Delphini was about to say something more, eager to show her loyalty to her master. But then, all of a sudden, the chilling aura that had surrounded her vanished in an instant.
She froze, startled.
Slowly, she lifted her head, only to find that the figure who had been standing before her was gone.
Sunlight spilled through a gap in the clouds, casting a soft glow on the Dark Mark etched into her skin.
Delphini felt a pang of disappointment. Couldn't her master at least have said goodbye before leaving?
For some reason, whenever she was in her master's presence, an overwhelming sense of submission washed over her, beyond her control. It was as if she was meant to kneel before them, as if they radiated a coldness even more piercing than a Dementor's chill.
But now, that icy sensation was fading, drawn away bit by bit.
Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself, sinking to the floor and burying her face in her knees.
This house was undeniably old and worn. With the weather growing colder, the room felt not only dim but damp. Droplets of dew clung to the corners of the wooden ceiling.
Clutching the small orb in her hand, faint glimmers of light rippled from her palm, pushing back the gloom around her.
Delphini wasn't afraid—not even a little. Instead, a single thought surfaced in her mind: "Those who love you won't leave you waiting in the dark for long."
She couldn't recall where she'd heard those words. And, of course, she knew her master didn't love her.
But what did that matter?
She wouldn't let her master linger in the darkness for long.
Her master was meant to walk in the light—a herald of death itself.
"Let me do everything I can for my master's grand vision," Delphini whispered, her voice echoing faintly in the empty room.
She shifted forward on the floor, her fingertips brushing the stone tile where her master had stood moments before. The coldness of the stone seeped into her skin, sinking into her very blood.
Her eyes narrowed, a faint, almost sickly expression crossing her face.
…
After leaving Lockhart's house, Dylan shed his disguise as Carcerus.
He frowned slightly, letting out a sigh.
"I was hoping to turn Lockhart's place into another safe house today," he muttered.
Instead of securing a safe house, he'd ended up with a blood diamond of unknown purpose.
"Speaking of which, I haven't seen many unicorns lately. And it seems like the unicorn herd ran into some trouble a while back."
Though this blood diamond wasn't a freshly crafted artifact, the problem was that he only had one. The silver setting it came from had slots for two more, suggesting they might share the same power to influence unicorns. If those other two fell into the hands of dark wizards, they might start getting ideas about his unicorn herd.
Dylan's eyes narrowed.
He'd already claimed those unicorns as his own, even if he hadn't had time to fully tame them yet—especially since he was still working on subduing the Hippogriffs.
But that didn't mean he'd let anyone else lay a finger on his unicorns.
"I wonder if unicorns could fit into my pet world's food chain," Dylan mused, though he doubted it. Unicorns were far too powerful compared to ordinary creatures. They weren't fighters by nature, either, so they wouldn't easily slot into a food chain as predator or prey.
Even if his pet world couldn't directly incorporate unicorns, capturing the Forbidden Forest's herd would still give him plenty of experimental material.
He didn't linger in Hogsmeade. Most of what he needed to do there was done.
And the one thing he did need to do no longer seemed necessary.
Since Delphini had found Lockhart's house, it could serve as her base for now. He hadn't told her outright, but he'd instructed her to store all her accumulated wealth with Mr. Borgin. Dylan was certain the slightly unhinged girl would take up residence in that house regardless.
He planned to head back and work on a new charm to properly conceal the house as Delphini's property, just to avoid any trouble from goblins or others sniffing around.
Back at Hogwarts, Dylan headed straight for the dormitory.
After downing some Butterbeer and nibbling on snacks in Hogsmeade, he wasn't hungry enough for lunch. Butterbeer, though a warm drink, was surprisingly filling for a young wizard not yet of age—especially since he'd had more than one.
Pushing open the dormitory door, Dylan expected it to be empty. To his surprise, Harry was there, sitting alone.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. "No training today?"
Harry, hearing the door, had thought it might be Ron or the others. But when he turned and saw only Dylan, he paused at the question, managing a small smile.
"Nah, Wood's off in Hogsmeade. Said he's buying some stuff and visiting a 'special place' he's been looking forward to," Harry explained.
Dylan blinked. A special place? One Wood had been looking forward to?
It didn't take long to guess—The Three Broomsticks.
Even a third-year like Dylan could get non-alcoholic drinks there. Who knew what kind of proper Butterbeer the older students might be enjoying?
No wonder Wood hadn't dragged Harry to practice today. A rare chance to kick back with a drink wasn't something he'd pass up.
Dylan glanced at the time. It wasn't late—barely even afternoon. Ron, Hermione, and probably Neville wouldn't be back anytime soon. They'd likely stay out until the last possible moment.
Harry, free from training and without Ron or Hermione, clearly wasn't about to sit down and do homework alone. So here he was, stuck in the dormitory with nothing to do.
Dylan casually pulled a bag of snacks from his enchanted storage space and tossed it with a flick of his wand. The bag floated gently through the air, landing in front of Harry.
"Try these. Got some new treats from Hogsmeade in there. Think you'll like them," Dylan said.
Harry nodded, a quiet, "Thanks, Dylan," escaping his lips.
He set the bag down, peering inside before glancing back at Dylan. "You're back early. And alone?"
Dylan shrugged. "You know me—Hogsmeade's fun, but nothing there grabs me like a good book."
Harry, clutching the snack bag, blinked in surprise. "It's not fun?"
"It's alright," Dylan said honestly. "At least Hogsmeade's got some food you can't find at school. Like Honeydukes' sweets—Hogwarts gets their stock from there, you know. Otherwise, the Ministry might get a complaint about counterfeit candy."
The dormitory felt a bit empty with just the two of them. Sunlight streamed through the tower windows, casting slanted beams across the wooden desk.
Harry reached into the snack bag, pulling out a small pack of fruit-flavored hard candies. He tore it open, popping a pink one into his mouth. The sweet, cool taste of strawberry spread across his tongue, and a small smile tugged at his lips.
"Wish I'd known you weren't training today," Dylan said with a hint of regret. "I'd have brought back a few extra Butterbeers."
Harry, still savoring the candy, looked surprised. "They sell beer to kids in Hogsmeade?"
Dylan grinned. "Surprising, right? I was shocked too. But Madam Rosmerta says the stuff she serves students is non-alcoholic, specially mixed. More like a fancy drink than actual beer."
Harry's eyes lit up with curiosity and a touch of envy. "Really? I want to try it."
Dylan rubbed his chin. "Ron and Hermione are probably at the Three Broomsticks right now. When I left, the place was practically overrun with students. Want me to send a note to have them bring back a few pints?"
Harry hesitated. "Isn't that a bit of a hassle?"
Dylan waved it off. "Nah, it's just a quick note. They're the ones carrying the drinks."
Harry bit his lip, then nodded. "Alright."
Dylan opened the window, letting in the warm afternoon sunlight. He summoned Luna, his owl, and scribbled a quick note before handing it to her.
"Go on, girl," he said, feeding her a strip of meat.
With a flutter of snowy wings, Luna vanished into the sky.
"There," Dylan said. "Just hang out here, Harry. Though, knowing Ron and Hermione, they'll probably drag it out until the prefects herd them back."
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, sounds like them."
"I've got some stuff to do," Dylan said casually, pulling out his pet space suitcase and setting it by his bed.
"Cool," Harry replied, nodding without pressing Dylan to stay.
Maybe he was used to being alone sometimes—back at the Dursleys', that's how it always was.
Dylan slipped into his pet space, pulling out the unicorn blood diamond he'd gotten from Lockhart's place. Around Delphini, he couldn't study it properly, but here, in his own space, things were different.
"Where did Lockhart even get this blood diamond?" he wondered. "A trade? Or did he nick it off someone?"
Knowing Lockhart's knack for stealing stories, Dylan wouldn't be surprised if he'd tried to swipe someone's experiences for a book and ended up with their treasure instead.
"But why buy that rundown shack in Hogsmeade when he's got the galleons for a proper house?" Dylan mused.
If he hadn't glimpsed fragments of Lockhart's memories while controlling him, he might not have even noticed the place. Maybe Lockhart bought it for some shady dealings—like working with dark wizards to gain perks he couldn't get at Hogwarts, all to boost his status.
"Too bad I used so many charms on him," Dylan sighed. "Wiped out whatever scraps of memory he had left."
Without a way to recover those memories, Dylan could only guess. Unless he could develop a spell or technique to restore lost memories.
Memory wasn't truly gone, he knew. The Harry Potter world had proven souls weren't just abstract nonsense—Dementors could devour them, after all.
Memories might vanish from the surface, but they lingered in the soul, like files deleted from a desktop but still stored in the core. Dylan's studies in Secrets of the Soul had taught him that souls had three layers: the surface (consciousness and emotions), the middle (personality and instincts), and the deepest layer, where all memories resided.
So, recovering memories wasn't impossible—just incredibly difficult. It meant unraveling the mysteries of the soul itself.
Luckily, Dylan had mastered several soul-related spells. With effort, he might just pull it off.
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