Harry Potter: The Progenitor Of Dark Arts

Fred and George Weasley had always considered themselves the kings of mischief, the masters of wit, and the bravest souls to ever walk the earth. Well, at least in their own minds. They were funny, smart, and courageous—fearless, even. Nothing scared them. Not even their mum's infamous wrath, which they viewed more as an annoying inconvenience than something to fear. After all, what was there to fear when you could outrun, outsmart, or out-charm just about anything?

The day they boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time was one of the most exciting days of their lives. The two of them practically bounced with anticipation, their trunks rattling behind them as they made their way through the train. Hogwarts! The place of magic, pranks, and endless possibilities. They couldn't wait to get started.

The first compartment they entered seemed quiet enough. A blond boy their age sat alone, his nose buried in a book. Fred and George exchanged a look, their eyebrows shooting up in unison. [Who reads on their first day to Hogwarts?] The question hung in the air between them, unspoken but understood. This was too good an opportunity to pass up.

With matching grins, they plopped themselves down on the seats opposite the boy. "Fred Weasley," said Fred.

George followed "George Weasley,"

"We are the Weasley twins." Said simultaneously.

The blond boy looked up from his book, his expression calm and as plain as it can get.

"Dante Malfoy," he replied simply.

The name hit them like a Bludger to the chest. Malfoy. The twins froze, their grins faltering for a moment. They knew that name all too well. The Malfoys were a Death Eater family, one that had been at odds with the Weasleys for as long as they could remember. Their dad had told them stories—dark stories about the Malfoys and their allegiance to the Dark Lord.

Both recovered at the same time, their grin returning, though it was sharper now. "You are the son of death eaters!" said in unison, their tone laced with mockery.

Dante didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. His response was a single, calm word: "Yes."

No anger, no defensiveness, no emotion at all. Just… yes.

The twins exchanged another look, this one more uncertain. They hadn't expected that. They were used to getting a rise out of people, especially when they poked at something sensitive. But Dante Malfoy was like a stone wall—cold and emotionless.

Not ones to back down, Fred and George doubled down. They insulted his family, calling them shameless and had no pride. They hated Death Eaters, and they weren't about to let the son of one sit there like he was above it all.

Finally, they got a reaction—but it wasn't the one they expected.

Dante's eyes snapped to theirs, and suddenly, their bodies froze. It was as if an invisible force had wrapped around them, locking their limbs in place. They couldn't move, couldn't speak. All they could do was stare into Dante's cold, piercing eyes. They had never seen eyes like that before—empty, yet filled with something dark and dangerous.

When Dante spoke, his voice was low and steady, but every word carried a weight that made their blood run cold. "I don't care about your antics, but I won't tolerate insults to my name. This is the last time I'll let it slide," he said, "If it happens again, I'll make you—and your entire family—suffer."

Fred and George believed him. There was something in his tone, in those icy eyes, that left no room for doubt. This wasn't an empty threat. Dante Malfoy meant every word.

And then he said something that made their hearts pound even harder. "Trust me, this Voldemort you all fear…" he continued, his voice almost casual. "is a harmless angel compared to me."

The twins couldn't breathe. Their hearts were racing like never before, their instincts screaming at them to get away, to run as far as they could from this evil boy. When the invisible force finally released them, they didn't hesitate. They bolted out of the compartment, not daring to look back.

They ran to the other side of the train, their legs carrying them as fast as they could go. When they finally found an empty compartment, they slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the seats, their chests heaving.

Fred looked at George, and George looked at Fred. Both of their faces were pale, their eyes wide with fear. They didn't know what had just happened, but one thing was clear: Dante Malfoy was pure evil.

The rest of the train ride passed in a blur. When they finally arrived at Hogwarts, they made sure to keep their distance from Dante. They didn't want to be anywhere near him.

The Sorting Ceremony only confirmed their fears. Fred and George were sorted into Gryffindor, the house of the brave, the house of their parents and older brothers. They cheered and high-fived, but their celebration was short-lived.

Not long after, it was Dante's turn. He walked up to the Sorting Hat with the same calm, emotionless expression he'd had on the train. The hat barely touched his head before it shouted, "Slytherin!"

The twins exchanged a look. Of course he was a Slytherin. The house of snakes, the house of cunning and ambition—and, in their minds, the house of evil.

As they sat in the Great Hall, surrounded by their new housemates, Fred and George couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in their chests. For the first time in their lives, the fearless Weasley twins had met someone who truly scared them.

The days at Hogwarts rolled on, and Fred and George Weasley adjusted to their new life as Gryffindors. They made friends, pulled pranks, and generally caused the kind of chaos that made them feel right at home. But no matter how much fun they had, they couldn't shake the memory of Dante Malfoy. The boy was like a shadow lurking in the back of their minds, a constant reminder of their first—and only—encounter with someone who truly scared them.

Dante was, by all accounts, the perfect student. He answered every question correctly, performed every spell flawlessly, and even the professors couldn't help but sing his praises. It was infuriating. How could someone so dark and evil on the inside be so perfect on the outside?

To make matters worse, Snape, the greasy git of a Potions professor, had taken a particular delight in using Dante's perfection as a weapon against Gryffindor. Every time Dante answered a question correctly or brewed a potion perfectly, Snape would smirk and deduct points from Gryffindor for doing worse while showering Slytherin with praise. It was like Dante was Snape's golden boy, and the twins were sick of it.

One thing they found strange about Dante was his obsession with books. The boy was always reading, always studying. If they didn't know better, they might have thought he was a Ravenclaw sorted into Slytherin by mistake. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that Dante was a threat, and the twins weren't about to let him get away with making their lives miserable.

After days of discussion and planning, Fred and George decided it was time to strike back. Sure, they were afraid of Dante, but wasn't courage all about overcoming fear? They were Gryffindors, after all—the house of the brave. They couldn't let some evil Slytherin bully them into submission.

Their plan was simple: prank Dante and humiliate him in front of everyone. What could he do to them, anyway? They were in Hogwarts, surrounded by professors and students. He couldn't possibly retaliate without getting into trouble.

They studied Dante's movements carefully and discovered that he always went to the library early on weekends, using an empty corridor to get there. It was the perfect opportunity for an ambush. They decided to use their secret stash of pranking supplies—Dungbombs and Fanged Frisbees—to teach him a lesson. The plan was to make him run in pain and smell like crap, a classic Weasley prank.

The day of the ambush arrived, and the twins hid in their chosen spot, their hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. When Dante finally appeared, walking calmly down the corridor, they didn't hesitate.

"Now!" Fred whispered, and they launched their attack.

Dungbombs flew through the air, ready to explode in a cloud of stench, while the Fanged Frisbees whizzed toward Dante, their sharp teeth glinting, promising pain. The twins held their breath, waiting for the chaos to unfold.

But chaos never came.

Instead, everything they threw froze in mid-air. The Dungbombs hung suspended, their fuses sizzling but not exploding, and the Frisbees hovered motionless, their teeth inches from Dante's face.

The twins stared in shock as Dante turned to look at them, his expression as emotionless as ever. He didn't look surprised or angry—just mildly annoyed, as if they were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

With a casual wave of his hand, Dante sent the Dungbombs and Frisbees flying back at the twins.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Fred shouted as a Dungbomb exploded in his face, filling the air with a foul stench.

"Merlin's beard!" George yelped as a Fanged Frisbee sliced through his sleeve, leaving a shallow cut on his arm.

The twins scrambled to catch the Frisbees and avoid the worst of the Dungbombs, but it was no use. Within seconds, they were covered in cuts and reeking of dung.

And Dante? He didn't even stop. He just continued walking down the corridor, completely unfazed, as if the twins were beneath his notice.

Once they finally managed to get the Frisbees under control and catch their breath, Fred and George looked at each other. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and frustration.

"He didn't even care," Fred muttered, his voice trembling.

"He didn't even look back at us," George added, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

It was their greatest defeat, not because they had lost the prank war, but because Dante hadn't even acknowledged them as a threat. To him, they were insignificant—beneath his attention.

As they trudged back to Gryffindor Tower, covered in cuts and smelling like a troll's armpit, the twins couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness. They had tried to stand up to Dante, to prove they weren't afraid, but all they had done was prove how powerless they were against him.

For the first time in their lives, Fred and George Weasley felt truly defeated. And they had no idea what to do about it.