Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

These two completely different faces were forcibly intertwined on the same phantom, one half covered in cold-blooded snake scales and the other half a distorted human face. They were close together yet repelled each other, as if they would tear apart at any moment. The eerie feeling that defied common sense made the Aurors present feel a chill and subconsciously tighten their grip on their wands.

No!

I want to escape!
Voldemort was about to flee.

Dylan, however, curled his lips into a smile and turned his wand slightly.

hum!
Voldemort felt his soul resonate strongly with something—this resonance was no longer a simple sensation, but a deep bond, more intimate than the original connection, as if another shackle had been placed on his soul.

The sudden change caused Voldemort's phantom to freeze, a look of confusion flashing in its eyes. Before it could figure out what Dylan had done, an even more violent pain swept over it like a tsunami, instantly engulfing its consciousness.

"what--!"

A piercing wail echoed across the island once more, this time the pain was even more intense than before, as if countless blunt knives were repeatedly cutting into his soul. With the wail, a deep crack suddenly appeared on the top of Voldemort's phantom head, the snake face and the human face were pulled to the sides, revealing a dark hole in the middle, the signs of the soul being torn apart were already evident.

Alarm bells rang in Voldemort's mind.

Antonin Dolokhov must die!

Voldemort pointed the real wand hidden in his sleeve at his head.

His phantom writhed in the air, a fierce and resolute glint in his eyes, as he roared the killing curse: "Avada Kedavra!"

A burst of green light erupted from the tip of the wand, forming a swirling vortex that exuded a deadly aura. The killing curse was not aimed at anyone, but struck directly at Antonin Dolokhov's head, and the vortex instantly unleashed a suction force.

Dolokhov is dead.

Voldemort's soul was also freed from its restraints and completely separated from his body.

At this moment, Voldemort no longer had the thought of killing Dylan; only one obsession remained—escape! He had to escape Azkaban and Dylan's spell range as soon as possible!
He mobilized the last remaining magic power within his body, and with his powerful will, he propelled his remnant soul, which had turned into black smoke, towards the sky at an extreme speed.

The Aurors stared in disbelief at the scene, their faces filled with astonishment.

They had witnessed countless bizarre magical duels in their lives, but they had never seen anyone use a killing curse on them, especially to allow their remnant soul to escape!

After a brief silence, the Aurors looked at each other, and they all saw the same thought in each other's eyes: what happened tonight was simply too far-fetched.

First, Dylan, a student, directly confronted Voldemort, and now he has witnessed Voldemort using the Killing Curse on him to escape—even the most absurd fantasy novels probably wouldn't dare to write such a plot.

But the facts were right before their eyes, leaving them no choice but to believe it.

Rufus Scrimgeour took a deep breath, regaining his composure first, and said in a deep voice, "Clean up the battlefield immediately, take stock of the casualties, and closely monitor the surrounding sea area. We must not allow any remaining Death Eaters to escape!"

The Aurors then seemed to wake from a dream and responded to the call to action. However, in each of their hearts, there was a deep sense of dread regarding the dark wizard who had disappeared into the sky.

The black smoke that Voldemort had transformed into completely disappeared at the horizon, and the suffocating aura of dark magic gradually dissipated.

Dylan slowly lowered his wand, and the magical light at the tip of the wand faded away.

Hmph~ Little Fuzi.

You're still too inexperienced.

All they know is how to hide.

Dumbledore took a few steps forward and stopped beside Antonin Dolokhov's body. He gently twirled his wand, and a soft white light emanated from the tip of the wand, enveloping the corpse's face.

The face that was originally covered by Voldemort's shapeshifting magic gradually returned to its original state under the effect of the white light—a face with sharp features and deep-set eyes, just like the Death Eater Antonin Dolokhov.

Dumbledore let out a soft breath, his tone tinged with relief, "Well, perhaps this is the best outcome for him."

Dylan nodded.

Dumbledore then pointed his wand at the prisoners who were still slumped on the ground. The tip of the wand shimmered with a faint blue light as it slowly swept over the prisoners, clearly checking their condition to see if there were any hidden dangers or undetected remnants of dark magic.

"never mind."

The island of Azkaban had changed significantly since then. Perhaps because the Dementors had already defected, and because of the repeated burning by Fiendfire and lightning, the perennial chilling atmosphere on the island had faded considerably. One could even feel a faint ray of sunlight piercing through the clouds and shining on the devastated ruins.

On the deck of the magic ship docked at the shore, Cornelius Fudge remained huddled in a corner the entire time, not daring to show his face. The commotion from the battle was too astonishing; the roar of collapsing boulders, the crackling of burning flames, and the explosions of colliding magic made his heart pound with fear.

Even after the commotion subsided, he still dared not peek out to check the situation, fearing he might encounter unexpected danger.

"Minister Fudge, are you alright?" Nymphadora Tonks strode forward, trying to maintain a formal and serious tone. She looked at Fudge's disheveled appearance, but couldn't hide the smile in her eyes, and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

Cornelius Fudge struggled to his feet, trying to straighten his back and maintain the composure of the Minister of Magic: "It's nothing."

"Is the battle over?" he asked eagerly, his voice brimming with barely concealed surprise. "Where is he? Was he completely defeated?"

Thinking that he would be remembered in history if he could completely eliminate Voldemort, this major threat, during his term, Fudge's face couldn't help but show a look of longing.

"Regarding the mysterious man, well, I don't know." "He eventually turned into black smoke and escaped; his exact whereabouts are currently unknown."

what? !

He escaped?

How could Dumbledore let someone escape?!

What a waste!

Seeing Fudge's anxious expression, everyone shook their heads gently.

“Minister Fudge,” Dumbledore’s calm voice rang out at the right moment, easing the awkwardness of the situation, “regarding Voldemort, even I would find it difficult to explain to you in simple terms.”

Before he finished speaking, Dumbledore turned around and raised his wand at the calm sea. With his movement, the sea instantly surged with violent waves, the water churning and surging as if controlled by an invisible force. In a short moment, a huge magical ship appeared in the waves—its hull was made of sturdy magical wood, its sails were painted with the emblem of the Ministry of Magic, and its deck was wide and flat, large enough to accommodate all the Aurors and prisoners.

"Then what are the follow-up countermeasures..." Cornelius Fudge's face turned deathly pale instantly, devoid of any color. After the series of events tonight, he was no longer as calm as before. He fully understood what a terrifying existence he was about to face. Especially after witnessing Dumbledore's unfathomable strength, he clearly realized how foolish his previous actions of underestimating Voldemort and questioning Dumbledore had been.

Endless regret surged within him—if only he had recognized Voldemort's threat sooner, trusted Dumbledore's judgment earlier, and fully supported the Order of the Phoenix's actions, perhaps things wouldn't have come to this. But there's no going back, so he could only forcefully suppress his remorse, grit his teeth, and follow the others onto the magical ship.

"It has been a long night." Dumbledore stretched, loosening his stiff body from the long hours of tension. His voice carried a hint of weariness, yet was full of anticipation for the future. "But even the longest night will eventually give way to dawn, and a new day will always arrive as scheduled."

He turned to look at Dylan, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, his eyes gentle: "Dylan, the battle is over, you should get some rest."

Upon hearing this, Dylan slowly closed his notebook. He raised his head and looked out at the distant sea beyond the council chamber window, his eyes deep, as if he sensed something special.

After a moment, he looked away and shook his head at Dumbledore: "Headmaster Dumbledore, I have some things to take care of, so I won't be going back to the school for the time being."

"Is there anything else to do?" Dumbledore blinked, not asking further, but gently admonishing, "In that case, go ahead, and be careful in everything you do."

Dylan nodded, turned and walked out of the cabin, his figure quickly disappearing at the end of the deck.

The sea surface was completely different from the calm inside the council chamber.

A group of Dementors silently swept across the dark sea, their tattered black cloaks fluttering in the night wind, exuding a suffocating chill. The already gloomy sea became even more so in their presence, and the temperature in the air seemed to drop sharply.

The surging waves crashed against the sea, but before the splashing water droplets could even touch the edge of the Dementor's cloak, they had already condensed into tiny ice particles in the extreme cold, falling back onto the sea with a soft rustling sound, stirring up faint ripples.

Just then, a warm, orange-red flame suddenly appeared beside a Dementor. This flame, like the rising sun, instantly dispelled the biting chill brought by the Dementor and illuminated a section of the surrounding sea. Behind the flame, a tall, slender figure gradually appeared—it was Dylan.

"Yes, now all the Dementors are mine."

Dylan chuckled to himself, then his figure vanished once more.

No Dementors detected his presence.

At first, none of the Dementors paid any attention to what was happening. They maintained their loose formation and silently skimmed across the cold sea, completely unaware of the successive disappearances of their companions.

After all, Dementors do not have a strong sense of group consciousness. They gather together by instinct and it is common for them to scatter. It was not until more and more of their companions disappeared into thin air that this "accident" gradually became closely related to the survival of each Dementor, and their dull senses finally caught the anomaly.

What caused all of this was a strange-looking guardian spirit, unlike any guardian spirit the Dementors had ever encountered before. It was furry, like a ball, and somewhat like a Qilin, but not quite.

It's really weird.

And it's ugly.

How can there be such an ugly guardian deity?
Who is this for?

But it doesn't matter. No matter whose guardian it is, it's so ugly that no Dementor would want to get close to it.

Dementors rely on the ability to feed on emotions, but they cannot absorb this pure, fearless courage. Therefore, they simply watch the guardian charge towards them indifferently, and then stop paying attention and continue flying towards the distant coastline, where the "fertile land" they yearn for is waiting for them to feed on the positive emotions of countless humans, such as happiness, hope, and joy.

As expected, the ugly Guardian that launched the charge vanished into thin air the moment it touched the Dementors, leaving no trace as if it had never existed. Only a few tattered cloaks fluttering in the sea breeze remained in the air, the only traces left by the Dementors that had just come into contact with the Guardian. The other Dementors vaguely recognized them, but couldn't quite place where they had seen them before.

However, this happened again and again. To their surprise, the ugly guardian spirit still hovered in the air, as if the one that had just disappeared was just an illusion. Then, the ugly guardian spirit charged again, heading straight into the group of dementors, and disappeared instantly. A few more tattered cloaks fluttered in the night sky, and yet another dementor vanished into thin air.

Once, twice, three times... The dulled nerves of these Dementors were finally touched, and a long-lost sense of alarm surged forth. They finally realized that their companions had not left on their own, but had disappeared along with the ugly guardian's charge. Those fluttering tattered cloaks were proof of their companions' dissipation.

But by then it was too late. The Dementors finally panicked and tried to scatter and escape, only to find that the ugly guardian spirit no longer concealed its light. Instead, it suddenly accelerated, flying at an astonishing speed, circling the group of Dementors again and again. The fur around its body shimmered with a strong silver light, forming an invisible barrier that firmly trapped all the Dementors, preventing them from finding any way to escape the sea or reach the "fertile land" they longed for.

As the last Dementor was destroyed, the ugly guardian in the sky slowly dimmed its light, transforming into a stream of light and dissipating into the night. The sea, which had been frozen by the Dementor's chilling aura, gradually returned to normal. The splashing waves no longer condensed into ice particles, and the seawater once again surged with a salty, damp scent. The night seemed to have become much softer.

Dylan stretched and a relaxed smile appeared on his face.

With so many Dementors, he could conduct his experiments.

"Well, it's time to go back to Hogwarts." (End of Chapter)