Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

“That guy…” Cornelius Fudge wanted to express his concern further, but turned to a Ministry of Magic employee beside him and instructed, “Stay with Mr. Karkaroff, escort him to the ship, and make sure he’s safe…”

"No need!" Before Fudge could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Karkarov's rough roar. At this moment, his forehead was completely soaked with cold sweat, and the excruciating pain was like a leech clinging to his bones. He had lost his usual pretense, and his roar was filled with both the venting of pain and the irritation of being disturbed.

"Just don't follow me!" Realizing his loss of composure, he took a deep breath, but couldn't suppress the pain in his arm and the fear in his heart. He simply left out these words, still clutching his left arm tightly, and ran desperately toward the magic ship moored by the lake in a strange and staggering posture, as if something terrible was chasing him from behind.

Just as Karkaroff clutched his left arm and staggered away, Dylan, surrounded by students in the center of the champion's podium, turned and looked over.

"Is it coming?"

Suddenly, a dazzling green light burst forth in the distant night sky.

This green light was so intense and eerie that even the colorful magical fireworks that were currently blooming paled in comparison, as if they had been completely swallowed up by its green glow.

The dazzling yet strange green light instantly attracted the attention of all the students.

They all stopped what they were doing, and in unison looked up at the night sky following the light. The smiles on their faces gradually froze, replaced by doubt and unease.

In the night sky, the green light coalesced into an enormous skull shape, composed of countless tiny, shimmering green dots.

The skull's outline was grotesque and terrifying, with deep-set eyes that exuded a suffocating chill.

Even more bizarrely, the skull's lower jaw slowly sank, and a thick python emerged from it. The snake's body twisted and contorted like a strange, long tongue, constantly writhing and coiling beneath the skull, eventually forming a coiled pattern resembling the number "8"—the Dark Mark, etched into the hearts of all wizards, symbolizing Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It now hung high in the night sky above the Quidditch stadium, radiating an aggressive, eerie glow, shrouding the entire night sky in a layer of greenish, chilling veil.

The enormous Dark Mark in the night sky seemed to possess a kind of magic that could penetrate the soul, quietly stirring up the deepest fears hidden in the hearts of all wizards, especially those Ministry of Magic employees who had entered middle age. The impact of this mark on them was the most intense—it was a shadow etched into their bones, a microcosm of the dark years when they lived in constant fear and witnessed countless tragedies in their youth.

"The Dark Mark, it's the Dark Mark!" A gray-haired Ministry of Magic employee was the first to react, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded, filled with despair.

"Impossible!" Another employee clutched his head, his body trembling uncontrollably, his eyes filled with disbelief and terror.

"The mysterious man... he's back?" Someone stammered, uttering the chilling name, their voice trembling with tears. "Didn't he disappear more than ten years ago? How could he be back..."

The tranquility of the Quidditch pitch was instantly shattered by piercing screams and panicked chatter.

Many middle-aged Ministry of Magic employees could no longer maintain their composure. Some collapsed to the ground, their eyes rolled back, and they lost consciousness. Others, like frightened birds, scrambled away from the Dark Mark, as if they could escape the impending catastrophe if they could not see the suffocating green light. Still others covered their eyes tightly, but could not stop their bodies from trembling, and kept muttering prayers.

“Dark Mark… Dark Mark…” Cornelius Fudge stood there, trembling all over. His usual majesty was gone. His face was ashen, his lips were purple, and he immediately turned to look at Dumbledore with eyes full of dependence and panic, like a lost student in dire need of guidance.

"Dumbledore... what is going on?" His voice trembled so badly that he could barely speak a coherent sentence. "Why... why is this thing here? Has he really come back?"

Just as Fudge frantically sought help from Dumbledore, Barty Crouch had already quickly recovered from his shock and demonstrated the decisiveness expected of a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic. Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately drew his wand from his waist and pointed it unequivocally at the Dark Mark in the air that emitted a ghostly green light.

"Stop the spell!" Crouch chanted in a deep voice, while simultaneously waving his wand violently.

However, the Black Demon Mark in the night sky only swayed slightly like a candle flame in the wind. The green light flickered for a moment, but it still stubbornly hovered there without any sign of dissipating. The eerie green halo continued to spread outward, dyeing the entire sky an eerie green.

“Something’s not right. This is different from the Dark Mark from back then!” Crouch frowned, a deep sense of doubt appearing between his brows. Although the Dark Mark from back then was equally terrifying, it could be dispelled by a powerful counter-curse. But this mark in front of him seemed unusually stubborn. He immediately put aside his doubts and sharply scanned his surroundings, beginning to search for the source of the mark’s appearance.

Soon, his gaze settled on the direction of the lake in the distance.

Karkaroff was slumped on the ground, legs outstretched, hands clutching his left arm, his face contorted with pain and fear. The Black Magic Mark hovered directly above him, its green light seemingly emanating from his position.

"It seems the mark originated from Karkarov."

Crouch quickly made a judgment, turned to Dumbledore beside him, and said firmly, "Albus, I'll go check it out now and make sure I find out why this mark appeared."

“No problem.” Dumbledore nodded slightly, his expression calm yet carrying an undeniable authority.

Without uttering any more words, he immediately turned to the Hogwarts professors surrounding him and methodically instructed, "The celebration tonight must end here. Minerva, please go to the pitch immediately and bring your respective students back to the castle safely. Make sure that no child gets lost and that no child is allowed to wander off alone."

Then, his gaze shifted to Moody, who was also waving his wand in an attempt to dispel the Dark Mark, and he continued, "Alastor..."

Moody's single eye gleamed with vigilance, his wand still pointed at the night sky. Hearing Dumbledore's call, he immediately turned around.

Dumbledore looked at him and added, "You and Minerva go together and help bring the Slytherin students back to the castle. Professor Snape isn't here right now, so I'll feel more at ease with your help."

Moody didn't ask where Snape was. He just nodded heavily, a serious look on his face, and then turned to follow Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout, walking quickly toward the chaotic Quidditch pitch.

After properly arranging things for the Hogwarts students, Dumbledore slowly turned his head to look at the other school principals standing to the side, each with a different expression. He said in a gentle but apologetic tone, "Principals, I am very sorry to have interrupted your celebration under these circumstances. Would you please lead your students back to their lodgings to rest? We will take care of things here as soon as possible."

The Dark Mark hung high in the night sky. To most of the younger students, this image of a skull and python made of green light appeared only eerie and unfamiliar. They were unaware of the darkness and fear it carried. Many simply stood on tiptoe to peer at it, their faces full of doubt, whispering among themselves about why this strange "firework" was so frightening. However, there were always students like Hermione, who were knowledgeable and familiar with the history of magic. The moment she saw the mark, Hermione's face turned deathly pale, her hands clenched tightly together, and her body trembled slightly.

She immediately grabbed Ron beside her, her voice trembling uncontrollably: "Ron, that's the Dark Mark! It's the symbol of the Mystic and the Death Eaters! Back then, this mark meant death and destruction!"

These words spread rapidly among the students, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake.

Upperclassmen who knew the inside story also spoke up, whispering the terrifying past of the Black Mark to their classmates.

"It is said that whenever this mark appears, a wizard will meet with misfortune!"

“My dad said that during the time of the Mystic, seeing this symbol meant you had to flee immediately!”

Panic spread like wildfire. The students, who were initially just curious, gradually developed fear on their faces. Their chatter turned into panicked screams, and many began to push and shove each other in an attempt to escape. The scene was on the verge of being out of control.

"A loud voice." Just then, Dylan's voice suddenly rang out. He precisely cast an amplification spell on his neck, and his clear and steady voice pierced through all the chaos, spreading throughout the entire Quidditch pitch.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, the flustered students instinctively stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Dylan, their eyes filled with confusion and reliance, wanting to know what guidance he would give.

"Please calm down, everyone. There's no need to panic." Dylan's gaze slowly swept across the room, his tone calm yet carrying a powerful reassuring force. "Dear students, we once fought together against the massive Forbidden Forest uprising, worked together to defeat those ferocious magical creatures, and fought side by side in the labyrinth, overcoming one seemingly impossible challenge after another."

He pointed to the Black Magic Mark in the night sky, his voice still firm: "What appears now is merely a mark. It has no direct destructive power, and we need not be afraid because of a symbol. As long as we remain calm and follow the instructions of the professor and the prefect, there will be no danger."

He didn't ask any unnecessary questions, but gave clear answers directly, boosting the students' confidence with their shared past experiences.

The Black Mark in the night sky still emitted a ghostly green light, but it did not change. It neither expanded nor brought any disaster. Under Dylan's calm words, the students' panic gradually subsided, and their breathing gradually became steady.

"Attention, all prefects!" Dylan continued, "Please immediately organize your students to assemble in an orderly manner, line up according to your college, and follow your professors back to the castle!"

Upon receiving the instructions, the class leaders of each college quickly sprang into action.

They raised their college badges and shouted the names of their respective colleges, guiding the students to line up.

The initially chaotic crowd was quickly organized and moved slowly toward the castle.

At the same time, Draco was helping his father, Lucius Malfoy, out of the Quidditch stadium exit. As soon as they stepped onto the grass, the huge skull pattern suddenly appeared in the night sky. When a thick python emerged from the skull's jawbone and began to writhe, Lucius Malfoy's body stiffened abruptly, his blood seemed to freeze instantly, his legs went weak, and he staggered backward.

"Dad!" Draco exclaimed, quickly reaching out to firmly grasp Lucius's arm, using all his strength to support his swaying body and prevent him from falling to the ground.

"Black...Black Magic Mark!"

He struggled to maintain his balance, frantically tearing open the sleeve of his robe on his left arm to reveal pale skin. Only when he confirmed that no marks were visible on his arm did he exhale a long breath, as if all his strength had been drained. His chest heaved violently as he said to Draco, "Draco, I'm fine... I just lost my composure a bit."

Draco looked at his father's pale face and the cold sweat on his forehead, and a terrible thought had already formed in his mind. He hesitated and asked, "Dad, could this pattern be the one you mentioned to me before... the symbol that represents the forces of darkness?"

"You're not wrong."

Lucius Malfoy nodded heavily, his voice weak but absolutely certain, “This is the Dark Mark! It’s…it’s the mark that the Mystic gave to his most loyal followers—the Death Eaters. It’s exactly the same, without any difference!”

Draco's pupils contracted sharply, an expression of disbelief on his face. He pressed on, "But why is it here? At the Triwizard Tournament awards ceremony?"

“I don’t know… I really don’t know.” Lucius Malfoy shook his head helplessly, his eyes filled with confusion and fear, his tone tinged with despair. “But this is definitely not a good sign. I’m afraid… I’m afraid the worst thing is about to happen.”

“Mr. Malfoy? Draco?” Just then, Dylan’s voice came from behind.

As he stepped out of the Quidditch stadium exit, he saw Draco supporting his father, whose face also looked grim.

Upon seeing Dylan, Lucius Malfoy grasped at a straw, immediately looking up at Dylan with a trembling voice, and hurriedly asked, "Dylan, that thing... that Dark Mark inside me, how is it now?"

After Draco trained with them, Dylan had already dug out Lucius's Dark Mark.

Upon hearing this, Dylan smiled calmly, pointed to the Black Demon Mark in the night sky, and said in a relaxed tone, "It's alright. I'm going to deal with this eyesore in the sky now. You can leave."

Looking at Dylan's composed smile and feeling the calmness and confidence conveyed in his words, Lucius Malfoy's deep-seated fear was gradually dissipating. This feeling was very strange, completely different from when he faced Voldemort. From the moment he became a Death Eater, the emotion that arose in his heart when facing Voldemort was always a mixture of awe and extreme fear, not this feeling now.

At this moment, however, he felt a sense of security in Dylan, a sense of control over everything. In this instant, Lucius Malfoy seemed to understand his father's thoughts from back then, and why his father was willingly loyal to Voldemort—perhaps it was all due to an extreme yearning for and dependence on that powerful force. And now, he was actually feeling it in a schoolboy! (End of Chapter)