Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

“I remember now!” Harry quickly chimed in, his eyes brightening, clearly unwilling to be outdone by Draco. “The first test in previous Triwizard Tournaments seems to have mostly been related to extremely high-level dangerous creatures. I’ve seen it in old books in the library before.”

“Yes, that’s definitely key information.” Dylan nodded in agreement, his tone approving. “Do you remember the instructions Crouch gave us yesterday? What exactly did he say?”

Harry tilted his head and thought for a moment, then tentatively said, "He seemed to mention that preparations had been made, but due to changes in the number of warriors, the program needed to be readjusted."

"So—" Draco's eyes narrowed, and he immediately realized, "the most likely direction of the adjustment is to change the number of Level 5X dangerous creatures? For example, originally planning to have one, but now increasing it to multiple?"

“That’s what I’m thinking too.” Dylan smiled. “I once read a sentence in the Wizarding Risk Assessment Handbook: fear often stems from the unknown. If we understand what we might be facing, we’ll have less to worry about. Even if the tribunal hasn’t notified us yet, we can make some preparations in advance.”

"For example, gathering information on all Level 5X dangerous creatures?" Harry continued, his tone no longer filled with confusion but with more certainty. "Find out their habits, weaknesses, and the spells to deal with them."

“We need to get Diggory involved too,” Draco added, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to recall. “I remember his father worked at the Ministry of Magic, something like… the Division for the Control of Magical Creatures? Yes, that should be it. Maybe we can get some inside information.”

“Yes, that’s right. We need to get him in touch with his father more often.” Dylan narrowed his eyes. “Cedric is also a Hogwarts champion. More people mean more strength. Just now, I had been thinking about this for a long time, but we sorted it out in a few words. More people always mean more solutions.”

Dylan glanced at Malfoy.

If this guy didn't cause trouble every day, he'd just be an ordinary kid.

“Then I’ll go find Cedric!” Harry said immediately, somewhat eagerly, clearly impatient to get started. “That way, the four of us can work together to come up with a solution, and dividing the tasks will definitely be more efficient!”

“I’ll write home and ask them to help me find some rare information,” Draco quickly added, afraid of falling behind. “My father knows many collectors in the magical world; maybe he can find a rare, out-of-print encyclopedia.”

Dylan looked at the two of them and couldn't help but laugh.

Although their dark circles were still quite noticeable, the worry between their brows had mostly dissipated, replaced by a spirit of eager anticipation.

"Then I'll be in charge of spending time in the library and finding basic information."

He smiled and nodded, "There are many types of Level 5X dangerous creatures. We can collect them separately, with each person responsible for a few types, which will save time."

He paused, then added, "Once everyone has gathered enough information, we'll find a time when everyone is free, such as during our evening rest time, to compile the data together and supplement each other's information. This way, we can definitely take all possible scenarios into account."

Harry and Draco walked away with noticeably lighter steps.

Harry practically jogged toward Hufflepuff, while Draco, no longer gloomy, straightened his back and strode quickly toward the Owl's Hut, his back exuding a brisk and efficient air.

Dylan turned and walked towards the library. Just as he rounded the corner of the corridor, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure.

Dumbledore was carrying something in his arms, and his movements were so agile that he didn't seem like an old man. With a light leap, he stepped over a half-open door.

As soon as he landed, the door spun rapidly, and in the blink of an eye, it transformed back into a landscape painting depicting the Scottish moors, with even the dust on the frame exactly the same as before.

This is clearly a secret passage that has never been marked on the Marauder's Map.

Dylan understood.

Similar to the prefectural head's restroom, it was a secret passage reserved for the "principal's use".

Sirius and Lupin were just students back then, so they naturally wouldn't have had the opportunity to come into contact with places that only the headmaster knew about, which makes it reasonable that they weren't recorded on the map.

Dumbledore had obviously seen him too, turned around and waved in his direction with his usual gentle smile.

Dylan stepped forward and saw that he was holding a small silver tray with several cakes neatly arranged on it, emitting a sweet aroma.

In her other hand, she was holding half a piece of cream, with cream dripping slightly down her fingers.

Judging from its lemon-yellow color and the frosting on the surface, it must be a lemon cake that the kitchen produces in limited quantities each day.

"Good morning, Headmaster Dumbledore." Dylan quickened his pace to greet him.

"Good morning, Dylan. Would you like a slice?" Dumbledore shook the tray in his arms and deliberately pushed it forward, the aroma of the cake growing stronger. "It's freshly baked in the kitchen, still piping hot."

“Thank you, but no need.” Dylan waved his hand with a smile, his gaze falling on the tray. “Did your referee meeting last night go very late?”

“It’s not too late in my opinion.” Dumbledore shook his head, a smile in his eyes as he recalled the event. “But it must have been an ordeal for Mr. Bagman. He dozed off at least two or three times in his armchair while we were discussing the proposal.”

He took a bite of cake, not caring about the cream on his lips, and continued, "But he's very alert. As soon as our conversation quiets down a little, he immediately wakes up and asks seriously, 'Where were we?' That's quite a skill."

Dylan struggled to keep a straight face and didn't laugh out loud. He blinked and suppressed his laughter as he asked, "So, you and the other principals have already come up with a project plan?"

"There's a result, but—" Dumbledore deliberately dragged out his words, stuffing the remaining half of the cake into his mouth, chewing it slowly, a hint of mystery in his eyes.

"Is it because of the magical contract with the tribunal that we can't reveal it beforehand?" Dylan chimed in at the opportune moment, nodding in understanding, and then steered the conversation further, "What happened last night, in the end, should just have been an accident, right?"

The two turned side by side into a quiet corridor, and Dumbledore called out clearly to the gargoyle sculpture crouching against the wall, "Sugar Lemon Cake!"

The gargoyle immediately retracted its large stone wings, nimbly leaped to the side, revealing the spiral staircase hidden behind it.

"You think it was an accident?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically, picking up another piece of cake and taking a big bite. He squinted his eyes in satisfaction, oblivious to the cream stains on his beard.

They slowly ascended the spiral staircase, and Dylan shared his speculation as they went: "I think Mr. Karkaroff's Confusion Charm was more like a mistake made in a moment of panic."

"Remember the Horcrux we found before? Maybe Voldemort has already been resurrected."

Dylan raised an eyebrow: "I specifically looked for Harry and checked the Marauder's Map. Voldemort's name wasn't on it, and I didn't find a second Barty Crouch either."

After saying this, he quickly walked up two steps and reached out to open the principal's office door.

The room was empty; Phoenix Fox wasn't on its perch, and Dylan guessed it had probably gone out to forage.

For the phoenix, fresh berries glistening with morning dew are a rare delicacy. "To be honest, it's good to have such a map and such a meticulous user like you." Dumbledore placed the tray on the corner of the desk, picked up a tissue, and wiped his mouth. "If I were someone with ulterior motives, I would probably have to think twice before stepping into Hogwarts."

Hearing this, he turned around and looked at Dumbledore: "You mean... Barty Crouch Jr. has found Voldemort? That's why the Death Eaters disappeared from the map and hid in a more secret place?"

“Yes…” Dumbledore nodded slowly, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the desk. His eyes lost their previous gentleness and became more serious. “They have successfully reunited on September 1st—the day we start school.”

"After Barty Crouch Jr. and Voldemort met up, did they go to other magical worlds?" Dylan immediately followed this lead. "Could they have gone to Durmstrang? Headmaster Dumbledore, do you think we should immediately notify the local Ministry of Magic and have them launch a search?"

He has recently received a lot of information from his subordinates.

Many Death Eaters are being recruited by a certain person.

However, many Death Eaters, or rather, dark wizards, are unwilling to follow in someone's footsteps again.

Because they now have a new demon king to worship.

Karkaroff, having previously escaped due trial by offering a pledge of allegiance, fled the English wizarding world overnight, clearly fearing retaliation from other Death Eaters.

No one expected that after so many years, he would transform into the principal of Durmstrang.

If Voldemort wanted to restart his plans, Durmstrang would undoubtedly be the perfect stronghold.

This school is unique in that it never admits Muggle students, and it doesn't even have a Defense Against the Dark Arts course. Instead, it lists Dark Arts as a formal course, allowing students to systematically learn spells that are taboo in other schools.

After this process of sorting things out, Dylan understood.

For Voldemort, who has become even more cunning, places like Durmstrang are a natural hiding place and a breeding ground for expanding his power.

He asked Old Deng this question to see his attitude.

“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy.” Dumbledore shook his head slightly, picked up the last piece of cake on the tray, but did not eat it. He just twirled it gently on his finger. “You should know Durmstrang’s style of doing things, right? He doesn’t accept Muggle-born people and openly teaches dark magic.”

"I understand."

Dylan nodded as if suddenly realizing something. "If Voldemort really settles down in Durmstrang, perhaps the local Ministry of Magic will not only not object, but will secretly support him? After all, their ideologies are somewhat aligned."

“That’s right.” Dumbledore spread his hands. “But from another perspective, it’s not all bad.”

“You mean…” Dylan smiled, “that magic schools have their own rules, and even if Voldemort stayed there, he couldn’t rule by violence as the ‘Dark Lord’ like before?”

He paused, "Especially since Durmstrang has its own order, if he uses force, it will only cause a backlash, so he has to restrain himself?"

“At least for now, they do seem to intend to do so.” Dumbledore’s smile returned as he cast an approving glance at Dylan. “Do you know about Durmstrang’s succession method?”

"Succession method?" Dylan tilted his head. "You mean... how the principal takes over?"

“That’s right.” Dumbledore nodded in confirmation.

“I only saw scattered records of it in a few old books that recorded strange tales,” Dylan recalled. “It was said that the position of principal of that school could be won through duels.”

"Its founder was Nelidavokanova, who died suddenly and mysteriously when the school was thriving. Harfonmont then took over as principal."

"Therefore, there have been rumors that Durmstrang allowed the succession of the principal position to be completed through dishonorable means such as duels or even murder."

At this point, Dylan seemed to suddenly realize something: "You mean, if Voldemort wants to control Durmstrang, he must abide by their rules and seize the position of headmaster through a duel? This would actually limit his actions?"

"According to those books, Harfmont set a very bad precedent."

“After him, Durmstrang used similar methods to seize the position of principal several times, each time accompanied by an internal purge.”

At this point, he looked at Dumbledore, his tone somewhat uncertain: "Headmaster Dumbledore, do you believe... Voldemort has already taken the position of headmaster through a duel?"

“It’s not that time yet.” Dumbledore shook his head slightly and tapped his fingers twice on the desk. “But I must say, they plan to thoroughly purge Durmstrang while we’re busy preparing for the Triwizard Tournament, and then move on to the next step of their plan after the tournament.”

He paused, then lowered his voice: "But Voldemort is still the same as ever, extremely cautious."

"He only revealed this to Barty Crouch Jr., and painted a rosy picture of him, saying that he would build a new world for pure-blood wizards, making Barty feel that he was the key figure of the future."

“So Voldemort must want Barty Jr. to do something,” Dylan said, voicing his doubts with certainty. “Otherwise, there would be no need to make him so many promises.”

“That’s hard to say.” Dumbledore suddenly revealed a sly smile, and his tone became lighter. “Perhaps you will have a more accurate judgment after you see it for yourself.”

He stood up, walked to the walnut cabinet in the corner, and carefully took out a translucent stone basin.

It is the Pensieve.

The sunlight outside the window is just right, and the daylight gives the surface of the meditation basin a faint glow.

Dumbledore raised his wand, gently pressing the tip against his temple. With a slight pressure from his fingers, a strand of silver memory thread was pulled out, as light as moonlight.

With a slight flick of his wrist, the silk thread slowly fell into the meditation basin, and in the blink of an eye, it completely dissolved into the silvery-white liquid in the basin without causing a ripple.

“Take a look, these are fragments of memory I’ve extracted from some related traces,” Dumbledore gestured for Dylan to come forward.

Dylan took a deep breath and bent down to bury his head in the Pensieve.

A strong sense of weightlessness suddenly overwhelmed me, as if I were falling into a bottomless abyss.

The next second, her feet landed firmly on the ground. (End of Chapter)