Dana's surroundings shifted in a blur.
The world around him twisted and expanded—he saw Hogwarts becoming more crowded, its ancient halls filled with students and ghosts alike. He witnessed Helena stealing her mother's diadem, the Bloody Baron pursuing her in a fit of tragic love, and both their deaths staining the castle's history forever.
Then the scenes moved again—he saw the Church's power grow until even the succession of monarchs fell under its influence. For a time, wizards and the Church maintained an uneasy balance, each watching the other with suspicion. But in the early seventeenth century, that fragile peace shattered.
The Goblin Rebellion erupted. Though the wizards eventually suppressed the uprising, they emerged weakened. The Church seized the opportunity, tightening its grip and striking at wizardkind with vengeance. Yet their arrogance was short-lived. Dana saw the rise of the Divine Right of Kings, civil wars, restorations, and revolutions that swept away the Church's dominance.
By 1689, the Bill of Rights had been passed, establishing parliamentary sovereignty in Britain. In the same year, the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was enacted, hiding the magical world from Muggle eyes.
Dana's vision continued to race forward. He saw the Second Goblin Rebellion, the rise of factions, and then—an extraordinary figure appeared at Hogwarts. This figure crushed both the Goblins and the Fire Serpent Party, restoring order with power that shook the wizarding world itself.
Then the vision faded, leaving Dana sighing heavily. Despite all his precautions, he still hadn't been able to guard against Morgan. That woman had fused herself with demon blood, becoming an artificial Cambion. Artificial Cambions were not as powerful as the true-born, but they still possessed the ability to use forbidden bloodline magic.
Still, once he returned to his own time, facing Morgan again would be different. Her divination would hold little sway over him now.
But there was a problem—when he had crossed before, the time anchor had been set by the Old Ancestor Merlin himself. This time, he hadn't been so careful. His mind had been muddled, and he had failed to set a new anchor. Without one, there was no telling where—or when—he would land.
Without an anchor, error was inevitable.
The torrent of visions slowed, then stopped. Dana's feet hit solid ground.
A shout cut through the air—
"Avada Kedavra!"
A loud crack and the crunch of branches echoed around him. Dana winced and steadied himself, suppressing the dizziness that came with time travel.
He stood atop a small hill, surrounded by dense bushes. Sharp branches reached for him like claws, but Merlin's robes shielded him from harm. Below, in the valley, chaos raged.
A group of wizards in black robes and hoods were besieging a lone woman. Her movements were agile—she darted between boulders and trees, occasionally counterattacking with spells of deadly precision. Two of the black-robed attackers were struck and instantly sliced apart by her magic.
Nearby, beside a stone, lay the pale corpse of a man. His chest was still, his life stolen by the Killing Curse. On his chest rested a small child, no more than a year old, lying quietly amidst the battle.
The woman tried several times to reach the child but was driven back by flashes of green light.
"Control that brat—don't let the woman escape!" someone shouted.
"Little Crouch, you go!" another voice snapped.
"Idiot! Don't say my name!"
"What does it matter? There's no one else here, is there? That woman's as good as dead!"
"The Master is missing. We can't afford to be reckless now. Be careful!"
"You're too timid!"
Dana's eyes darkened, red light glinting faintly. Magical lines began to form beneath his feet, spreading outward in intricate geometric patterns. Within moments, the entire battlefield was covered by a glowing, invisible web of power.
Two curses struck a nearby tree, exploding it into splinters. The woman flinched but did not falter. Her heart was heavy with grief. Her husband lay dead—killed by these hateful Death Eaters—and now they sought to murder her child as well.
She pressed a hand to the small bundle strapped to her back.
She couldn't give up. She had to fight—to drive them away long enough to get her son beyond the reach of their anti-Apparition field.
Then, something caught her eye.
Lines of faint light were forming beneath her feet, shifting and twisting into a pattern she recognized. Her father had taught her this formation—a magic circle designed to disrupt the spells of all wizards caught within it.
Her heart steadied. Whoever had created this one was immensely powerful. To lay down such a large-scale circle so swiftly, without detection—it was beyond anything these Death Eaters could accomplish.
She felt the rhythm of the circle's energy, the way it pulsed through the earth like a heartbeat. It wasn't hostile to her.
So, whoever had cast it was not her enemy.
The Death Eaters, oblivious, continued their assault.
The woman narrowed her eyes, synchronizing her own magic with the circle's flow. That was the only way to resist its disruptive effects. She knew exactly how to do it.
Murderous intent flickered across her face. She stepped from behind the tree, wand flashing in her hand.
Stones around the battlefield shuddered, transforming into snarling beasts that lunged at the Death Eaters. She no longer needed cover—her Transfiguration had turned the terrain itself into her weapon.
The Death Eaters sneered. "Kill her, and her magic will fail!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
But their spells fizzled. Wands sparked weakly, some producing nothing more than feeble embers. A few of the stronger wizards managed to conjure thin, sluggish streams of green light—but they moved like dying fireflies, their aim wild.
Panic spread.
The Death Eaters' formation broke instantly. Those at the front were torn apart by the conjured beasts, their screams echoing through the forest.
The woman showed no emotion. Her wand swept through the air again and again, sending cutting curses that sliced through flesh and fabric alike. Each spell landed true.
Dana watched, silently impressed. Her Cutting Curse was on par with his own—perhaps even sharper.
"Turn off the anti-Apparition field!" Little Crouch shouted.
A Death Eater fumbled for a small black box and twisted it frantically. A hum rippled through the air as the anti-Apparition enchantment collapsed.
Several of them attempted to flee immediately—but under the distortion of the magic circle, Apparition became deadly. One man vanished in a blur—his head disappearing while his body remained. A gruesome fountain of blood followed.
Within the circle, even simple spells were unstable. Attempting Apparition was suicide.
The woman's every movement brought death. Under the circle's influence, she was death incarnate.
"Scatter and run! She can't kill all of us!" Little Crouch bellowed.
The surviving Death Eaters fled in all directions. She cut down a few more, but most escaped, limping and terrified.
At last, silence fell.
The woman stumbled forward, rushing to the child lying by the stone. She fell to her knees, trembling, and gathered the infant into her arms.
When she saw that her son was unhurt, her body sagged with relief. Then, her eyes turned to her husband's lifeless face. Her tears came in waves, unstoppable.
The infant reached up with his tiny hand, brushing at her tears with clumsy tenderness.
She choked out a laugh through her sobs, hugging him tightly.
"Dana," she whispered, "be good. Mommy's fine."
She rocked him gently, her tears falling onto his small face.
Up on the hill, Dana stood frozen. His breath caught in his throat.
He looked down at the child in her arms—the child who bore his own name.
Something deep within him stirred, a mix of shock and recognition. Time, it seemed, had brought him face to face with a memory that was not yet his own.
The magic circle faded quietly, its power dispersing into the night.
The wind blew through the valley, carrying away the scent of death and ash.
And in that stillness, beneath the faint shimmer of the stars, the young mother held her son close, murmuring a lullaby only he could hear.
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