Chapter 21: Fools Rush In

I'm tired of being ignored!

Dolores Umbridge tromped through the halls of Hogwarts, setting a direct course for the staff room. She was sick and tired of being treated in such a way; to think that she, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, would have to take such initiative! As she reached the door, she heard the muted sounds of a conversation; to her relief, there was the unmistakable timbre of the Headmaster. Excellent. She flung the door open, marching inside.

"…and so she says to the bartender- Oh, hey, Dora! Whatcha want?"

Umbridge grit her teeth. Sitting at the staff table were both people she least liked at the moment; the Headmaster and Dante. And while she had need to discuss things with Dumbledore, she had no inclination to speak with the American. Then, she registered what he'd said. "…'Dora'?" Umbridge bit out.

"Yeah. You wanted somethin'?" the infuriating man said, lounging in his chair.

She breathed slowly through her nose before hitching a smile onto her face. "The headmaster and I have things we need to talk about."

"Well, go for it."

A vein twitched on her forehead. "…These things require some privacy."

"We're all teachers here. Besides, two heads are better than one."

She glared at the headmaster, who was watching the whole scene with polite amusement. "Fine then," Umbridge growled, a smile spreading across her face. I won't give in to your uncouth taunting, she thought before returning to her most polite tone. "Professor Dumbledore, I wish to speak with you about my inspections."

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, smiling. "What about them do you wish to discuss?"

"As you know, my position as High Inquisitor obligates me to examine the other professors here, to determine whether they must make alterations to their course work. Therefore, it is imperative that I be able to inspect all of the professors."

"A very logical circumstance," the headmaster said, nodding.

Her patience broke. "Then why have you been preventing me from inspecting Dante's class?!" she hissed.

"Professor Dante," he began, and she bristled at the polite rebuke, "has been taking his lessons consistently at the assigned times, just as you have, Professor. I have not been preventing you in any fashion from conducting your inspection."

"But all of my lessons are scheduled at the same time as his!"

He held up his hands in apology. "That is a simple but unavoidable side-effect of trying to fit all the courses into a schedule for every year. Some must always overlap, however unfortunate it may be."

"And how is it," she said in her honeyed-poison voice, "that all of our lessons just happen to be at the same times?"

"Coincidence, naturally," he said as he folded his hands together.

"'Coincidence'?!" she hissed through her teeth.

"The schedules are drawn up months in advance of the start of term, Professor," Dumbledore said, still infuriatingly calm. "Neither of you had been brought on for your current posts when we were finalizing the schedules. I am not scheming to prevent you from attending his lessons, as you seem to be implying; unintentionally, I am sure."

Umbridge wanted very much to stamp her foot and yell at the old Headmaster. She KNEW he'd done it on purpose! And yet he sat there, hiding behind rules and regulations just to excuse getting what he wanted! However, she was the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and she had every intention of making Albus Dumbledore recognize it. "Of course," she said, reining her anger in. "…Unintentionally. But my duties do compel me to inspect every professor, regardless of scheduling."

"I quite understand," Dumbledore said, smiling at her over his hands. "To get a better picture of our educational standards, it is important to see all of our education."

Dante was leaned back in his chair, observing the proceedings as if he were supremely amused. In fact, she felt an eye twitch as she saw him with his feet directly on the table in front of him. How uncultured!

"I am glad you understand," Umbridge said, doing her best to ignore the American. "So you agree that you will fix our schedules so that I may inspect him during a free period?"

Dumbledore's smile dropped slightly. "My apologies, Professor, but I will not do that."

"You're the Headmaster!" she snapped at him. "Surely you have the power to alter the schedule as you see fit; and if you have that power, then you should use it to-"

"Professor."

She halted abruptly. Dumbledore hadn't shouted, or slammed the table, or leaped to his feet. He'd merely said one word as he set his hands down on the table. And yet that one word spoken sternly had resonated far more powerfully than a shout had. Dante was no longer looking relaxed; his feet were back on the floor, and he looked somewhat surprised.

"This is a school, as I am sure you are aware," the Headmaster continued in a soft but commanding voice. She found herself listening carefully despite her dislike for the man, and for a brief moment she felt a sharp stab of jealousy. What she'd give to have the kind of authority that his voice rang with! "We have our students' futures in our hands from the time they arrive to the time they leave, and even beyond that. That is not a responsibility to be taken lightly. It may seem trivial to reschedule times for two subjects for a single day, but that day could be the difference between either a passing or a failing grade for any number of the students involved. And of course, we have our O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. classes to think of; a failed exam for either could crush the prospects of the next generation of Healers, or Curse-Breakers…or Ministry employees," he allowed with a brief smile. "But what if it were more than just a single day? I believe you have currently placed Professor Trelawney on probation, which has resulted in you observing her classes more frequently. Rearranging the entire timetable would greatly disrupt the studies of our charges, especially now that we've almost reached Halloween. Perhaps it would be possible were you not a professor in addition to your Inquisitorial duties…but new posts often take time to adjust to."

She hated Dumbledore. Hated that he was being logical and calm to hide his plots against the Ministry. But she would not let him win. "Perhaps," she allowed, but seethed inwardly. "I shall see what can be arranged. Good day, Headmaster." Umbridge turned on her heel and strode out of the staffroom door. I'll find a way to catch you out yet, you uncouth foreigner. Mark my words!

Dante watched her go, smirking as the door shut behind her. "I think I've made a friend."

By the time the first Quidditch match was drawing near, Harry felt as if he was on top of the world. The Defense group was thriving, and Hermione had even gotten them a secret way of communicating meeting times (enchanted fake Galleons, which had been a disappointment to Ron as he'd actually thought she was handing out money for a few moments); about the only complaint he had was that they still hadn't thought of a name, due to being so exhausted by the time they were done with their meetings. Cho even seemed to be more willing to speak with Harry, and he found himself looking forward to any excuse to be near her. He was feeling a great sense of pride and defiance by continuing the group right under Umbridge's nose; she'd seemed to be looking for an excuse to get Harry in trouble ever since her confrontation with the Gryffindor fireplace, and yet hadn't had one. He'd been managing good marks in all of his classes (even the occasional Acceptable in Potions, which had Snape fuming), and Defense was becoming the next-best thing to Defence Against the Dark Arts (the real version, anyway, not the farce that was Umbridge's lessons); Dante had kept them on a steady split between planning and action, and those in Harry's Defense group were coming out of the action sessions beaming.

To top it all off, his new training had been revealed, and it was something he'd almost been hoping for, especially since Dante had told him to bring his practice weapon.

"I'm fighting blindfolded?" asked Harry.

They had moved into the Chamber of Secrets proper this time; Dante had said they needed "as much room as they could squeeze outta the place". He'd assumed that meant that they would be doing some sort of mock-combat, and it seemed he wouldn't be disappointed.

Dante smiled, tossing him a red strip of cloth. "You got it. There're a few extras here and there, but that's the basic idea. Plus, this way you'll have a more difficult time decking me in the face."

Harry scratched his head sheepishly. "Er…right. Sorry about that."

"No, no. Serves me right for not expectin' a kid to act like a kid." Harry's eye twitched, but the man seemed not to notice. "Anyway, for this task we're gonna relax the rules, just for you. All warmed up?" Harry nodded. "Good. Put it on and arm yourself."

Harry did as instructed, wrapping the cloth over his eyes and tying it at the back. Once he had, he drew the small blade Dante had given him from his robes. "Okay, now what?"

"You got it on tight? You can't see how many fingers I'm holding up, can you?"

Harry snorted. "Now how could I do that when I'm-" He staggered forward as something hit the back of his head; it took all his concentration just to keep his body upright and his hands gripping the small blade. "Hey!"

"Lesson one," Dante retorted. "And since we're relaxing the rules, I don't have to say when the training starts. Assume that once the blindfold goes on, it's combat time."

"Fine," Harry growled between gritted teeth. "What'd you hit me with, anyway? A rock?"

"That was a finger-poke at bare minimum strength. I didn't actually do more than nudge you; your surprise did the work for me. But you kept your balance, so it's good to know you're not forgetting previous sessions, at least."

Harry didn't respond, edging slowly toward where he'd heard Dante's voice. Knowing how previous sessions had gone (and what Dante had said earlier), he knew there would be some trick to this beyond just the blindfold. Was there going to be some trap laid, or perhaps a sound to overwhelm his sense of direction?

He had to be in range by now. He swung his practice weapon in the direction of where Dante's voice had been, but hit nothing. There was an odd sensation through his body; he felt as if someone was only just behind him. He whirled around, slicing the weapon through…the air.

"You look kinda silly, flailing around like that," came Dante's voice from some distance to his left.

Harry turned towards the voice, and then he felt his legs fly out from under him. He didn't fall for long, however; something caught him and carefully raised him back to his feet.

"It's good to listen to where your opponent is, and if you were fighting a human, it'd probably carry you through. But it's not just humans you're gonna be taking on. If you rely on one sense to do the work of two, you're even more screwed if something is invisible to that sense. So you've gotta use several senses at once. And maybe, just maybe, you'll develop another one to give you the edge you need."

It was the strangest thing; Harry could have sworn that the sensation of someone lifting him back up was only just finishing when Dante had begun talking from several feet away. Is there someone else here? Lady, maybe? He turned away from where he'd heard Dante's voice, trying to see if he could feel something in that direction. Use several senses, hm? Well, I can't taste my way out of this, so maybe… Keeping his ears attuned, Harry took a careful breath through his nose. As he did, he noticed something unfamiliar. The smell was almost as if rotten raspberries had been mixed with old meat. "There's something else here."

"Hey, nice job! You-" Dante broke off, and Harry could have sworn he heard the man's gloved hands clench into fists. "Take the blindfold off. Now."

Harry obeyed at the urgency in his mentor's voice. The instant he could see past the material, he saw motion flicker in the corner of his eye. Was that something moving? Or…someone? As he was getting the fabric off his eyes, he heard something off in the distance. It sounded like some type of electric saw that had activated in a tunnel. "What is it?"

"Try 'what are they'," Dante said to his right. With a casual ease, he drew some sort of firearm from the depths of his coat. "And if I'm remembering right, they're about the best you could hope for when it comes to your first 'test'."

"'First' test?" He looked down at the small blade he was holding. Suddenly he felt somewhat under-armed. Swapping the blade to his left hand, he drew his wand with his right. Better, at least.

"Let's just hope you don't have a final exam. Now look alive, kid!" There was the skittering of many legs and a buzzing that, with less echoing as it approached, was beginning to sound like wings. Harry saw the glowing red eyes before the creatures came close enough to be seen properly. When they had, Harry's own eyes widened considerably.

They were bugs, but not any ordinary ones; these bugs were the size of a large motorcycle. There were blue flying ones that were the source of the buzzing; they looked like all the worst parts of a fly, mosquito and a wasp all mixed together. Then there were green ones crawling on the ground; they looked like beetles with the spindly legs of a water strider. And then, behind the rest, there were two red objects bobbing in the water around Salazar Slytherin's statue.

"Are these…?"

"Demons, yeah," Dante finished for him. "Questions later; get ready to fight!"

The insect demons advanced on them, one of the fly-like ones making a beeline for Harry. His eyes narrowed. Here goes nothing! "Confringo!" An orange orb of light rocketed at the demon, hitting it with explosive force. The demon didn't even have time to react before it exploded like a water balloon, pieces of it scattering everywhere and covering the floor with a foul green liquid and what looked like maggots. "Eeurgh!"

"You can vomit on your own time, kid. Don't let them eat it!" warned Dante.

"Eat it?" asked Harry in confused revulsion. But one of the green ones advanced forward, stopping at the remains of the flying bug. It began to slurp up the pieces of its fallen comrade, even as the green sludge around it seemed to crystallize and change in colour. As the bug demon ate, Harry could see it growing even bigger.

"Might wanna, you know, stop it?" suggested Dante, not even breathing hard despite the sounds of battle from his direction.

Harry shook himself out of his stupor and attacked, sending another Blasting Curse out. This time it sent the demon sprawling onto its back, but didn't actually seem to kill it. He recalled the blade in his left hand, and charged at the demon before it could recover. As its legs flailed in the air, he plunged the weapon downward. He felt the claws of one of the legs rake across his arm, but the blade stabbed into the creature's thorax, and Harry drove it in to the hilt.

As the insect let out a loud squeal, Harry heard a noise to his right. Without looking, he pointed his wand in that direction and shouted "Stupefy!" He heard the sound of something falling to the ground, and he withdrew the blade from the creature's underside. To his surprise, there was no visible wound or mark on the creature from its injury; in fact, it was still stirring, and it rolled around onto its feet. Without really thinking, he yelled "Depulso!" The insectoid demon flew through the air, colliding with one of the flying blue bugs. Both of them crumpled to the ground, and he pointed his wand at them. A Blasting Curse managed to blow through both of them, but Harry had no time to enjoy the moment, as he was surrounded by three of the blue flyers.

"Don't let them spit on you!" advised Dante.

"Don't let them what?" asked Harry as he dodged the claws of his flying opponents.

"Don't let them spit on you!"

"What?"

"Don't let-" Dante broke off and sighed. "You'll figure it out."

"Diffindo!" called out Harry, slicing through one of his attackers, but the others were already moving, unconcerned with their fellow demon. They spat at Harry, a gob of what looked like maggots covering him and wriggling around. "EURGH! It spat on me!"

"Oh, no, imagine that, if only I'd warned you."

Forcing his lunch back down, Harry pointed his wand at one of the flying demons. "Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted. To his horror, however, nothing happened. "What?!"

"That's not maggots, it's an evil curse," called Dante. "You'll need to shake 'em off if you want to start blasting again!"

"Of all the-!" He ducked under the flyers as they swooped at him, scraping away the maggot-like substance with the dullest section of his handheld blade. "You should've taught us this in class!"

"…Huh. You got a point." There was a rattle of chains, and then a cracking noise. Harry chanced a look over at him and saw that a large block of ice had appeared next to him. There was something large contained within it, but Harry didn't have time to observe much more before he dodged another swoop from his opponents.

Flying enemies, flying enemies…what did I do for that lesson?...Right! Finally getting the last of the disgusting stuff off of him, he pointed his wand at the closest demon. Please work! "Aguamenti!" This time, his spell worked; the jet of water soaked the insectoid demon's wings as it zoomed at him. With the appendages thoroughly waterlogged, the demon dropped from the air, skidding past Harry. "Petrificus Totalus!" he said a second time, and this time, the spell succeeded, the last of the flying demons falling to the ground. He looked around, still tense and ready to respond if needed. "…I think that's the last of them."

A shape leapt from the water on one side of the chamber, barreling into the demon under the Full-Body Bind and carrying it into the water on the other side. Harry had a glimpse of something red and snake-like as it crashed into the water and disappeared from view.

"You were saying?" said Dante.

Harry snorted, his breathing still elevated. It was strange; even though this was undoubtedly a life-or-death fight, this wasn't at all like fighting Voldemort had been. This was him against creatures that seemed to feel nothing but hunger. Something about it almost…well, it almost felt…

Another red shape leapt from the water, this time directly at Harry. He had expected this, however, and acted accordingly; instead of trying to leap up over the demon or to its side, he let himself fall backwards, swapping his blade to a reverse-grip. As the creature barreled toward him, he noticed more of its appearance. Its head was devoid of eyes or ears of any kind, merely being a gaping mouth with rows and rows of serrated teeth. Its body looked like a flayed arm, covered in cancerous-looking growths. Its shape made it look less like a snake and more like a fat worm…not that it changed his plan to deal with it. He buried the weapon up to the hilt just past the creature's mouth as it missed him, its momentum carving a gash that trailed all the way to the tip of its tail. Harry had immediately closed his eyes upon his attack, and it was a good thing; he could feel large amounts of blood drench him as his weapon kept cutting, only daring to open his eyes once he felt no more resistance against his knife.

He got to his feet, looking at the demonic worm that had attacked. It gave one last, feeble lurch before dissolving into a yellowish-green muck, which soon disappeared, leaving behind more red stones. To his surprise, he found that some of the blood that had covered him had also transmuted into the same red stones. Absently, he began picking them out of his clothes and pocketing them. "What are these things?"

"Red Orbs. I get the feeling you'll figure out what you need 'em for soon enough. And aren't you forgetting something?" As Harry looked at him, he saw that the man's original gun was no longer in his hands; instead, there was a rifle nearly as tall as he was being pointed directly at him.

"Wait!" he yelled, flinching backward.

BANG!

Harry froze in shock and horror, and yet felt no pain. A split-second later, he heard something large fall to the ground behind him with a splat. Turning to look at it, it was another of the worms, but this one was much larger than its fellow demon had been. He sighed. "There're always more, aren't there?"

"Which is why I'm not deducting points for it; you can't sense 'em like I can, so you wouldn't have known."

"Is that all of them, then?" asked Harry, pulling a small red orb from between his hair and ear. As he did, a small part of him felt an odd emptiness somewhere in his stomach; what was that all about?

"Yep." Harry turned to him. He got a shock as he did, however, as he saw the man was now surrounded by large ice cubes. Deciding to investigate later, he instead watched the man closely. "Now, time to grade your quiz. You remembered lesson one well, you adapted your tactics okay, and you remembered you had a close-range weapon to use. But…" The white-haired man gave him something of a knowing frown. "I think you know what I'm gonna say."

"I lost my focus and one of them hit me," Harry said, showing the wound on his arm.

"Good. That'll get you a few points back. By the way, go grab that green orb; I don't want you wounded in a place like this if you can help it." He motioned to where the other worm had fallen.

Harry turned around to look. Where the demon had been, there was now only a small green crystal laying on the stone. He picked it up, but before he could do anything with it, it leapt from his fingers and collided with his bloodied arm. "What the-?!" But he never finished his sentence; to his astonishment, the crystal seemed to melt, running into the wound. A feeling of relaxation overcame his arm, and the cuts closed instantly. He gasped, raising his arm and shaking it slightly. There was no pain, no soreness; it felt as if he hadn't exercised it a bit in the last two hours, and yet it was just as loose as it had been right after his warmup. "How did…?"

"Yeah, they do that," said Dante in an amused voice. "So, ready for your grade?" Harry turned around to look at him. After a moment, he nodded. "There's a lot more that I think you're capable of, but you did okay. I'd say about…an A. Not a solid one, but still an 'A'."

Harry frowned. "Only an 'A'?"

"…Oh, right, you guys and your weird grading scale. An 'E', then."

"Not so bad, then; I'll take it." Harry looked at the ice cubes, finally deciding to examine them closely. As he did, he gasped. "Are those…?!"

"Well, I can't let you have all the fun! Gotta give everyone else a chance to test their skills." He patted the nearest cube, which had one of the flying insect demons frozen at its center. "They're not exactly durable, but they're about as low on the totem pole as we're gonna get in terms of raw power, so they're the best I can do for a beginner's lesson."

"And how are you going to get them out of here?" asked Harry pointedly.

"I'm glad you asked!" replied the man cheerfully. "'Cause that's the next part of today's training."

Harry groaned.

In all fairness, it didn't take very long at all to get them out of the Chamber of Secrets. It almost seemed to Harry that the tunnel leading in and out of the bathroom enlarged itself to be as wide as necessary to accommodate any travelers; judging from what he'd seen of the magical world so far, that probably wasn't far off. Still, while the tunnel may have been magically altered to expand itself…

The two of them were contorting themselves in awkward ways to try and get around the demon-containing ice blocks. "You couldn't have made them smaller?" muttered Harry.

"Not a lotta options in that dank place. Unless you wanted me to carry 'em around and have 'em vomit evil maggots everywhere."

Harry rolled his eyes, and then suddenly felt his stomach lurch. Those maggot things…they were ON me… He felt the bile rise in his throat. They…they were…! He threw open one of the stall doors and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet beyond.

Dante sighed. "…Well, at least you held it together longer than most."

After collecting himself, Harry washed up. Okay, calm down. Don't think about it now; you can talk about it later to Ron and Hermione. He dried his hands, turning back to Dante. "So, what are you going to do with all those?" he asked, motioning to the trapped demons.

"Well, I'd like to use 'em for practice for you guys at some point, but they're not much use for training like this. Don't suppose you know where I could find a buncha cages, would you?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it. Come to think of it…he did know of a place that might be of use, didn't he? "Well, actually…"

Dante paced back and forth in front of the wall Harry had told him about, concentrating. I need a place with something that I can use as a cage…I need a place with something that I can use as a cage…

After his third round, he peeked through a cracked eyelid. A highly-polished door had appeared in the previously blank wall. Dante frowned. A door suddenly appearing or disappearing in a stone wall somewhere in a castle…this is getting suspiciously familiar… Hesitantly, he grasped the handle and opened it.

The room beyond was massive, far bigger than he had been expecting. It was the size of a large cathedral, which did nothing to alleviate his suspicions. Still, there were no twisting and undulating columns in this place, so that was a step in the right direction, at least. Also distinguishing this place was the sheer amount of stuff in it; towers of books and strange broken or marred substances, cracked glass objects, chipped stone busts…it was actually kind of impressive. "Well, guess I'd better get to finding one of those-"

ba-ba-bump

Dante froze. For the second time that day, he felt the telltale pulse of evil power. Dammit…the sewers are one thing, but there're kids up here! He drew his trusty pistols, walking slowly towards the pulse he sensed. It was just ahead and to the left. He took a short breath, and then jumped around the corner, guns raised.

…There was no demon. There weren't even any books that might have been demons in disguise. Just a scattering of what looked like old bones and a tarnished tiara. The Devil Hunter frowned. …Huh. Weird. He shrugged, holstering his pistols and turning around. Now where are those cages? He walked away from the wreckage.

ba-ba-bump

He stopped again. "The hell?" He once more drew his pistols, turning around to scan the area. The pulse was coming from the same place; the battered old tiara in the pile of dusty bones. Rolling his eyes, he holstered Ivory and knelt down to look closer at the tiara. It had the look of a treasure that had been magnificent in its day, but years of neglect and dust had made its metal dull and its gemstones worn. "Don't tell me you're the demon," he muttered. He picked up the headwear with his free hand, standing up. "Not really my style, and none of the women I know go for jewelry." He turned it over in his hands, seeing if there was some sort of writing or engraving that would give him an idea of the object's history. Then he frowned. …What the hell am I doing staring at a dusty old crown like this? He reared his arm back. Let's see if I can land you on that stone head at the other end.

BUMP

This time there was no question; the pulse came from the crown itself. He let go of it and spun around within milliseconds, putting a bullet into it with Ebony. To his surprise, however, the bullet actually bounced off of the small object, shattering a crystal ball resting on a cabinet some distance away. The tiara clattered to the ground, looking none the worse for wear. "Tougher than you look, huh?" He stuffed Ebony into its holster, pulling Rebellion out of his "hammerspace". I've got more than one trick up my sleeve. He leapt high into the air, crashing back down with the Devil Arm extended, slamming it into the small crown.

Dante hadn't really expected that to work. So it came as somewhat of a shock when the sword cleaved the little crown in two. It was even more of a shock when there was something like an echo of a scream, and the evil energy faded as if a demon had been killed. The man in red stowed Rebellion away, picking up the fragments of the object he had just destroyed. There was no pulse from the object now, and a small substance almost like blood leaked from the edges of the cut for a moment before it seemed to evaporate.

Dante scowled. The cages could wait. For now, he needed some answers. And he knew just who to ask…

"Enter."

Dante strode into the Headmaster's office. "Hey, Al. We gotta talk."

"Certainly, Professor." He waved his wand, and the door shut behind the red-coated man. The Devil Hunter paid it no mind, however, as he walked briskly to the Headmaster's desk. "Please, have a seat." He barely broke stride, sitting down in the chair an instant after it had appeared. "May I offer you a sherbet lemon?"

"I've got a present for you, first." He pulled the remains of the crown out of his pocket, setting them on the desk and watching the Headmaster closely. The man's eyes looked at him curiously before moving to look at the pieces. Once he saw them, he froze so thoroughly he did not seem to be breathing.

"Where…did you find this?" he all but whispered.

"Hidden under a pile of junk in a closet. What is it?"

Dumbledore seemed to come awake. His breathing resumed, and he sat in his own chair, picking up the two halves of the crown gingerly. "This is…or rather, was the Diadem of Ravenclaw. It was said to give its wearer insight beyond mortal measure along with clarity of thought in any situation."

"Uh huh. Any clue on why it was drenched in evil energy, or why it made a scream when I had to smash it?"

If Dante had thought Dumbledore was shocked earlier, it was nothing compared to the way he reacted to that statement. He stood up abruptly, looked between Dante and the pieces several times, and then began speaking several strange words while waving his wand over the broken object. After some time, Dumbledore slumped back in his chair, looking exhausted but enlightened. "Ah, of course. So that's what you were after…you managed to outmaneuver me after all…"

"So…a 'yes', then?"

Albus looked at him before casting a stern glance to his office door. He then stared at Dante appraisingly. "…Very well. I suppose there's no hiding it from you. However, what I am about to tell you does not leave this room. Do you understand?" The Devil Hunter nodded. Albus stood up, and walked to where Fawkes was perched. "In your line of work," he began, "I trust you've come across certain individuals who seek immortality?"

Dante gave a hollow laugh. "Yeah. I've seen a few, and they all end the same way; messy."

"Indeed." He gave the phoenix a gentle pat on its head. "Voldemort is one such person. Like others before him, he fears death, and seeks to cheat it any way that he can."

"Did he manage to get a Gold Orb or something?"

"I am unaware of what that is," Dumbledore said.

"Really? With all the stuff you know about alchemy?" He shrugged. "Okay, so it's not that. What, is he trying to turn himself into a demon or something?" He watched the Headmaster closely for his reaction.

"In theory, no, but in practice what he has done is nearly indistinguishable." He turned to look directly at Dante. "With a normal human, once they die, their soul moves on. To where, I cannot say, but it departs the body for its next destination in one piece. With certain Dark magic, however, there is a method to anchor the soul to this plane and prevent it from moving on, keeping the person in this world when they would normally die. The soul is split, and a piece of it hidden away, to ensure that it returns to the living world."

"That sounds like a stupidly bad idea."

"I believe you have the right measure of it. Whatever awaits us beyond this life, I doubt it is to our advantage to confront it with a soul in fragments. And yet people like Voldemort fear that great unknown so much that they resort to this technique."

Dante frowned, grabbing a sherbet lemon while he thought. "But it can't be that common, or he'd have competition." He popped the candy into his mouth.

"The spell that allows it is hideous in both nature and complexity. It also requires, as an essential component, an act of murder."

Dante bit down on the candy so hard that it shattered. "So he can just do that any time he kills someone? How many of these things does he have?!"

"Not any time; the technique is only ever meant to be used once. The act of a soul tearing into two pieces takes such a toll on it that most of this technique's practitioners ended up killing themselves outright."

The man in red stood up slowly. "…Only 'meant' to be used once, huh?"

The Headmaster gave an acknowledging nod. "Yes, you've caught on to it. I believe that Voldemort has gone further than his predecessors in his desperation to avoid death. Another of his…shall we say, 'containers'…caused quite a bit of trouble three years ago." He strode over to his desk again, and opened one of the drawers, removing what looked like a tattered diary that had been stabbed with something.

"Tell whoever did that one that I owe 'em a drink."

"Tell him yourself; you're training him," Dumbledore replied, amusement entering his voice once more.

"Heh. Should've known it'd be Harry." His proud smile only lasted for a few moments before he returned to his line of questioning. "So, he trashed one and I trashed another. How many are there?"

Albus sighed, returning the diary to his desk. "I don't know. I can guess, certainly, and I have been searching for that very answer ever since Harry destroyed the first one. I have reason to believe there is at least one more, given certain clues."

"Hmm." He tapped his foot, thinking. "He probably doesn't want his soul in four pieces, given that it symbolizes death in some cultures, but I've got no clue otherwise. What about the containers themselves? Do they have to be inanimate?"

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment. "…Evidence suggests otherwise," he said carefully.

"No need to beat around the neon green bush. I get it now." He grinned. "So it's that snake that Tommy's got."

"That would be my guess as well." To the Devil Hunter's confusion, he almost seemed…relieved? "While it would be inadvisable, for obvious reasons, it would seem that she is indeed a carrier of a fragment of soul."

"Yeah. Who wants their soul piece just wandering off to eat rabbits or something? Hmm…do these pieces have a bond of some kind? Actually, they'd have to, if they're used to anchor the soul in the Human World."

"I believe they do, yes."

"Wait…does that mean that Tom already knows he's down two soul holders?"

"Usually, that would be expected, if there was only one. But my sources tell me he was completely unaware when the diary was destroyed. I am told that when he found out, he was quite…upset."

"I'll bet." He looked at Dumbledore. "You've probably got a lot to go over, but let me know if you figure out where any more are, would you?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. I'll tell Harry to keep an eye out for-"

"No."

Dante stared at the man. "…Come again?"

"I meant what I said earlier. What we have just discussed cannot leave this room." It was very difficult to read him now, but even so, Dante could sense the fear in the other man's words.

"Okay, fine. You tell him."

"I…cannot."

"What? Why?! We're talking about the maniac out to kill Harry, here! Knowing that he's got backups is kind of important!"

Dumbledore was resolute, even at Dante's rising tone. "I have my reasons."

"What, because he's a teenager? He's been through more than anyone his age has a right to be; hell, he almost makes my teenage years look normal! Do you have any idea how hard that is?"

"It is not his age that prevents me from telling him about that."

"What, then?" he demanded, throwing his arms outward. He turned around in exasperation. "What reason could you possibly have for not telling him-" He cut off instantly as a realization hit him; the only thing that could explain every piece of the puzzle. "…He's one too, isn't he?"

There was a long moment of silence. Dumbledore sighed, looking down at his desk. "…You are more perceptive than you are credited for," he muttered, smiling despite himself.

Dante walked back to his chair, flopping down into it. He slumped into the cushions, feeling as if a sudden emptiness had overtaken him. "How?" he managed to grind out.

"You are familiar with the story of his survival as a baby, correct?" Dante nodded. "It is my belief that in his attempt to kill Harry, Voldemort might have created an unintentional repository for a soul fragment within Harry. More specifically, his scar."

"He carved his soul into even smaller pieces by accident?"

Albus nodded. "Having already hacked it to pieces by using his attempt at immortality, I believe his soul was becoming unstable; the act of committing murder of a child with the intention of splitting his soul seems to have been enough to shear off a piece of his soul, which latched onto the closest thing at hand. Often times, Harry has spoken of having visions of events happening far away; during these times, he speaks of looking through the eyes of Voldemort himself. It stands to reason that if Voldemort would discover the connection, he may be able to do the reverse."

The man in red held his chin in his hands. "So the visions and their 'connection' is because of that?"

"It seems so."

"And you can't tell him anything because of that?" Dumbledore nodded. "…Look. I get where you're coming from. I do. But you can't just tell him nothing. As dangerous as it is for Tom to know what you're planning, if Harry's got no clue either, he's gonna feel like you're hangin' him out to dry!"

"Then what would you suggest?" There was a distraught tone to his voice; clearly this had been bothering him for some time. "On the one hand, he needs to be prepared. On the other, everything I tell him could be turned against him and me by Voldemort."

Dante reached a hand out, putting it on Dumbledore's shoulder. "Al, you don't have to do this alone. I'm here, remember?" He grinned. "And I've got enough excuse to pretend I've come across something in my job. I won't tell him everything all at once, but it might be a good idea to let him in on a little bit all the time. That way he doesn't go off half-cocked at the first sign of trouble."

"…I will take it under advisement."

"Good enough." His grin faded, and he stared at the Headmaster. "But there's one non-negotiable in this discussion. I am not letting Harry die."

"I do not wish for him to die either. If only it were that simple…"

"It IS that simple. You find a way to pull that bit of soul out of him without killing him."

"I've been trying." A haunted look came over him. "For every year since I've known, I've been searching for a way. And make no mistake, I am by no means an unintelligent man. But time and again I have been frustrated by failure. There is a way to remove the fragment that I've come upon recently; however, it requires a complicated set of circumstances that allow him to return from death."

"So he still dies, with the only difference being that it doesn't stick. No offense, but that's a terrible plan."

"It is," he sighed. "But it is the best I've been able to come up with. I am still searching for another alternative, but I've come across nothing so far."

"Then I'll find something," Dante declared.

The Headmaster smiled sadly, as if not daring to believe himself. "I hope that you do, Professor. I sincerely hope that you do."

By the time Dante got back to his room late that evening, Mar was there waiting for him. "Okay, so I've got good news. This world had its divergence at a point I can track, so with a few more clues, we can figure out how to fix what's going on. At least you haven't had a demon attack to worry about yet." He smiled at Dante, who stared back at him with an eyebrow raised. Slowly, the smile slipped from his face. "…You have, haven't you? Where was it?"

"Wouldn't you know? You and yours make a habit outta throwing them at us."

Mar shook his head. "No, and especially not this time. The windbag is off on another world "inspiring" people where he goes, the wet blanket is chasing some ten-legged creature across the M51 galaxy, and the blockhead refuses to move an inch from the world they've set up shop in. So we're too busy to be tossing enemies at you."

Dante snorted. "Oh, yeah? Then what about cursed artifacts?" He hurled one of the pieces of Ravenclaw's Diadem at the sorcerer's head, where it bounced off. Caught by surprise, the other man hurried to catch it, and after a bit of jostling, managed to get a firm grip on the broken crown. "Funny how something like that just shows up."

Mar stared at the crown, utterly amazed. "This…this is the Diadem of-!" He looked up at Dante, and for the briefest of moments there was a look of sheer delight on his face…before it was immediately replaced with a look of indifference. "So you managed to cut a tiara in half. Good for you."

"You knew about this, didn't you?" asked Dante, staring warily at the man.

"What makes you say that?"

"You knew the name, first of all. And second, I never said how I did it."

Mar wasn't looking at him now. "Well, it's not something that could have been done with sheer physical force, so I assumed you must have used a Devil Arm, given that they tend to defy laws of physics that they don't like."

"How do you know about Devil Arms when you're not even from our world?" It was a guess, but he wanted to see how the man reacted.

"I know lots of things." Mar folded his arms, turning his back on Dante.

The Devil Hunter rolled his eyes. "If you say so. I don't suppose you know where the rest of the soul containers for Oldy Voldy are, do you?"

"…I know lots of things," Mar responded, but almost with a note of…disappointment?

"And if you did, you wouldn't tell me, right?" The sorcerer remained silent, but his shoulders slumped slightly. "Just who are you?" Silence. "Whatever. If that's all you got, I could use some sleep."

"Actually, there is one more thing, thanks for reminding me!" Mar turned around. "There's been a question I've been meaning to ask you for some time, now."

"I'm not gonna be your errand boy, so you can forget that right away."

Mar smiled. "No, no, not a favor. Just a question out of curiosity." He watched Dante curiously. "Do you believe in angels?"

"…No, really, what's the question?"

"That is the question. Do you believe in angels?"

Dante snorted. "I would think so; they've tried to kill me enough already."

"No, no, not the Fallen," said Mar, shaking his head. "I don't mean a demon pretending to be an angel. And I'm not talking about what happened on Fortuna, either; that's a human taking a demonic form that mimics an angel. Do you believe in angels?"

The man in red stared at the cloaked man. "...You're asking if I believe in beings that would be the opposite of demons, right? Supernatural creatures that would be good, protective of humans, healing instead of killing, that kind of thing?"

Mar shrugged. "If that's how you see them, sure. Do you?"

"So, hypothetically, they would be watching over people, right?" asked the Devil Hunter, his face stern. Mar nodded. "Then where were they when that old fart on Fortuna decided to open the gates to Demonville? Or when Mundus tried to claw his way outta the Underworld? Or when my brother and the bald maniac wanted to take dear old Dad's power?" His expression was hard now, and he all but hissed the final question through his teeth. "Where were they when my mother was killed?" There was silence hanging in the air for nearly a full minute following that question.

Finally, Mar spoke. "…So, do you?"

The Son of Sparda scoffed. "What, do I gotta spell it out for you?"

"It would help, yes."

"Fine, then." He glared at the sorcerer. "I. Don't. Believe in angels."

Mar gave him a sad smile. "…I see. Well, that's a shame, Dante."

The Defense professor shook his head, turning his back on the cloaked man.

"…Because we believe in you."

Dante whirled around, but the other man was not there. Instead, there was a small object on the floor where he had stood; a single white feather. He snorted. "Cute. But I'm still not buying it." He flopped onto his bed, hoping that he wouldn't have any more odd dreams.

He would be sorely disappointed come the following morning.

CHAPTER END

...Yeah, this one took a lot longer than I wanted, especially since I wanted to have it out no later than Halloween. I had the greater part of it done, but it just didn't feel complete, and every time I got ready to continue it, personal drama would crop up. ...But you're not here for that, which is why I've saved this bit until the end. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, at least, and I hope to get back to a better schedule soon. Take care!