Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 295 Dumbledore: What an honest and good boy!
Peter Pettigrew already looked utterly wretched at that moment.

Coupled with that cowardly demeanor of tears streaming down his face and him just shaking his head.

It really makes my stomach churn.

Dylan couldn't bear to watch any longer, so he simply looked away and turned to Professor Dumbledore.

"To be honest, there's something I've never quite understood."

He raised his hand and gently stroked his chin, his brows furrowed slightly, his expression showing a hint of serious confusion.

"Why didn't you choose Professor Dumbledore as the Keeper of Secrets in the first place? Was it because... you didn't trust him enough?"

He paused, then continued, "Given the situation at the time, if even Professor Dumbledore sided with Voldemort, then your so-called resistance would have been meaningless. It would have been better to just surrender."

"Dylan, you mustn't say that."

Professor Dumbledore's voice was serious, yet tinged with a hint of helplessness.

"No matter how powerful the forces of evil are, people must always uphold their principles and bottom lines."

Although Dumbledore knew in his heart that what Dylan said was actually the truth, and that reality was largely like that.

But as a teacher, there are some things that can't be said so bluntly.

Then, he turned his gaze to Peter Pettigrew, the gentleness in his eyes vanishing instantly, replaced by a sharpness and majesty.

“Peter, what Dylan said earlier wasn’t wrong.”

Dumbledore's voice was steady and powerful: "You are not without opportunities to turn back; there have been plenty of such opportunities in the past year."

"Even if Voldemort initially forced you, in the end, this is the path you chose yourself... Be prepared to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban."

Sirius Black stared intently at Peter Pettigrew's terrified face, his eyes burning with rage that seemed to want to incinerate him.

He remained silent for a moment, then finally forced a resentful "humph" out of his throat.

With a sudden release, he slammed Peter Pettigrew back into his chair.

It made a muffled "thump" sound.

Dylan looked at the scene before him and couldn't help but sigh softly.

He muttered to himself.

How come the wizarding world is like this? Such a big mistake, and they don't get the death penalty, they just lock them up and that's it?
It would be better to just shut him out of his world.

Even if your hands are stained with a lot of blood.

Once captured, their final destination will be nothing more than Azkaban.

Since that prison opened, the number of dark wizards who were actually killed on the spot when they were arrested can be counted on one hand.

Frankly, if the wizarding world had enacted a law of "an eye for an eye," Voldemort probably wouldn't have been able to muster so many people willing to risk their lives for him when he returned.

Professor Dumbledore picked up a quill and wrote a letter to Fudge.

He knew in his heart that Fudge would not easily admit to something that was tantamount to slapping the Ministry of Magic in public, and that he would have to spend a lot of time and effort to deal with it afterward.

So he let Dylan and Harry leave first.

"Go and thaw your Professor Lupin first."

Before Dylan left, Professor Dumbledore looked up at the full moon outside the window; the moonlight was no longer as intense as before.

He smiled gently at Dylan and said, "Don't worry about him losing control. Keeping him frozen like this isn't good for his health."

It was fortunate that Professor Lu Ping was huddled in the corner, his frozen posture quite strange.

Otherwise, her appearance just now would have certainly startled Mrs. Pomfrey again.

"The curse stops immediately."

Dylan recited the incantation, lifting the freezing and soul-destroying spells from Professor Lupin.

As soon as the incantation was finished, Professor Lupin's body began to tremble violently, and the ice quickly melted into water, which dripped down his hair.

Almost at the same instant, he let out a roar that was not human, filled with pain and savagery.

Upon seeing this, Professor Dumbledore gently raised his wand, and a decorative bronze flower branch on the wall suddenly came to life, rapidly sprouting countless vines that grew wildly, wrapping around Professor Lupin layer by layer, forming a tight spherical cage.

Then, the cage made of vines, carrying Professor Lupin, slowly moved to the window and flew out through the open window.

Dylan guessed that he was probably sent to the Screaming Shack.

"Then I shall take my leave, Professor."

"Dylan said."

Professor Dumbledore looked at him with a smile, nodded, and had a hint of approval in his eyes.

"It's great to see how much you've improved, Dylan. Also..."

Professor Dumbledore suddenly gave Dylan a slightly mischievous wink.

He then leaned closer and whispered, "With Felius's repeated insistence, this year's House Cup is probably going to Gryffindor."

"However, you may have to give a speech on stage at that time, so you can start preparing now—by the way, don't tell anyone else about the Academy Cup for now."

hair……

Speech?

Dylan paused for a moment, blinked, and lowered his voice as well, his tone carrying a hint of surprise and reluctance.

"Professor, I haven't actually done anything particularly remarkable for this. I've just run errands and shown the way. I really don't deserve this opportunity to speak, so I'd better pass."

"Well……"

Professor Dumbledore was clearly taken aback by Dylan's words, blinking in surprise, a hint of astonishment flashing in his eyes behind his glasses.

But then, that surprise turned into a deeper satisfaction, and the smile on his lips became even more gentle.

"Of course, if you really don't want to."

Courage, justice, friendship, kindness, and this rare humility...

Dylan's qualities perfectly matched everyone's imagination of the best student at Hogwarts.

Although Voldemort was back then.

It used to look like this on the surface.

Exceptionally talented and outstanding in performance.

But Professor Dumbledore had secretly allowed Dylan to look into the Mirror of Erised.

Judging from the image reflected in his mirror, he was convinced that Dylan would never become like Voldemort.

They are also people with extremely high magical talent.

Voldemort was ultimately consumed by ambition and went astray, while Dylan was able to grow into such an upright and kind child.

This further convinced Professor Dumbledore that the power of love was far greater than any powerful magic!
What a good boy!
So humble, and so eager to learn.

He was already very interested to see what kind of wizard Dylan would become when he grew up.

"Oh, Professor, there's one more thing."

Dylan had already reached the door and touched the doorknob when he suddenly stopped, as if he had remembered something.

He turned around and walked back, his face showing a serious expression.

"Huh? What's wrong?"

Professor Dumbledore had just turned around to deal with the documents on the table.

Upon hearing this, she stopped what she was doing, looked at him gently, and asked in a questioning tone. "That crown."

Dylan deliberately lowered his voice, spoke cautiously, and used a rather euphemistic way of saying, "According to Miss Helena—that is, Mrs. Grey—Tom once had designs on her."

Upon hearing this, Professor Dumbledore's relaxed brows instantly furrowed.

The gentleness on his face faded, replaced by deep contemplation.

He paused for a moment, then pressed on, "You mean...?"

“I suspect that Tom deliberately collected the relics of the four founders.”

Dylan lowered his voice even further, his eyes filled with seriousness.

Professor Dumbledore, being so intelligent, immediately understood Dylan's intention.

He used "Tom" to refer to the name he couldn't say, which was clearly not out of fear, so it could only be related to the diary.

Thinking of this, the look in his eyes grew even more profound.

"……I see."

Professor Dumbledore nodded slowly, his tone solemn. "This information is very valuable. Thank you, Dylan."

Professor Dumbledore lowered his eyes and pondered for a moment, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the table, making a soft tapping sound.

His deep eyes gleamed behind his glasses, clearly as he rapidly processed the information Dylan had brought, connecting it with various clues from the past.

After a moment, he raised his head, the solemnity on his face gradually fading, and a gentle expression returned.

He stood up, walked slowly to Dylan, reached out and gently patted his shoulder. The warmth of his palm seeped through his clothes, carrying a reassuring power.

"Alright, it's getting late. The clock in the castle should be striking midnight soon."

Professor Dumbledore's voice carried a hint of barely perceptible fatigue, yet remained gentle. "Go back and rest early. Too much has happened tonight; you deserve a good rest."

"Okay, I'll head back now. Goodbye, Professor."

Dylan nodded, gave Professor Dumbledore a slight nod, and turned to walk towards the door.

As he gripped the doorknob again, he glanced back at Dumbledore, who was still standing there, gazing at the moonlight outside the window, seemingly lost in thought.

Dylan gently opened the door and then quietly closed it, leaving the office filled with silence and contemplation.

Dylan has never mentioned to anyone that the tiara was once a Horcrux, and Helena has never revealed it to anyone either, and there will be no chance to say it again in the future.

In other words, he doesn't need to worry at all about his statement being exposed.

That's why he was able to so confidently conceal crucial information, only telling Professor Dumbledore that Voldemort had once coveted the crown.

By the time Professor Dumbledore truly learns his true identity, he will probably already be nothing more than an image in a portrait painting.

With that thought in mind, Dylan reached out and pushed open the door to the headmaster's office, only to find Harry standing outside waiting for him.

“Harry?” he asked, slightly surprised.

"I'm waiting for you, let's go back together."

Harry's voice was calm. He didn't ask what he and Professor Dumbledore had talked about. He just looked up at the sky, which was now completely dark, and said softly.

Are we just going to walk together?
Dylan looked into Harry's eyes, those green eyes seemed to hold something, he blinked, and didn't ask any further questions.

"Okay, let's go."

The two walked in the empty corridor, the stone floor echoing with each step.

Harry's pace quickened and slowed, and he hesitated several times, his lips moving but ultimately saying nothing.

He remained silent the whole way back to the Gryffindor Tower, without asking a single question.

Dylan had no interest in guessing the complicated thoughts of teenagers, and since Harry wasn't going to say anything, he was happy to have some peace and quiet.

As soon as he got back to the dormitory, he went straight to his bed, crawled onto it, and drew the curtains.

—Whether it's wind or moon outside the window, just say goodnight to the world.

At breakfast the next day.

Harry and the others were called away by Professor Dumbledore, but this had nothing to do with Dylan.

He planned to go to the Forbidden Forest first to appease Serquil and take care of some of his own business.

When Dylan returned to the castle, it was just in time for dinner.

He had just sat down at the table when he felt a gaze fixed on him, and he knew without looking that it was Harry.

So, after serving himself a small portion of stew.

Dylan looked up at Harry and asked in a calm tone:

"What's wrong?"

“Dylan…”

Harry's voice was hesitant, as if he had mustered a lot of courage before finally speaking.

Harry's fingers slowly tightened, gripping the knife and fork tightly in his hands. The metal cutlery trembled slightly in his palm, making a soft clinking sound.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, as if he was trying to calm himself down, and his eyes showed obvious tension.

Did you see what happened today?

His voice was slightly strained, with a hint of barely perceptible probing.

"What? What happened today?"

Dylan frowned slightly, his eyes full of confusion. He put down his spoon, looked directly at Harry, and waited for him to continue.

Did Fudge completely ignore the truth and insist on imprisoning Sirius Black?
Or were they summoned by Professor Dumbledore to use the Time-Turner to go back in time and save Buckbeak and Sirius Black?

Or perhaps the Ministry of Magic officers were escorting Peter Pettigrew and "accidentally" let him escape?

He knew none of this.

"..."

Harry stared intently at Dylan for a long while, trying to find a clue in his face.

But Dylan's expression was as calm as a deep pool, revealing nothing.

Dylan's disguise is too good!

Hermione had also used a time-tamper, and they had previously discovered a flaw in her abilities.

But Dylan didn't reveal a single trace.

According to Hermione, Dylan returned the Time-Turner halfway through the first semester.

But they didn't notice any change in him at all.

Harry thought to himself, "If only I could tell if someone is lying."

There was nothing Harry could do but sigh softly, his tone tinged with helplessness.

"Professor Lupin has resigned because Professor Snape revealed today that he is a werewolf."

He knew that this was a bit abrupt and that he was obviously trying to find a topic, but he still managed to gloss over it by mentioning Professor Lupin's matter, his eyes darting away from Dylan's gaze.

"Oh, is that so? Then isn't that great?"

Dylan didn't delve into the oddity in Harry's words, but simply nodded knowingly.

I picked up a spoon and scooped up a mouthful of mushroom soup. The warm broth slid down my throat, carrying a rich and savory flavor.

(End of this chapter)