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This giant monster...
Professor Snape's deep voice echoed in the room.
He glanced at Dylan, who was blinking expectantly at him.
"I will provide you with the materials when the time comes," Snape said.
Dylan immediately smiled. "Okay, Professor!"
He didn't even have to collect them himself—Snape had already arranged how to extract useful parts from the troll's body.
Snape looked at the troll's corpse. "A powerful fire spell," he remarked.
Dylan smiled modestly.
"But you only burned its beard and snot. Next time, try not to use that spell," Snape added.
Dylan's smile froze.
What did Snape mean by that? Was he just telling him not to damage potion ingredients, or had he noticed something unusual?
Dylan glanced at the troll's corpse.
Logically, with his buff, no one should detect any trace of black magic. Snape shouldn't have discovered anything.
He had accounted for the burning effects of both the Blazing Fire Curse and the Fiery Fire Curse. Having mastered the latter at its highest level, he could precisely control the burn patterns left on the troll's body.
It shouldn't be possible for someone with just a bit of black magic knowledge to instantly tell that it was the Fierce Fire Curse instead of the Fiery Fire Curse.
Calm down, Dylan. Don't panic.
Even if someone guessed he knew the Fiery Curse, could they possibly know he could use Avatar magic as well?
If anyone questions me, I'll just...
Dylan was lost in thought when he suddenly felt Snape's gaze.
He immediately cut off his racing thoughts.
He almost forgot—Snape was a master of Legilimency. Even without casting a spell, he could sense emotions and stray thoughts.
"Alright, return to your dormitories and rest," Professor McGonagall said suddenly.
Snape withdrew his gaze from Dylan, then shot Harry a glare before sweeping his black robe behind him and striding out of the room.
Harry touched his nose, confused.
"Why does he always target me?"
Dylan noticed this too.
Seems like someone might be in trouble soon.
"But that has nothing to do with me," he thought, shrugging off the concern.
"Then I'll take my leave, Professor McGonagall," Dylan said politely, offering a smile before exiting with Harry and the others.
Quirrell stood beside McGonagall, silently watching Dylan's departing back, his eyes flickering with thought.
Dylan, too, was skilled in soul magic.
Even without turning around, he could feel a pair of eyes scrutinizing him with intense curiosity.
Voldemort's on top—literally on his face.
As Harry and Ron bombarded him with excited questions, Dylan mulled over the situation.
Quirrell is possessed by Voldemort. But can they both control the body at the same time? Or is Voldemort dormant while Quirrell remains conscious?
It seemed like Quirrell had taken notice of him.
Well, if he tries anything against me, I'll make sure Voldemort experiences the full pain of the Cruciatus Curse.
Back in the dormitory, Dylan picked up a book and started reading as if nothing had happened.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione continued their conversation, mostly apologies and explanations.
Seamus and Neville looked relieved when they returned but hesitated when they saw Dylan quietly reading.
Exchanging glances, they decided to ask Harry and Ron instead.
As November approached, the weather turned colder.
Even the Black Lake was covered in thick ice, and a few students attempted to skate on it before being promptly chased off.
One morning, Dylan noticed Luna curled up lazily, avoiding interaction.
"Oh, what a pity," he mused aloud. "I bought some ferret meat, but since no owl wants it, I'll just feed it to Coal."
"Chirp?!"
Luna, previously nestled between her wings, suddenly perked up, ears erect, eyes wide, staring at Dylan.
"You little glutton," Dylan chuckled, tossing her a few strips of ferret meat before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast.
Afterward, he planned to attend McGonagall's Transfiguration class.
Surprisingly, the troll incident didn't stir much of a reaction at Hogwarts.
It was as if the matter had been deliberately suppressed.
However, a few days after Halloween, Dylan received a package of potion ingredients from Snape.
Not just troll parts—Snape had included various other rare items. Some of them were nearly impossible to purchase, even with money.
This made Dylan appreciate Snape even more.
Even the professor's greasy hair seemed oddly fresh.
If anyone dared to say Snape didn't wash his hair, Dylan would immediately jump in to defend him.
What nonsense! His hair is shiny—it's just a unique wizarding style!
After a day of classes, Dylan once again sat beside Professor McGonagall.
When she finished tutoring him, he remained seated.
"Professor, I sincerely appreciate your teaching. It has deepened my understanding of Transfiguration," he said earnestly.
McGonagall observed the clever young wizard before her, eyes filled with satisfaction.
"It is my duty to cultivate Hogwarts' talents. You don't need to thank me," she replied.
Dylan smiled and pulled out his wand.
He wasn't about to show off but rather demonstrate his latest magical innovation.
"Oh? You created a new spell?" McGonagall asked, intrigued.
"It's not creation, but innovation," Dylan corrected.
He set his water glass on the table.
"Would you like some tea? Or milk?"
McGonagall blinked. "Tea."
Dylan nodded, waving his wand.
"Lactea repleta!"
Pink starlight flickered.
A rich milky aroma mingled with a light tea fragrance as liquid flowed smoothly from the tip of his wand.
"Sizzle~"
The milk tea arced perfectly into the cups before them.
Soon, they were full.
"Please," Dylan said, grinning.
"Impressive magic," McGonagall remarked, glancing at the cup.
"But surely you don't expect me to drink from your personal water cup, do you?"
(End of Chapter)
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