Before Dana stood the revolutionary who had once nearly toppled the Wizarding World: the infamous dark witch, once rumored to be Dumbledore's lover (though that line had been crossed out—Vida felt it wasn't sufficient and had blacked it out entirely), the leader of the Witchcraft Party, the saintly symbol of rebellion, and Gellert Grindelwald's former secretary—Vida Rosier.
"Dantes? A man who doesn't even speak French bears a French surname? Let me guess—you took the name 'Edmond Dantès' from Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo, didn't you?"
"So… you're an avenger?"
—As expected of the Black Rose of France, Grindelwald's right hand.
Dana didn't deny it. "That's right. I am an avenger."
"I'm sorry, young man. I'm not interested in your revenge. And though I don't know how you found me, I'm afraid I can't help you."
So how had Dana found her?
Mr. Borgin had purchased the information from the Rosier family in Britain.
"Madam, while my aim is revenge, I believe what I intend to do may still interest you."
Vida Rosier looked at Dana again, but didn't move. She held her poised composure, her gaze calm.
"Speak."
"I want to overthrow the British Ministry of Magic."
Vida laughed softly. "Ah, the idealism of youth."
"But I'm not interested in toppling a Ministry either," she added, "and besides—what can an old woman on the verge of death offer you?"
Dana had expected Vida Rosier to refuse. Calmly, he asked, "Madam, may I ask—why do you think Mr. Grindelwald failed?"
She paused. That question had caught her off guard.
Why did Gellert fail?
Was it Newt Scamander? Albus Dumbledore? Nicolas Flamel?
No… that wasn't the real reason.
Setting down the book in her hands, Vida answered, "Then tell me, what do you think?"
Dana smiled. He knew he had her attention now.
"It was about class."
"Class?" she echoed, raising a brow.
"Yes. The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy split the magical and Muggle worlds apart. So let me ask you, Madam: who benefits most from that division? And who benefits least?"
Vida didn't answer immediately. She thought it over and then shook her head.
Dana continued, "Since the Statute's establishment, the magical world has formed its own isolated order. Within that order, the ones who benefit the most are the pure-blood families at the top of the hierarchy. If I may say so frankly—that includes your own family, Madam."
"But if the Statute were abolished, the magical world would be flooded with Muggle influence. The pure-bloods would no longer stand so proudly above others. Because right now, they exploit the lower classes—Muggle-borns, half-bloods, immigrant wizards, and so on. But once the Statute is gone, those groups can blend into the Muggle world. They could thrive—with the help of magic."
"And then? Who would still serve the pure-bloods?"
Dana paused, letting the old woman absorb his words.
"Grindelwald wanted to abolish the Statute, but who were the people he rallied? I wasn't there in that era, so I won't claim he didn't try to recruit Muggle-borns or half-bloods—but Madam Rosier, you know better than anyone that the core members around him came from the old pure-blood families."
"So ask yourself: maybe you truly followed Grindelwald—but did your families? Would they? Could the very people who benefit from the current system ever become its revolutionaries?"
"Even without Dumbledore. Even without Newt Scamander. You still would've failed. Because in the end, you'd have been stopped by your own kin."
"That's why only a revolution led by the lower classes—by those excluded from power—can truly bring down the Statute and fulfill Grindelwald's dream."
"Whether we choose to live peacefully with Muggles or rule over them can be debated afterward. But first, we have to bring down the very structure of the Wizarding World."
Vida looked at Dana with a transformed expression.
"So, Mr. Dantes… you hope to unite the lower-class wizards of Britain to overthrow the Ministry?"
"Exactly," Dana said. "If I succeed, we'll replicate the model elsewhere in Europe."
"In that world, Mr. Grindelwald wouldn't have to imprison himself in Nurmengard. A revolutionary like him should not waste away in silence."
Self-imprisonment.
Vida silently noted that phrase.
She hadn't expected this young man to know so much about Grindelwald.
"What do you want from me, Mr. Dantes?"
"I need the identity of a French wizard born in China. If possible, an ancient noble title would help."
Vida stood slowly. Her aged face smoothed into youthful vitality. Her gray hair darkened into glossy black. Her lips, once pale, turned red with color.
Raising her chin slightly, she said, "As you wish. For the Greater Good."
She turned to walk inside, but paused midway, flashing him a smile.
"However, Mr. Dantes—if you plan to impersonate a French wizard, you might want to learn some French first."
During the last few days of the Christmas holiday, Harry began seeing Dana more frequently—far more than before.
And unlike in the past, Dana was always carrying a book.
"Elementary French."
Amazing!
Dana had already taught himself spells, alchemy, Herbology, Potions, Astronomy, and even Ancient Runes.
Now he was teaching himself French too?
Harry glanced at him, overwhelmed.
He suddenly felt Hermione wasn't as scary after all—at least she didn't put this much pressure on people.
Looking at Dana now, Harry felt guilty for having done absolutely nothing all day.
Luckily, the holidays finally ended. The return of Hogwarts students brought Harry some relief—though with it, some annoying people came back too.
At dinner, Draco Malfoy was being especially loud. Loud enough that the entire Great Hall could hear him.
"Do you all know? A big shot from the East has arrived in our British Wizarding World!"
"That gentleman's wealth is immeasurable! As soon as he arrived, he bought up a massive amount of property!"
"How do I know? My father worked with him! They closed a deal worth nearly thirty million Galleons!"
"Our family alone made five million off that!"
"Impressive, right? Unlike some disgraceful pure-blood families whose vaults probably don't even have a hundred Galleons!"
"That gentleman was born in China but has French ancestry. He's inherited a noble title in France—either a Count or a Viscount. I think it was a Count."
"His ancestral fief was in Bordeaux. Of course, Muggles took it back long ago, but still—it's an ancient title! That means something!"
"What does he want in Britain? That's a silly question!"
"With a life so good here, of course he wants to stay! Maybe even find a wife!"
"His name? Listen carefully!"
"That noble Count is called Dak de Dentis!"
"A friend of the Malfoy family!"
"You'll all get to know him soon enough!"
From a nearby table, Dana scratched his chin as he listened to Draco's pompous declarations.
Then he turned and gave Malfoy a strange look.
But little Malfoy didn't get it. He scowled and snapped, "What are you staring at?"
"Someone as important as him isn't someone a criminal from Azkaban like you could ever know!"
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