Hogwarts: My name is the Unforgivable Curse...

Chapter 347 The Real Professor Moody

It was afternoon, and the Hogwarts students had all gone to Durmstrang Castle for classes, and would likely stay there until the Christmas Ball ended around midnight. So the corridors were empty and silent, making Avada Kedavra's Disillusionment Charm go to waste...

dong dong dong.

"Professor, are you there?"

Avada Kedavra silently dispelled the Disillusionment Curse, stood in front of Dumbledore's office door, gently knocked on the door, and asked in a low voice.

"Huh? Who is it?"

A somewhat puzzled voice immediately came from behind the door, and then the office door was opened by an invisible force, revealing Albus Dumbledore's aged face: "You are... Mr. Ken?"

He looked at Avada's face and asked—though most people would interpret such an inquiry as a greeting or a request for something, Avada didn't even need to use his magical senses to see a hint of uncertainty and guilt in that "Dumbledore's" eyes...

"Uh... sir?"

Avada hesitated for a moment before asking, and then closed the office door behind him.

"Just call me Professor."

That "Dumbledore" seemed to roll his eyes—an expression you would never see on the real Dumbledore.

"...Alright, Professor."

Avada cooperated fully, going through the motions completely.

"Albus told me you'd probably be back in two days—it seems things are going better on your end than I thought."

The "Dumbledore" gestured for him to sit down, and asked in a deep, muffled voice—an actor personally invited by Dumbledore certainly couldn't possibly have such a big flaw in his acting. It was only now, facing someone who knew the inside story, that he temporarily relaxed.

"Oh, by the way, your best friend David Stephen asked me to pass on a message to you, saying that he knows what you told him and will do his best to cooperate with your stunt double performance..."

"David Stephen isn't exactly my best friend; we just have a good relationship and can talk to each other."

Avada calmly replied, "Of all the people who came to Durmstrang with me, Cedric Diggory and Baron Shafik are probably the closest to me."

David Stephen, a seventh-year Ravenclaw student and one of the candidates for champions who came to Durmstrang, had even explored Voldemort's Horcrux cave with Avada, so he wasn't exactly unfamiliar with Avada. Judging from the mental state displayed when that "Dumbledore" said those words, he was clearly testing whether he was the real deal.

"That's right."

Dumbledore then placed his drooping left hand on the table, his mental alertness and wariness dissipating considerably. "Your true name is the incantation of the Killing Curse. The purpose of this trip was to remove the fragments of Harry Potter's soul and, incidentally, to restore Voldemort's soul to its wholeness. The writing on the feather Dumbledore left for you is the name of his phoenix, Fawkes... Anything else you want to ask?"

"……there is none left."

Avada had already made a rough guess about the true identity of this "Dumbledore," so he sat down with peace of mind. He took out six items that were originally Horcruxes, including the crystal ball, as well as Voldemort's true form in the glass bottle, from his pocket: "This trip was indeed very smooth, so I returned much earlier than expected."

"All the Horcruxes, including Harry's, have been removed, and Voldemort's soul has been restored to its full potential—now all that's needed is to remove the spell from the bottles and smash them, and this once-powerful Dark Lord will vanish completely."

"But that's clearly not what we're planning."

Dumbledore gave a soft hum, picked up the glass bottle from the table, and stared intently at the handsome face made of gray mist inside, examining it closely. His eyes gradually revealed a look of amazement.

"Albus had told me long ago that Voldemort split his soul into eight pieces—I was already surprised when I heard that, but now someone has actually managed to forcibly piece those fragmented souls back together... If this were made public, it would surely be another magical miracle remembered by all wizards."

Whether it was Avada's imagination or not, this "Dumbledore" seemed to be using only one eye when examining the glass bottle, while the pupil of the other eye was somewhat unfocused and the eyeball was trembling slightly, as if it wanted to uncontrollably turn in another direction—combined with the results presented by her magical senses, this made Avada even more certain of her previous guess.

"Actually, I put in a lot of effort—but if I didn't do it this way, I wouldn't be able to remove the fragments of Harry Potter's soul, and I wouldn't be able to preserve these three precious artifacts..."

"Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff..."

Dumbledore seemed to only then notice the three priceless artifacts on his desk, and shifted his gaze slightly, as if observing them out of the corner of his eye: "Ha, thankfully Voldemort didn't find any Gryffindor relics, and he hasn't yet ruined all four founders of Hogwarts."

As he spoke, he put the glass bottle containing Voldemort's body into his pocket, and then pushed the other six Horcruxes toward Avada: "Keep these for now, and we'll discuss what to do with them when Albus comes back... Besides, I heard that this crystal ball seems to belong to the Shafik family, right? It's the one you used when you were capturing Voldemort together—haha, just based on that alone, you're good enough to ignore any academic limitations and be specially recruited by the Auror Office."

He looked Avada up and down, his eyes revealing undisguised admiration: "Rufus's assessment of you is not at all excessive, it's even a bit too lenient..."

"Uh, Professor Moody,"

Avada's face twitched: "Isn't this a bit too obvious? I remember you were supposed to attend a Christmas ball tonight..."

"Of course I know."

Alastor Moody, disguised as Dumbledore, wasn't surprised that Avada had guessed his identity. In fact, he was more surprised that Avada still couldn't figure out his true identity after he had acted so convincingly: "There's no need to force an act when it's not necessary. I can't play myself like Snape..."

boom!

Just as they were talking, a burst of fire suddenly lit up around them, prompting Moody to draw his wand with lightning speed. He then constructed an unprecedentedly strong armor spell in front of him and Avada before turning a wary gaze to the figure emerging from the flames…

"Haha, your identity was guessed so quickly, Alastor?"

The real Albus Dumbledore chuckled as he looked at the face that looked exactly like his own, which was still watching him warily, and then gently stroked the phoenix Fawkes perched on his shoulder.

(End of this chapter)