At the edge of the dais, the candlelight suddenly flickered with a ghostly green hue. Professor Snape's long fingers brushed along the bronze railing as he shifted his weight gracefully, his black robes billowing around him.
"Let me see how far you've come," his deep, gravelly voice—laden with that signature icy chill of a dark-robed professor—cut through the silence.
As he stepped onto the final step, a wand slipped from his cloak sleeve, and the flickering candlelight carved his gaunt cheek into stark contrasts of light and shadow.
Before Dylan could finish his sentence—"I'll do my best to please you—"—his wand jerked upward in a sudden motion.
"**Sectumsempra!**"
"**Sectumsempra!**"
Almost simultaneously, Dylan launched his attack while Professor Snape, ever composed, lifted his own wand in a measured response. Two searing beams of jet-black magic erupted, brimming with lethal force, and collided with a thunderous crash!
"Hmph, you sure do have some neat little moves," Snape snorted coldly.
But Dylan only offered a slight smile. "You're unfair, Professor—I wouldn't call my actions mere tricks!" Then, with a sly glance at his own refined spell attributes, he thought to himself:
——————
**[Dark Blade Disguise]: When using Sectumsempra, you can choose to conceal its traces!**
——————
This new feature had been unlocked during his summer break—while he was painfully grappling with the third stage of the Heart-Piercing Curse's agonizing spread. Since it was only the first tier of refinement, the task was simple enough: just use Sectumsempra to slice open the bellies of a hundred creatures. Thanks to those adorably prolific little critters, Dylan finished in no time.
In fact, Dylan could achieve the same effect by shelling out a hundred Galleons to upgrade his wand with a transparent attack visual. But this property let him, during a normal attack, deliver an unexpected surprise. After all, if every spell left no trace, his enemies would eventually catch on. Instead, if he struck suddenly, he could really catch them off guard—then switch his wand's effect to plain colorless and unleash a furious barrage. Who's gonna stand a chance, right? 😏
"Swish, swish, swish!"
Just as Professor Snape, his face as cold as ever, opened his mouth to speak, several whooshing sounds sliced through the air toward him.
Snape's eyes widened slightly. "**Protego!**"
"Ding, ding, ding!"
Several razor-sharp magical slashes deflected around him, but not before a huge tear was carved into his billowing black robes. In an instant, Snape's expression darkened.
Dylan paused and shrunken his neck slightly, "Professor, I'll get you some new robes later."
"**Sectumsempra!**" Dylan shouted, his wand never pausing as he continued, "**Finite!**"
Snape twisted his wrist, "**Expelliarmus!**"
Dylan struck again.
Reacting swiftly, Snape lifted his wand for a rapid counterattack—without even pausing to incant, he fired off a series of spells in quick succession, deflecting Dylan's onslaught and countering in return.
"Multicasting, huh?" Snape remarked.
Dylan, feeling the roaring spells closing in, dodged swiftly while flicking his arm. "**Expelliarmus!**" (x10)
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
"**Sectumsempra!**" (x10)
Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish—
A full twenty bursts of magical energy erupted, ten of which vanished into the void immediately after shooting out.
For a moment, Professor Snape was taken aback—his deep eyes narrowing, his thin lips parting in rare surprise. Perhaps Dylan's gift of shampoo and potions had finally run out—Snape's hair, once again, looked greasy. Or maybe Snape just refused to use the "Potter" shampoo available on the market, or to bother concocting his own cleansing potion.
As Dylan's spells whizzed past, a few strands of his dark hair were swept across his forehead.
"**Finite!**"
"**Impedimenta!**"
Snape fired off a flurry of spells, blocking Dylan's attacks and quickly countering with his own. In the blink of an eye, the center of the platform was nearly submerged in a barrage of magic. Yet Dylan's ten-spell combo feature meant that even if his control wasn't as refined as Snape's, they ended up launching nearly the same number of spells. While Snape could cast several spells simultaneously, Dylan was capable of unleashing the same spell in rapid succession—ten times at once. Hey, magic doesn't cost a dime—just throw it out there!
"Boom!"
Amidst the swirling barrage, Dylan and Snape clashed fiercely. In one continuous outburst, Dylan unleashed a hundred bursts of Sectumsempra, nearly draining his own mental energy. This left Snape momentarily unable to counter all the spells as a barrage of razor-sharp attacks exploded in front of him—forcing him to step back abruptly; his shoe barely clinging to the edge of the dais, nearly knocking him off.
With a cold, steely expression, Snape flicked his wand and instantly regained his footing. Dylan too halted his onslaught, his wand dropping to his side as he panted heavily. Neither of them moved a muscle.
"Are you insane? Do you not value your life?" snapped Snape.
Dylan, still nursing a throbbing headache, was at a loss for words and could only stare blankly at Snape.
Professor McGonagall hurried over, her face etched with concern. "How can you possibly cast a hundred spells at once? How did you manage that?—No, now's not the time to ask; I'm saying this approach will spell trouble for you!"
Snape then produced a potion bottle, waved his wand softly, and the vial drifted slowly in front of Dylan. Before Dylan could even unscrew the cap, the potion swirled on its own, uncapping itself and flying straight to his mouth. All he had to do was open his mouth, and the vial tilted, dumping the restorative potion into him. Almost immediately, thanks to those achievement boosts, his nearly exhausted mental and magical energies bounced back.
Dylan gave his head a slight shake. "Hiss…" he murmured—it still stung a little.
McGonagall frowned, her concern deepening. "This was only an assessment—our private trial! You don't need to completely drain your magic; that will harm your body!" she stressed.
Dylan sighed and, once nearly back to full strength, flashed a grin. "Don't worry, Professors—I know my limits." 🙂
Snape, his tone icily biting, retorted, "Your so-called limits are like a snail's thread—so thin and weak!"
Dylan just scratched his head in embarrassment. He couldn't possibly mention the achievement rewards that helped him recover, so he quickly changed the subject. "Professor, it looks like I won in the end, right?"
Snape snorted dismissively, his face still etched with disdain. "Yes, you did catch me off guard—though only because you nearly ruined yourself to death."
Dylan chuckled a goofy little laugh, and seeing him like that, Snape almost wanted to slap him on the head 🤦—but, "No, I must hold back; I'm Snape, after all!"
After biting his tongue, Snape's thin lips twitched as he said, "If luck hadn't been on your side, you'd have been hit by a magical backlash and knocked unconscious ages ago—next time, no one will be able to save you, you fool!"
McGonagall just blinked, and Dylan dared not speak further, silently accepting Snape's "sage advice."
Meanwhile, Snape paused his tirade for a moment, his tone softening slightly as he managed to squeeze out a remark: "But you did best me—your performance in this duel was pretty impressive."
At that moment, Dumbledore's warm voice rang out, "Continuously casting spells is dangerous—each spell must be executed with absolute precision, or else trouble is bound to happen."
Our old headmaster then stepped onto the platform, with Professor Flitwick trailing behind. "McGonagall is right—your actions were bold—but I must ask, how on earth did you manage to unleash so many spells in a row just now?"
Dumbledore's gaze fell on Dylan. "It's the rapid-fire technique I've been working on—just some nifty little tricks. I tried teaching it to Harry and the others, but they never quite managed it."
—The newest trick was first mentioned in Book 69! 🤫
At the mere mention of Harry, Snape's expression darkened further; he cast a cold glance at Dylan, his lips twisting into a sneer as he scoffed, "You should keep such techniques to yourself instead of teaching those blockheads! You're practically tattooing it on their foreheads, yet they still can't grasp it!"
Dylan offered an awkward smile, unable to mount a proper response. After Snape cut him off, Dumbledore didn't push further and instead asked, "How are you feeling now?"
"I'm feeling fine, thank you for your concern," Dylan replied, his energy nearly restored.
Only then did Snape look at him again, "Your mastery of Sectumsempra seems to have advanced even further."
During the duel, both had tried to use Legilimency on each other while maintaining their Occlumency. But with Dylan unleashing a hundred spells at once, his mental energy was nearly drained. Once the duel ended, Snape didn't take advantage of Dylan's vulnerability to probe his mind.
Dumbledore paused for a moment, then with a slight smirk said, "Your mastery and study of spells has truly impressed me—it seems you possess an astonishing insight and innovation in magic."
McGonagall nodded, "Dylan always has such innovative ideas—some might be dangerous, but they do let him explore areas others ignore."
"…You flatter me," Dylan said, his lips twitching.
Professor Flitwick, recovering from his excitement, coughed, "I really had a blast! I believe that if you entered the dueling tournament right now, you'd surely win the championship! But you know they won't let underage wizards compete—if you broke records, it'd be a huge embarrassment for them."
While speaking, Flitwick shot a glance at Snape.
McGonagall remarked, "Your performance today was so stellar that I hardly feel the need for any extra tutoring sessions."
"—Though a bit of extra guidance is still necessary, Professor," Dylan interjected.
Dumbledore burst into hearty laughter, his eyes welling up slightly, "Oh, it warms my heart to see you all getting along so well, but it's getting late—both teachers and students need their rest."
The other professors nodded, said their goodbyes, and let Dylan depart first. Dylan wasn't sure whether Dumbledore wanted to speak further with them or have them stay to restore the hall's appearance, but anyway—it was definitely late. Before they knew it, nearly four hours had flown by. It was almost 2 a.m.—if it weren't for him shaking off his drowsiness and the adrenaline from the duel, Dylan would have been utterly knackered.
After Dylan left, Dumbledore looked at the three remaining professors. "What do you think of this little guy?"
Snape was the first to reply, "Didn't you already ask? Clearly, he couldn't possibly have mastered the Unforgivable Curses."
Dumbledore nodded, "But Quirrell mentioned that during an ambush in the Forbidden Forest, that person could cast spells in rapid succession."
"—Are you talking about chaining Unforgivable Curses? Some say fifty spells, but even chaining ten is far more difficult than his recent Sectumsempra. You must realize how tough it is to learn the Unforgivable Curses."
Snape glared at Dumbledore, "I truly wonder if your head got jammed in Hogwarts' staircases."
Dumbledore didn't seem angry at all; instead, he chuckled, "We're just discussing—and besides, this kid is truly clever, isn't he?"
"So, where did he learn the Unforgivable Curses?" Snape asked bluntly.
That stumped Dumbledore, and he fell silent in contemplation. "Yes, there's almost no way for him to learn them from anywhere," Dumbledore finally murmured.
Snape snorted coldly, "For your one little doubt, you've had me and my student accompany you all this way—weren't you the one who said you wouldn't appear?"
Dumbledore blinked. McGonagall interjected at the right moment, "The Ministry has informed us that a new dark wizard has appeared—Albus, you must have more information on this than we do, right?"
Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, that dark wizard who recklessly employs the Unforgivable Curses—who claims his name is Kalsas and goes by 'the Fool'—has emerged." He paused, his aged brows furrowing, "Strangely enough, this Fool, despite killing a dark wizard in broad daylight—causing the Aurors chasing him to turn on each other—none of those Aurors ended up dying; they were only injured."
"—And furthermore, during the summer, the Ministry received several reports of someone rampaging against nefarious dark wizards, using the Unforgivable Curses with ruthless efficiency."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow, "So you mean the one raiding the dark wizards is this Kalsas?"
"I just believe so."
Flitwick mused, "Could it be that Kalsas was the one who struck Quirrell and… that mysterious individual?"
Dumbledore fell silent, "You must understand that Hogwarts has its own barrier—it doesn't merely restrict Apparition." For a moment, all three professors fell silent. Indeed, Hogwarts' barrier does far more than just block wizards from Apparating inside. If someone isn't allowed to infiltrate Hogwarts through dark magic, the barrier certainly wouldn't stand idly by. Even Voldemort had to possess Quirrell just to lurk within Hogwarts for so long. In fact, last year, thanks to the barrier, most professors never suspected that a Dark Lord could have infiltrated the school.
Snape frowned, "That Kalsas guy, having attacked Quirrell, is clearly not on the same team as him."
Dumbledore nodded, "Moreover, the dark wizards who perished in the secret corridors have been identified by the Ministry; they're all ruthless criminals."
Flitwick mumbled, "Those nefarious folks are always into that whole 'fight among thieves' game."
Dumbledore sighed, "This man's sudden emergence has already stirred up panic in the English wizarding community."
Snape sneered, "And so what? The Ministry isn't just idly sitting around; this is none of our concern."
McGonagall agreed, "Yes, and besides, there's no way this has any connection with a child."
Snape glared, "Some people just think too much, trying to test everything!"
Dumbledore touched his little pointed hat and said, "Severus, hearing you say that truly saddens me."
Snape turned on his heel and left, his black robes swirling dramatically. "Alright, I don't have time for this emotional chit-chat—I need to get some sleep," he declared.
With Snape gone, only Dumbledore and the other three remained on the platform. "I'm too old to keep up any longer; you two, please see to tidying up this place," Dumbledore said with a wink.
"Alright, Headmaster," they replied.
*(Chapter End)*