CHAPTER 5:

DANI

"Ooh, who's this man-thing?" chirped the revenant wearing Daniela's face in Romanian, as she peered at him curiously, like a cat eyeing a particularly amusing mouse.

"…Man-thing?" Harry asked, looking at Alcina, who had the good grace to wince.

But she rallied, before saying, "Daniela, this is someone you used to know, before you…became my daughter."

Daniela frowned. "But that was decades ago."

"Yes. This is someone who was Mother Miranda's nephew, only…they had a falling out. It goes without saying that you should not tell her," Alcina said.

For a brief moment, Daniela looked to Alcina, who nodded. Daniela's expression became serious and solemn. "…Yes, Mother. What about my sisters?"

"I will merely tell them that the Duke brought someone to see us. If they pester you, come to me. His name was Henric Stan. He died trying to avenge you when you…died.."

Daniela blinked, before her expression became pensive. For a moment, Harry hoped beyond all hope that she might remember. But she said, "Nope. Not ringing any bells. No clang-clang-clang or ding-dong, or…" She began singing out the notes to Big Ben ringing out, before something occurred to her. "Oh, wait, Uncle Karl mentioned him a few times. Called him the 'nicest asshole he'd ever known'. His words, not mine, Mother. Also said something about not believing he was related to Mother Miranda."

Alcina nodded. "That being said, remember what I told you about minding your language, Daniela. I will let it slide for now, given that you are quoting that fool Heisenberg, but still…"

"Hmm…" Daniela hummed, before trotting up to Harry, sniffed him, and then licking him, and then giggling. Harry wondered, even hoped, that something of her original self was coming back, but there was still no recognition in her golden eyes. "Nice taste. Quite a dish to look at too. I could gobble you up."

"Daniela, please show a little more decorum towards our guest."

"Oops. Sorry." As Daniela withdrew with a giggle, briefly dissolving into her swarm as she did so, Harry noticed Alcina shooting the redhead a fond if exasperated smile. It was uncanny, she did act somewhat as she did before he died…if she was a vampire. And somewhat more insane. Daniela didn't quite respect personal boundaries at times in life either.

His gaze lingered on Daniela a little too long, and the redhead noticed. "Oh? Do I have something on my face? It's the blood, isn't it? It's unconventional as cosmetics go, but with something of a long tradition."

He stared at her dumbfounded. That…sounded so much like something Daniela would say if she got so macabre as to allow blood to remain smeared across her lips. So much so, it hurt.

But before Harry could make any further comment, she seemed to switch gears. Daniela, the one he remembered, was a little scatterbrained, switching from topic to topic quite swiftly, but she now seemed to change gears even more abruptly. Now she was solemn. "…You knew us, Mother said. You went to avenge our deaths. I…that was so brave…and yet, I don't remember you. I don't remember a thing when we were human."

"You know you were human?"

She snorted. "Well, yeah. Mother sat us down once and told us how we came to be. It was a bit weird, but…well, sometimes, I see flashes of…well, could be memories from long ago. I remember the piano, playing it, and I remembered this room. But my parents, whether I had siblings before Bela and Cassandra…I don't remember anything. Except…breaking glass used to set me off."

"The Duke told me. You…injured a maid."

"Yeah. I did," she said, and he noticed she seemed contrite. "For some reason, when I heard the noise, I remembered something, a bottle being broken and ground into my face by a man-thing. Before I knew it, I was slashing up the maid's face. Such a pretty thing she was, and yet…when I saw her, bleeding and crying…I wanted to be sick. Oh, I play with prey when they come here, but…I destroyed her cute face, all because something about that glass breaking made me lash out."

Harry shuddered, not only at her confession, but the reminder of what Grindlewald's thug did to her. Grindlewald's thugs, while having their way with the girls, had also injured them. Daniela had managed to get a hold of a knife and managed to kill one of them, but she was attacked from behind with a bottle of beer, which her assailant then used to slash her face up. Harry remembered seeing her face afterwards, a gory ruin, her last breaths rattling from something that wasn't quite a face anymore, and…

He shook his head to rid himself of that memory. He'd learned the details from one of the thugs he had interrogated. He had not been gentle.

Oddly enough, Daniela seemed to regret that incident with the maid. Probably not the rest of the people she fed on, but that was some small proof that some humanity remained within her. Maybe he could reach out, get her to change back to the woman she was…the woman she still was, to some degree.

She peered into his eyes with her golden ones. "…I wish I could remember you. You seem nice. But your eyes…they seem so sad when they look at me."

"Because you don't remember me, Dani," Harry said quietly. "Because you've changed quite a bit."

She blinked, seemingly confused, before she said, "Well…you died trying to avenge us? That's so sweet. Did you make it painful for them?"

"Quicker than I would have liked. But they felt my wrath all the same."

"Good." Then, she changed from her solemn mood to a more cheerful one. "Hey, maybe you can tell Uncle Karl? He can show you his cool toys and stuff!"

"…Maybe later."

The Duke cleared his throat. "Harry…perhaps you might wish to show her who you are in this life?" he asked in English.

Harry sighed, considering it for a moment, before allowing his appearance to change. Daniela's eyes widened in surprise, and then a smile of delight stretched almost literally from ear to ear. "It's Harry Potter, isn't it? You're the Boy Who Lived? How did that happen?"

"I'm currently trying to figure out how that happened, Daniela," the Duke said. "I am using my contacts to piece it together."

As he changed back, Daniela returned her gaze to him. "So…you're Harry Potter in this life, huh? That's interesting."

"In the cursed sense," Harry snarked. On her puzzled look, he clarified, "I mean, like the old saying, May you live in interesting times."

"Oh. Well, that's a shame. I like this form, though. And you call me Dani. That's cute." She looked at Harry with a sudden sadness in her eyes. "…You must've liked me, I see it in your eyes. And yet, I don't know you. I…I don't know you."

And the plaintive tone in her voice got through to him. Because even if she had become a monster, there was still parts of the woman he had loved in her. And he didn't know what to do to bring her back to the forefront…


After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Alcina led Daniela out. Harry wept gently, while the Duke looked on solemnly. "A shame. I had hoped her presence would potentially disinter her memories, at least in part. I'm sorry for putting you through this, and for no gain at all."

"No…I should have known better than to get my hopes up," Harry said. "It was only a remote possibility, and if nothing else, I needed to see what…what she…she turned into."

"But as you clearly saw, there are echoes of the woman she was inside her. I still believe that all we need to do is disinter her memories. I believe a gentle approach is needed. Expose her to you, re-establish something of the relationship you once had. And she does like you already. True, she is well-disposed towards almost everyone, even her…prey."

"…But…how can I…how can I still be friends with her?"

"I know you would be, even after this. You care for her too much, Harry," the Duke said.

Alcina chose that moment to re-enter the room. "Daniela's heading back to the library," she said, having switched back to English. "I'm sorry she did not remember you, Harry, I truly am. My daughters are the sole light of my life, to tell the truth. Even the time I spent with the Pallboys…palls by comparison, if you'll forgive the pun."

"…God, I remember that. I wish I still had my records of your songs. Then again, there's not that many gramophones these days, or the like."

Alcina gave him a sad smile. "Duke, I presume you can obtain a…what do they call those things you play music on these days? Compact discs?"

"But of course," the Duke said. When Harry looked at him for clarification, he said, "The Pallboys have enjoyed a limited release on CDs recently, a bit of a posthumous career renaissance. I believe you can even find them in HMV back in Britain if you wanted."

"It'd be weird if they learned you were still alive," Harry snarked. "They'd probably want you to do signings, and let's face it, you'd be a mite…conspicuous."

"Yes, I daresay I would be," Alcina said with a wry smile, which fell from her features. "And I am not fond of attention these days. Your demise, amongst other things, made me into something of a recluse. I will admit, I dwell somewhat in the past. When you died, the last man I could have said to have loved, albeit like a brother or a nephew, had died with you. You know what happened to my last lover, thanks to those gangs in the US. My daughters are all I have left now. I am given mere scraps of hollow affection by Mother Miranda, and she has too much power to confront openly. I have given her my loyalty, and for what? You and I both know, even if it pains me to admit it, that if sacrificing myself and my daughters led to her regaining Eva, then she would do so. It took me too long to realise that. Perhaps I even deserve such a fate now."

Harry gave her a sad smile of his own. "Alcina…I am angry with you for falling so far, but even then…I'm still happy to see you and Dani again. I won't say that's more important than the lives you've taken, nor can I forgive you for them, but…I know you are still my friend, and that matters to me. It can't be the same as it was before, but…I trust you more than I can trust my aunt."

Alcina nodded. "…Mulţumesc, Harry. And for you, I will try to do better." She turned her attention to the Duke. "Perhaps he should meet with Heisenberg. As much as the man offends me, there are things we agree with, and perhaps his resolve may be bolstered by learning what has happened."

"Perhaps," the Duke conceded. "What do you say, Harry?"

Harry, after a moment, decided to go with it. As much as Heisenberg wasn't quite his friend, it would do well to speak with another potential ally against Miranda. The enemy of his enemy was his friend, and Miranda had made it clear that she was his enemy.

And in any case, he wanted to get away from this castle for now. The memories it signified were painful, and he needed time to come to terms with what had happened to Alcina…and especially to Daniela. He didn't want to remain here for much longer, not with the ghosts of the past lingering…


There were many smells Daniela Dimitrescu loved. The hot coppery tang of blood as it gushed from a still-living being. The smell of her mother's favourite perfume, derived in part from the Sanguis Virginis wine by her mother herself. The smell of flowers in the open air, when the weather was warm enough for the Dimitrescu sisters to wander outside the castle with impunity.

But perhaps her favourite smell was the smell of books.

There was nothing quite like it, in her own opinion. Old books had a distinctive smell, like the weight of decades past weighing down on your nostrils. It was the smell nostalgia would make if such an abstract concept even had a smell.

It was a comforting smell. Daniela knew from one of these books that the term nostalgia had its roots as a supposedly serious medical condition afflicting Swiss mercenaries in the 1600s. It was used in that context to describe the mercenaries' homesickness, though some idiots thought that the homesickness was caused by brain damage from the clanging of cow bells back in Switzerland. But Daniela did feel that the smell of books invoked a kind of wistfulness in her, an echo of the girl she once was, for she, like her sisters, were once human, even if they had discarded their humanity long ago.

It was why she often kept to the library during the day, when her mother didn't require her, or there wasn't any prey to toy with. She used old passageways and things to avoid the cold outside, reforming only within the library itself, startling a maid who had brought her a glass of the same wine her mother did. Daniela didn't drink alcohol as often as her mother did, but at times, she felt like it. "Oh, you startled me, Lady Daniela!" the maid said.

"That's fine. At least it wasn't the other way around," Daniela said, showing her a smile with just a few too many teeth. They were fun to scare a little. Not too much, that tended to go badly. "Thanks for bringing me my drink. You may go, unless you have anything further to say or do here?"

"No, Lady Daniela. Though…may I ask why you were absent just now?"

"Oh, you may ask, but I won't answer," Daniela said, hiding her annoyance behind a coy tone. "Go on, shoo. Shoo."

The maid did so in as much of a hurry as she could and still show the required deportment Alcina Dimitrescu demanded of her servants, leading Daniela to flop into the seat by which the maid left the glass of wine. Her previously cheerful demeanour slipped off like the mask it was, and she picked up the glass and drained it in a single gulp, not even savouring the lovely taste of the wine as it slid down her gullet. She was almost tempted to throw the glass against the floor or a nearby wall or bookcase with a scream, but her mother always chided her for wasting expensive glassware when she did so.

Daniela didn't remember Henric Stan. Oh, she had heard about him, almost exclusively through her Uncle Karl, but she didn't remember him. And yet, she knew that he remembered her. That longing in his eyes was hard to mistake.

Daniela scoffed to herself. Oh, she was detached from reality, she loved to pretend that her victims were playing a game with her, that they flocked to her out of adoration and attraction, like a moth to the flame. But would someone love what she had become? She doubted it. Only the likes of her mother could love what she had become.

Normally, she wouldn't care. And yet, to her mother, to the Duke, to this Henric wearing the body of the Boy Who Lived, it mattered. And that awoke something in her, something disturbing.

So she reached for a book, and began reading, to escape from the turmoil that was building up inside her. She sat in silence, trying to enjoy herself, to settle the disturbance in her soul. But she couldn't. Not at all…

CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Harry's spent some quality time with Daniela, showing off the latter's kookiness and her surprising humanity.

Now, keep in mind, I haven't retconned all of Daniela's atrocities, but I wanted to change why she attacked the maid, which is mentioned in one of the game's files. It triggered off some unconscious PTSD from her demise. Daniela's still fairly sadistic and murderous, but she is also debatably the most 'innocent' of the sisters, given her delusions.

Don't worry, she'll regain her memories eventually.

Review-answering time! WearyCurmudgeon: I really should have considered the Death Eaters in Azkaban as a food source, but the trick is getting to them. I doubt that the Duke has a backdoor into Azkaban.

Harry/Henric would turn Snape into Dimitrescu-dinner if he learned what Snape was responsible for. Even the canon of Snape divulging the Prophecy to Voldemort would be enough. But if he learned what he was responsible for in this fic…yeah. As for Grindlewald, Harry/Henric taking revenge is lower down the to-do list for now. But if he had time to head to Nurmengard…well, revenge is a dish best served cold, isn't it?

BBryant: Well, it's one bad quality amongst many.

edboy4926: The comic book character, obviously. Harry is aware of the X-Men comics.

BlaszczeM: Trust me, motives will make sense.

LoamyCoffee: I actually felt that a lot of the characters in Resident Evil: Village had a lot of potential for further development. I wanted to show more of Alcina's human side. There's no denying her crimes, and Harry/Henric is somewhat hypocritical in helping her in spite of them, but he acknowledges this, and he knows she can be better.

No numbered annotations this time.