Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

"I'll stop talking to you two for now. Professor Dumbledore is probably still waiting for me."

Dylan's body gradually melted away, turning into countless wisps of thick black mist. These wisps of mist swirled and coiled in the night wind, gradually coalescing into a wisp of shadowy shape.

Without making a sound, it slowly rose into the dark blue night sky, passing over the lights of the Quidditch stadium, and soon shrank into a small black dot on the distant horizon.

"Huh? What's this?" Malfoy was taken aback.

Before the shadowy figure had completely faded from view, Professor McGonagall's calm voice broke the surrounding silence.

"Mr. Malfoy, why haven't you left yet? Do you have other plans?" She stood there, her sharp gaze fixed on Lucius Malfoy. Her aura as the vice-principal of Hogwarts made the air heavier.

Lucius slowly lowered his head, his gaze following the voice to Professor McGonagall, a familiar, enigmatic smile on his face, his tone carrying a perfectly measured hint of bewilderment: "Other plans? What do you mean by that, Professor?"

“Karkaroff’s reaction is unusual.” Moody’s husky voice rang out, his metallic magic eye darting around, locking onto Lucius’s left arm along with his normal eye. “When he lost his composure just now, I saw it clearly; he had a dark magic mark on his arm.”

The demonic eye pierced through Lucius's loose silk sleeves, carefully examining the surface of his skin, and finally let out a slightly surprised snort, "But there's not a single mark on your arm."

"I don't really understand."

Lucius frowned almost imperceptibly, a genuine look of confusion flashing in his eyes, as if he couldn't understand why Moody was suddenly paying attention to his arm.

Professor McGonagall noticed his expression and softened her tone, adding, "Mr. Malfoy, if you have no other plans, please come back to the castle with us."

These words lacked any warmth of invitation; they were more like a routine announcement, carrying the sense of responsibility and scrutiny that a Hogwarts professor would show towards his students.

After saying that, she nodded slightly to Lucius and Draco, who looked slightly impatient beside her, and then turned and led Moody and the others toward the Quidditch pitch.

Upon entering the stadium, the professors all showed expressions of surprise.

The Hogwarts students inside were orderly, standing in neat rows according to their prefects' instructions. Although there was still a trace of tension on their faces, there was no chaos at all, and they did not look like they had just experienced the appearance of the Dark Mark.

Soon, the prefects stepped forward to report the situation. When the Black Mark suddenly appeared in the night sky, the students did indeed panic, and many even tried to run away. It was Dylan who stepped forward immediately, calmly reassuring everyone and quickly directing the prefects to maintain order, thus stabilizing the situation that was about to spiral out of control.

"As expected of my student, you've really saved me a lot of trouble." Professor McGonagall smiled.

Professor Flitwick stroked his beard with a smile, his eyes full of pure satisfaction: "Indeed, Dylan always manages to step up at crucial moments and help us solve big problems. Of course, he's also my student."

Professor McGonagall glared at him.

“Minerva, let’s get back to the castle as soon as possible,” another professor suggested. “Let’s make sure the students are settled first, so that if anything happens to Albus, we can rush over and lend a hand.”

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement, said no more, and quickened her pace with the group.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere was quite different on the open ground outside the Quidditch pitch.

Barty Crouch's wand flashed with a blinding white light, and the spell struck Karkaroff, who was in a state of emotional turmoil. Karkaroff groaned and fell straight to the ground.

Having dealt with the immediate problem, Old Barty immediately turned his wand around, aimed it at the still clearly visible Dark Mark in the sky, and hurriedly chanted a dispelling spell. Waves of silver magic surged from the tip of his wand, enveloping the Dark Mark in layers.

However, after several attempts, he slowly shook his head, a look of seriousness on his face, and turned to Dumbledore beside him, saying, "It still doesn't work. My magic has no effect on it at all."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, raised his wand towards the fallen Karkaroff, and with a slight movement of his fingertips, a soft golden light fell upon him. Karkaroff's eyelids fluttered a few times, and he slowly opened his eyes. As soon as he awoke, a piercing burning pain shot through his left arm. He looked up sharply and saw the still menacing Dark Mark in the sky. His face instantly turned bright red, and he could no longer suppress the irritation and anger in his heart.

"What's going on? Why hasn't it been dealt with yet?" He stood up abruptly, his knuckles white from clenching his fists, and demanded angrily at Dumbledore and Barty Crouch, "Why hasn't this damn mark disappeared?"

Just as Karkaroff was roaring in fury, the Ministry of Magic employees who had been knocked unconscious earlier began to wake up one after another. As soon as they opened their eyes, they were drawn to the dark shadow in the sky. The terrifying memories of being dominated by Voldemort in the past flooded back to them, making them tremble uncontrollably.

A trembling voice shot through someone as they pointed a finger at the dark figure in the night sky and screamed, "The mysterious man is back! He's come for us!"

Cornelius Fudge couldn't get a word in edgewise with Dumbledore and Barty's conversation. He paced anxiously back and forth, trampling the lawn beneath his feet until the once lush grass was wilted. Hearing the staff's screams, his heart skipped a beat. He frantically reached into his pocket for his wand, his fingers trembling so badly that he almost dropped it as soon as he pulled it out.

"That person is here! That person is here!" He gripped his wand tightly with both hands, but his arms still trembled uncontrollably. The tip of the wand swayed incessantly towards the night sky. "Quick! Attack! Everyone, attack immediately!"

“It’s not Voldemort.” Dumbledore’s calm voice rang out at the right moment, drowning out the panic and screams around him. “It’s Dylan.”

Upon hearing Dumbledore's assessment, the Ministry of Magic staff exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and a slight relaxation as they lowered their wands, their fear gradually replaced by confusion.

“Dylan? Why is he so dark?” Cornelius Fudge was taken aback.

"Headmaster, I think I'll pass on the castle."

As the fog completely dissipated, Dylan's figure appeared clearly before everyone's eyes. He landed steadily on the grass outside the Quidditch pitch, the blades of grass bending slightly before quickly springing back without a sway, as if he had never left. Many people in the stadium were drawn to this sudden change, and Connelly Fudge stared at Dylan's figure with a furrowed brow.

Why is this guy flying over like that? Just like that damn Oblivion!
It almost scared someone to death!
"Although the school doesn't forbid you from studying dark magic, Dylan, you must remember not to use it too much when you're researching it," Old Deng cautioned.

Dylan smiled. "I know the principal."

"What? You actually let him learn dark magic without any scruples???" Cornelius Fudge stared wide-eyed.

But nobody paid any attention to him.

Dylan didn't pay much attention to the different looks from the crowd. He simply nodded slightly to the few familiar professors and officials around him as a greeting.

After being taken to the Ministry of Magic by Old Man Dumbledore and given a title.

Dylan also noticed that Old Deng seemed to be more lenient in his management.

So lenient.
It didn't even feel like I was facing a student.

For example, Old Man Deng didn't forbid him from studying black magic at all; in fact, he would even give him some support.

Then, Dylan turned directly to Dumbledore, his tone calm but with undeniable concern: "Headmaster Dumbledore, do we still have no way to remove the Dark Mark in the air?"

Dumbledore slowly shook his head, his white beard swaying gently with the movement, his eyes filled with a hint of solemnity: "Mr. Crouch has tried every conventional method we know of."

He paused, then began to recount in detail Barty Crouch's previous efforts, "but none of them succeeded."

“I understand.” Dylan nodded slightly, showing no surprise, as if he had already anticipated this outcome.

His gaze fell upon the still menacing black demon mark high in the sky, his thoughts drifting.

When Voldemort ran rampant in the English magical world, the Death Eaters would always leave this chilling mark in the sky after committing atrocities and harming innocent wizards or their families. They wanted to use this bloody and cruel method to deeply imprint fear in the hearts of every English wizard, so that everyone would bow down to Voldemort.

In order to curb the spread of panic, the Ministry of Magic developed a method to deal with the Dark Mark, but according to what Old Man Dumbledore just said, this method, which has been used for many years, is now obviously ineffective.

Dylan has no intention of revealing Karthus's identity directly, so he won't take action to remove the mark. After a moment, he looked at Dumbledore again.

"If my guess is correct, the core principle of the method for removing Dark Marks devised by the Ministry of Magic back then should be derived from the anti-stalking spell, right?"

As soon as Dylan finished speaking, the Ministry of Magic staff present instinctively looked at Cornelius Fudge.

After all, Fudge had served in the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters for many years before becoming Minister of Magic, and even served as the deputy director of the department. Dealing with incidents such as the Dark Mark is one of the core responsibilities of the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters, so he must be most familiar with it.

Cornelius Fudge's expression changed slightly, clearly not expecting Dylan to bring it up suddenly. He pursed his lips, looking somewhat reluctant, but under everyone's gaze, he finally nodded: "That's true."

"Now that this has been confirmed, all the previous questions can be explained."

Dylan continued, "The Dark Marks left by the Death Eaters were spells cast after they committed their crimes. This kind of magic is like a Tracking Charm; the caster leaves a specific trace of magical activity after performing the action. The magical powder produced after the Tracking Charm is cast can precisely adhere to these traces. The Dark Marks left by the Death Eaters work on the same principle."

“The Dark Mark from back then was a fully completed spell with no subsequent energy supply, which is why the Ministry of Magic’s method of countering the tracking spell was effective.” Dylan’s gaze returned from the sky to the faces of the crowd, and he continued his analysis with a confident tone, “But the one that is currently floating in the air is probably in a state of continuous casting, with energy constantly being replenished, so conventional methods naturally cannot remove it.”

He abruptly changed the subject, turning his gaze to Karkarov, who was pale and trembling beside him, his eyes filled with inquiry: "Mr. Karkarov, I would like to confirm something with you."

"When the Dark Mark first appeared in the night sky, besides the burning pain in your arm, did you feel anything else? Like... the excruciating pain of being continuously attacked by the Crucifixion Curse?"

"You actually knew?!" Upon hearing this, Karkarov seemed to have been struck on a sore spot, and suddenly screamed, his voice sharp and piercing, filled with unbelievable fear. "Only those who have experienced it can understand this feeling!"

“Just as I suspected.” Dylan ignored his lapse in composure, simply nodding calmly as he explained to everyone present, “When Voldemort created the Dark Mark, he incorporated various magical techniques, including his profound understanding of the Crucifixion. He used a continuous casting method similar to the Crucifixion to constantly supply energy to the holder of the Dark Mark, allowing the mark to remain visible.”

These words were not mere speculation, but rather the result of Dylan's complete mastery of the Dark Mark.

Upon hearing Dylan's explanation, Karkaroff's mental defenses completely crumbled. His legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the cold lawn. His eyes were unfocused, his face ashen, like a terminally ill patient on the verge of death. He murmured incessantly, his voice weak yet filled with despair: "He's back... The Dark Lord is really back... This time there's no escaping... no escaping."

Barty Crouch frowned, ignoring the distraught Karkaroff sprawled on the ground, and refocused his attention on Dylan: "Dylan, do you have any ideas? Albus is willing to let you study dark magic, so you must have a lot of talent in this area, right?"

Dylan smiled and slowly walked towards Karkaroff, who was lying on the ground. After stopping, he spoke in a calm but authoritative tone: "Mr. Karkaroff, I hope you can understand my actions. This is also to resolve the current crisis as soon as possible."

As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his wand, the tip pointing at Karkaroff.

A dazzling red light shot from the tip of the wand, striking Karkaroff precisely in the body. (End of Chapter)