The night Ginny Weasley was moved to St. Mungo's, the atmosphere in the hospital was tense. Her condition was dire, and the healers were at a loss. Despite their best efforts, they couldn't find a way to help her. She lay motionless on the hospital bed, her breathing shallow and her skin pale. Dumbledore stood by her side, his brows knitted in deep concern.
"Whatever did this to her, it severely damaged her soul" one of the healers said, shaking his head. "We've never seen anything like this."
Dumbledore sighed, his voice heavy with regret. "She was under the influence of a very dark magic for too long. The damage it caused might be irreversible."
The healers exchanged uneasy glances, but no one could argue with the headmaster's assessment. Ginny's life force was fading, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
The next day, the Weasley family was informed of Ginny's condition. They rushed to St. Mungo's, their faces filled with dread. When they arrived, they were met with the heartbreaking news that their daughter might never wake up—and even if she did, she might not live more than two or three years.
Molly Weasley broke down in tears, clutching her husband's arm for support. "Please," she begged Dumbledore, her voice trembling. "There must be something you can do. Anything."
Dumbledore's expression was somber as he shook his head. "I've done all I can. Even the best healers here are unable to help her. I've asked Professor Snape to examine her as well, but… there's nothing more we can do."
Arthur Weasley stood silently, his face pale and his hands clenched into fists. He looked at Dumbledore, his voice barely above a whisper. "How did this happen? What… what caused this?"
Dumbledore hesitated, then asked, "Ginny was in the possession of an old diary, it was in reality a dark artifact with a terrible spell and stored memories of the creator. Do you know anything about it? Where could Ginny possibly have gotten it from?"
Arthur shook his head, his expression one of helplessness. "No, I don't. I've always warned my children not to trust something that can think for itself. But Ginny… she's just a child. She must have been tricked."
Molly let out a sob, burying her face in her hands. The Weasley siblings stood nearby, their faces a mix of shock and grief. Fred and George, usually so full of mischief, were uncharacteristically silent. Ron stood beside Harry, his face pale and his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
As the family gathered around Ginny's bed, Dumbledore stepped aside, his mind racing with possibilities. He was thinking when and how Ginny got the diary.
Dumbledore's thoughts were interrupted by Arthur, who approached him with a determined look. "Is there really no one else who can help her? No one at all you can think of?"
Dumbledore thought for a moment then sighed. "There is one person who might have the ability to help, but he's… unavailable at the moment."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"Dante Malfoy," Dumbledore said quietly. "He's shown remarkable skills beyond what most can comprehend and developed groundbreaking spells in short periods. He might be able to figure out a solution, but he disappeared a month ago, and no one knows where he is."
Arthur's expression darkened. "Lucius's deranged son? look at my face, you think he'd help us?"
Dumbledore's gaze was steady. "While he can be extreme in his actions, he's not like his family. He's helped others before, even those he had no reason to. If anyone can find a way to save Ginny, it's him."
Arthur nodded slowly, though his skepticism was evident. "Then we need to find him. For Ginny's sake."
The Weasleys stayed by Ginny's side, the grief painted on their faces. With Molly saying she would never leave her daughter's bedside till she woke up.
___________
In the Malfoy Manor, Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot from their robes. Lucius Malfoy sat in his study, his expression one of thinly veiled annoyance as he regarded his two guests.
"To what urgent matter do I owe this… pleasure?" Lucius drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Dumbledore, unfazed by Lucius's demeanor, got straight to the point. "Mr. Malfoy, do you know where we can find your son, Dante?"
Lucius raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Why do you need to know that?"
Dumbledore's gaze was steady. "A child's life is in danger, and we believe your son might be able to save her."
Lucius leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking to Arthur Weasley. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "Let me guess… it's a Weasley, isn't it?"
Arthur's fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Yes. It's my daughter, Ginny. She's been inflicted by dark magic and is in a coma. Even if she wakes up, she'll be too weak to live normally and will die soon after."
Lucius's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He quickly masked it, however, and leaned forward, his tone mocking. "And why, pray tell, do you think a Malfoy would help a Weasley?"
Arthur's temper flared. "This isn't about our families! A child's life is at stake!"
Lucius snorted, clearly unimpressed. Dumbledore, sensing the tension rising, interjected. "Mr. Malfoy, this is a matter of life and death. We need to speak with Dante directly. Do you know where he is?"
Lucius shrugged, his expression one of feigned indifference. "I truly don't know where he is. His mother was furious when she found out he disappeared without telling anyone where he was going."
Dumbledore studied Lucius carefully, his piercing blue eyes searching for any sign of deception. "Aren't you worried about your son's disappearance?"
Lucius chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Worried? No. My son is far above anyone else in this world. He's an unmatched wizard in skill and power." He leaned back, his smirk widening as he added, "I'd even wager he could take you on in a duel, Headmaster Dumbledore, and win."
Arthur's jaw dropped, his disbelief evident. "You can't be serious. You think your son is stronger than the greatest wizard of the past century?"
Dumbledore, however, didn't seem surprised. He had felt the danger Dante exuded before, and Lucius's words only confirmed his suspicions.
In the end, Dumbledore stood, his expression grave. "If you hear from Dante, please contact me immediately. This is a matter of life and death."
Lucius waved a hand dismissively. "I'll pass along the message, but I'll leave it to Dante to decide." He glanced at Arthur, his smirk returning. "If it was you, I'd do everything in my power to prevent him from helping you."
Arthur paused, his anger giving way to reluctant gratitude. "Thank you," he said stiffly.
With that, Dumbledore and Arthur left through the floo network, leaving Lucius alone in his study. As the green flames died down, Lucius leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful.
In truth, he didn't care about the Weasley girl's life or death. His words to Arthur were merely a performance, a way to position himself as the bigger person. The reality was that he wouldn't dare hide, lie, or give orders to Dante. His son was beyond his control.