Continuous Losses

The first Quidditch match of the year was in full swing, and the Slytherin team was dominating the field. Thanks to Lucius Malfoy's generous donation, every Slytherin player was mounted on a Nimbus 2001, the fastest and most advanced broom in the world. The score stood at 120-30 in Slytherin's favor, and the gap was only widening.

From the stands, the Slytherin students cheered loudly, their voices drowning out the Gryffindor supporters' cries of unfairness. Lucius Malfoy sat beside Snape, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched his son's team dominate the match.

"A generous investment, Lucius," Snape remarked, his tone dry but amused.

"Indeed," Lucius replied, his eyes fixed on Draco. "It's always rewarding to see one's support bear fruit."

On the field, Draco was in his element. As the Slytherin Seeker, he was tasked with catching the Golden Snitch, but he couldn't resist taunting Harry Potter along the way.

"Having trouble keeping up, Potter?" Draco called out, his voice dripping with mockery.

Harry ignored him, his eyes scanning the field for the Snitch. Finally, he spotted it—a glint of gold in the distance. Without hesitation, Harry accelerated after it.

Draco's eyes narrowed as he saw Harry take off. "Not so fast," he muttered, pushing his Nimbus 2001 to its top speed.

The two Seekers raced across the field, their brooms cutting through the air like arrows. The Snitch, however, was unpredictable. It darted into the narrow gap between the audience stands and the field below, forcing Draco and Harry to navigate a maze of wooden beams and supports.

Draco had to slow down to maneuver through the obstacles, allowing Harry to catch up. The Gryffindor Seeker pulled ahead, his determination evident.

"Not happening," Draco growled. He leaned forward, gripping his broom tightly with both hands. He had been hesitant to use this trick, but now he had no choice. He trusted his brother's modifications to the broom.

With a burst of speed, Draco's broom shot forward, the tip releasing a stream of compressed air that acted as both a shield and a booster. The broom crashed through the wooden beams, sending splinters flying, but Draco remained unharmed.

Harry, caught off guard by Draco's sudden acceleration, tried to dodge, but it was too late. Draco's broom collided with Harry's, sending the Gryffindor Seeker tumbling through the air. Harry hit the ground hard, his broom snapping in two as he groaned in pain, both of his legs broken.

Draco, meanwhile, continued his pursuit of the Snitch. With Harry out of the way, he closed the gap and snatched the golden ball from the air.

The Slytherin stands erupted in cheers as Draco held the Snitch aloft, a wild smile on his face. Gryffindor had lost the match soundly, and Draco had proven himself as the better seeker.

On the ground, Harry lay motionless, his face pale with pain. The Gryffindor team rushed to his side, their expressions a mix of anger and concern.

Lucius leaned back in his seat, his smirk widening. "A flawless victory," he said, his voice filled with pride.

Snape, however, glanced at Harry with a flicker of concern as he saw Gildroy Lockhart approach the boy before masking it with his usual scowl. "Indeed, let's hope they keep up the good performance," he muttered.

The match was over. As the Slytherin team celebrated their victory, and Gryffindors screamed for the unfairness of the match. Dante was still working alone in the library, he was not interested in Quidditch.

___________

Later that day, the Great Hall was alive with chatter as the Slytherins relived their Quidditch victory. Draco and his housemates repeated the match's events over and over, their laughter echoing through the hall as they sent mocking glances toward the Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors, in turn, glared back, their faces filled with anger and frustration.

Draco, still riding the high of his triumph, turned to Dante, who had been quietly observing the scene. "You should've been there, Dante," Draco said, his voice brimming with excitement. "It was completely one-sided. And at the end, Potter broke his legs! Lockhart tried to fix them, but he ended up removing all the bones instead."

Dante raised an eyebrow, surprised. Every time he thought Lockhart had reached the peak of incompetence, the man somehow managed to surpass it. "How are Lockhart's classes lately?" Dante asked, his tone neutral.

Draco shrugged. "Average, I guess. He's teaching, and there's no nonsense, but he still comes across as a below-average wizard."

Dante nodded slightly. He had heard from Snape that Dumbledore was helping Lockhart prepare for his classes. It wasn't ideal, but it was good enough for now.

___________

Over the next week, Dante made significant progress on his Magic Circuit project. He had finally completed the necessary runes, but the circuit required a high magic output and Basilisk skin, which was currently unavailable. Dante sent a letter to his father, asking if he had found any traces of a Basilisk. The response was negative.

Dante considered creating another Basilisk, but the creature would take years to mature. He briefly entertained the idea of establishing a farm to raise and harvest Basilisks for their skin, much like the Muggles did with livestock. It was a macabre thought, but practicality often outweighed sentimentality in Dante's mind.

___________

Two more weeks passed, and Christmas arrived. Dante returned to the Slytherin common room after a long day in the library. He found Draco lounging comfortably with Crabbe and Goyle, the two boys nodding along as Draco spoke.

As Dante approached, Draco looked up and grinned. "You spend too much time in the library, brother. It's the holidays—you should relax for once."

Dante's expression remained impassive. "I find my work relaxing enough," he replied. Then, his gaze shifted to Crabbe and Goyle, and his eyes narrowed. "What do you two think you're doing?"

The two boys froze, their faces paling. Draco, noticing Dante's tone, sat up straighter. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Dante didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pointed his wand at Crabbe and Goyle. With a flick, the two boys' appearances shimmered and dissolved, revealing Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

The Slytherin common room fell silent as the other students turned to stare at the intruders. Harry and Ron looked around nervously, their faces a mix of fear and defiance.

Dante turned to Farley, the Slytherin prefect. "Farley, you are the prefect, escort these two to Professor Snape. Let him deal with them."

Farley nodded and grabbed Harry and Ron by their collars, dragging them out of the common room. Dante watched them go, his expression unreadable.

Once they were gone, Dante turned to Draco. "What did they want?"

Draco hesitated, then replied, "They were asking about the Chamber of Secrets. They wanted to know what I knew about it."

Dante raised an eyebrow. "And what did you tell them?"

Draco shrugged. "I told them what I heard from Father about the last time it was opened, fifty years ago."

Dante narrowed his eyes. He hadn't paid much attention to the rumors and stories about the Chamber nor did he know it was opened before. Now he wondered if the recent events were connected to the past.

"What exactly do you know about the last opening?" Dante asked.

Draco recounted everything he had heard from Lucius—the attacks, the rumors of a monster, and the eventual closure of the Chamber. Dante listened intently, his mind racing.

When Draco finished, Dante had a thoughtful look on his face. "So, the prank might have been meant to point to the events from fifty years ago," he mused.