Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

At that moment, his brother stood quietly opposite him, his eyes fixed on him, observing his every reaction, with that mysterious smile on his face that he particularly disliked.

"Do you think Muggles have that kind of power? Just based on... their imagination? Or... baseless prayers?" Aberforth's tone was clearly sarcastic. He took a step forward, staring into Albus's eyes as he pressed, "They don't even know the most basic magic, how could they possibly have the ability to 'make' us disappear? That's utterly absurd!"

"We have no way of knowing about that right now."

Albus shrugged slightly, his tone still calm. "To be honest, if I were to rewrite this draft now, I myself would find some of the viewpoints in it to be a bit... crazy, even beyond the realm of common sense."

He raised his right hand, palm up, and a ball of orange-red flame suddenly flickered in his previously empty palm. The flame burned quietly without burning his skin.

"You see, magic is such a wonderful thing. In places where there seems to be nothing, as long as you use magic, a ball of fire can appear out of thin air. Just like when we study the soul, it is invisible and intangible, yet it truly exists."

Albus's gaze became distant, as if recalling the past: "Do you know what Dylan was like when he first came into contact with magic? He knew nothing about the magical world, and was even amazed by the most basic things like owls delivering messages."

"But he is a wizard who started from scratch and has come this far step by step. He can even inspire me to study some areas that I have never thought of before. I think there is one very important thing about him - no matter how incredible or illogical something sounds, he is willing to try to believe it first and then verify it through his own efforts. In the end, the conclusions he comes to often surprise me."

“In fact, the reason I started researching these things—” Albus pointed to the draft Aberforth was holding in his hand, his tone tinged with emotion, “was that my initial inspiration came from Dylan. He once discussed the relationship between wizards and Muggles with me, and put forward many bold conjectures, which made me start to re-examine this history.”

"Later, I met some old and remote, and really long-lived magicians. He was a very long-lived wizard who had seen more of history and experienced more unknown things than we had. He told me about some strange phenomena he had discovered that could not be explained by traditional magical theories."

"So I thought, maybe I should do what Dylan did, first try to believe these seemingly crazy conjectures, and then use actual research to verify them. That's how I explored step by step and got these... interesting results."

Albus then shifted the conversation back to the previous topic: "As for whether Muggles have magical potential, I can't give a definite answer right now. But have you ever thought about this—if a Veela mates with a wizard, its bloodline will be integrated into the wizard's bloodline. Their children will have some Veela characteristics, such as outstanding appearance and the ability to manipulate water elementals, but only 'some'. But what if a Veela mates with a Muggle?"

"As far as I know, children born to Veela and Muggles retain pure Veela characteristics and are even more powerful in some aspects than offspring born to wizards. Could this be interpreted as... Muggles also possess some kind of magical power? Including those so-called half-blood wizards, they are often more talented than pure-blood wizards and excel in magical learning. Isn't that enough to explain something?"

Seeing the annoying "everything is under control" smile on Albus's face, Aberforth couldn't help but purse his lips, his resentment rising again: "Since you put it that way, I've also thought of something interesting that might be used to verify some of the points in the draft. How about it, do you want to hear it?"

Albus raised an eyebrow in surprise, clearly not expecting his brother to suddenly bring up such an idea. He nodded, his tone filled with anticipation: "Of course, I'd love to hear your findings."

"You should know Godric Gryffindor, right? One of the four founders of Hogwarts, and our Gryffindor house is named after him."

Aberforth's lips curled up slightly, revealing a rare smile. "Then why do you think he joined the other three founders to establish Hogwarts School?"

Albus interlaced his fingers in front of him, leaned forward slightly, and asked with interest, "Oh? That's an interesting question. In your opinion, what was his reason for founding Hogwarts? It couldn't have been simply to pass on magical knowledge, could it?"

“Of course, it’s not just about passing on knowledge.” Aberforth’s smile deepened as he looked at Albus and said, word by word, “Because according to what I’ve heard recently, Godric Gryffindor was a Muggle knight in his youth! He spent a long time in the order and knows that learning and progressing together with companions is far more efficient than going it alone. That’s why he wanted to found a school where young wizards could learn magic and grow together, just like the members of the order!”

Upon hearing Aberforth's revelation about Godric Gryffindor, Albus Dumbledore's expression changed slightly, and a genuine look of surprise flashed across his eyes. Although this surprise only lasted for a moment, it was precisely caught by Aberforth, who had been paying close attention to his reaction.

Aberforth immediately broke into a smug smile, leaning forward slightly, his tone tinged with boastfulness: "How about that? You didn't expect this news, did you? I bet you've lived all these years and never heard of Gryffindor having such an experience."

“I really didn’t expect this. This discovery is really interesting.” Albus made no attempt to hide his surprise and readily admitted it. He then asked curiously, “Where did they find this information? It actually proves that Gryffindor were once Muggle knights, which is something that has never appeared in any official historical records.”

Seeing that Albus was indeed interested, Aberforth didn't want to keep him in suspense any longer and said directly, "It's a book called 'An Introduction to Muggle Swordsmanship,' and the author is listed as Godric Gryffindor. It's said that Dylan found it in the old book section of the library, hidden among a pile of manuscripts from hundreds of years ago, and it was almost treated as waste paper."

“The Muggle Swordsmanship Manual?” Albus nodded thoughtfully, a smile playing on his lips. “Only Dylan would have the patience and luck to find these obscure yet precious books in those forgotten corners. Anyone else would probably not even bother to approach those dusty piles of old books.”

His gaze fell on the parchment draft that Aberforth was clutching in his hand, his fingers tapping lightly on the table unconsciously, his thumb circling back and forth, clearly thinking about something else.

After a few seconds, he looked up at Aberforth and asked seriously, "Aberforth, I'm suddenly curious, what exactly did Dylan say or do that made you think he was researching war magic? Can you tell me in detail?" "Nothing special, just a little meeting this morning at the Hog's Head." Aberforth leaned back in his chair and slowly recalled the entire meeting, from Fred and George sharing their progress in compiling materials, to Neville mentioning "An Introduction to Muggle Swordsmanship," and then to Dylan proposing solutions to the technical difficulties of live magic broadcasts—he recounted everything in detail.

Albus listened attentively, nodding gently, a warm smile always on his face.

When he heard Fred and George begin to take notes seriously about the meeting, and Neville and Hannah proactively plan to learn at the herbal shop, his eyes lit up with genuine joy, clearly pleased with the growth of these young people.

When Aberforth described Dylan's solution to the problem, comparing the audience to members of the Knights and using written explanations to guide the collective will to assist the magic, Aberforth's expression instantly became extremely serious. He leaned forward slightly and even softened his breathing, clearly not wanting to miss a single detail.

"That's about it. After the meeting, they all left to take care of their weekend plans."

Abu Fusi cleared his throat, ending his narration with a lingering sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a feeling of mixed emotions, often including regret or nostalgia). He had only gone to sit in on the meeting, but unexpectedly gained so much information.

"I see. Thank you for making the trip to tell me all this." Albus gently tapped the desk, and an exquisite silver tea set instantly appeared on the table, with steam rising from the teapot. "Here, have some tea to soothe your throat. You must be thirsty after talking for so long."

“I’ve heard that you have thousands of barrels of mead hidden in your office. This isn’t just a rumor; it’s a fact that many people know.” Aberforth raised an eyebrow, glancing meaningfully under the desk. He was clearly not interested in the tea; he was more interested in trying the legendary mead.

“I thought you’d prefer some mild tea.” Albus smiled helplessly, put down the teapot, and tapped the table again. “Since you’d rather have mead, I’ll grant your wish. A cup of hot mead with cinnamon and fennel—I remember that used to be your favorite combination.”

Aberforth opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he just shrugged and said casually, "Whatever, it's better than drinking tea."

“Excellent!” Albus smiled and waved his wand. A steaming cup of mead appeared out of thin air in front of Aberforth. Tiny cinnamon chips and fennel seeds floated in the amber liquid, and its aroma instantly filled the air.

Aberforth picked up his glass, tilted his head back and drank most of it down, letting out a satisfied groan, and the fatigue on his face dissipated considerably.

Seeing this, Albus slowly spoke, "The solution Dylan offered does indeed sound somewhat like the 'guidance of collective will' in war magic. No wonder you're worried—"

Seeing Aberforth raise his eyebrows in displeasure, he immediately smiled and changed his tune, "No wonder you find it strange; after all, this kind of thinking is indeed rare."

“To be honest, someone you describe as ‘long-lived’ and who can work with you to research and write drafts must be an extraordinary figure in the magical world. Their magical level must be quite high, right?” Aberforth put down his wine glass, his eyes falling on the stack of parchment drafts again, his tone tinged with doubt. “But I always feel that Dylan’s research in this area seems to be a bit ahead of yours.”

He continued, “You’re still in the stage of drafting and refining the theory, but the suggestions he made at the meeting have already moved towards practical application and even experimental verification. Since this draft is intended for Dylan, and it’s clearly not finished yet, aren’t you worried that by the time you finish the draft, Dylan will have already reached his own conclusions and won’t need this draft at all?”

“I don’t have such concerns.” Albus shook his head slightly and asked in return, “Do you think that just because a Niffler has seen a certain gem before, it will stop hiding new gems it encounters? For Dylan, knowledge is like gems in the Niffler’s eyes; there’s never enough of it, and he only wants to know more.”

"We really owe you a lot for your help this time. It helped us clarify our approach to revising the draft. If all goes well, we might be able to deliver the revised draft to Dylan sooner than originally planned." Albus looked at Aberforth, who was about to leave, his tone filled with sincere gratitude and a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

It's been a long time since I've had such a calm and peaceful conversation with my younger brother.

“Actually, this has nothing to do with me. I’m just telling you what I heard.” Aberforth downed the mead in his glass, the spicy liquid sliding down his throat and bringing a warm sensation.

He put down his wine glass, reached for the Invisibility Cloak on the sofa, stood up, and spoke with a still somewhat stiff tone, as if the previous exchange had been just an ordinary conversation.

"Then I'm leaving." Aberforth said, turning to walk towards the door.

Albus stood up as well, smiling as he said, "You can come here more often when you have time. You don't have to rush every time. We have mulled mead in winter, and in summer, the gin and sangria are quite good. You should like them."

Aberforth's arm was halfway raised, poised as if about to don the invisibility cloak. Hearing Albus's words, he paused, remained silent for a few seconds, then let out a soft breath, turned to Albus, and shrugged somewhat awkwardly: "We'll see. If the Pig's Head Bar runs out of liquor, maybe I'll come and get a few barrels." (End of Chapter)