Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 305 How did Dumbledore find the Horcrux?
As soon as Dumbledore finished speaking, he reached out and gently grasped Dylan's wrist.

Before Dylan could ask any more questions, a faint silver light emanated from the two of them.

With a magical fluctuation of phantom teleportation, it then vanished from its original spot in an instant.

When it regained its footing.

They were on a quiet street.

Scattered vines climbed the exterior walls of the houses on both sides of the street.

Only a few pedestrians strolled slowly along the road, chatting quietly among themselves.

The conversation seemed to revolve around a neighbor nearby.

"Tell me, isn't that guy named Moody a bit abnormal? He locks himself in his house all day, and when he does come out, he's acting strangely."

A woman in a gray coat muttered to her companion as she walked.

"Who knows! But his face is really scary. I ran into him last evening, and that scar combined with the magic lens in his single eye gave me nightmares that night."

His companion responded with a frown, his tone full of apprehension.

Dylan stood still and gently shook his head.

"Professor, is there a specific matter we need to discuss with Mr. Moody?"

Dylan composed himself, looked at Dumbledore beside him, and asked.

Hearing this, Dumbledore seemed even more puzzled than Dylan. He raised an eyebrow slightly, let out a soft "Oh?", and then turned to look at Dylan with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Aren't you always able to foresee things? Why don't you guess why I asked you to come along?"

Dylan was speechless for a moment, secretly cursing in his heart.

In certain matters, almost everyone is prone to double standards.

Take his love of keeping secrets and telling riddles, for example; he himself is like that.

On ordinary days, he always feels a strange sense of satisfaction when he deliberately uses vague words to whet people's appetites.

But if someone else tells him a riddle, he becomes extremely impatient.

I wonder if he's strong enough to teach this old man who loves to speak in riddles a lesson.

Why do you have to make him predict something in the time it takes to say a few words?
Dumbledore said nothing more, and led Dylan to a black wooden doorway in the middle of the street, where he gently knocked on the door.

A moment later, a hoarse male voice came from inside the room, with a distinct grainy quality, like sandpaper rubbing against wood.

Just hearing that voice, Dylan immediately pictured a weathered, scarred face.

"Who's outside?" the person inside asked warily, their tone full of suspicion.

“It’s me, Alastor. Put your wand away.”

Dumbledore placed his hand on the doorknob and spoke gently into the room.

"Albus?" The hoarse male voice paused, then pressed on with a hint of scrutiny, "Then tell me, when and where did we first meet? What were you doing, and what was I doing?"

Upon hearing this, Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, then slowly said, "Alright, Alastor, so many years have passed, I can't remember many of the details clearly anymore."

"But I remember, it was when I was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, and you came to my class as a student. That's probably when we met..."

Dumbledore helplessly raised his hand to press his brow, twirled his white beard that hung down to his chest, and said with a hint of amusement and exasperation in his voice.

"Besides, no one in the entire magical world would dare to impersonate me. Alastor, don't delay, open the door!"

"Squeak-"

The old wooden door made a long, drawn-out sound as it slowly opened inward.

An elderly man with a straight posture walked out; even though his hair was gray, his back was not hunched at all.

His left eye was small, with a deep black pupil, and he was as calm as an ordinary old man.

His right eye, however, was exaggeratedly large, round, and had a bright, vivid blue color.

That demonic eye could easily penetrate walls and clothing, and even see the back of his own head.

Moody's left leg was missing a section, and in its place was a somewhat polished oak prosthetic leg.

When they walk, they make a "tap-tap" sound on the stone pavement.

Beneath his thick, dark gray hair, his face was covered with crisscrossing scars.

A deep scar extends from the left brow bone to the jawline, while another cuts across the broken bridge of the nose, leaving an irregular notch.

These scars are marks left from his time as an Auror, fighting against dark magic time and time again.

The bright blue magic eye quickly spun around, scanning the street in front of the door, before slowly landing on Dumbledore and Dylan.

I examined it carefully for a full half minute.

Moody finally spoke, his voice still hoarse: "Come in."

Dumbledore and Dylan followed Moody into the house.

The room was indeed simply furnished, with a wooden table by the window and two single sofas next to it.

The sofa cover was dark brown with some wear on the edges, and there were no other decorative items.

On a low cabinet in the center of the room sat a viewing mirror with a copper frame. The mirror surface shimmered with a pale green light, and the base was engraved with tiny defensive runes.

This type of spyglass will immediately sound an alarm once it detects a person with malicious intent approaching.

Dumbledore stepped forward, tapped the frame of the viewing mirror with his finger, and leaned down to carefully examine the light and shadow reflected in the mirror.

The next second, the viewing mirror suddenly started beeping, the sound becoming more and more urgent, and the entire mirror began to vibrate violently, the pale green light flickering on and off.

Albus Dumbledore: "..."

Moody reacted extremely quickly, his oak prosthetic leg tapping crisply on the floor as he instantly took two steps back.

He suddenly drew his wand from his waist, and the silver tip of it instantly lit up.

Pointing directly at Dumbledore and Dylan, his eyes were full of vigilance: "What's going on?!"

"Moody, maybe your endoscope is malfunctioning."

Dylan leaned forward, his shoulder almost touching Dumbledore's arm.

But the viewing mirror still only vibrated towards Dumbledore, not even sparing Dylan a glance.

He tilted his head.

Interesting. Could it be that Professor Dumbledore is hiding something he hasn't said?
Otherwise, why would the spyglass only target him?

“You have to believe me, Alastor.”

Dumbledore gently placed the spyglass on the low cabinet, raised his hands above his head to indicate that he meant no harm.

"I just need to speak with you about something important; I have no other intentions."

"Oh? What is it?"

Moody's hand remained firmly gripping his wand, his brow still furrowed, but the silver light at the tip of the wand was gradually dimming. Dumbledore smiled slowly, lowered his hand, tapped his index finger lightly on the edge of the table, and said in a particularly solemn tone, "I want you to come with me to destroy something."

With a soft "pop," the magical fluctuations dissipated.

Dylan, Dumbledore, and Moody appeared in a place covered with rubble.

The stones underfoot were sharp and angular, some still slippery from being washed by seawater, and you could clearly feel the rough stone surface rubbing against the soles of your shoes when you stepped on them.

As soon as I stood still, a salty sea breeze rushed towards me and entered my nostrils.

The sound of waves crashing against the rocks filled my ears.

The weather seems alright.

But Dylan knew it in his heart.

This is Great Britain, where the weather is always unpredictable.

Maybe in another twenty minutes.

The sky will be completely covered by dark clouds, followed by a sudden downpour.

He stood on a black rock that rose considerably above the sea level. The rock's surface was exceptionally smooth due to years of erosion by seawater.

The waves beneath his feet kept rolling, churning up white foam, and occasionally splashing onto the edge of the rocks, wetting his trouser legs.

Dylan turned to look behind him, where a steep cliff stood, its dark brown rock face extending almost vertically down to the sea.

Many grooves carved out by the sea can still be seen on the rock face.

Several huge rocks were scattered around, bare and exposed on the ground, covered with a thin layer of salt frost.

Judging from their shape and location, they look like they fell off the cliff face a long time ago and crashed heavily onto the beach.

The entire area appeared exceptionally desolate, with only the boundless sea and rocks scattered everywhere.

There wasn't a single tree in sight, nor a trace of grass or sand; only the howling sea wind constantly swept by.

"What do you think of the environment here?" Dumbledore spoke first, his gaze sweeping over the scene before him as he asked calmly.

"What's hidden here?" Moody wondered, glancing around as he unconsciously shifted his feet, his oak prosthetic leg tapping against the rocks.

His eyes were sharp, his gaze constantly wandering among the surrounding rocks and cliff crevices, clearly he was making plans silently.

If a battle were to break out here, which locations would be suitable for concealment, which rocks could serve as cover, and how should the terrain be used to its advantage during an attack?

"There's an orphanage nearby, but what we're looking for shouldn't be there."

"Dumbledore said slowly, his fingertips lightly brushing the salt frost off a rock beside him.

Upon hearing this, Dylan already knew the answer in his heart.

Is Dumbledore bringing them here to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes?
Well.
How did Dumbledore realize that Voldemort might have more than one Horcrux?

Moreover, they even located the exact location?

"Little prophet, why don't you guess where we're hiding what we're looking for?"

Dumbledore suddenly turned to look at Dylan.

"I guess...it's in that cave down there, right?"

As Dylan spoke, he stepped toward the edge of the cliff and stood in a position overlooking the sea.

The rocks at lower elevations have been eroded by the sea for a long time, making them exceptionally smooth, so smooth that they can even reflect blurry human figures.

The cold, salty spray of the sea occasionally splashed up and landed on his cheeks, bringing a touch of coolness.

Following his gaze downwards, there was a dark, cracked opening in the rock face below the cliff.

The edges of the cave entrance were covered with dark green seaweed, and the inside was pitch black, completely swallowing up even the sunlight.

Deep blue seawater kept pouring into the cave entrance, making a "whooshing" sound.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, his white beard trembling slightly with the movement, and his eyes showed a hint of seriousness.

He turned to look at Moody, his tone calm yet carrying a deeper meaning.

“I think so too. Oh, right, Alastor, I forgot to mention—Voldemort’s name when he was young was Tom Riddle, before he turned into the man he is today.”

"When he was a child, he brought several children he had bullied to this place."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the steep rock before him, and continued, "Muggles have no chance of climbing this big rock. There's almost nothing to hold onto on the surface unless you're a seasoned rock climber."

"Otherwise, you'll fall off after climbing halfway. As for boats, they can't get close to the cliff. There are many hidden reefs near the shore, and the waves can splash more than two meters high. Ordinary small boats will be capsized if they get close."

“I can imagine how Riddle got up there back then—magic must have been much more effective than ropes for him; a simple spell was enough to keep him steady.”

"He also brought two children with him, probably because he found it amusing to watch the children trembling with fear on the edge of the cliff. The feeling of being able to control other people's fear was probably particularly attractive to him at the time."

"This must be a very special place for Tom, holding secrets from his childhood."

Dylan stood aside watching Dumbledore, and suddenly understood why Voldemort was so wary of him.

To others, Voldemort was a mysterious and terrifying dark lord.

But Dumbledore had seen him at his most wretched childhood and knew his sordid thoughts hidden in the shadows. It was as if he knew everything about him, and there were no secrets left to him.

If Voldemort were standing here now, hearing Dumbledore's words, he probably wouldn't be able to help but feel flustered.

Dumbledore didn't say anything more about Voldemort, but instead pointed to the edge of the rock beside him, gesturing for Moody to go and take a look.

Moody walked over with his wand and discovered that there were many jagged crevices on the side of the rock.

Some can fit the entire sole of a foot, while others are only big enough for tiptoeing.

These crevices extend down the rock face, leading directly to the giant boulders partially exposed above the sea around the cliff.

The pebbles were dark gray, their surfaces smoothed by the seawater, and covered with dark green seaweed, swaying gently with the rise and fall of the waves.

Dumbledore took the lead, reaching out to hold onto the rock wall, his fingertips gripping the edge of the crevice, his steps steady as he descended through the depressions, his movements far more agile than they appeared.

Finally, he landed on the giant pebble closest to the front of the cliff, leaned forward slightly, and peered into the crack at the bottom of the cliff, his gaze precisely locking onto his target.

“What we’re looking for is inside that crevice!” He pointed to the dark opening, his tone exceptionally certain, and his voice carried through the sea breeze to Moody and Dylan’s ears.

Dylan wanted to collect all of Voldemort's Horcruxes and refine them.

He wasn't trying to forge some kind of Myriad Souls Banner, but rather Voldemort's soul.
Especially Horcruxes, which can't be killed no matter how much magic they use.

Dylan absolutely loves it.

But from where did this old man suddenly find out that Voldemort's Horcrux was here?
It's really strange.

He has destroyed the crown.

He even took away her diary.

Even if Dumbledore knew that Voldemort possessed Horcruxes, he shouldn't have known about other Horcruxes, or their exact locations.

(End of this chapter)