HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

"Phoenix feathers, unicorn mane, mandrake... what is this...?" Dumbledore listed the materials West had placed on the table, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "I've never seen a soul-extracting array before, West. Are these from your Dark Curse?"

Snape was equally curious; although he had witnessed West's vast knowledge base many times, he was still awestruck each time.

As West ground the material, he replied, "Obviously, isn't it?"

Dumbledore pondered, "Perhaps you could compile these things—they are invaluable treasures of knowledge..."

"Haven't you always been against the use of anything related to dark magic?" West didn't even look up. "Unfortunately, the price demanded by ancient dark magic is far greater than that of the Unforgivable Curse."

—As for the ancient potions, West is indeed working on compiling and summarizing them, but this is a gift he intends to give to Severus, and whether or not to circulate it is up to Severus.

Harry and Draco were sitting on the sofa drinking tea. Harry seemed a little uneasy, and Draco, while reassuring him, curiously sized up the blond young man sitting opposite them.

Draco remembered that this man had been at Harry's birthday party, where he was with Dumbledore.

"What exactly is his background?" Draco and Harry whispered in each other's ears.

Harry said softly, "He is... Grindelwald, I think you know him, Draco."

Draco's eyes widened, his mouth formed an "O," and he was almost about to scream, "Of course I know!"

"So, that thing is true?" Draco pursed his lips, his gaze shifting back and forth between Grindelwald and Dumbledore.

"What?" Harry asked, puzzled.

Draco whispered, "Harry, didn't you read the Daily Prophet? The unspeakable secret between Dumbledore and Grindelwald..." Draco was a little nervous gossiping in front of the people involved, his voice barely a whisper, "I always thought it was fake... Salazar!"

Grindelwald coughed and took a sip of tea to hide the upturned corners of his mouth.

"Harry, come here." West called to Harry after finishing with the materials.

Draco patted Harry on the shoulder in comfort, and Harry stood up, walking stiffly to West's side.

"Bear with it," West said curtly, picking up the silver dagger from the table and slashing a bloody gash in Harry's arm.

Harry didn't react much, but Draco gasped. He seemed more nervous than Harry now.

Dumbledore also frowned slightly.

Guided by West, Harry moved his arm above the silver cup, and a string of dripping blood gradually soaked the powder below.

After the blood had soaked through the powder, West removed Harry's arm, pointed his wand at the silver cup, and began to chant the spell.

Meanwhile, Snape helped Harry heal his wounds and gave him a blood-replenishing potion, which helped Harry's pale complexion recover somewhat.

Driven by the unfamiliar incantation, the blood began to flow slowly, carrying the medicinal powder as it swirled in the cup and quickly blended together.

West picked up a phoenix feather, dipped it in the liquid in the silver cup, and began to draw a formation on the ground.

Harry stood in the middle, the floor beneath him covered in blood-red ancient script. The scene was somewhat eerie.

Wester got everything ready, stood up straight, and said to Harry, "It might hurt a little, but bear with it."

Harry clenched his fist. "It's okay. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time. Paying a little price is nothing."

West began chanting the spell. The incantation flowed from his lips, invisibly connecting with the array. The blood-red spell began to crawl like a snake, wrapping around Harry's ankles and even climbing upwards inch by inch.

Draco stared at the bizarre scene before him, his face pale, his heart aching for Harry. He had to suppress the scream that was stuck in his throat, and could only pray silently for Merlin and Salazar, hoping that everything would go smoothly.

Snape and Dumbledore watched intently, their breathing becoming lighter, and even Grindelwald stood up.

"This is too dark! What kind of Dark Lord is he? Let West have him." Grindelwald's expression was grave.

Harry suppressed his urge to escape, gritting his teeth as he waited for the blood curse to spread throughout his body.

West's spell continued. Then, right before everyone's eyes, the blood curse seeped into Harry's skin and vanished without a trace.

Thump, thump, thump—Harry heard his heart pounding faster and faster. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, as if it wanted to leap out of his throat.

His blood seemed to be ignited by flames, churning and boiling like magma in his veins, scorching his internal organs until they were charred.

Up to this point, Harry still didn't feel any intense pain, just—it was very hot, as if he were in the crater of a volcano.

Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, his temples throbbed, and his skull felt as if it were being repeatedly hammered by countless steel nails. A sharp pain exploded from the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, and every nerve felt like it was being torn apart and gnawed away.

Harry's knees buckled, and he suddenly knelt on the ground, cold sweat pouring down his face.

"Isn't it just a little painful? Why does it hurt so much!" Harry thought to himself, trying to find some humor in the midst of the pain.

Soon, the pain doubled, and Harry's thoughts were quickly overwhelmed. He had to muster all his willpower to fight the pain and stay conscious.

He trembled with pain, cold sweat soaking the stone bricks beneath him. Harry bit his lower lip, the taste of blood spreading in his mouth.

Draco began to tremble as if he were in pain himself. "When will this end? Harry is dying!" he couldn't help but say.

As soon as he finished speaking, Harry let out a painful scream—blood seeped from his skin, staining his clothes red.

Dumbledore paced back and forth, then said, "Harry can't take it anymore, West, can you stop?"

Vester remained unmoved and continued chanting the incantation.

Snape frowned. "Dumbledore, something's wrong." He walked over to West and found that West's eyes had turned a deep, dark green, like stagnant water.

"He's lost consciousness," Grindelwald said gravely.

"Think of something! Harry's dying!" Draco cried.

Harry was already disoriented. If his arm hadn't been supporting him on the floor, he probably would have passed out.

Dumbledore took out his wand, but Snape quickly stopped him, saying, "Wait."

Snape stepped forward and whispered in West's ear, "West, West?" His voice trembled with urgency.

West moved. He turned his head, his face blank, and stared into Snape's dark eyes.

"Wake up," Snape commanded, frowning.

The blood seeping from Harry's body twisted into a blood rope, pulling a remnant soul out of his body.

The remnant soul let out a low, hoarse scream, its face constricted by the blood threads, which outlined a snake-like shape. The next second, it was forcefully shoved into a book on the ground by the blood threads.

The chanting stopped. West slumped against Snape, resting his head on Snape's shoulder, and fell unconscious.

Dumbledore and Draco rushed forward to check on Harry, casting several examination spells in succession. They found that Harry had no other problems except for some blood loss, and they breathed a sigh of relief.

Grindelwald picked up the book from the ground. "Incredible. This book has become a Horcrux."

"Destroy it, Gale," Dumbledore said.

Grindelwald threw the book into the basin, and Dumbledore's wand shot out a fiery beam that landed on the book.

Snape helped West to the sofa and fed him several bottles of potions.

"His magic has gone out of control," Snape said, puzzled and worried.

Dumbledore was also clueless. "We'll have to wait until West wakes up to find out what happened. Perhaps it's a side effect of the spell."

Harry woke up quickly. Draco, overjoyed, cupped Harry's face in his hands. "How are you feeling? You scared me to death, Harry!"

Harry held Draco's hand and rubbed it against Draco's palm, his thick eyelashes making Draco's palm ticklish.

Harry smiled brightly. "I've never felt so refreshed."

He was telling the truth. The moment Voldemort's remnant soul was banished, it felt as if a stream had washed over his entire body, cleansing his soul and giving him a sense of rebirth.

"Is West alright?" Harry asked, feeling somewhat guilty.

"It's alright, we're still here, Harry." Dumbledore blinked. "Perhaps you'd like to take a bath first?"

Harry then realized that he was covered in blood, and that he had even stained Draco's clothes and hands because of his closeness with Draco.

Harry nodded. "If West wakes up, please let me know, Headmaster." With that, he took Draco's hand and left.

West was sleeping soundly with his head on Snape's lap, his tense expression having relaxed.