.
"I could've picked any name for our group. So why use 'Fire Serpent'?"
No one answered.
"The Fire Serpent is born of fire and lives only an hour—but in that time, it lays eggs that can burn down a house. It is weak, yet fearsome. I chose that name because everything we do is for our children!"
He stepped forward. "Do you want your descendants to live like rats in sewers?"
Silence. Then Dana roared:
"Are you willing?!"
"I'm not willing!" Jack Murray shouted, fists raised.
"I'm not willing!" others followed.
Dana nodded. "Good! Then let's unite. Burn down this unjust world. And build a new one—fair, free, and just."
"Unity! Unity!" Jack shouted. The chant spread like wildfire.
Dana raised his wand. "Now—do you wish to join the Fire Serpent Party?"
"YES!"
"Long live the Fire Serpent Party!"
Dana walked to the hall's center. The floor shifted, making space. He cast:
"Protego Diabolica!"
Blue flames circled the area.
"This fire will test loyalty. Step through it only if you truly wish to join. If you deceive me—if you mean to inform the Ministry—the flames will reduce you to ash. If you prefer not to join, that's fine. You'll still get paid work. But don't lie. Your life is not a joke."
Dana stood in the circle, wand raised.
Jack Murray stepped forward. "Long live the Fire Serpent Party!" He passed unharmed.
"Your name, comrade?" Dana asked.
"Jack Murray!"
Dana embraced him. Jack trembled with pride.
Ewoyn rushed to be second. He bowed deeply to Dana, then stood beside him.
One by one, the wizards crossed the flames. Of 120, only two stayed behind.
"Sir," one said nervously, "we just want work. Not revolution."
Dana nodded. "That's okay. Everyone has their own path."
To Ewoyn, he said, "Arrange for them to stay upstairs. Send them to the dragon farm tomorrow."
"Yes, BOSS!"
"Do either of you have family?" Dana asked.
"No, sir. We're alone."
"Very well. Please don't speak of what happened here."
"We won't! We swear!"
Dana smiled. "Go with Ewoyn."
The others watched, touched by Dana's mercy.
"If it were Grindelwald or You-Know-Who," someone whispered, "those two would be dead already."
But the next morning, the two were gone—vanished without a trace. Only Kreacher, the house-elf, found some ashes in their room.
They hadn't passed through the flames—but the magic had read their hearts. They were not safe to leave alive. Memory Charms can be broken. Treason was a deadly risk.
Revolution is a dangerous game—not for the faint of heart.
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