Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 312 You mean... my brother Regulus?

The wizards, who had been running around in chaos, stopped in their tracks and looked up at the pattern in the sky in horror.

It had risen extremely high, its green light piercing the night like a terrifying neon sign.

The light bathed the entire forest in a ghastly white glow, even tinging the tents and trees on the ground with an eerie green hue.

The crowd was thrown into complete panic.

Some people desperately tried to hide in the tent while holding their children, while others were so frightened that they collapsed to the ground, their limbs too weak to stand up.

A wizard pointed at the pattern in the sky, his voice shrill with fear, and shouted, "It's him! He's back! The Death Eaters are back!"

Another, slightly older wizard, his face ashen, his lips trembling, uttered the name that chilled everyone to the bone: "The Dark Mark! It's the Dark Mark!"

These words were like a bomb, exploding instantly in the crowd. More screams and cries rang out, plunging the already chaotic camp into an unprecedented state of panic.

The Quidditch World Cup stadium during a riot.

Dylan, Dumbledore, and Moody were sitting at a round table in the corner, each with a cup of hot tea in front of them.

The bar was quiet, with only the crackling of firewood in the fireplace.

Aberforth wiped the glasses behind the bar, glancing at them from the corner of his eye every now and then.

"I have to go now."

Moody broke the silence first; the cup of black tea in front of him was still steaming, and the tea leaves at the bottom of the cup had not moved at all.

—Clearly, he had no interest in drinking from the moment he sat down.

The old man stood up, leaning on his cane. He subconsciously tapped his not-so-flexible old leg with his left hand, and a slight creaking sound came from his knee.

"I'll go back to my lodgings tonight and rest for the night. Tomorrow morning I'll go check on the Burstd family's whereabouts. They've been too low-key these past few years, abnormally so. I always feel like they're all waiting in the shadows, ready to pop up as soon as Voldemort makes a move."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, his fingertips tracing the rim of the cup: "Be careful, Alastor. Their family has always been adept at hiding their true intentions."

Moody didn't say anything more, just gave a heavy reply, turned and walked to the bar entrance, his figure disappearing in a slight magical fluctuation—he had used Apparition to leave.

After Moody left, Dylan stood up and nodded to Dumbledore: "Professor, I'll head back now. I need to see Sirius tomorrow to learn more about the Black family."

After saying that, he nodded slightly to Aberforth behind the bar, then pushed open the door and left the Pig's Head Bar.

Suddenly, only Dumbledore and his brother remained in the bar.

Aberforth put down his glass and snorted, "You've dragged another child into this mess."

Dumbledore simply smiled and did not respond.

Dylan returned home, but his parents were still not back.

He shook his head helplessly as soon as he opened the door.

Forget it, my father is too old to stay at home.

Once they've grown strong enough, let them go out and fly.

I went to my bedroom.

He summoned the coal briquettes.

As soon as the little guy came out, he took over his bed.

Dylan smiled; he hadn't been idle lately either.

There are so many things to do.

Now he just wants to get some sleep.

He glanced at the two pillows on the bedside table, tossed one to Coal Ball, and told him to use it as a pillow.

He fluffed up his pillow, flopped onto the bed, and the fatigue he had accumulated throughout the day surged up instantly.

After an unknown amount of time, Dylan, in a daze, felt that everything around him had turned pitch black.

The darkness was exceptionally thick, like solidified ink, seeping in from all directions and spreading along his skin.

It even penetrated his nasal cavity, making it increasingly difficult for him to breathe and causing a tightness in his chest.

Just as he was about to suffocate.

A blurry figure suddenly appeared in the darkness.

It was a large, golden snake, its scales gleaming coldly in the dim light.

Its vertical pupils, however, were an eerie blood red, staring intently at him.

In the darkness, the golden serpent slowly began to move, its body nimbly coiling around Dylan's body.

At first, it just gently touched his skin, but the next second, the force of the wrapping became stronger and stronger. The fine scales, carrying an icy chill, rubbed tightly against his arms, chest, and even wrapped around his neck.

Dylan could clearly feel the subtle protrusions at the edges of the scales.

Each time the snake's body contracted, it made it even harder for him to breathe. His chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder, his scalp tingled, and he couldn't even move his fingers.

"Ugh—" He suddenly sat up in bed, his chest heaving violently, and his forehead covered in cold sweat.

The suffocating sensation from before still lingered in his throat, causing him to cough a few times.

"All cleaned up!" Dylan raised his wand and waved it at his pajamas and sheets.

A flash of magical light, and the soaked fabric instantly dried, smoothing out the wrinkles on the sheets.

He turned to look out the window and found that it was already daylight. The sun was slowly rising on the eastern horizon, and golden rays shone into the room through the gaps in the curtains, casting long, thin patches of light on the floor.

Dylan rubbed his heavy eyes and reached for the clothes on the bedside table.

A dark blue wizard's robe with simple embroidered patterns on the cuffs.

"Me? I can't believe I'm having nightmares? That's rare."

Dylan found it strange; he had never had any dreams growing up.

This is especially true after they start school.

Get dressed quickly.

She walked up to the dressing table.

The magic mirror in front of them immediately lit up.

"Look who this is! He's so handsome, every single detail is perfect!"

Dylan smiled. This was the magic mirror he had developed, and he was considering whether to give it to Bogin and his team to sell.

Wave your wand and tap the mirror.

"Shizune."

The magic mirror's voice vanished instantly.

After he created this magic mirror, it has been like this every day, always telling the absolute truth.

Although it sounds pleasant, it is indeed a bit noisy in the morning.

On the dressing table.

Today's Daily Prophet is still on the screen.

Dylan picked up the newspaper and opened it; the headline on the front page was particularly eye-catching.

Disruption erupts at Quidditch World Cup match; Dark Mark appears in night sky.

The article begins with just one sentence, mentioning Ireland's victory.

They said they "won the championship by playing consistently well."

The rest of the text focused on a detailed account of last night's riots, mentioning floating Muggle corpses and the wizards' panic, but remained vague about the specific meaning of the "Dark Mark." Turning to the second page, a report caught his attention.

Hogwarts may be getting a new professor? Dumbledore is interested in inviting former Auror Moody.

The article states that sources have revealed this information.

Dumbledore recently met with former senior Auror Alastor Moody, intending to invite him to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, in order to enhance students' ability to deal with the Dark Arts.

Dylan put down the newspaper and tilted his head.

He walked to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of grayish-white Floo Powder from the box beside him. The powder was fine and slightly cool to the touch.

He took a deep breath, crawled into the fireplace, his feet sinking into the warm ashes, raised the Floo Powder in his hand, and clearly shouted, "Diagon Alley!"

Last night's dream bothered him slightly.

He believed it was not a meaningless fantasy.

Given Voldemort's modus operandi, having been targeted by him so many times, he wouldn't give up easily.

It shouldn't be long before he's resurrected.

However, this was exactly what Dylan had been hoping for.

As for the remaining Horcruxes, he wasn't in a hurry; he would just take them one by one.

Now, he's going to go find Sirius.

But not before that.

Dylan first specifically sought out Bokin to remind him to transfer the production equipment and inventory of XY potions overseas as soon as possible.

He wasn't afraid of Voldemort's resurrection; in fact, he was quite looking forward to it.

Ultimately, once Voldemort is resurrected, he will inevitably take control of the wizarding world's industries. Allowing his subordinates to lay low for a while will minimize their losses.

After all, he can't stay in the factory every day.

After fulfilling the request to transfer the potion.

Dylan then went to Grimmauld Place.

"Huh? Dylan, what brings you here all of a sudden?" Sirius's voice was hoarse from just waking up.

He was still wearing a wrinkled gray pajama, his hair was sticking up in a mess, and his eyes were half open, clearly not fully awake yet.

In fact.

He was still asleep in bed a minute ago when the house-elf Kreacher heard the noise coming from the fireplace, ran to the bedroom door, and woke him up.

Although he was standing in the living room, his consciousness was still in a state between sleep and wakefulness, and even his eyes were somewhat unfocused.

"There's something very serious, Sirius, it concerns whether or not we can defeat Voldemort," Dylan said solemnly.

Upon hearing the words "defeat Voldemort".

Sirius Black seemed to have been doused with cold water, instantly waking up. His eyes widened, and his previously unfocused gaze sharpened.

"Defeat Voldemort?"

The images of the riots following yesterday's Quidditch World Cup final immediately replayed in his mind.

Muggle corpses hanging in mid-air, the arrogant laughter of Death Eaters, the eerie glow of the Dark Mark in the night sky...

And the scene where his best friends, James and his wife, are killed by Voldemort.
Each scene fueled his hatred for that devil.

"Well, that's absolutely true."

Dylan nodded. "Yesterday, Professor Dumbledore, Alastor Moody, and I went to a secluded place and found a clue about Voldemort."

"But now I need to look at your Black family's genealogy to confirm something crucial."

Sirius Black turned and walked towards the stairs, asking in confusion, "Is that so? Where are Professor Dumbledore and Moody? Why didn't they come with us?"

“We’ve found several leads that require us to split up and investigate. Your area is one of them, and it’s relatively safe, so I came here instead.”

Dylan followed behind him and smiled. "And this clue is very likely related to Voldemort's Horcruxes."

"Hornet? What's that?" Sirius paused, turning to look at Dylan with a puzzled expression, clearly having never heard of the term before.

Dylan was somewhat surprised.

He had assumed that the Black family, being an ancient pure-blood family, would have access to this kind of dark magic knowledge.

However, it seems that Sirius Black did not inherit any of the dark secrets of his family.

He stopped and patiently explained, "That's an extremely evil form of black magic."

"Every time a user kills someone, he can use the evil power of the moment of killing to split his own soul, and then attach the split soul to an object."

"This item will possess special magic because it contains a fragment of a soul, thus becoming a Horcrux."

"As long as the Horcrux exists, its owner will never truly die. Even if the body is destroyed, the soul can remain by relying on the Horcrux."

"Moreover, Horcruxes are very difficult to destroy. The only known effective methods, besides the Avada Kedavra and Fiendfyre, are the venom of the Basilisk, which can completely destroy them."

Sirius stood frozen in place, his expression frozen.

Immediately, his brows furrowed tightly, and his hands unconsciously clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white.

He remained silent for a few seconds before squeezing out a sentence through gritted teeth, his tone filled with bitter hatred: "I knew it! That devil couldn't just disappear so easily!"

I calmed down my turbulent emotions.

He looked at Dylan with a puzzled expression: "But what does this Horcrux have to do with our Black family?"

As they spoke, the two had already reached the family tree wall at the far end of the living room.

The wall is made of dark stone with a very smooth surface.

It is carved with dozens of lifelike relief figures, and below each figure, the name and birth and death years are engraved in silver lettering. At a glance, it must be hundreds of years old.

The figures have different expressions, most of them bearing the arrogance characteristic of pure-blood families.

There is a noticeable black hole in the lower row near the corner of the wall.

The surrounding rocks were charred black, with cracks remaining on the edges from the heat.

Sirius pointed to the black hole and shrugged casually, "That used to be where I was carved."

“It was probably when I broke with my family that my mother destroyed it with magic, and they expelled me from the family—but I never really cared about that anyway.”

His tone seemed relaxed, but a subtle, complex emotion flickered in his eyes.

Dylan's gaze did not linger on the black hole, but instead fell upon a young man's statue next to it.

He was a boy of about seventeen or eighteen, with neatly combed black hair, wearing a crisp black wizard's robe, and a slightly serious expression.

The silver lettering below clearly reads: “Regulus Arcturus Black”.

"That's him, there's no mistake."

Dylan suddenly spoke, pointing his finger at the young man's statue.

Sirius looked at him with a puzzled expression: "Why?"

Dylan didn't keep anyone in suspense and immediately gave a brief account of yesterday's experience.

He went to the island in the middle of the lake with Dumbledore and Moody, found the stone basin containing the emerald green potion, and after the infernal drank the potion, they found an empty locket with a note inside that was signed "RAB".

"You mean...my brother Regulus?"

Sirius's eyes widened suddenly, and he involuntarily took a half step back, his face filled with disbelief. "He destroyed Voldemort's Horcrux?"

(End of this chapter)