Hogwarts: My name is the Unforgivable Curse...

Chapter 111 The Intervention of the Board of Directors

Tormented by that brilliant idea, Avada managed to break the doctor's orders on his very first day after being discharged from the hospital—he barely slept a wink all night.

Fortunately, he was discharged from the hospital on the weekend; otherwise, he couldn't guarantee that Snape wouldn't have gone easy on him just because he had been discharged.

So, early the next morning, he forced himself to go to the bathroom to wash his face, and then immediately took the box worth more than thirty Galleons to the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor. Along the way, he did not forget to use his magical senses to keep watch on his surroundings and see if he could find the culprit who attacked others—unfortunately, he found nothing, and he didn't know whether to say he was lucky or unlucky.

After pacing back and forth three times in front of the wall opposite the tapestry depicting the giant beating Barnabas, Avada summoned the long-lost door to the Room of Requirement once again.

Last semester, he hadn't been to the Room of Requirement much because he was focused on dealing with Voldemort, and with a whole summer break, the door looked a little unfamiliar to him now. Avada looked around, pushed the door open, and went inside—it was still the "room where things are hidden."

He planned to retrieve the Ravenclaw tiara on this trip, so he wouldn't keep thinking about it.

"Hmm, it doesn't look like it's been disturbed... It seems Voldemort didn't have the urge to revisit this place last year."

Seeing that Ravenclaw's crown was placed exactly where he had restored it, with no change to the Horcrux magic on it, Avada breathed a sigh of relief, put the crown away, took out the box, found a table, and sat down to begin his research.

then……

Sizzle—Bang!

"Hiss... Oh ho ho..."

Avada gasped in pain as the back of his hand, which had slipped from his grip while tearing the tape, hit the corner of the table.

"As expected of magic tape that can stick to a wand, it's still so hard to peel off even with a special antidote..."

He awkwardly held the wand in his left hand, cast a restore spell on the back of his hand, and then continued casting a dispel spell while slowly peeling off the tape with his fingernails. It took him quite some time to finally remove the three large loops of tape completely.

"call……"

He shook his slightly numb hand before opening the box and observing the resurrection stone lying quietly inside without any interference.

"Just as I suspected! My guess was right!"

From Avada's perspective, the Resurrection Stone also contains patterns that are very similar to the soul, but with obvious differences!

And those magical structures that originally looked chaotic became regular, precise, and beautiful in another dimension with the introduction of a new perspective.

"The Deathly Hallows truly do involve the secrets of the soul..."

He couldn't help but marvel, "So, thousands of years ago, the Peverell brothers had already grasped the secrets of the soul's origin and were already able to utilize them to some extent?"

"But if they've reached such a terrifying level, how could they die? Even the most basic Horcrux magic can prevent natural death, so how could they die? If they were killed, who could kill three powerful and terrifying wizards?"

"How did they arrive at their research findings? Could it be like the dark wizards in Professor Baker's book, obtained through the ruthlessness of human life? Or do they possess a talent similar to mine, the ability to sense souls and magic?"

"And if the Peverell brothers are so powerful... then why are their descendants so impoverished? They should have passed on their research findings, otherwise the Gaunt and Potter families wouldn't possess the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak..."

"Could Salazar Slytherin's ability to imbue Parseltongue into his soul also be due to inheriting their research?"

For a moment, countless questions filled his mind, causing him to have a headache while marveling at how ancient and mysterious the magical world was.

Moreover, Parsleyan and the Deathly Hallows proved one thing to him—that the soul, like magic and spiritual power, can be edited, modified, or even used simply as a material.

"To be honest, it's pretty scary."

Avada looked down at the resurrection stone in his hand, his gaze complex: "You've really given me a surprise."

"A person's true self is like a lump of clay, manipulated at will..."

"...Should I continue down this path?"

He sighed, put the resurrection stone back into the box, and then wrapped it with three more layers of tape.

Whether he intends to continue his research along this path or not, he currently understands absolutely nothing about the structure of the soul's origin, and summarizing patterns through observation is an incredibly lengthy process. Thinking about this now is pointless except for adding to his worries; he'd rather focus his attention on his recent coma…

"Okay, I've added more useless knowledge to my knowledge."

He rubbed his face, tried to force an awkward, bitter smile, and then put away the box and Ravenclaw's crown separately—he didn't intend to put the crown and the Resurrection Stone in the box together; who knows what would happen if the two Horcruxes were together every day?

Although it's highly unlikely that anything will happen, he still intends to avoid any accidents as much as possible. In any case, the crown won't act alone, it doesn't have any weird curses on it, and it probably doesn't have any independent consciousness like a diary, so there shouldn't be any problem keeping it in his pocket.

"At worst, I'll just spend another thirty Galleons to buy a box."

As Avada thought this, he pushed open the door to the Room of Requirement, only to be startled by a roar that came through the crack in the door—

"It's been over a month! Dumbledore! A whole month!!"

A deep male voice was roaring:

"Students have been collapsing since the beginning of the semester, and now a month has passed, and you only allow them to keep their eyes open for ten minutes a day?! Not even enough time for a trip to the toilet?!"

"Do you even know what a mess things are going on outside! Me and all of us on the school board are receiving over a dozen letters from parents every day! There are even some that are like screaming letters – the kind of shock that could give someone a heart attack! I feel like I've lost ten years of my life lately, let alone my poor daughter!!"

"Please calm down, Mr. Parkinson..."

Dumbledore's voice came from deep within the corridor. Avada quickly peeked out, and after confirming the conversation wasn't taking place in his section of the corridor, he swiftly went out, closed the door, making it disappear into the wall again, then cast an Illusion Charm on himself and continued listening to the conversation—

"Calm down? Will that help?! Will it reassure the outside world about the school? Will it make those students better? Will it make Pansy better?!"

"I assure you, Mr. Parkinson, we are working tirelessly to develop the potion, and Professor Snape told me that we will have results this month..."

"Ha, right! Produce results! Then make the students drink drugs while they're unconscious! Are you running a school or a pharmacy?!"

"Looks like I not only have to send Pansy to St. Mungo's, but I also need to consider transferring her to Iphamonie!"

"..."

"...We are very disappointed in you, Dumbledore."

After a moment of silence, the male voice finally stopped roaring, but the suppressed anger could still be heard: "I'm here today not only for Pansy, but also on behalf of the entire board of directors to see you."

"The school board will establish a special investigation team to investigate this matter. We will hire the best defensive magic masters and the most professional anti-spell specialists to investigate this matter, and school board members will personally come to supervise. We must give the outside world an explanation... All you need to do is sit in your ridiculous office and write letters to the students' parents every day!"

(End of this chapter)