Dana was about to make his move, but he stopped.
Jennifer Greengrass was far too calm. It wasn't the composure of someone about to be burned to death, and Dana felt it wiser to watch for a few seconds longer.
The instant the executioner lit the pyre, a translucent film shimmered around Greengrass—a Fire-Repelling Charm.
Then Jennifer began to wail in agony.
Dana rubbed his forehead. Her acting was impressive; if she weren't that convincing, the Muggles around him wouldn't have been cheering with such enthusiasm.
Moments later, the ropes binding Greengrass's hands burned through, and, hidden by the flames, she cast a Disillusionment Charm right before everyone's eyes, vanishing from the pyre. The "charred" figure tied to the stake was nothing more than a piece of firewood she had Transfigured.
Interesting.
Greengrass's Disillusionment Charm could fool Muggles—but not him.
Dana withdrew from the crowd and transformed into a swallow. The Muggles were too enthralled by the spectacle of firewood burning firewood to notice that a man beside them had turned into a bird.
He followed the faint outline of Greengrass through the air; she intrigued him, and he wanted to know more about this clever witch.
What he didn't expect, however, was for Greengrass to circle around and head toward York Minster.
The swallow swooped from the sky and morphed into a mosquito, slipping silently into Jennifer's hair.
Once inside the cathedral, Jennifer lifted her Disillusionment Charm.
Before her stood a bishop, holding a folded set of nun's robes.
"Sister Greengrass, you've worked hard."
Jennifer accepted the garments and tossed them casually; they floated up and adhered to her body. In an instant, she was clothed in nun's attire, while her wizard robes—those she had worn moments earlier—rested neatly in her hand.
"Bishop Moliere, there's no need for pleasantries. I still have to make it to the Worcester Cathedral event."
The bishop nodded gravely.
"Sister Greengrass, please endure it a little longer. His Majesty the King is deeply displeased that our operations have been disrupted by wizards. Our recent clumsy performances are a last resort—we must prove our worth.
Please convey to Sister Morgana on my behalf that our church will never forget her service. We will do everything we can to locate the hidden family she seeks. It is merely a special period right now, and we hope she continues to support us as before."
Jennifer replied expressionlessly, "I will convey it."
With that, she pulled out a portkey. The space around her twisted—and she vanished.
…
However, Jennifer Greengrass did not arrive at Worcester Cathedral.
She appeared in a forest.
A portkey never malfunctions like this. There was only one explanation: a powerful wizard had diverted the spatial anchor point.
"Who? Who is it?"
Jennifer instantly went on guard. The bracelet on her wrist flickered faintly with magic.
"No need to be so tense," a calm voice said.
Dana appeared before her, startling Jennifer.
"You can't resist me," he said lightly. "Why not sit down and have a proper chat?"
With a wave of his hand, a table and two chairs materialized between them, adorned with delicate pastries and steaming tea.
Jennifer hesitated. The handsome young man with emerald eyes sat down elegantly and gestured for her to join him.
Pouting, she eventually sat across from him. She had endured every kind of hardship; death itself didn't frighten her. Why should she fear a handsome stranger who seemed almost kind?
Dana gestured politely for her to help herself. He lifted his teacup and took a small sip, watching her closely.
"Jennifer Greengrass… I heard your name once—from a young wizard at the London Heresy Tribunal. Tell me, do you still remember Brown Weasley, Teryl Stevenson, and the others?" (See Chapter 138 for details.)
Jennifer's pupils constricted sharply. "Where are they? Are they alright?" she demanded.
Dana nodded slightly. His guess had been right—the girl before him was indeed the same one those young wizards had mentioned, the one taken away by the priests.
"Brown Weasley and the others are safe. They're now receiving education and protection at Hogwarts Castle," he said. "But Teryl Stevenson was executed—he was found guilty of colluding with the church, which led to the deaths of more than twenty young wizards."
Jennifer nodded. "I always suspected Stevenson was a traitor. Only that fool Brown kept orbiting that witch all day long."
"Tell me about yourself, Greengrass," Dana said evenly. "What did the priests do to you after they captured you? Why are you working for the church?"
Jennifer didn't respond immediately. She simply stared at him, silent and unblinking.
Dana tilted his head, puzzled by her expression.
After more than ten seconds, tears began to roll down Jennifer Greengrass's cheeks, and then she broke down completely—wailing like a child who had been wronged beyond measure.
"Wah—why didn't you come to the Tribunal sooner? Why didn't you save me?" she cried.
"They cursed me!"
"They tortured my body and controlled my mind!"
"They forced me to kill people!"
"They did all sorts of experiments on me!"
"Later, they made me study magic. When I couldn't master the Fire-Repelling Charm, they burned the soles of my feet! When they were raw, they healed them—and when they healed, they burned them again! When I failed to learn Lightning Magic, they electrocuted me over and over until I couldn't even recognize myself!"
"The wizard companions who were captured with me couldn't bear the torture. Some committed suicide, others went mad. Of all those who were taken, only three of us are still alive!"
Jennifer's suffering was undeniable.
But did Dana rage at her story, swearing vengeance upon the church?
Hardly. That wasn't in his nature.
If Godric Gryffindor had heard it, perhaps he would have exploded in righteous fury. But Dana? No.
He knew too well that for the sake of profit, humans were capable of far worse. Such cruelty was the inherent evil of mankind. Destroy one organization, and another would simply take its place.
Besides, the church was not his true enemy. His enemy was the Avar Coven.
Still, he felt sympathy for Greengrass's misery.
"So," Dana said softly, "if you had the power, would you want revenge?"
"Yes!" she said instantly.
But the word had barely left her lips when her whole body began to convulse. Black veins bulged beneath her pale skin like writhing worms.
It was an extremely powerful curse—the kind used by secret orders to control their subordinates. The moment a controlled member felt betrayal or rebellion, the curse would trigger violent punishment. In many cases, it could even kill them.
Merlin himself had once taught Dana about this type of curse.
Since he recognized it, he naturally knew how to undo it.
He raised his hand and traced glowing runes in the air. The symbols combined into a spinning circular sigil.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, Dana made a small incision on Jennifer's forehead. Blood welled out—dark, tainted—and with it came a tendril of black gas, drawn into the floating circle, condensing into an inky spot at its center.
Instantly, the black veins receded from Jennifer's skin, and the tearing pain vanished as if it had never existed.
Jennifer felt her body lighten. She looked at Dana with awe.
When Sister Morgana had placed the curse upon her, she had needed elaborate magic circles and blood sacrifices. Yet this man had undone it with a mere gesture.
"Alright, Jennifer," Dana said calmly. "I'll send you to Hogwarts. There, you can study, grow stronger—and when the time comes, take your revenge yourself."
Jennifer nodded silently.
Dana continued, "I overheard your conversation with the bishop earlier. You mentioned Sister Morgana. Who is she?"
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