Hogwarts : Max Level Unforgivable Curse

"This troll…"

Professor Snape's voice broke the silence.

He glanced at Dylan, who was blinking at him with an expectant look on his face.

"The materials it can yield will be handed directly to you when ready."

Dylan immediately responded with a smile, "Yes, Professor!"

He didn't even need to lift a finger. Professor Snape had already arranged everything, including how to harvest the materials from the troll's body.

Snape glanced at the troll's corpse. "A very powerful Fire-Making Spell."

Dylan smiled modestly.

"However, you burned off its beard and snot. Next time, try not to use such a spell."

Dylan's smile froze.

What did Professor Snape mean by that? 

Was he simply advising him not to ruin valuable potion ingredients next time? 

Or… had he noticed something unusual? 

Dylan glanced at the troll's corpse out of the corner of his eye.

Logically, with his buffs in place, no one should be able to detect traces of dark magic. 

Professor Snape shouldn't have noticed anything! 

Dylan had even considered the differences between the burn marks of the Fire-Making Spell and Fiendfyre.

After all, with his mastery of Fiendfyre, he could precisely control the burns on the troll's body to ensure no one could tell the difference. 

No one should be able to look at the corpse and immediately recognize it as the work of Fiendfyre rather than a simple Fire-Making Spell.

"Calm down, Dylan. Don't panic. Even if someone suspects you know Fiendfyre, who would guess you also know the Killing Curse? If anyone dares to question you, just…"

Dylan's thoughts were interrupted when he felt Professor Snape's gaze on him.

He quickly stopped his mental ramblings.

He had almost forgotten—Professor Snape was a master Legilimens. 

Even without casting a spell, he could likely sense the emotions and thoughts radiating from Dylan.

"Alright, it's time for you all to head back and rest."

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall spoke up.

Professor Snape shifted his gaze from Dylan, gave Harry a sharp look, and then swept out of the room, his black robes billowing behind him.

Harry rubbed his nose, confused. 

Why did Snape always seem to have it out for him?

Dylan noticed this too. 

It seemed someone was going to be in trouble soon.

"But that's none of my business."

Dylan looked up. 

"I'll take my leave now, Professor McGonagall."

He smiled politely at her and then left the room with Harry and the others.

Quirrell, standing beside Professor McGonagall, silently watched Dylan's retreating figure, his eyes flickering with curiosity.

Dylan was also skilled in Legilimency. 

Even though he couldn't see behind him, he could feel a piercing gaze, filled with scrutiny, directed at him.

"Voldemort on high—or rather, on Quirrell's head."

Dylan responded to Harry and Ron's excited questions while quietly pondering.

"Is Quirrell and Voldemort sharing control of the body right now, or is Voldemort dormant while Quirrell acts on his own?"

It seemed Quirrell had already taken notice of him.

"Well, if he tries anything, I'll make sure Voldemort gets a taste of the Cruciatus Curse."

Back in the dormitory, Dylan continued reading as if nothing had happened. 

Harry, meanwhile, went with Ron to apologize to Hermione.

Seamus and Neville, who had been waiting for their return, breathed a sigh of relief. 

They were about to ask questions, but when they saw Dylan pull out a book and start reading intently, they exchanged a glance and left to find Harry and the others.

By November, the weather had turned bitterly cold. 

Even the Black Lake had frozen over, with a thick layer of ice covering its surface. 

Dylan saw some students skating on it, though they were quickly chased away.

One morning, while checking on Luna, his owl, Dylan noticed she was curled up lazily, refusing to interact with him.

"What a shame. I bought some ferret jerky, but if no owl wants it, I'll just feed it to Coal."

"Hoot?!"

Luna immediately poked her head out, her ears perked up and her eyes wide as she stared at Dylan.

"You little glutton."

Dylan chuckled, feeding her a few pieces of jerky before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Afterward, he prepared for Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class.

The troll incident hadn't caused much of a stir at Hogwarts. 

It seemed to have been deliberately downplayed. 

However, a few days after Halloween, Dylan received a package of potion ingredients from Professor Snape.

And it wasn't just materials from the troll! 

Snape had included several other rare and valuable ingredients, some of which were nearly impossible to buy, even with money.

This made Dylan view Snape in a much more favorable light. 

Even the greasy hair seemed… stylish. 

If anyone dared to say Snape didn't wash his hair, Dylan would vehemently defend him! 

What nonsense! The shine in Snape's hair was clearly a unique aesthetic—a wizard's style!

After a day of classes, Dylan once again sat beside Professor McGonagall for his extra lessons.

Once the lesson was over, Dylan remained seated instead of leaving immediately.

"Professor, thank you for your guidance. It's given me a much deeper understanding of Transfiguration."

He spoke sincerely.

Professor McGonagall looked at the bright young wizard before her, her eyes filled with pride and satisfaction.

"It's my duty to nurture talent at Hogwarts. You don't need to thank me."

Dylan smiled and pulled out his wand. 

He wasn't about to cast the Killing Curse at her, but he did want to demonstrate a new spell he had been working on.

"Oh? You've created a new spell?"

Professor McGonagall sounded surprised but also intrigued.

"Not exactly created—more like innovated."

Dylan placed his water cup on the table. 

"Would you like some tea? Or perhaps milk?"

Professor McGonagall blinked. "Tea would be fine."

Dylan nodded and waved his wand. 

"Lactea repleta (Fill with milk tea)!"

A shower of pink sparkles burst from his wand, followed by the rich aroma of milk and a hint of tea. 

The tip of his wand acted like a magical fountain, and a stream of奶茶 arced gracefully into their cups.

Soon, both cups were full.

"Here you go."

Dylan grinned.

"A very clever spell."

Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly, then glanced at the cups on the table. 

"But you don't expect me to drink from your personal cup, do you?"

(End of chapter)