Chapter 23: A Treasured Secret

"Told you so."

Harry had shared the day's events with Ron and Hermione, a small part of him quite enjoying the looks on their faces as he gave the details of his impromptu "test". Once he was finished, he had delivered the sentence with a smile.

Hermione looked nonplussed. "'Told us so' how?"

"Dante is the Son of Sparda."

She continued to look at him uncomprehendingly. "…How did you come to that based on what we just talked about?"

"Remember when I told you about wounding one of the green ones? The one that had just eaten what was left of its mate?"

Ron frowned, looking slightly green himself. "Ugh, did you have to bring that bit up again?"

"Well, when I pulled the blade back," he continued stubbornly, "there was no wound at all. And they were demons. So it stands to reason that Dante is part-demon, since he did something like that."

Hermione shook her head. "Harry, I'm sorry, but I don't think so. It's much more likely that Dante knows some kind of magic secret that we don't, and those…'demons' can mimic it naturally."

"Oh, come off it," said Harry, feeling a touch of frustration. "That's still not enough proof for you?"

"Harry, it's…it's just so unlikely. Which is more sensible; that demons can become humans and have children with them that can live thousands of years, or that creatures called demons have special magic that comes naturally to them?" She held up a hand to forestall his outburst. "And before you answer, think about the examples we already have! A kelpie can transform from one shape to another."

"And it's in our books as a water demon," replied Harry with a challenging smirk. She looked at Harry, and he could tell she was actually somewhat impressed he had remembered his Fantastic Beasts book that well. "It's on the same page as the kappa; I remember it because Snape got something wrong about the kappa and I wrote a note about it in the book."

She sighed. "Of course you did." She seemed to need a moment to stop herself from telling Harry off for defacing his schoolbooks. "So, getting back to what I was saying, kelpies can take a number of different forms. Sirius can take the form of a dog and go back to being a human, and yet you wouldn't tell me he's a kelpie."

"Obviously not." Hermione beamed at him. "Don't kelpies turn into women?"

"…Not really the point I was trying to make. Harry, you know what I mean!"

He rolled his eyes. "You mean that just because he can survive fatal wounds like a demon and heal instantly like a demon, that doesn't make him part or all-demon."

"Precisely."

"…Fine, don't believe me. We'll see if you change your mind when you fight some of those demons in class."

Both of them stared at him, speechless for several moments. "When…when we fight them?" said Ron at last.

"Dante said he'd be finding a way for the class to take them on, so when we do, you can tell me what you think." He felt a grim sense of satisfaction at their suddenly horrified faces. Then, he felt it replaced rapidly with something like shame. "But I'll give you some tips on how to deal with them," he added hurriedly, "and Dante said he wanted to find some proper cages, so I don't think we'll be in mortal peril or anything." They relaxed, and he felt a little better. It would actually be interesting to see how other people fought the demons that he'd encountered. Though I do hope that the green ones don't come across as spiders…

Going into the first Quidditch match of the season, Harry felt as if he was riding tall indeed. He'd battled demons for the first time and come out none the worse for wear, the secret Defence group was advancing nicely, he'd gotten two A's in Potions (which looked as if they'd been furiously carved into wood rather than written in ink), and he was eager for the chance to show up Malfoy in front of the whole school. While Dante had not revealed the captured demons to the class, he had reassured Harry in one of their training sessions that he was taking "all the chances to keep things safe" before that happened. On the whole, he couldn't see a single thing going wrong with the match, apart from Ron missing a goal or two, so he wasn't worried at all.

…In hindsight, he really should have known better.

Ron's performance in the match was not at all what he'd seen him capable of in practice; he hadn't saved a single goal, not helped by the fact that the Slytherins had created a song that was designed to rattle him. Perhaps it was this, however, that spurred Harry to catch the Snitch as quickly as he could, and even with the handful of goals against them, they won the match handily. Harry's elation at winning lasted all of a second before he was hit right in the back by a Bludger, courtesy of Goyle. While Goyle was being punished, Malfoy took the opportunity to goad Harry and the other Gryffindors, throwing in quite a few nasty comments and capping it all off by insulting Ron's family and then Harry's.

It was only after about the fifth time he and George had punched Malfoy that he realized their confrontation might not be in the best of places. But by then it was far too late, and they were caught. The details were still a bit shaky, given how enraged he'd been at the time, but the end result was that Umbridge got involved, and thanks to another stupid Ministry decree, got to declare that he, Fred, and George were all banned from Quidditch for life.

Furious, restless, and slightly regretful, Harry took some small solace in the notion that the problems were, at least, done with. He turned in that night thinking to himself that, after the situation had already hit rock bottom, things could only get better by comparison.

The smugness of Umbridge next day was horrible to deal with. Even though it was the weekend, she seemed to keep turning up in corridors, fixing him with her broad, toad-like grin every time they passed. By the third time, he was hard-pressed to keep himself from hexing her in her great ugly face. By the fifth time, he briefly entertained the idea of luring her into the Chamber of Secrets and wishing her best of luck before leaving. Not even the first snow of the season could lift his spirits, despite the beauty of several inches of snow adorning the castle and grounds.

The snow hit even harder on Sunday, and inches turned into feet, with all of Hogwarts' outside areas looking more like the North Pole than a school. He got into a snowball fight with all the Weasleys and Hermione (though the latter seemed reluctant to be there), and just as it seemed the tension was starting to lift from his mind, it had gotten dark and they needed to return to Gryffindor tower. Through it all, Harry couldn't help but wonder what he was supposed to do now that Quidditch had been taken away from him. He was half-tempted to schedule more lessons for the secret study group, though he knew that just because he couldn't do Quidditch didn't mean no one else could.

If the weekend had been bad, Monday was horrible. Harry caught a glimpse of Professor McGonagall looking melancholic at the staff table during breakfast, and it made his insides squirm with guilt. Umbridge, however, leered at him, as if daring him to challenge her, and he ended up leaving early just to get away from her. But the thing that made him feel the worst didn't happen until the end of the day, as the bell rang at the finish of their Defense lesson.

The man in red called out as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were about to exit the room. "Potter."

Harry froze. "Y-yes, Professor?"

"A word." He waved off Ron and Hermione, who spared Harry a worried glance. Harry nodded to them, and they joined the rest of the class in filing out of the room.

The tone from Dante was completely out of place. It was deliberate, cold, and edged; nothing at all the carefree cheekiness it usually was. Or was that simply an act, and this is his normal tone? Harry turned around, walking back to the professor's desk. The door closed, and he twitched slightly at the suddenness of the noise.

"I heard there was a problem at the match. Care to explain?" asked the man.

He gulped, but felt a stirring of irritation even so. Did he need to be punished further, after everything that had happened already? McGonagall's rage had been bad enough, as had Umbridge's unfair punishment! Well, he wasn't going to shrink back from this; no matter what Dante said, it was nothing compared to his own anger about the whole thing! That was why he explained what happened in a calm but firm tone, his stance all but daring Dante to yell at him.

Once he'd finished, Dante gave the slightest of nods. "Okay. So I can see why you'd want to hit him. After some insults like that, he'd earned some fisticuffs. But you made a mistake. What was it?"

He gritted his teeth. "I lost my temper."

"Wrong. You lost awareness of your surroundings." He looked directly at Harry's eyes, who suppressed a shudder; for a split-second, he'd felt as if he were a child at the feet of something tall and ominous. "Minerva's probably already given you a piece of her mind, I take it?" Harry nodded. "Then we'll skip the repeat and get to the new stuff. The one who hit you with the ball of iron; what was his name?"

"Goyle," he growled, "and I don't see you giving him this talk."

"He'll get what's coming to him, don't you worry. Now, Goyle was the one who hit you with that cannonball, and while he was getting yelled at, Malfoy started slingin' insults. I know you were in pain, but didn't you think it might be a trap? If it was the two of you alone and unmonitored, sure, clock him. But you were in a crowd. Hundreds of witnesses. All you had to do was wait. And you didn't."

Harry bit his lip. It certainly sounded sensible, standing here in this classroom and talking to the man in red; but in the moment, right after winning the game and his emotions running high…

"But I don't think you're takin' this seriously. So let me help you with that." He leaned back in his chair, and Harry heard the creak of wood as he gripped the armrests. Dante's blue eyes, usually so casual, now bore into Harry with such intensity that he almost felt he was being jabbed by icicles. "Let's say they were still working a plan out; Goyle distracts the adults and Malfoy approaches you. But what if they weren't just trying to get you kicked off the team? What if Malfoy starts yapping about your parents, you go to deck him, and then you feel a knife in your leg? Or your neck?"

Harry flinched, and then dropped his gaze. "H-he…he wouldn't…"

"No, he wouldn't. He's a kid, after all. But someone might. And you'll never know who, where, or when until it happens. And that is why you need to stay aware of your surroundings at all times."

He couldn't bear to look Dante in the eyes now. He felt like he wanted to become small enough to hide in the floorboards, just to get away from that look. It would have been one thing if Dante was angry. Harry almost wished he was; that he would yell, or even throw things. But this cold disappointment was almost too much to bear. "…I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Dante sighed, and Harry heard a creak from the chair. A few moments later, he felt hands on his shoulders, and dared to look up again. The man in red was looking at him at eye-level, speaking in a voice of both relief and encouragement. "Everyone makes mistakes, Harry. It's how we learn. As long as you've learned something from all this, there's nothing to be ashamed of." Harry nodded. "All right." He released Harry, standing up straight. "All that's left is two questions. First, can you promise you'll be more careful about pickin' your battlefield next time?"

"Yeah, I will," he said, the strength in his voice returning.

"Good. So, the other question…" He tried and failed to suppress a grin. "Did you at least get a good shot in?"

"I gave Malfoy a black eye," he said, unable to stop a smile of his own. "But Madam Pomfrey will have that long gone by now."

"That's a relief; might be awkward to compliment one of my students injuring another. Anyway, now that you don't have Quidditch practice…"

Harry had a suspicious feeling he knew what the man was about to say, and that he didn't really have much of a way to get out of it…

"I certainly hope this ends up paying off," he muttered as he finished his recap of the situation to Ron and Hermione, the three of them climbing back up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. "It's about the only thing that will get me through all the extra training."

Ron faltered slightly on the step just below Hermione. "Don't suppose I could do the weapons training in your place, could I?"

"No," Harry said firmly, staring at him. "You're brilliant if you don't let your nerves get to you. Besides…" He sighed. "It'd be nice if at least one of us still gets to fly."

There was a very uncomfortable pause. "…You'll get to," Ron said, though his voice lacked conviction.

Harry gave a hollow smile. "Not when she's got our three brooms locked up in her office. Although…maybe whoever it was that destroyed her office last time might pay her another visit."

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione said as they reached the top of the stairs. "I'd think whoever did that probably isn't worried about something that isn't technically illegal."

"And just whose side are you on?" challenged Ron.

"I realize she's horrible," she admitted, "but getting her back for a sporting matter? That seems a bit childish…"

The following morning, as other classes were being taught elsewhere in the castle, Dante looked over the large, gem-filled hourglasses in the Entrance Hall. He hadn't really given much thought to how many points a House would have in total before; he'd just handed a few out here and there to award cleverness, and then didn't bother to go any further with it. And really, it was minor in the grand scale of things; you couldn't even buy anything with the points you earned, like you could with Red Orbs. Still…he sympathized with having some healthy competition, even if it wasn't in terms of strength. And besides, it could have its uses…like now, for instance.

So one kid hits a cannonball into Harry's back after the game it's a part of is already over. And then another thinks "your mom" jokes are a good idea when your target's mom is dead. And, after all that, our helpful Umby decides to ban the kids that react and NOT the ones that started it. Whose brilliant idea was it to stick her in this place? He frowned. According to Harry, Umbridge was now in charge of all punishments at Hogwarts, which meant that if he took points away she could just go "nope" and give them all back. Realistically, she'd only do it to favor the Slytherins (weirdly, she really liked the little back-biters, for all that she seemed to hate children normally), so that was out. She probably thought she'd won completely with this little move of hers, and he had to admit he could see why.

But as she should have found out from the quill, messing with the Son of Sparda and thinking you were untouchable was a bad idea. He'd had a full decade of annoying puzzles to solve, meaning he had plenty of practice outthinking other annoying problems. And while she might have received authority over all punishments…

He hummed in thought, looking right at the hourglasses. "Let's see…fifty for the cannonball, fifty because of the potty mouth, and fifty to make a point. Should about do it." Dante cleared his throat. "A hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor. A hundred and fifty points to Hufflepuff. A hundred and fifty points to Ravenclaw." A large, Cheshire cat grin split his face as rubies, diamonds, and sapphires cascaded downwards from their respective bulbs. Sometimes, it was the simple things that made his day better. He looked at the Slytherin hourglass. "Let's see how quickly they can put this one together. Might even give them a few points if they do it before the weekend. …Maybe five total." He winked at the hourglass, and then strode casually away. Speaking of problems to solve, Harry's gonna have his first extra training session tonight. Hope those points cheer him up, 'cause he's gonna hate me tomorrow.

Sometimes I really hate him, Harry thought irritably.

They'd met up that evening outside Myrtle's bathroom, after everyone had gone to supper, but rather than going inside, Dante had instead pulled out that roll of parchment that he'd used to find the Mystery with the reflecting lasers. He had announced, to Harry's lack of surprise, that they were going to be hunting another Mystery, and he'd handed Harry the golden apple that had been collected from the last one. He'd then told Harry, rather matter-of-factly, that his training would be getting to the sixth floor and keeping the apple away from Dante. He'd barely finished speaking before launching a punch straight at Harry' face.

Which was why Harry was now running for his life, using every single secret passage and shortcut he knew of to try getting to the sixth floor before the Defense professor could catch up to him.

Just once, he thought desperately, diving into a tapestry in a corridor on the fourth floor, just ONCE I'd like to get through one of these things without nearly killing myself! He tumbled through it to the secret passage beyond, running up the slightly inclined floor as it wound its way up to the fifth floor. Running through the tapestry concealing the exit to the passage, he almost tripped over an outstretched leg just beyond, only barely managing to hop over it in time.

"Not bad," said Dante, retracting his leg and staring at Harry. The Gryffindor feinted to the left, and as the man in red moved to grab at him he sprinted to the right. This time, however, he wasn't fast enough to avoid being tripped; the apple he was holding tumbled out of his hands and clattered across the floor. He scrambled to his feet, swiping up the apple before Dante could get it and sprinting towards the staircase leading to the sixth floor. As his feet touched the stone steps, the staircase swung its bottom section away from the landing towards one on the opposite side of the stairwell. Harry clutched at the stitch in his side, gasping for breath, but grinned at Dante as he strode up to the landing that was no longer attached to Harry's staircase. Harry waved the hand holding the apple at him, as cheekily as he could manage while trying to catch his breath again.

Dante, however, seemed unconcerned. Without even a run-up, Dante leapt across the empty space, landing neatly on the step just above Harry. Harry gaped at him, and he gave a cheeky grin of his own, plucking the apple out of Harry's hands before he could even react. "Well, looks like you failed this time. You did okay, but you should've kept running up the stairs." He tossed the apple into the air, catching it casually. "There's another lesson for you; don't rest easy until you're actually done." The staircase locked into place, and he strode up them. "So you'd better get moving; you're not even close to being done."

Harry trudged along behind, too out of breath to speak. By the time he could, Dante had already stopped some distance into the sixth-floor corridor. Once Harry caught up he used that odd eye again, causing a patch of castle wall to ripple and reform into a door. Dante threw it open, and both of them strode into the room, the door closing behind them.

They were in a massive area with all the furnishings of a dining hall. While only about half the size of the Great Hall, it was resplendent in bright colours and curtains that were almost certainly made of silk. Gold coins that looked twice the size of Galleons were scattered about, seemingly due to carelessness. A long dining table divided the room, bedecked with golden goblets and bottles (and more gold coins), draped with crimson-coloured cloths and-

"So, you can probably tell where our apple goes."

Harry nodded, looking up above the table. A group of golden statues are all floating in mid-air, gathered together; as if fighting over something. He tilted his head, looking at the point they converged together. Their hands look as if they should be holding some kind of object…

"Your friend called this the 'Apple of Discord', didn't she?" Dante asked. Without warning, he tossed Harry the apple. "Well, no time like the present."

Harry fumbled with the catch a bit, but managed to not drop it. "Shall I…use the Apple of Discord?"

Dante gave him an impatient look. "Yes."

Harry looked back towards the statues. Without his Firebolt, the only way to reach where they were floating was to stand on the table and drop the apple into their hands. Sighing, he clambered onto the dining table, walking cautiously toward the half-dozen golden figures. "They're not going to…I dunno…spring to life and strangle me, are they?"

"Nah, they wouldn't."

With a final worried look at the statues, Harry stretched his arm out, setting the golden apple in their hands.

"…Probably."

Six golden heads swiveled around to stare at Harry, who stumbled back rapidly. "'Probably'?!" However, they made no motion to attack him. Instead, one of the bottles on the table began rising up into the air, and to Harry's bewilderment, the statues actually seemed to be crying. A cloudy, silvery liquid was leaking from their eyes at a rapid pace, flowing down their arms and dripping into the floating bottle. Harry could hear it fill up in moments; the statues' tears ended, and the bottle floated gently over to him. Hesitantly, Harry reached out to take the bottle.

As soon as he had, there was a metallic crashing sound, and he saw the statues shatter. As they did, he saw a black mist leak out from within them. "What the-?!" There was a strange sound behind them, and he whirled around; a sort of glowing red spider's web had formed over the door they'd walked through.

"Dammit," growled Dante, drawing two pistols; one black and one white. Harry followed suit, drawing his wand. "Wait, where's your knife?"

"I left it in my trunk upstairs!"

There was a rattling within the room. Harry turned back around, and saw that as the black mist was contorting into a new shape, every bit of gold was flying toward it, forming an odd sort of shell around the mist.

"Why'd you leave it upstairs?!"

"Because I wasn't expecting to FIGHT A MONSTER TODAY!" he yelled back.

"New lesson! Expect to fight a monster EVERY day! And don't spill that!" the man in red said, nodding toward the bottle he was holding.

Harry growled, tucking his left arm close to himself as the bits of gold finally stopped moving. They had formed a large, wolf-shaped shell around the blackness; the only visible mist now was leaking out of where the claws, fangs, and eyes should have been. The form dropped onto the table, and Harry heard a strange rattling noise from it, as if dozens of gold coins were all scraping together at once. "Confringo!" he shouted. The red-orange orb leapt from his wand, but when it impacted the gold wolf it merely ricocheted off with a loud gonging sound, slamming into the far wall and shattering several of the stones.

"Bullet!" Dante called out, firing his black pistol at the strange creature. Though the bullet was not visible like Harry's spell had been, the effect was much the same, if the chip that flew out of the far wall was any indication. "…Nope, didn't really help."

With a metallic screech, the wolf leapt at Harry. The Gryffindor jumped to the side, feeling the liquid in the bottle sloshing around as the creature sailed past him. "Depulso!" But the Banishing Charm not only seemed to have no effect on the golden wolf, it also forced Harry back several feet, his trainers skidding across the table as he only barely kept his balance.

"Thought you were going to work on the silent spells," said Dante casually. Harry looked at him; he didn't seem all that bothered about the cobbled-together golden statue attempting to kill his own student.

"Don't suppose you could help?!"

Dante shrugged as the creature leapt at Harry again. "I'm not always gonna be around to clean up messes." He kept talking casually, even as Harry dodged over and over again. "You gotta be able to take care of yourself once I'm gone."

"What good…is that…if I die…NOW?" snapped Harry in-between avoiding the monster's attacks. The wolf stopped at the far end of the table and began making that scraping noise again; Harry took the moment to try and catch his breath. After a few moments, however, the wolf turned around, and there was a metallic clink. All his instincts screamed at him to get down, but falling forward would crush the bottle. Instead, he threw himself backwards as the face of the statue just…exploded at him. Coins, dishware, and what looked like golden glass cut through where his head had been but a second ago. "Damn!"

THWACK!

He raised his head up, looking at the statue. A spray of what looked like black blood seemed to have burst from the opposite side of where Dante was standing. His black pistol had a trail of smoke leading up from its barrel, and he was staring at it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sorry, but we're not big on party favors. Just that bottle of stuff we got and the blood you've got left, and we'll call it a day."

"Changed your mind on helping, did you?" Harry said, grinning as he got to his feet, ignoring the exhaustion he felt.

"You insisted. But just so you know, I'm docking your grade for it." He beckoned to the wolf, whose body was shifting slightly as its armor moved back up to cover its head. "C'mon, you gold-plated mutt."

Its head re-armored, it turned to glare at the Devil Hunter. As it did, Harry noticed that a section of its back was exposed. "Glacius!" he yelled.

A jet of freezing air hit the black mist, and the statue gave a screech of anger. It whirled on Harry, lashing its tail at him. Harry leaned out of the way, but not quite fast enough; he felt the shards of gold cut a narrow line into his right cheek. However, he couldn't afford to pay it any attention; the creature's attack had left its tail unguarded. "Impedimenta!"

The spell was even more effective than Harry had thought it would be. The statue did not stumble, fly back, or fall over. Rather, it seemed to freeze solid, like…well…like a statue. "Get it!" he shouted to Dante.

The man in red stuffed his pistols into his coat, and seemed to draw that electric sword of his from nowhere. He sliced into the creature once, twice, three times, before finishing with a thrust so powerful that the monster flew into the far wall, shattering like glass. A weak, hazy black mist hovered out of it, wobbling in the air. With a crackle of electricity, the sword vanished again, and he drew his white pistol, firing it at the mist cloud. There was a spray of black blood, and the mist dissolved. Harry noticed the bits of gold around the room were dissolving as well, turning into more of those red orb things. There was a shattering sound behind them, and he saw that the spiderweb over the door had vanished.

"Phew…that was rough," the Gryffindor muttered.

"Eh, you coulda done better. I'm gonna have to go with…a 'C' for this." He frowned. "Well, a 'P' in your terms."

"What?!"

He shrugged. "You asked for help, I had to dock your score. I told you."

"This isn't a game, Dante!"

The man smirked. "Oh yeah? Then why are you still smiling?"

Harry blinked, absently feeling his face. To his surprise, Dante was right; he was smiling. But…why?

Dante seemed to be ignoring his confusion. He'd put his pistol away again, and was rummaging in his coat. "No…no…how do I still have that?...Ah, here we go!" He pulled a small object out, tossing it at Harry.

He caught it, staring at the object. It was a small cork.

"So you don't spill that stuff. Oh, and I know it smells like wine, but…I would advise you don't drink it." He strode past Harry, opening the door. "Well, c'mon. Night's still young, and you've got more training to do."

Harry followed, stuffing the cork into the bottle and frowning to himself. Why had he been smiling just then? That…demon, or whatever it was had almost taken his head off at least three times.

So why…?

CHAPTER END

ENEMY FILE

New! Plutus

- An evil spirit that haunts hordes of great wealth. It possesses the gold of such places to form a shell that protects its true form.

- The golden armor protects it from any damage, even that which is magical in nature. Attacking it blindly will have no effect.

- The demon can fire the materials protecting it like shrapnel. While very deadly, it is left vulnerable right after. Counterattack quickly before it can re-form its armor.

- The more damage the demon takes, the less armor it can have control over. When you sense it is weak, attack with everything you have!

4/4

ITEM FILE

New! Amrita Wine

A legendary drink said to grant immortality. You cannot use this item as a consumable, but perhaps there is another purpose for it…

Yikes, that took a while. Still, here's another chapter! Hope you've all been having a good summer.