"Harry, have you seen Dana?"
On the Hogwarts Express, Hermione closed her book and asked hesitantly.
Harry shook his head.
"I haven't seen him. Maybe he's with Fred and George?"
Ron denied it immediately.
"No, I just passed Fred and George's compartment. They were sitting with Lee and Angelina."
Harry turned to Hermione.
"Why are you suddenly asking about Dana?"
Hermione shook her head but said nothing.
—In fact, on that day, Lord Voldemort, who had possessed Dunat Avery, had foolishly and proudly revealed everything to Harry.
From Quirrell to Avery, from the Basilisk to Dana—perhaps he enjoyed flaunting his so-called brilliance before what he assumed would be his victory. After all, he believed he had deceived the entire Hogwarts and was on the verge of triumph.
But Voldemort, without a brain, was truly not that terrifying—though most couldn't defeat him, he was fundamentally flawed.
When Harry learned that Dana had been targeted only because of his exceptional strength and isolation among wizards, both he and Hermione were struck with guilt.
They realized they, too, had distanced themselves from Dana. Harry, who had once considered himself Dana's friend, had unconsciously neglected him out of an inferiority complex. Hermione, despite briefly forming an alliance with Dana during their mutual isolation, had pulled away once she had two "respectable" friends—Harry and Ron.
It should be noted that Dana had contributed significantly to Gryffindor this year. He was tied for first with Hermione in the final exams (and as we know, a perfect score is not always equal to another perfect score). Dana was Gryffindor's most outstanding wizard—he deserved better treatment.
The more they thought about it, the worse Harry and Hermione felt. While they had also wronged a certain House Dean, the emotional impact was nothing compared to what Dana had endured.
They both wondered how Dana had survived the school year. He had only begun to feel warmth from his classmates when he first joined the Chudley Cannons.
Hermione sighed.
"I just want to apologize to Dana in person. At the start of this school year, it was Dana who helped me through the tough times when I was isolated…"
Harry didn't reply, but he silently vowed not to neglect Dana again next year.
Ron, clueless as usual, interjected:
"What's there to apologize for? Okay, we wronged him, but it's not like we said anything bad to his face or spread rumors.
And if you ask me—he'll show his true colors sooner or later! He's from Azkaban, isn't he? Everyone locked up there is a criminal!"
Harry snapped,
"Ron, Dana's not a bad person!"
Hermione nodded.
"Yes, he's a very kind person."
Ron shrugged and dropped the subject.
While the trio discussed Dana, he had already returned to the Castle on the Hebridean Islands, using the secret passage through the Hogwarts Express bathroom.
He needed to prepare for the upcoming "meeting."
He would soon enter the British Wizarding World under the name of a respected ancient noble. From there, his plan would unfold:Approach Cornelius Fudge and gather intelligence.Act as a matchmaker to assist Donna Avery.Weave a beautiful illusion for the pure-blood families—slowly luring them into his trap.Dana headed to the first-floor dining hall of the Castle but was stopped by Jack Murray.
"Boss, urgent report," said Jack.
"Go ahead."
"The house-elf at Grimmauld Place 12 is causing trouble. He's yelling at us to get out or he'll report us to the Ministry of Magic. We've restrained him, but we need your orders."
Dana slapped his forehead. He had long planned to settle the matter with Kreacher but had been too preoccupied playing two roles to deal with it.
"I'll handle it right away. You've all done well. Jack, notify the kitchen—we'll be having a feast tonight. You've worked hard for half a year. Open a few good bottles of wine and celebrate."
"Boss, you're too kind!"
Dana waved Jack away and casually summoned the Spandim Gate.
Kreacher was shackled to the wall, his hands cuffed with mentores metal—a rare alloy known to block magic, making it nearly impossible for even a house-elf to Apparate.
He continued to scream:
"Filthy Mudbloods! Commoners! Trespassers! How dare you defile the noble Black family's ancestral home? You should all be minced and fed to Hippogriffs!"
Dana approached quietly.
"Shut up, Kreacher. When Malfoy sold me this mansion, your ownership came with it. You are now my house-elf."
"No!! I am no traitor!" Kreacher cried, his eyes wild.
"Kreacher only wishes to preserve the dignity of this house!"
He sobbed uncontrollably, snot and tears dripping down his greasy pillowcase.
"Sir, I know your bloodline is noble, so I don't object to your presence here. You can bring greater honor to this house than Malfoy ever could. That outsider—just because he married Miss Narcissa—had no right to sell what belonged to the Black family!"
"But sir… you're letting those low-blooded wretches roam freely here. Kreacher can't bear to see it! You cannot trample on the Black family's eternal dignity, even if no male heirs remain! The Black name still stands!"
Dana found himself silently sympathizing with Sirius Black—ignored even by his own family's elf.
"Kreacher, this is just a house. Yes, it represents history, but now it belongs to me. I have every right to use it. You cannot betray me or sabotage my efforts because of sentiment.
Let me remind you again—you are my house-elf now."
Kreacher shook his head violently.
"No, sir, it's not like that. The Black family gave me the most honorable death a house-elf could hope for…
I—I just can't let go of the Black family."
Dana smiled slightly. The most honorable death?
Did he mean having his head cut off and hung on the wall like cured meat?
"Kreacher, I can give you an even greater honor. Not only will your head be displayed here, but I will cure your skin and inscribe the Dantes family tree upon it!"
Poor Kreacher… He sensed the ancient bloodline in Dana but didn't know the Dantes family never existed.
Kreacher's eyes lit up. He leaned forward, his bound arms forcing him into an exaggerated pose, highlighting his long nose and chin. At least this stopped his snot from soiling the pillowcase further.
"Sir… is that true?"
His cloudy eyes gleamed with hope.
"Of course, Kreacher. I can offer you the honor you desire. I can also fulfill the task your former young master gave you—the one you failed to complete."
Kreacher's eyes widened in fear.
"Sir! How did you know?"
Dana smiled again.
"I possess an ancient and powerful bloodline. Very few things can be hidden from me."
"Oh, sir…" Kreacher's eyes turned red.
"My poor young master Regulus…"
He whispered, disbelief trembling in his voice:
"Sir… can you really…?"
"I can destroy that locket. But in return, you must obey me—completely. No more tantrums. No more rebellion. Can you promise me that?"
Kreacher lowered his head.
"Yes, sir… No, Master. You are Kreacher's master now… As long as you can fulfill young master Regulus's last wish…"
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