Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 161 Old Deng's Probing and Probing

evening.

Dylan once again came to Dumbledore's office.

"knocking"

"Please come in."

Old Deng's voice came from inside the house.

Dylan slowly turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

Dumbledore was sitting behind a huge oak table with a kind smile on his face. When he heard the voice, his blue eyes raised slightly and looked at Dylan.

"Professor, good evening."

"Good evening, child, come here and have some candy."

Dumbledore ordered a plate of desserts at hand.

Dylan walked over but shook his head. "I won't eat the candy. Professor, is there something you want me to come back tonight?"

"Oh, it's nothing serious." Dumbledore said with a smile, "Please sit down."

Dylan glanced at the empty room. There was no bench in front of Old Deng's desk.

Where should he sit?
It seems that Old Deng has come with bad intentions this time!

But Dylan wasn't shy.

"Since you say so."

Dylan suddenly pulled a book from Old Deng's desk and threw it casually to his side.

The moment the book left his hand, a strange light suddenly burst out from the book.

The light flickered and jumped, and before I could even blink, it had quickly transformed into an exquisite high chair.

"The characteristics refined by the spell are still quite overbearing."

Dylan slowly sat down.

Dumbledore looked at him in surprise. "It seems you are very knowledgeable about Transfiguration spells."

Dylan smiled shyly: "It's okay, it's all thanks to Professor McGonagall's good teaching."

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "I heard from Minerva that she doesn't even have any more Transfiguration spells to teach you."

Dylan shook his head. "How could that be? The professor has a lot of understanding in Transfiguration, which is beyond my direct reach right now."

His eyes flicked to the mirror beside the table.

Mirror of Erised?
What does Old Deng want to do?
Give him a mirror?

Dylan's expression remained unchanged.

He had already taken the mirror twice and hadn't seen any changes. Dylan wasn't afraid that the magic mirror would reveal any information about him.

Dumbledore smiled and looked at the magic mirror not far away: "Do you remember this mirror?"

"I still remember it clearly. It delivered the Philosopher's Stone directly into my pocket. Maybe I should have run away with the Philosopher's Stone."

"Hahahaha, you really know how to joke."

Dumbledore laughed loudly for a while, then calmed down a little and said to Dylan:
"Child, much of the knowledge in the Restricted Section will affect your judgment of the real world. It will corrode your logic and interfere with your thinking. I'm very worried about your current mental state, so - I'd like you to look in this mirror again, okay?"

Dylan raised his eyes and said, "Of course, I'd be happy to."

"But I must point out that I studied the Dark Arts in the Restricted Section, and I only took advantage of Lockhart's almost overflowing vanity and boasting. You know, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor always gets into a lot of trouble."

"I see."

"So I want to study some black magic myself, so that I can better protect myself from other people's curses."

"I understand. Then please look in the mirror."

Dylan stood up again, walked around the desk, and walked towards the Mirror of Erised that stood quietly on the side behind the desk.

He just stood still and his eyes met the mirror.

A cloud of fog gradually dissipated.

In the mirror.

Further away was a quiet forest with mist swirling through it, and it seemed as if many dark shadows were running around in it.

The view zooms in quickly.

In the center of the view is a manor.

It was Christmas time.

Snowflakes are drifting.

Colorful light strips meander around the railings, and small star-shaped lights flicker.

There are crystal icicles hanging under the eaves, as well as a Christmas tree full of ornaments.

The room was filled with liveliness.

Dylan saw himself at a glance and walked out of a door.

The scene inside the door was not clear because Dylan closed the door as soon as he came out.

There were many familiar faces around in the living room.

His parents were all smiles and were chatting animatedly with Fusco, with bursts of laughter emanating from time to time.

Harry and Hermione were eating dessert not far away, and Ginny was playing with Ron - the Weasleys were all there.

Old Dumbledore stood beside Professor Snape, holding a cup of hot drink, while several other professors were also looking for food.

After Dylan walked out of the door, he came to Vera.

Vera leaned towards him gently, her chestnut-blonde hair blowing in the warm breeze.

Dylan saw Vera in the mirror open her red lips and seemed to say something.

He himself also raised a gentle smile.

Then, his hand accidentally touched Vera's hand.

The two of them seemed to be electrocuted and quickly moved away, but they couldn't help but secretly glance at each other. A blush appeared on Vera's cold face.

Simply beautiful.

Dumbledore: ()~
"It seems that deep down in your heart, Dylan, what you long for is such a lively scene, with family, teachers, friends, and... Vera?"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed with a hint of ridicule: "Our young man is really full of energy, just like me when I was young."

The corners of Dylan's mouth twitched, his expression remained calm, but two blushes gradually appeared on his cheeks.

"Professor, am I done yet?"

"Of course—of course you've finished looking in the mirror."

Dumbledore drew out his voice with a meaningful smile on his face.

Dylan took a deep breath, hurried away from the magic mirror, almost jogging, and returned to the opposite side of Dumbledore, sitting down on the stool he had conjured with the Transfiguration Charm.

As soon as he sat down, he adjusted the corners of his clothes a little awkwardly.

Coughing lightly, Dylan tried to change the subject.

"Headmaster, have all the Aurors left the school yet?"

Dumbledore nodded and said, "Yes, Lucius will be in a lot of trouble. Miss Vera has taken him away, and the other Aurors have also left."

Seeing Dylan nod slightly, Dumbledore asked curiously, "Don't you want to ask why the Auror left so suddenly?"

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Why would you ask that? I'm not curious about that, Professor."

Dumbledore shrugged regretfully: "Okay."

Dylan looked at the Sorting Hat on the table and sat up straight without making a sound.

Why did Old Deng take out this thing?
Is he looking for an opportunity to kill him with one sword?

Are you really going to transform into Gandalf?
"Dylan, do you know what Gryffindor's relic is?"

"Of course, there are some records in a section of Hogwarts' school history. The Sword of Gryffindor, a relic of Gryffindor, is also one of the symbols of Gryffindor House. Even the Sorting Hat was originally a Gryffindor hat."

Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Yes, in fact, the Sword of Gryffindor is hidden in the Sorting Hat."

Dylan blinked. "During the Sorting Ceremony, I asked the hat about the inheritance of the four major houses, but it didn't tell me anything."

At this moment, the Sorting Hat, which had been like a decoration, suddenly turned around, grinned, and yelled at Dylan: "You little lunatic, stop pretending!"

"You knew then that the sword was with me!"

Dylan stared at the Sorting Hat for a moment.

The latter shrank back at the sight: "What do you want to do? Do you know where this is?"

"Of course I know, this is the principal's office." Dylan laughed and sat up straight again.

"You know you're still looking at me like that? Are you trying to set me on fire with a spell? Because I exposed your lies!" the Sorting Hat yelled.

"What lie? I never said I didn't know the Sword of Gryffindor was in your body." Dylan looked at it in confusion.

"As for why I was staring at you just now, sorry, I wasn't attacking you with my hat, but because this was the first time I saw you talking face to face at such a close distance."

The brim of the Sorting Hat tilted. "What's wrong with me?"

Dylan looked him up and down. "You look really strange. If Malfoy's rugged face is as ugly as an injustice, then when you open your mouth, it's a bit like a pair of sneakers with glue coming apart."

"You look quite profound when you look tattered, but once you open your mouth, all that depth is gone."

The floppy body of the Sorting Hat suddenly tightened, and the brim shook violently.

——As if he was trembling with anger.

This not only twisted its originally loose folds together, but also made the brim of the hat, which used to open and close freely, open wide without making any sound, and its appearance became even more difficult to describe.

Dylan curled his lips and said, "Now it's a bit like the Kraken in the novel."

"..."

The Sorting Hat was so angry that it stood there straight, with its top sticking up high.

Dumbledore was sitting opposite Dylan. Seeing the Sorting Hat being bullied like this, the corners of his mouth rose uncontrollably, revealing a row of neat teeth. He shrugged his shoulders slightly, raised his fingers, and adjusted his glasses.

I really want to see what the scene would be like if this little guy and Severus started arguing with each other.

If one of them is the hidden yin and yang, then the other one directly pushes the attack power to the maximum!

"Okay, kid, it can be very troublesome if the hat gets angry. Hogwarts will still need it to sort the houses at the end of this summer vacation."

Dumbledore winked at Dylan.

Dylan nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to anger the Sorting Hat. I was just telling the truth. Professor McGonagall taught me that one must be honest."

The Sorting Hat was so angry that it couldn't make a sound.

Dumbledore came to its rescue and said, "Why don't you evaluate me?"

Dylan nodded, his expression serious. "I see that your forehead is full, which is a sign of great blessings. Your brow is also bright and radiant, which shows that your mind is clear. I think you can live at least another hundred years."

"Hahahaha!"

Dumbledore suddenly burst into laughter.

"No wonder Minerva and the others praised you! Even Severus looked at you, a Gryffindor, with a kind face."

Dylan said sternly, "Professor, I'm just telling the truth. Please don't think I'm flattering you."

"Okay, okay, I believe you." He touched the tip of the Sorting Hat and changed the subject: "Child, do you want to master the sword of Gryffindor?"

Dylan was genuinely stunned this time. "The Sword of Gryffindor? Of course I want it, but what would I do with it? I'm a wizard, not a swordsman."

——Nonsense, of course he wants to hold the Sword of Gryffindor in his hands.

This holy sword was created by the goblin king Leknark I according to Gryffindor's design requirements. It not only has the ability to absorb specific substances and strengthen itself, but can also resist various spells.

Even if Dylan is not a swordsman, as a wizard, isn't it normal for him to hold a long sword?
But he certainly knew that Dumbledore would never give him the Sword of Gryffindor.

I don’t know if I’m secretly testing him by saying this to him.

In short, Dylan must not give the old man any excuse to talk about him.

Dumbledore blinked slightly, as if he wasn't expecting Dylan to answer like that.

"Well, that's a shame. I was going to ask you to keep the Sorting Hat for me."

"Ok?"

Dylan was stunned and looked up in surprise: "Let me keep the Sorting Hat? Why?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "After this lesson, I have a feeling that Hogwarts will not be peaceful in the future."

"So, I want to entrust someone. As long as the Sorting Hat is there, Gryffindor is there, and Hogwarts is there."

Dylan frowned. "I know, but why me? Professor McGonagall obviously looks more suitable to keep the Sorting Hat than me."

"Hahaha! Yes, logically speaking, that's right."

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, then raised his head and looked at Dylan quietly.

"However, none of us have your ability to predict the future. Son, tell me honestly, did you foresee this crisis in advance?"

Dylan nodded directly. "Of course there is, Professor, but I vaguely see that the ending doesn't seem to be too embarrassing."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"I heard from Harry that he seemed to have given the diary to you for inspection."

"Yes, Professor."

"So you really didn't see anything in the end?"

"No, Professor."

Dylan shook his head. "The diary wasn't vulnerable to the spells I cast, and when I tested it, I assumed some magic I couldn't yet understand was protecting its contents, as well as the diary itself."

"Just considering what has already happened, the presence of a soul in that diary, the fact that it cannot be destroyed by spells, and even more so by other means, all these characteristics indicate that the diary seems to be..."

"Horcrux?"

"Yes, Professor."

Dylan nodded. "Based on the knowledge of dark magic I've read in the Restricted Section, including my existing perspective, only a Horcrux can prove the existence of the diary."

"Is that really the case?" Dumbledore frowned slowly and sighed slowly, "If the disappeared notebook is really a Horcrux, I'm afraid what I predicted might really happen."

"Do you mean Harry? Or—are you worried about some other crisis that might come later?"

"..." Dumbledore smacked his lips. "All of them."

"Do you have any new predictions about either?"

"Aha, no."

Dumbledore blinked. "Why don't you tell me about Harry first? What do you think?"

Dylan paused, thought for a moment, and then said, "This isn't my prediction. I haven't been doing divination very often lately because I find it quite exhausting and it affects my studies."

"So you have a guess based on what you heard or saw?"

"Yes, Harry told me that Hermione and the others said that Parseltongue must be the descendants of Slytherin, but I don't think so."

"Why do you say that?"

Dylan either looked at Dumbledore or lowered his head slightly, looking at his toes, without glancing around the room.

"The scar on Harry's forehead was left when Voldemort killed his parents, right?"

"Is such that."

"That's right. Although I haven't found any books that record Horcruxes in detail in the Restricted Section, there are some books that more or less mention what Horcruxes are."

Dumbledore frowned slightly. "You mean to say that you think Harry was made into a Horcrux by Voldemort at that time?"

"Yes, but not entirely."

Dylan pursed his lips. "After all, the method for making a Horcrux should be extremely strict, right?"

"Haha, I'm not sure about that."

Dylan nodded. "After Voldemort killed Harry's parents, he also died."

"Therefore, it is not appropriate to say that Voldemort made Harry into a Horcrux. Perhaps Voldemort used some method when his soul collapsed."

"—For example, he shot a small piece of his soul into Harry's body through the Killing Curse he had cast, which ultimately caused Harry to become a Horcrux."

Dylan's face had a perfectly thoughtful look.

"And I remember that when Harry faced Quirrell, who was possessed by Voldemort, he sometimes felt a dull pain in the wound on his forehead, especially when Voldemort was finally about to steal the Philosopher's Stone - he was always holding his head in his dormitory during that time."

"Could it be that Voldemort's soul in his body sensed Voldemort's presence?"

Dylan's words and speculations made Dumbledore's expression pause slightly. His originally gentle look seemed to be shrouded in a faint shadow, adding a bit of solemnity.

He subconsciously adjusted his glasses, his fingers lingering on the frame briefly, then slowly lowered them.

It turned out to be Tom's soul...

Dumbledore's heart sank.

After Harry told him that he saw someone claiming to be Tom appear in the diary.

He suspected that the diary might have been made into a Horcrux by Voldemort when he was a student.

Even Harry had his suspicions.

Harry should have some kind of connection with Tom, which can be seen from the fact that he is a Parseltongue.

However, at first he just thought that it was the effect of Tom's magic on Harry.

But now, Dylan's suggestions pointed Harry's condition towards an extremely serious and difficult path for him.

Harry, became a Horcrux?
Dylan didn't pay attention to what Old Deng was thinking.

He grabbed the Sorting Hat from the table and fiddled with its corners.

"Hey! You bold little brat, what are you doing! Stop it!"

"Don't move. Let me see the material you're wearing. After all these years, you've managed to survive until now, and it only looks tattered. This material seems to be quite strong."

Dylan murmured, "I wonder if I can get some leather off you?"

"What did you say?!"

The Sorting Hat shuddered and opened its huge mouth in disbelief.

"You, you dare to cut me? Enough, stop picking at me! Put me down quickly!"

Dylan pouted, "I haven't cut you yet."

"You already have this idea, am I still worried that you won't be able to act on it? Put me down!"

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Let it go, do you think I'm missing you? Actually, I don't really want you. Don't be ridiculous. You're pretty average. I was just joking. You're not going to take it seriously, are you?"

Sorting Hat: ?

Dylan: "You really won't give it to me? Hahahaha, if you don't want to give it to me, then don't give it to me. I don't really care."

Sorting Hat: ???

After a moment of silence, it spoke softly, "Actually, you were lying when you said you wanted to go to Ravenclaw, right? I clearly sensed that you wanted to go to Gryffindor!"

"Besides, you really do belong in Gryffindor! A crazy little lion!"

Dylan made a "tsk" sound and threw the Sorting Hat back on Old Dumbledore's desk.

Their conversation also re-attracted Dumbledore's attention.

After recovering a little, Dumbledore was once again amused by Dylan, and the look in his eyes gradually softened.

However, he still had some questions to ask Dylan.

"This incident seems to be over, but it also seems not to be. Child - do you have a premonition of the final outcome?"

Dylan tilted his head, his peripheral vision catching sight of the numerous portraits on the walls of the principal's office.

Their expressions seemed a little solemn, and their eyes were all cast towards Dylan.

"Maybe. I saw everyone was laughing. I thought, this should have a good ending."

Dylan spoke slowly: "No matter what, in the end, Hogwarts is still standing here - that's what I see."

Dumbledore slowly leaned back, his body sinking into the back of the chair, and nodded slightly at Dylan. His silver hair swayed gently with his movements, and his long beard cascaded down like a waterfall, almost hanging down on his body.

"Really? Minerva said your predictions are very accurate—much more accurate than Professor Trilawney's. So I believe the result of your divination will be exactly as you see it."

Old Deng's lips opened and closed gently, and his voice was as thin as a thread, like a wisp of smoke wrapped in the air, which would dissipate if you were not careful.

"Professor, do you have any other questions?"

"Harry... can you handle him?"

"Oh my god, Professor, I don't want to finish Harry off. I'm just a second year still learning."

"Hehe, I was wrong. Go back. You still have a lot to learn."

"Yes, Professor, if you don't have any further questions, I'll leave now."

Dylan stood up.

Dumbledore had already leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed.

Seeing this, Dylan nodded slightly to Dumbledore, then turned and left the principal's office.

Wait until he leaves.

The office returned to silence, and even the slightest breathing sound could not be heard clearly.

Dumbledore was leaning back in his chair, his fingers lightly folded over his chest.

After the sound of the door closing completely faded away, he slowly opened his eyes and glanced at the portrait on the wall.

At the same time, the portraits opened their eyes and focused their gaze on Dumbledore.

"What do you think?"

An old principal wearing a tall hat and a serious expression was the first to speak in a low voice: "This child is not simple, he has hidden thoughts, but - I don't think he is a bad kid."

Dumbledore chuckled and said, "Dylan is very smart. I don't think he will be a bad boy. You can tell from the result given by the magic mirror."

A female headmistress in an exquisite robe crossed her arms and said, "He's only in the second grade, and he has such thoughts. Isn't he a bad boy?"

The skinny principal hanging next to him curled his lips and said, "What kind of bad kid is this? If that can be called bad, then I am simply bad to the core."

The headmistress rolled her eyes in disgust and ignored him.

Dumbledore listened to the chatter of the portraits around him, and a hint of deep thought slowly drifted across his eyes.

"In short, the magic mirror can't lie. Regarding Karsus, we need to consider other candidates."

(End of this chapter)