Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 325 Beauxbatons and Durmstrang
The last rays of the setting sun's orange hue were devoured by the biting cold, and the sky quickly darkened as if soaked in ink, blurring even the outline of the distant forbidden forest into a deep black.

The students had already lined up in the lobby, and the deans of the four colleges, along with the class leaders, were checking their appearance one by one.

Professor McGonagall gently smoothed the Gryffindor student's crooked tie with her wand.

Snape frowned, his gaze sweeping over the gaudy badges hanging on the Gryffindor students' chests, a gesture that seemed to be a silent warning.

Professor Flitzer stood on tiptoe to help the Ravenclaw student straighten his crooked glasses.

Professor Sprout gently reminded the Hufflepuff students to tuck their stray hairs behind their ears and repeatedly emphasized that they were not allowed to wear earrings that could light up and that they should maintain a dignified appearance.

When a sliver of the moon finally peeked out from above the Forbidden Forest, casting a soft silver glow, the students, led by their teachers, left the castle.

On October 30th, the Scottish Highlands were already shrouded in the chill of late autumn.

As soon as I stepped out of the castle gate, a cold wind swept by, carrying withered leaves and the desolate scent of grass and trees, making my cheeks sting.

Many students subconsciously tucked their chins into their collars, tucked their hands into their sleeves or clasped them in front of their chests, and even exhaled a puff of white breath.

Even so, no one was willing to look away.

They stood in neat rows, their eyes darting back and forth between the sky, the Forbidden Forest, and the Black Lake.

Some people looked up at the clear night sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of a flying carriage or a swarm of brooms.

Some people gazed at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, wondering if a vehicle pulled by a magical creature would emerge.

Some people were staring at the surface of the Black Lake, trying to find the faint light of ships underwater. Even the usual minor frictions between Gryffindor and Slytherin were temporarily put aside.

Dylan looked at Hermione beside him and saw that she also looked curious and that her scarf was not covering her neck properly, so he reached out and pulled the wool scarf around her neck tighter.

It was a red scarf embroidered with an apple pattern, which Dylan had knitted himself—yes, with magic.

It was given to Hermione as a gift.

As soon as it gets cold, she takes it out and puts it on.

"Are you cold?" Dylan asked.

"I'm not cold." Hermione shook her head gently and breathed on her reddened hands.

"See, this way it's even less cold."

"Okay, fine."

Dylan shrugged, but didn't use any warming spells or magic on her.

Hermione's gaze fell on the scarf around Dylan's neck, the one she had given her before. Seeing that Dylan was wearing it too, her eyes sparkled.

“I haven’t asked you before, but how is this scarf for you? Is it comfortable? The scarf you gave me is very warm. When I was knitting this for you, I thought it should at least keep out the cold wind.”

Dylan nodded: "It's very warm. Actually, I wasn't planning on celebrating my birthday. It's kind of you to always remember my birthday and give me gifts."

After saying this, Dylan's gaze swept around, patiently waiting.

The night grew even darker.

There was still no movement in front of the castle. The tense queue gradually relaxed a little, and whispers slowly began to emerge.

Michael from Ravenclaw looked up at the sky for a long time, yawned with white puffs of steam, leaned close to Terry's ear, and whispered, "I bet Beauxbatons will be the first to arrive."

“Not necessarily.” Terry pushed up his glasses and looked in the direction of Black Lake. “Beauxbatons should be here soon too.”

Anthony immediately chimed in, "I think it's Beauxbatons! Their flying carriages are so conspicuous, you can see them from far away, they definitely won't try to be discreet."

"Then I have no choice but to choose Durmstrang."

Another Ravenclaw student shrugged. "I heard their boats can sail underwater. They're probably already in the Black Lake, just waiting for the right time to surface."

The whispers grew quieter and quieter, and even Hufflepuff students started making bets in hushed tones.

Not to mention Gryffindor, Dylan's ears were practically going to explode from the noise.

However, he doesn't dislike this kind of atmosphere.

Regardless, he is still a student.

Campus life doesn't necessarily have to be colorful, but the time you can spend doing activities with your classmates is really limited.

So now he suddenly feels that he should cherish this time, lest he become so immersed in his research after graduation that he loses all sense of the world around him.

At this moment, only the Slytherin line remained relatively quiet, but many people's eyes could not hide the same expectation.

Harry and his friends also finalized their upcoming schools, arguing among themselves about whose guess was more accurate.

Dylan and Hermione did not join the discussion.

Hermione stood next to Dylan.

Even when the cold wind swept across my face with withered leaves, I didn't feel cold at all.

"Why is there still no movement?" someone in the queue couldn't help but complain quietly, stomping their feet lightly on the ground to keep warm.

"Maybe they're planning a big surprise, like the Quidditch World Cup final, with the mascot appearing on stage?" someone nearby immediately chimed in, their eyes full of anticipation.

The whispers had just become more frequent.

At the same time, a large dark shadow suddenly appeared in the distant night sky.

The shadowy figure was enormous, its undulating outline faintly visible in the moonlight, with tiny specks of light embedded within it, like scattered stardust, as it slowly moved toward the castle.

Dumbledore's gaze immediately fell on the dark figure. He stroked his silver beard and said loudly, "Children, be quiet—they're here!"

The dark shape moved with incredible speed, hurtling straight toward Hogwarts Castle, the air currents it created even stirring up the withered grass on the ground.

"Our friends from Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have arrived!" Dumbledore's voice rang out at the opportune moment, accompanied by a gentle smile.

The dark shadow quickly swept past the treetops of the forbidden forest, and the students finally saw its appearance clearly.

It was a pale blue flying carriage, incredibly large, almost the size of Hagrid's hut. The carriage walls were carved with intricate patterns that gleamed softly in the moonlight, making it look as if it had been custom-made for a giant.

The carriage was pulled by four giant silver-maned horses, each almost as tall as an elephant at the shoulder. Their silvery-white manes fluttered in the wind, and when their hooves touched the air, they would leave behind shimmering spots of light.

The carriage made a rumbling sound as it flew, like distant thunder, and the sound gradually subsided as it slowly landed on the grass in front of the castle.

The school crest of Beauxbatons is inlaid in the center of the carriage door.

The two golden wands are crossed in an "X" shape, with three silver stars emerging from the tips of each wand, simple yet exquisite.

The students at Beauxbatons wore light blue silk robes, the thin fabric of which offered little protection against the chill of late autumn.

The carriage door slowly opened, and the first student to peek out shivered as soon as he came into contact with the cold air outside, his shoulders instinctively shrinking.

He quickly regained his balance, bent down and felt around on the floor of the carriage for a moment, and pulled out a folding golden staircase.

The staircase unfolded and landed smoothly, its steps engraved with the same patterns as those on a carriage. When a black high-heeled shoe adorned with pearls stepped onto the first step, the Hogwarts students all gasped in unison.

A woman with a figure comparable to Hagrid stepped out of the carriage, her long, dark blue velvet dress trailing behind her, the hem embroidered with silver star patterns.

Despite her unusually tall stature, she was remarkably beautiful, with a touch of authority in her eyes; she was none other than Mrs. Maxim, the headmaster of Beauxbatons.

Dumbledore stepped forward, gracefully kissed her hand, and said with a gentle gaze, "Dear Mrs. Maxim, a warm welcome to Hogwarts."

Because Mrs. Maxim was so tall, he didn't even need to bend over when he bowed; a slight bow of his head was enough.

“Dumbledore, I hope you are well.” Mrs. Maxime’s voice was deep and magnetic as she casually asked, “We shouldn’t be the last to arrive, should we?”

“Demstrang should be arriving soon,” Dumbledore replied with a smile, stroking his beard. “They’re coming by water, and it’s normal for them to encounter some troubles like storms along the way, which would delay them a bit.”

Mrs. Maxim nodded, then raised her hand and waved into the carriage, raising her voice slightly: "Children, come down."

The students of Beauxbatons disembarked from the carriage one after another. Like the students who got off first, they couldn't help but shiver as soon as they came into contact with the cold wind, their hands tightly wrapped inside their robes.

Dumbledore clearly noticed this and quickly said, "Let's hurry into the castle. There's a fire in the Great Hall; it will be much warmer."

“That would be wonderful.” Mrs. Maxim nodded in agreement, but her gaze shifted to the four silver-maned horses, her tone tinged with worry. “It’s just that my horses… they’re not used to the cold.”

"Don't worry," Dumbledore reassured with a smile. "Our school's Professor Hagrid, who teaches the Conservation of Magical Creatures, is very experienced. He will take good care of these precious horses and make sure they can rest in warm stables."

“They’re quite strong.” Mrs. Maxim frowned slightly, her gaze returning to the silver-maned horses, her worry undiminished. She added, “It takes someone strong enough to really take care of them; an ordinary person simply can’t hold the reins.”

“Of course, no problem!” Dumbledore nodded immediately, his tone very confident. “I assure you, Hagrid is absolutely capable of this job.”

"He has been dealing with all sorts of magical creatures for many years and has amazing strength. He was able to take care of even a giant spider before, so he is perfect for taking care of a few horses."

“That’s wonderful.” Mrs. Maxim’s gloomy expression vanished. She gave a slight bow to express her gratitude, and then added, “Please tell Hagrid that these horses only drink single malt whisky and will not touch any other beverages.”

"They want to drink single malt whisky too?" Ron stared at the divine rune horses, his brows furrowed, his tone full of doubt. "These horses are too picky, they even want to drink strong liquor."

“They are Pegasus,” Dylan’s voice rang out at the right moment, explaining, “They are a very famous breed of Pegasus, and there is a special chapter about them in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.”

He paused, recalling the contents of the book, and added, "In ancient Greece, there was a wizard named Bellerophon who rode a Pegasus and killed a chimera. The breed of that Pegasus has always been a subject of debate."

"Some say it is the Divine Horse, while others believe it is another type of Pegasus called Iseron, but the Divine Horse's fondness for strong liquor is generally acknowledged."

Perhaps due to the advantage of her height in terms of visibility, Mrs. Maxime stopped abruptly as she led the Beauxbatons students past the Ravenclaw line.

She glanced down at the queue, her gaze finally settling on Dylan, and nodded slightly as if to greet him.

Noticing the principal's action, a Beauxbatons student at the end of the line stopped and looked at Dylan in the direction of Mrs. Maxim's gaze.

He was wrapped in a thick, light blue silk robe, his chin buried in the collar, with only his eyes showing.

“Merlin’s pantyhose!” George stared in the direction of the student, his voice becoming muffled. “She must be a pretty girl.”

"How did you figure it out?" Fred leaned closer, looking puzzled. "She was wrapped up so tightly, even her hair was hidden in the hood, you couldn't see her face at all."

“Rely on my intuition!” George was very certain, his eyes still fixed in that direction. “I just made eye contact with her, and her eyes are exceptionally beautiful, as bright as sapphires. There’s no mistake.”

He suddenly realized something, turned sharply to look at Dylan, and asked with curiosity, "Dylan, do you know someone from Beauxbatons?"

Fred and the others nodded in agreement.
There seemed to be no public interaction between Beauxbatons and Dylan, and they couldn't understand why Mrs. Maxime would specifically greet him.

The group turned their gazes toward Dylan, their eyes filled with doubt, waiting for his answer.

Dylan noticed the questioning looks from the crowd, looked up at them, and said calmly, "It's nothing. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore has already introduced me to everyone."

"Huh? You can get this kind of treatment?" George said with envy.

“Dylan!” George took a half step forward, his tone urgent as if afraid of missing something. “What about that Beauxbatons student who was looking at you earlier? Have you seen her before? Have you ever interacted with her?”

“No,” Dylan answered crisply. “How could I possibly know them?”

"Sigh!" George sighed heavily, his face full of regret, his shoulders slumping. "What a pity... but I'm absolutely sure that girl was incredibly charming, just those eyes alone..."

Before he could finish speaking, a strange roar suddenly came from the distant Black Lake.

The voice was deep and murky, as if something huge was churning underwater, and it instantly drowned out George's voice.

The calm lake surface was suddenly torn apart, and a giant whirlpool immediately appeared in the center of the lake. The lake water spun and sank, and the splashing water rose more than half a meter high.

"It sounds like... the sound of a toilet flushing?" Fred frowned, his tone full of uncertainty. He was immediately glared at by Ron as soon as he finished speaking.

“Shut up!” Ron protested, covering his ears. “Now that you’ve said that, I’ll never be able to take a peaceful walk by Black Lake again!”

Not only him, but the students around him who heard this also joined in the protest.

Some people frowned and waved their hands, some laughed and complained, "Fred, stop talking!", and some deliberately imitated the sound of pumping water to amuse themselves, briefly breaking the previous seriousness.

Fortunately, the strange noise didn't last long. Just as the whirlpool was spinning most rapidly, a rusty mast suddenly emerged from the water.

The gurgling sound of water then subsided.

As more ships surfaced, the roaring sound, like a flushing toilet, finally disappeared completely.

It was a large, magical ship exuding a sinister aura.

An eerie green light shone through the misty porthole, flickering like the eyes of a creature lurking in the deep sea.

Large patches of black paint had peeled off the hull, revealing the rotten wood beneath, making it look like a ghost ship just salvaged from the seabed.

It stirred up layers of waves on the lake surface and sped towards the shore, the sound of the boat cutting through the water sharp and piercing.

When the large ship finally came to a smooth stop at the shore, there was another loud "whoosh".

The heavy iron chains dragged across the deck, sparks flying as they scraped against the wood, before the giant anchor slammed onto the muddy lakeshore with a thud, making the ground tingle slightly.

Immediately afterwards, a large wooden plank was lowered from the side of the boat and placed steadily on the shore, forming a simple pier.

Durmstrang's school uniform looked excessively thick.

From a distance, their robes looked as if they were made of thick wool, with thick fur sewn onto the collars and cuffs, and even their hats had furry edges.

As soon as the wooden plank bridge was secured, Durmstrang's teachers and students began to step onto the lake shore.

Each of them was wrapped in a large fur cloak, the fur mostly a mix of dark brown and charcoal black, the hairs tangled and piled up in layers on their shoulders, with even the edges of the cloaks having tassels half a hand's length hanging down.

When the wind blows, the fluffy feathers sway gently, and you can clearly see the fine down underneath. Just looking at them makes you feel warm and cozy.

These cloaks were already made of thick material, and when wrapped around their bodies, they made their figures appear even more robust, making their already tall silhouettes appear even wider, and giving them a heavy sense of oppression as they walked in the procession.

“My God, this cloak looks so warm, it’s at least ten times thicker than our school robes.” Ron stared at the furs and whispered to Harry.

Harry nodded, his eyes still searching for the figure of the girl from Beauxbatons, and casually added, "It's not just warm, the fur looks so thick, I bet even the wind can't get in."

(End of this chapter)