NOVEL NEXT Chapter 12: Stagnant World
After his meeting with the headmaster, Dante's life at Hogwarts continued peacefully. Dumbledore made no further attempts to meet him, and the professors left him to study on his own. Dante participated in class when asked but otherwise kept to himself, his nose buried in books. His stellar performance and relentless reading habits made him famous among the first-years. Many wondered why he wasn't in Ravenclaw, and even the professors began to doubt the Sorting Hat's decision.
In Potions class, Snape continued to use Dante as a tool to humiliate the Gryffindors, asking him hard questions and awarding Slytherin points whenever he answered correctly, much to the frustration of the "lions." Dante, however, didn't care about any of that. He had no interest in marks, house rivalries, or Snape's petty games.
Aside from his studies, Dante took time to reply to the letters he received from his mother and little brother. Narcissa's letters were filled with advice and concern, while Draco's were brimming with curiosity and questions about Hogwarts. Dante responded with polite brevity.
His recent studies had focused on muggles, but the knowledge available in the public sections of the library was limited. Determined to learn more, Dante decided to explore the restricted section. However, instead of seeking permission or breaking in, he headed to the seventh floor, where the Room of Requirements was located. He planned to use the room to retrieve books and scrolls related to muggles in any form.
When he arrived, he was surprised to find an older girl with purple hair standing in front of the room just as the door materialized. The girl looked at him in shock and panic, as if he had caught her doing something she shouldn't.
Dante's eyes moved from the door to the girl. "I know about the Room of Requirements," he said calmly. What he didn't say was that he had been the one to create the room thousands of years ago, when his students built the rest of Hogwarts.
The girl calmed down slightly and asked, "Are you Dante Malfoy?"
He nodded, and her expression shifted to one of revelation. Before he could say anything, she grabbed his hand and dragged him into the room. Dante didn't resist; he felt something familiar about her, something that piqued his curiosity.
Inside, Dante noted the practice dummies scattered around the room. It seemed the girl had been practicing her dueling magic. He turned to her and said, "It was rude to drag someone like that."
The girl apologized quickly. "I'm Nymphadora Tonks," she said, "but you can call me Dora or Tonks. I'm your cousin. Our mothers are sisters."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "I've never heard of you or any cousin, for that matter."
Tonks explained, "Our families aren't on good terms. My mother married a muggle-born, so her family, Black, disowned her and your stood on their side."
Dante shook his head. "As dumb as that is, I can see my mother agreeing and rallying behind such a decision."
Tonks looked at him curiously. "You don't think it's a bad thing?"
Dante shrugged. "The blood theory is just stupid. I don't agree with it."
Tonks's face lit up, and her hair changed from purple to blue. Dante's eyes flickered with recognition. The familiar feeling he had sensed from her now made sense. She was a Metamorphmagus—a rare magical ability that allowed the user to alter their appearance at will.
Internally, Dante recalled the origin of Metamorphmagus. During his fourth life in ancient Greece, he had worked with a witch named Circe. She was fixated on her looks and wanted to be able to change it as well. Together, they had experimented with merging the magical properties of Boggarts with wizards. The result was: Circe becoming the first Metamorphmagus—a being capable of shapeshifting at will. What they hadn't anticipated was that the magical talent would become hereditary, Circe's children all had it and it is still passing down through generations. Even today, the ability persisted, a living legacy of his ancient experiments with Circe.
"I didn't expect you to be a Metamorphmagus," Dante said, his tone neutral but his mind lingering on the memory of Circe and their work.
Tonks nodded proudly. "It's a family thing. Comes in handy sometimes."
She then added, "I'm glad you're not another racist idiot," she said with a laugh. "No offense."
"None taken," Dante replied.
There was a moment of silence before Tonks spoke again. "I'm planning to become an Auror in the future, and I'm using this room to train. Don't tell anyone about it, okay?"
"I won't," Dante assured her.
Tonks thought for a moment, then added, "If you need help with your studies or if someone picks on you, come to me. Your elder cousin will help you."
Dante was amused by her words but thanked her nonetheless. He turned to leave, saying, "I'll come back later."
As he reached the door, Tonks called out, "Do you want to practice with me or watch a future elite Auror in action?"
Dante declined. "I have other things to do."
Once outside the Room of Requirements, Dante realized that with the room occupied, he would have to resort to the old way of accessing the restricted section. As he walked down the corridor, his body disappeared into thin air, leaving no trace of his presence.
That night, Dante explored the restricted section of the library, his presence undetected thanks to his mastery of magic. He moved silently through the aisles, his eyes scanning the titles of ancient tomes and forbidden scrolls. His search was focused on one thing: information about muggles and their advancements. Despite the mention of a powerful weapon called the 'Nuclear Bomb' in the public section of the library, the restricted section yielded nothing of value. There were no detailed studies, no analyses, not even a passing reference to the technological marvels muggles had achieved.
Dante's disappointment grew with every passing moment. The wizards of this era, with all their power and knowledge, had turned a blind eye to the world beyond their own. They had no interest in understanding the advancements of muggles, no curiosity about the forces that could threaten them. To Dante, this was a glaring failure—a sign of stagnation and blind arrogance.
As he left the restricted section, his thoughts turned to the Nuclear Bomb. The mere mention of it in the public area had intrigued him. A weapon of such destructive power, created without magic, was a testament to the ingenuity of muggles. Yet, the wizarding world seemed content to ignore it.
Dante shook his head slightly as he walked back to the Slytherin common room. The wizards of this era had fallen far behind, and if they continued down this path, their future would be bleak. Perhaps it was time to bridge the gap between the magical and non-magical worlds—before it was too late.