Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Voldemort's cold words fell in the empty room, each syllable like a shard of icy metal piercing Snape's eardrums. His heart sank, so heavy it almost made it hard to breathe. Dumbledore's earlier warning flashed through his mind. The white-haired wizard had given him a serious look and repeatedly warned him to be wary of Voldemort's special attention to a certain student. Now, it seemed Dumbledore's prediction was absolutely correct—Voldemort's attention to Dylan far exceeded his expectations.

Standing to the side, Barty Crouch Jr. pursed his lips, his lower lip almost bloodless from being bitten, his mind filled with lingering confusion. He simply couldn't understand why the great Dark Lord would devote so much attention to a Hogwarts student. Could it be due to the severe injury the Dark Lord had suffered a few days ago?
The thought lingered in his mind. He clearly remembered that, according to the original plan, the Dark Lord had intended to take advantage of that perfect opportunity to call upon all wizards, leading them to break free from their shackles and create a new era together. However, he never expected that Dumbledore would harbor such a deep and cunning mind, setting up a treacherous trap to scheme against the Dark Lord, forcing him to temporarily change his plans and personally go to Azkaban to rescue the loyal Death Eaters imprisoned there.

What infuriated him even more was Dylan Hawkwood, that Gryffindor student, who was utterly despicable. He had secretly contacted a large number of Aurors and landed on the island of Azkaban ahead of everyone else. Just as the Dark Lord was fully engaged in dealing with the Auror siege and trying to break through the prison's defenses, Dylan Hawkwood seized the opportunity and used a series of extremely cunning methods to entangle the Dark Lord, buying precious time and allowing Dumbledore, who was already on the defensive, to regroup and ultimately completely thwart the Dark Lord's meticulously planned perfect scheme.

The operation ended in a disastrous failure. Not only did the Dark Lord fail to free the imprisoned Death Eaters, but his own soul also suffered irreversible damage. He lay dormant for a long time, only recently managing to recover some strength. As for why such a meticulous plan failed at the last minute, and why Dylan Hawkwood, merely a student, was able to hold off the Dark Lord...

These details were irrelevant to Barty Crouch Jr., and he couldn't be bothered to delve into the reasons behind them. In his mind, Dumbledore and Dylan Hawkwood were short-sighted, treacherous, and cunning individuals, and it was their obstruction that delayed the great progress of the wizarding world.

Thinking of this, a bold idea suddenly sprouted in his mind: Could it be that the Dark Lord planned to have Snape deal with Dylan Hawkwood? As soon as this thought came to mind, a hint of excitement flashed in Barty's eyes, and he was actually looking forward to that scene.

The air in the room seemed to freeze. Voldemort's eyes flashed with a chilling crimson light, like burning hellfire, fixed on Snape. Snape's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, then he slowly nodded, without any attempt to conceal his feelings. His voice was deep and steady: "Master, what you say is true. I did indeed tutor Dylan Hawkwood alone for a period of time, and I awarded him certain house points when he made some contributions."

"Heh heh heh." Voldemort interlaced his fingers, tapping them lightly, his crimson gaze still fixed on Snape's face, his tone tinged with inquiry: "I'm curious, what do you think of this Dylan Hawkwood?"

Snape frowned slightly, as if he was thinking hard, and after a moment he spoke: "Master, Dylan Hawkwood is a student of Gryffindor House. To be honest, I don't know much about him."

"Haha." Voldemort suddenly grinned, a smile devoid of any warmth, instead exuding a chilling aura.

Before he finished speaking, his wand was already pointed at Snape, and the cold spell slipped out, "Crunch in the Heart!"

In an instant, a blinding green plasma shot out from the tip of the wand, leaping and flashing wildly in the room, radiating a chilling aura that caused the temperature of the entire space to plummet. The green spell struck Snape accurately, his body jerking violently as if struck by a powerful electric current. His entire body began to convulse uncontrollably, large beads of cold sweat rolling down his forehead and instantly soaking his black hair. His face turned deathly pale within seconds, devoid of any color, and his legs suddenly lost all strength. Snape staggered forward a few steps, his hands instinctively reaching for something to steady himself, but he missed and nearly fell heavily to the ground.

“Oh, my favorite servant.” Voldemort’s face still wore that cold smile, his tone gentle yet carrying a deadly pressure. “You seem to like this student too.”

Snape took a deep, difficult breath, his chest heaving violently. With his strong willpower, he finally managed to steady his trembling body and straighten his back. Although traces of pain still lingered on his face and cold sweat continued to seep out, his eyes gradually regained their calm as he silently stared at Voldemort.

Snape's performance of enduring the Crucifixion Curse and remaining stoic was a deliberate act from beginning to end. He knew better than anyone that Karkaroff, after being captured, would inevitably reveal a great deal of information in order to survive. There was no way to hide the fact that Karkaroff had once instructed Dylan Hawkwood. Since this information was destined to be exposed, it was better to make use of it and let it play a greater role. It was for this reason that Snape did not choose to reveal everything, but deliberately left gaps at various levels and intentionally withheld some information.

He knew Voldemort's personality all too well—this Dark Lord was extremely confident, even to the point of arrogance. If someone told him something directly, he would become suspicious and think there was something fishy going on. But if he were to use his own methods, such as Legilimency, to personally dig out the "truth" from other people's minds, he would believe it without a doubt. What Snape had to do was pave the way for Voldemort's "exploration" and make everything seem logical.

The lingering pain from the Cruciatus Curse still spread through his limbs and bones, and sharp, stabbing pains shot through his nerves. Snape's voice was much weaker than before, carrying a perfectly measured weakness and respect: "Master, your insight is truly admirable. Indeed, nothing can escape your eyes."

This compliment clearly struck a chord with Voldemort, who showed a hint of satisfaction on his face. He nodded casually, his tone softening slightly, but still carrying an unyielding authority, "This is your last chance to be honest. Speak your mind properly."

Snape, slightly out of breath, his chest heaving with pain, exhaled a chilly breath and slowly said, "His magical talent in all aspects and fields is truly astonishing. It's no exaggeration to say that he is perhaps the most talented student I've ever seen in all my years of teaching, even far surpassing other wizards of his generation." He paused, as if recalling specific details, and then added, "For example, in potion-making, whether it's handling those extremely difficult potion ingredients or strictly adhering to complex brewing steps, his operation is astonishingly precise. Many times, when I deliberately try to find flaws or errors, it's difficult to find any loopholes, as if he was born knowing how to communicate with potions."

"Oh?" Voldemort's tone revealed obvious interest, his scarlet eyes narrowed slightly with a hint of amusement, and his gaze fell back on Snape, the scrutiny becoming even stronger, "Go on, don't leave anything out."

“Yes, sir.” Snape replied respectfully, and continued slowly, “Besides his talent for potions, he has another very unusual quality—he seems to have found a way into the school’s restricted library, and no one has ever discovered it.”

"When I was instructing him on how to brew some high-level potions, it was quite obvious that he incorporated some magical knowledge that could only be found in the forbidden book zone into his process. That knowledge was obscure and difficult to understand, far beyond the scope of ordinary students' courses, and obviously not something that could be accessed through conventional channels."

Voldemort's brows furrowed instantly, a sharp glint flashing in his crimson eyes, his tone tinged with doubt: "What is Dumbledore's attitude? With his control over Hogwarts, there's no reason he wouldn't have noticed someone trespassing into the forbidden area."

“Perhaps Dumbledore not only knew, but it’s very likely he tacitly approved it, or even deliberately arranged it,” Snape replied with certainty. “I’ve noticed many times that Dylan Hawkwood, like those Gryffindor students, often sneaks around the campus late at night, his whereabouts mysterious. But strangely, the school’s janitor, Filch, has never managed to catch him even once, not even when patrolling near the forbidden library.”

"I suspect that Dumbledore must have intervened behind this. His goal is clear: to allow Dylan Hawkwood to freely explore the Forbidden Library without restriction, to learn those profound and even dangerous magical knowledge, and to cultivate him into a pawn against you."

"Hmph! Just as I thought!" Voldemort's brows furrowed even more, his tone filled with barely suppressed hatred, and his voice turned colder. "I see no problem with that at all! Dumbledore has always been such a disgusting hypocrite, always treating others differently based on his own preferences, using so-called 'justice' to mask his selfishness! Disgusting! He should have died long ago!"

He took a deep breath, tilted his head slightly, signaling Snape to continue, his tone calmer but still carrying an unquestionable command: "Severus, continue. Tell me everything you know."

“Yes, Master,” Snape nodded in response and continued, “That is why Dylan Hawkwood’s growth rate is astonishing, far exceeding my expectations. Whether it is a complex potion formula or a profound potion principle, he can master it completely in a very short time and apply it flexibly. He can even make some minor improvements on this basis. This comprehension is truly astonishing.”

Hearing Snape's undisguised high praise for Dylan Hawkwood, Barty Crouch Jr. was deeply shocked. His face was filled with undisguised astonishment, and his pupils contracted slightly, as if he had heard something unbelievable.

Prior to this, he had been ordered to Spinner's End to deliver the Dark Lord's summons, which marked his first formal confrontation with Snape. He not only witnessed Snape's true magical power, which far surpassed his own, but also felt the unfathomable composure emanating from the other man. Coupled with the rumors about Snape that he had heard intermittently from other senior Death Eaters more than a decade ago, as well as the relevant information he obtained during Karkaroff's interrogation, all these pieces of information combined gave him a clearer understanding of Snape's character—proud, critical, and rarely giving genuine praise to others, especially Hogwarts students, to whom he was always stingy with compliments.

It was precisely because of this understanding that he couldn't comprehend why Snape would give Dylan Hawkwood such high praise. Surprised, he felt an overwhelming sense of resentment welling up inside him, as if something was blocking his chest, making him feel extremely suffocated. In his eyes, Dylan Hawkwood was nothing more than a cunning and short-sighted young man who had only risen to prominence because of Dumbledore's backing. Snape's extreme praise of such a person was practically an indirect contempt for the great Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord is the most talented and resourceful wizard in the world. No one can match him in either magical skill or strategic planning. Snape dared to use complimentary words like "amazing" and "astounding" to describe an enemy in front of the Dark Lord. In his eyes, this was undoubtedly a blatant offense and a desecration of the Dark Lord's authority!

“Master, I have reported everything I can think of and know about Dylan Hawkwood to you.” Snape’s voice was noticeably hoarse, clearly from the lingering pain of the Crucifixion Curse and the strain of speaking for so long.

“Severus, you’ve done well. Don’t try to deceive me.” Voldemort nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face, his scarlet eyes flashing with complex light, as if he were processing the information Snape had brought him.

Snape's hoarse assessment wasn't entirely feigned; it also reflected his true thoughts. Dylan Hawkwood's growth rate was truly astonishing, far exceeding his expectations. Even Voldemort, a seasoned veteran of countless trials and tribulations, was somewhat surprised. (End of Chapter)