Chapter 81: Voldemort's Master Class
Ethan had wanted to steer the conversation toward Horcruxes, but instead he'd learned something unexpected about the Philosopher's Stone's life-extending properties.
Thinking about Nicolas Flamel's appearance in the films, Ethan realized he looked like an ordinary old man. Did that mean the Stone couldn't preserve youth, only sustain life?
He wanted to know more, but Dumbledore stopped answering.
"Finish eating and head back. You have afternoon classes, right? Tomorrow night, just go to Tom's place. Don't worry, he won't hurt you."
Seeing that Ethan was nearly finished eating, the old man was eager to shoo him away.
After eating, Ethan had mostly calmed down, no longer as fearful as he had been when he first arrived.
"Headmaster, please don't be so quick to kick me out. You just said if I learned Transfiguration well, I could better resist the Killing Curse. You were the Transfiguration professor before, right? Can you teach me?"
"I'm very busy, but I have some notes from my youth you can look at." Dumbledore had prepared for this, pulling out a thick notebook.
Ethan gave him a suspicious look but took the notes.
Flipping through them revealed densely packed text and small diagrams.
He put the notes in his bag, planning to study them himself first and ask for help if he got stuck.
"I have one final question."
"One final question, you say? Go ahead." Dumbledore sounded impatient.
Ethan asked cautiously, "So, um, could you get me a phoenix? I saw Fawkes had just been reborn, right? I heard they can withstand the Killing Curse without dying."
He knew this request was somewhat unreasonable, but to ensure his safety, he asked unabashedly anyway.
"Can't be done. Go on, get out." A flash of surprise crossed Dumbledore's face, then disappeared, and he stood to usher him out.
"Honestly, I was just asking. Why so abrupt?" Ethan muttered as Dumbledore pushed him out of his office.
Bang! The door closed behind him.
After sending Ethan away, Dumbledore was no longer at ease.
Now, with a serious expression, he paced back and forth in the room, contemplating how to quickly eliminate Quirrell, or rather, Voldemort.
Ethan returned to his dormitory, hung all three pendants around his neck, straightened his robes, grabbed his Transfiguration textbook and Dumbledore's notes, then went to the library.
Hermione was immediately drawn to Dumbledore's notes.
She scribbled on a scrap of parchment, "Are these Transfiguration notes? Who gave them to you? They look incredibly advanced."
Ethan replied, "They're Dumbledore's."
Though Hermione was curious to see what Dumbledore had written and what she might learn, she didn't press the issue or ask Ethan to copy the notes for her.
Ethan was pleased by her reaction. She hadn't made things difficult.
With his life potentially at stake, Ethan couldn't afford to slack off. He seized every spare moment to study the notes.
In Transfiguration class, they were learning to transform matches into needles and living creatures like rats into snuffboxes.
This proved extremely difficult for many students.
Living creatures like rats didn't have much magical resistance, but they still had some, which made it harder than transforming inanimate objects.
Such transformations also required more imagination, leaving many students struggling.
Ethan hadn't forgotten his ambition to replicate the magical technique of turning beans into soldiers, even if he couldn't manage it yet. But after reading through Dumbledore's notes, he felt confident he could achieve it once he fully grasped them.
After dinner the next day, Ethan put on all three pendants and the brooch, shouldered his backpack, grabbed his wand, and headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
At the bottom of the stairs, he couldn't help feeling nervous.
After taking several deep breaths to psych himself up, he climbed the stairs and knocked on Quirrell's office door.
Ethan pushed the door open.
Quirrell sat differently than before, fingering the pendant on his chest and the chain around his neck, with a contemptuous smile on his face.
"Quite cautious, acquiring so many life-saving items."
"Rest assured, I said I wouldn't kill you, and I keep my word."
Ethan smiled awkwardly, but Voldemort's guarantee, delivered so arrogantly, had helped somewhat. He was slightly more at ease than when he'd first entered.
Voldemort flicked his wand, and the door behind Ethan slammed shut with a bang, making him jump.
It was hard to say whether he had jumped because of the wand gesture or the sound.
Privately, Ethan attributed it to the sudden noise.
Voldemort wore a malicious smile.
He lazily pointed at the chair across from him. "Sit. I think today we'll start with the first Dark Magic spell you learned: Incendio."
"Tell me, why is Dark Magic called Dark Magic?" Voldemort suddenly asked.
Ethan set down his backpack and sat down properly opposite him.
Hearing this, he was taken aback. He hadn't expected Voldemort to ask something with such a clear textbook definition.
"It only achieves maximum power when cast with malicious intent. That's why this type of magic is called Dark Magic. Unlike light magic, Dark Magic subtly changes a wizard, making them cruel and bloodthirsty, though this supposedly only happens with the most advanced spells."
He based his answer on textbooks and personal experience. That was why he'd dared to learn less vicious Dark Magic spells like Incendio and Bone Shield.
Voldemort shook his head.
"The definition of Dark Magic is correct, but the latter part is wrong."
"Textbooks state that Dark Magic is actually a collective term for three types of magic: jinxes, hexes, and curses."
"What alters the mind isn't the vaguely termed 'advanced Dark Magic' mentioned there, but specifically the curses within it."
"The other two don't affect the mind as strongly."
"And that isn't always true. Top dark wizards can maintain their sanity even after learning many curses."
Ethan felt Voldemort was implying that he himself was such a top dark wizard.