HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

Exam week is approaching.

Harry was restless, scribbling meaningless symbols on the parchment with his quill.

He lived in constant fear and apprehension, wary of Quirrell, lest he help Voldemort steal the Philosopher's Stone without anyone noticing.

Moreover, Harry's forehead had been throbbing for days, preventing him from sleeping well every night and causing him to be constantly awakened by nightmares.

"What's wrong with you, Harry?" West tapped his pale fingers on the long table in front of him, looking down at Harry.

Harry hesitated for a moment before telling West about his headache. West's face immediately darkened. "When did it start?"

Harry lowered his head and whispered, "Um, when I saw Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest."

West took a deep breath, nearly driven mad by the unfortunate kid. "How many days has it been? And you're only telling me now?"

He brushed Harry's hair aside and reached out to touch the lightning bolt-shaped scar.

West frowned, sensing a faint but malevolent force lurking within. He was once again surprised by his own strange perception of dark magic, and calmly lowered his hand.

Vistra led Harry to the cellar.

Snape's somber gaze seemed to pierce through West and land on Harry behind him.

Harry stood behind West, only his blinking green eyes visible, which pleased him considerably.

"What business do you have with your old professors, the two Mr. Potters?" Snape asked in a cold tone.

Vistra took Harry's hand and said, "We'd like to see Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster."

Snape looked at West as if trying to see through his eyes to his innermost thoughts.

West looked directly at Snape without fear, his eyes as gentle as the sea.

"We have something very important to say, Professor, and perhaps you would like to hear it too," West said.

Snape looked away as if burned, tossed his black robes aside, and said, "Come with me," turning towards the headmaster's office. "I hope your news won't disappoint me, West."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, feeling suffocated by Snape's oppressive aura, and admired West's ability to remain unfazed even more.

"Is it that serious, West? Should we see Headmaster Dumbledore?" Harry asked quietly.

West glared at him. "Of course. Don't you think being associated with Voldemort is important?"

Harry scratched his head sheepishly.

Snape walked to the stone elephant door of the headmaster's office and whispered the instruction: "Cockroach pile."

The stone gate slowly twisted open, revealing steps. The three of them walked up the steps into the principal's office.

Dumbledore was sitting at the table reading a letter, his brow furrowed. Hearing the door open, he looked up, his gaze sweeping over Snape and between West and Harry.

Upon seeing Harry, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

"Severus, what happened?"

"Mr. West has something to say to you," Snape said, stepping aside to let West come forward.

West calmly opened his mouth, "Headmaster Dumbledore, do you think Voldemort is dead?" His opening line was a bombshell.

Snape's pupils contracted sharply.

Dumbledore paused almost imperceptibly, then asked gently, "What makes you have this question, West?"

West pulled Harry in front of him. "Harry, you speak."

Harry stared at the three men, feeling a chill run down his spine, and recounted the events of that night in the Forbidden Forest once more.

"...He's drinking unicorn blood to stay alive...Frenzer said Voldemort would come back, and that's it."

Harry finished speaking, breathed a sigh of relief, and took the hot cocoa from Dumbledore. "Thank you, Headmaster."

Dumbledore's eyes were deep, while Snape's expression was even more unpleasant.

They never doubted the fact that Voldemort would return, and were not surprised by it.

"The problem is," West interrupted, lifting Harry's bangs to reveal the lightning bolt-shaped scar, "that scar has been aching lately ever since Harry met Voldemort, giving him nightmares for days."

This surprised Dumbledore somewhat.

He stepped forward and pressed his hand against the scar on Harry's forehead.

He paused for a moment, then said, "Perhaps you know that this scar was left by Voldemort after he attacked Harry."

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied.

"Was Harry influenced by Voldemort? Is there some connection between his scar and Voldemort?" West frowned, his expression grim. "He only started experiencing pain after encountering Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest."

Dumbledore glanced at West, surprised by his sensitivity. "I think the same as you, West."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, "But I haven't determined the reason yet."

West asked, "You have an idea?"

"Yes, there is one," Dumbledore said bluntly. "I need to verify this further. Before that—"

Dumbledore looked at Snape, "Severus, could you prepare some calming potions for Harry?"

Snape looked impatient and before he could speak, West said, "No need to trouble the headmaster, I'll handle the preparation for Harry."

Snape snorted and said nothing.

Dumbledore's lips curled up, and a hint of mockery lingered in his eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.

He had never seen Snape get along so well with a student, but considering that this was Lily's child and so similar to Lily, it made perfect sense.

"By the way, Harry, could you step out for a moment?" Dumbledore smiled kindly. "I have something to say to West."

Harry glanced at West, and seeing West nod at him, he pursed his lips and left.

Dumbledore sat down after the door closed, his face solemn. "West, I have ascertained the origin of your mark."

West frowned. "A mark? This isn't a scar?" He had initially suspected it might be related to Voldemort.

"No, no, no, you are not like Harry," said Dumbledore. "Your mark is natural."

He looked up at West. "You're cursed by the Dark Lord."

Snape's eyes widened slightly, his face paling. He hurriedly took a few steps forward, his voice hoarse, "Dumbledore, are you sure?"

Dumbledore nodded silently. "I wasn't sure myself, but I asked Grindelwald, so I can say with certainty—yes."

Snape was no longer interested in delving into the relationship between Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

"There's no way to remove it?" he asked, his face grim.

"...No," said Dumbledore.

"...Excuse me, can someone explain to me what the Black Curse is?" West said helplessly.

Dumbledore sighed. "The Dark Curse is an ancient curse. We don't know its origin or the reason for its existence, but some children from ancient families—a very small number, perhaps only one or two every thousand years—are born with the Dark Curse."

"Children cursed by the Dark Arts rarely live to adulthood because they are born with an affinity for Dark Arts and are familiar with all forms of Dark Arts. However, due to their overwhelming magical power, they often die shortly after birth from magical outbursts."

West's face paled slightly. "...But I'm eleven years old."

He remembered his parents' guardian angels and instantly understood why he had survived until now.

Dumbledore looked at him, not missing the fleeting tremor in his expression. "That's right. For some reason, your Dark Curse doesn't seem as powerful, and it's been temporarily suppressed."

"Can you tell me why, West?"

West stared at the toe of the shoe, his eyes flickering with light and shadow. "...My parents, by splitting their guardian spirit, sealed my curse."

A flicker of shock crossed Dumbledore's eyes, followed by a look of understanding. "I see. It seems James and Lily used the Potter family's magic."

Snape turned his head and glanced at the boy.

"My soul is torn apart," West said. "I need to go back to the old Potter house. Do you know where it is?"

Dumbledore calmly replied, "Someone I know might know."

He looked at West, "Contact me if you need. The portrait at the Potter mansion will tell you more."

Vestergaard head.

"But I must remind you, Mr. West, even with your extraordinary advantages, do not become too obsessed with dark magic," Dumbledore said.

"Hogwarts does not encourage students to use dark magic, and as you may know, excessive use of dark magic can affect a person's mind."

"If that day ever comes, I will have to take some necessary measures."

This is already a blatant threat.

Snape frowned and whispered, "Dumbledore."

West lazily lifted his eyelids. "That's none of your concern, Headmaster."

Having said that, he looked at Snape, all the laziness and impatience on his face vanishing, and he looked like a well-behaved child. "Headmaster, can we go now?"

Dumbledore: "..."

Snape told West to leave first.

"Severus, I hope he's not the second Tom." Dumbledore looked somewhat tired.

Snape narrowed his eyes, his expression grim, but said firmly, "He won't."

"He is Lily's child; he will always be West."