Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 309 Where did the Horcrux go?
As soon as Dumbledore finished speaking, he picked up the silver cup beside him.

He took it out of his cloth bag; the cup was engraved with tiny patterns.

He first poured about half a cup of the potion into the glass, and the pale pink liquid swirled gently at the bottom.

He then reached out to scoop the emerald green potion from the stone basin, his palm almost touching the surface of the liquid.

Just then, Dylan reached out and pressed down on Dumbledore's shoulder.

With his other hand, he gripped Dumbledore's wrist tightly, so tightly that Dumbledore paused slightly.

"Professor, we shouldn't be so rash."

Dylan smiled and looked at Dumbledore, "We have no way of knowing exactly what effect this potion will have, what if..."

"I mean, in case something happens to you after you drink it, and Hogwarts is without you to lead the way, I think the entire wizarding world will probably fall into chaos."

Dumbledore also glanced at Dylan.

They weren't trying to persuade me just now, so why are they trying to persuade me again?

Looking at his wrist being gripped, Old Deng sighed softly and turned his gaze to the stone basin: "But this potion can't wait, look carefully."

He gestured for Dylan to look at the edge of the stone basin.

The emerald green liquid was slowly seeping out, flowing gently along the patterns on the stone basin.

It evaporated quickly after falling onto the stone slab, leaving a faint green trace.

“It’s leaking out automatically. If we wait any longer, the Horcrux might disappear along with the potion. Someone has to drink it now.”

"Actually, there are other people who can give it a try."

Dylan did not let go.

Dumbledore frowned, thinking he was going to insist on doing it himself: "You? No, I've already said it, your future..."

"Of course it wasn't me either."

Dylan interrupted him, turning his gaze to the lake beside the island.

The pitch-black lake water was like solidified ink, and even green light could only illuminate a shallow layer on the surface.

"I'm talking about the Yin Corpses. Aren't there many Yin Corpses in the lake?"

"A corpse?"

Dumbledore paused for a second, then shook his head, tapping the edge of the stone basin lightly with his fingers, his tone full of consideration, "I'm afraid that won't work, Dylan. Think carefully about the obstacles Voldemort has designed along this route."

"The stone wall we were in before required blood to open, the purpose of which was to weaken our bodies."

"The small boat that crosses the lake requires a lot of magic to carry two people, in order to deplete our magical reserves."

"At this stage, he will inevitably target the soul."

He paused, his gaze drifting to the faint black shadows beneath the lake's surface: "But the souls of the Yin Corpses are incomplete. Their souls are forcibly locked within their bodies by dark magic, unable to dissipate naturally or perceive anything normally. They can only act on instinct. I highly doubt whether this potion can be absorbed by them."

"If we just pour the potion into their mouths, it's probably no different from just dumping it on the ground. The potion will eventually flow back into the stone basin or dissipate along with the Horcrux, so it won't have any effect at all."

"It's right not to make unnecessary sacrifices, but how can you be sure if it 'works' without trying it?"

Dylan’s tone was decisive and unquestionable. He released Dumbledore’s wrist and turned to walk toward the edge of the island.

Dumbledore wanted to say something more, but then he saw Dylan squat down, extend his right hand, and gently touch the water on the lake with his fingertips.

The lake water was icy cold; the moment it touched the skin, it sent a shiver down one's spine.

But Dylan was already used to it.

"Wow--"

A violent commotion immediately came from underwater, as if something was swimming rapidly.

Immediately afterwards, several pale corpses crawled out of the lake.

At the front was an old man with a face full of wrinkles, lips that had long turned purple, and tattered clothes that clung tightly to his body, covered with silt from the bottom of the lake.

A woman followed behind, her hair wet and stuck to her cheeks, her hands still in a scratching motion.

Finally, there was a child, his small body curled up, his fingers tightly gripping a piece of broken wood. He had obviously tried to grab onto the driftwood to survive when he sank into the lake, but ended up as a corpse.

Dylan stared at the undead for a moment.

The clothes they wear are the style of those worn by Muggles.

They were clearly Muggle residents from the neighborhood.

After their deaths, instead of finding peace, they were turned into Infernals by Voldemort using dark magic and trapped in the lake forever, where even death became a torment.

Dylan's gaze swept over the few undead that had just climbed ashore.

Finally, it landed on the old man-like corpse at the very front.

He raised his wand, and a faint holy light immediately swirled around its tip, the light shimmering clearly in the darkness.

Old Deng glanced at it with great interest.

The next second, these rays of light slowly left the wand, winding and coiling towards the old man's corpse as if they were alive.

The radiance did not cause any damage to the corpse's body; it merely wrapped tightly around its limbs and torso, firmly imprisoning it in place.

The old man's corpse, entangled in holy light, instantly lost the ability to struggle and remained motionless on the shore.

Dylan manipulated the holy light, gently lifting the corpse from the lakeshore, suspending it in mid-air above the water.

Just then, a muffled "hoarse" sound suddenly came from the bottom of the lake, like countless people screaming in pain underwater.

Immediately afterwards, the entire lake surface began to shake violently, and countless arms of the undead corpses stretched out from the dark lake water, twisting and scratching wildly.

Some of the undead had even half their bodies above the water, seemingly enraged by the commotion of their companions being captured, and were trying to break through the water and surge toward Dylan.

Dylan's eyes turned cold, he snorted, and suddenly swung his wand downwards.

In an instant.

Countless rays of divine light surged from the tip of the wand, spreading rapidly across the lake near the island like a surging tide.

The pure white light clusters intertwined and surged wildly on the water's surface, turning the once calm black water into a boiling nuclear explosion site.

Each ray of light that falls creates a ripple on the water's surface.

Any corpse that attempts to cross the radiant barrier and approach the island will be instantly entangled upon contact with the holy light.

The originally pale body would immediately turn as black as charcoal under the impact of the light.

The skin surface was covered with fine cracks, and some of the corpses even made a dull cracking sound when the first ray of light hit them.

Struck by subsequent beams of light, its entire body disintegrated into several pieces, falling back to the bottom of the lake and remaining motionless thereafter.

"Professor, I've brought over a corpse."

As Dylan manipulated the Holy Light to ensure the old man's corpse remained firmly bound and immobilized without harming its body, he turned to Dumbledore and spoke.

His gaze swept over the shattered corpses on the lake: "I think that once these corpses are completely destroyed, their fragmented souls will be freed, and perhaps they will even thank me."

As he spoke, Dylan stepped forward, waved his wand, and magic gently pried open the old man's tightly closed mouth.

He then looked at Dumbledore, indicating that the old man could begin feeding him the potion.

He knew very well that these infernal corpses had been treated by Voldemort using extremely cruel dark magic.

They were killed before they were born, and their bodies had already begun to decay.

However, a fragment of the soul was forcibly locked inside the body by dark magic, unable to leave.

These undead can only watch helplessly as their bodies are transformed into monsters, unable to control any of their movements.

The remaining consciousness, having lost the protection of its body, was constantly eroded and tormented by the cold aura and dark magical energy in the lake.

For them, every extra second of existence is unbearable suffering.

From the moment they were turned into Infernals by Voldemort, their fate was sealed, and they had no choice in the matter.

He was very familiar with this process.

Because he also bound a group of Yin Corpses.

However, unlike these corpses, he mostly cultivated cockroach corpses or rats.

"It's time to start."

Dylan, still holding the indestructible's mouth open, nodded to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore immediately picked up the silver cup he had prepared earlier and scooped out some more emerald green potion from the stone basin.

Then, he carefully brought the cup to the old man's corpse's mouth and slowly poured the potion into it, while whispering the incantation.

Ensure the potion enters the corpse smoothly without being choked out.

The emerald green potion slid down the corpse's throat into its intestines and eventually into its stomach.

Almost the instant the potion entered his body, the old man's corpse began to tremble violently.

His limbs twitched incessantly under the confinement of the holy light, as if he were enduring extreme pain. Even his originally lifeless eyes began to move slightly.

It seems that the fragmented soul within the body is undergoing a tremendous shock and may collapse at any moment.

Dylan and Dumbledore stared intently at the stone basin.

The emerald green potion in the basin did not increase at all; instead, it continued to slowly dissipate as before.

This scene clearly demonstrates that the bodies of the undead can absorb this emerald green potion, and their attempts were not in vain.

Seeing that the emerald green potion in the stone basin hadn't flowed back, Dumbledore and Dylan both unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief.
No one needs to risk suffering from the torment of the potion anymore. If the problem can be solved with the corpse, there's no need to make real people take the risk.

"Keep pouring."

Dumbledore spoke first, picking up the silver cup and scooping the potion out of the stone basin once more.

"Then go ahead and do it, Professor."

Dylan responded, still using magic to hold the old man's corpse's head in place, ensuring it wouldn't sway away from the cup as it trembled.

Cup after cup of emerald green potion was slowly poured into the mouth of the corpse.

Each time the potion was administered, the corpse's body would tremble violently, as if the tattered soul within it was being repeatedly torn apart by the potion.

Dylan glanced at the occasional glimmer of pain in the corpse's eyes and turned his head away.

Dumbledore noticed it too, and his movements as he scooped the medicine paused several times, his eyes filled with hesitation, and for a moment he even considered giving up on this method.

But when the two saw that there was only one cup of potion left in the stone basin, they gritted their teeth and poured the last bit of potion into the corpse's mouth.

As soon as the potion was poured in, the outline of a metal object was revealed at the bottom of the stone basin.

It was a pendant box, its surface engraved with intricate patterns, lying quietly at the bottom of the stone basin.

Dumbledore's eyes lit up instantly. He immediately put down his cup, carefully reached out, and took the locket out of the stone basin.

But as soon as he grasped the locket, his brows furrowed tightly, and his fingers rubbed the surface of the locket repeatedly. The joy on his face was gradually replaced by doubt.

"wrong."

Dumbledore's voice carried a hint of disappointment as he looked up at Dylan. "I didn't sense any dark magic aura on it, let alone the fluctuations characteristic of Horcruxes. I'm afraid... we've fallen into Voldemort's trap."

Dylan silently raised his wand, and a ball of orange-red flame ignited at the tip, slowly enveloping the old man's corpse.

As the flames burned, the corpse's body gradually turned to ashes, and a faint, translucent wisp of soul floated out from the ashes.

A faint smile appeared on the soul's face before it gradually dissipated into the air, finding complete liberation.

Dylan stared in the direction where the soul had vanished, remained silent for a few seconds, and then turned to Dumbledore, saying, "Even if it's not a Horcrux, let's open it and take a look."

"Maybe there are some clues hidden inside. Voldemort went to so much trouble to set up these checkpoints; he couldn't have just been trying to trick us into making this trip."

Dumbledore didn't act immediately. He took the locket, first scanning it twice with his wand, then sniffing it closely. After repeatedly confirming that there were no hidden spells or dangerous mechanisms, he still cautiously instructed Dylan.

"Take a few steps back and get some distance away."

After saying that, he raised the Elder Wand and gently lifted the clasp of the locket with the tip of the wand, while whispering the incantation "Protect Your Body," preparing to deal with any unexpected situation.

The anticipated danger did not materialize. The clasp on the locket was easily opened, revealing an empty box with only a neatly folded piece of paper at the bottom.

It is indeed just an ordinary locket box, with nothing special about it.

Dumbledore took out the note and slowly unfolded it.

The note had a few lines of writing on it in ink, the handwriting somewhat messy.

"To the Dark Lord:
By the time you read these words, I will no longer be alive.

But I must let you know that I discovered your secret—

The secret to your split soul and creation of Horcruxes.

I have stolen the real Horcrux and will find a way to destroy it as soon as possible.

I am willing to die, for one purpose only.

I hope that when you encounter a true adversary in the future, you will be utterly defeated and never again be able to harm the world.

Dumbledore handed the note to Dylan and had him read it carefully.

He then sighed softly, his tone full of helplessness: "It seems our trip was in vain. More importantly, we have no way of knowing whether this person actually succeeded in destroying the real Horcrux..."

Dylan took the note, glanced at it briefly, and said, "Judging from his tone, this person calls Voldemort the Dark Lord, so he is very likely a Death Eater."

"And someone who knows Voldemort's secret is likely someone who was once deeply trusted by Voldemort, and is most likely a member of a pure-blood family with a strong background."

(End of this chapter)