*"Sectumsempra, huh? This spell, like 'Diffindo,' is something I can somewhat understand just by knowing the incantation. However, I have no clue about its counter-curse."*
Dylan flipped through the small notebook in his hands, glancing around cautiously. The notebook contained details about Sectumsempra, including its counter-curse—*Vulnera Sanentur.*
He had already learned quite a few healing spells, such as *Brackium Emendo* and *Episkey.*
As the direct counter-curse to Sectumsempra, *Vulnera Sanentur* could rapidly heal the deep cuts caused by the spell. Other healing spells, however, were either ineffective or struggled to mend the wounds inflicted by it.
Compared to other Hexes, Sectumsempra was particularly useful to Dylan. For one, it didn't require a twisted or overly malicious mindset to cast—just the simple intent to harm.
—Dylan didn't even need that much. He could cast Sectumsempra effortlessly.
Another advantage was that, unlike many other Hexes, Sectumsempra wasn't strictly monitored by the Ministry of Magic.
Despite its power, it didn't require registration with the Ministry—so long as it wasn't learned from a known Dark wizard, it wouldn't raise any major red flags.
*"Hmm, this spell is quite subtle in its execution. If I could aim for the throat directly… paired with the fact that I don't even need to generate any real killing intent—heck, I don't even need Occlumency—I could take down an opponent instantly."*
Of course, when it came to killing, the Killing Curse would always be the ultimate king.
That went without saying.
But Sectumsempra could be used out in the open.
After all, if he was surrounded by witnesses and needed to eliminate an enemy, he couldn't just yell *Avada Kedavra* in front of everyone. That would mean either taking out all the witnesses or risking someone escaping and reporting him.
Then, to cover his tracks, he'd have to hunt them down. And if anyone saw that… he'd have to kill them too.
And then another… and another…
—Eventually, the entire wizarding world would be wiped out by his hands.
Now *that* would be a disaster.
*"What are you thinking about?"*
A deep voice suddenly snapped Dylan out of his thoughts.
He turned leisurely, already prepared. Before entering Snape's office, he had activated Occlumency, so he wasn't worried about the professor prying into his mind.
After all, most of his thoughts were fleeting. He didn't dwell on them long enough for anyone—let alone Snape—to catch on.
Smiling at the professor, Dylan said casually, *"I was just thinking that this spell isn't too difficult to learn, yet it's incredibly powerful. I wonder who invented it—it's truly genius!"*
Snape narrowed his eyes, scanning Dylan up and down before letting out a quiet *hmph.* *"Is that really what you think?"*
*"Huh? Of course, Professor! The notes you gave me describe the spell in great detail. It even states that only the counter-curse can properly heal the wounds it causes. Just that fact alone proves how brilliant its creator was!"*
Snape's expression shifted slightly. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and the corners of his lips twitched—almost like he was amused.
*"Get out."* Snape waved his hand dismissively. *"You have one week. I'll be testing your progress next time."*
Dylan: …
He had just showered Snape with compliments, and the professor didn't even look mad. So why was he still kicking him out?
*Tch! What a tsundere bat!*
*"What are you thinking now?"*
*"N-Nothing! Well then, I'll be leaving now, Professor. See you next week."*
Dylan quickly suppressed his thoughts, grabbed his notebook and belongings, and turned to leave Snape's office.
After Dylan left, Snape opened a Potions book and flipped through it absentmindedly, not turning the page for a long time.
*"Genius, huh?"*
*"That kid only looked through the notes I gave him for a short while, yet he already understands the essence of Sectumsempra. He's probably mastered it… and even grasped it on a deep level."*
*"What a waste. A student like that, and he's in Gryffindor."*
At that thought, he suddenly paused.
*"Then again… he had the nerve to use a spell against me with my permission. He even managed to peek into my memories. And just now, right to my face, he dared to give me that ridiculous nickname!*
*"He's certainly got guts."*
Perhaps the Sorting Hat had a point in placing him in Gryffindor.
—
Dylan, unaware that his fleeting emotions had allowed Snape to read him so easily, strolled down the corridors of Hogwarts. He pulled out the small notebook once more.
Sectumsempra had been created by Snape himself—when he was still a student, no less.
It was deadly, easy to learn, easy to use, and could only be countered with a specific healing spell.
With all those advantages, it was undeniable that Snape had a remarkable talent.
Comparing that to himself… Dylan felt his so-called "great talent for the Dark Arts" was nothing but an illusion. Even though he had mastered the three Unforgivable Curses in his first year, it didn't feel all that impressive.
*"Hmm, I've already reached the level where I can refine my spellcasting technique."* Dylan chuckled, closing the notebook.
Since he had already known the incantation for Sectumsempra, he had managed to grasp it on a basic level. Now, with Snape's personal notes detailing every nuance of the spell, his proficiency had shot up to level seven—nearly eight.
Noticing that Snape didn't seem truly angry at him, Dylan had recently started to relax more.
Meanwhile, the exam period was drawing near.
The cold air of winter gradually gave way to the sweltering heat of summer. Sitting in classrooms became stifling.
Especially on exam day.
The Great Hall was so hot that everyone was sweating profusely.
Dylan and Harry had to take their exams alongside the other three houses' first-years.
—*Well, that certainly saved time and effort.*
The written portion was easy for Dylan.
It was the same for Hermione.
Harry and Ron, on the other hand, were scratching their heads in frustration. Fortunately, thanks to Hermione's intense tutoring sessions, they managed to scrape through the written exam without disaster.
Next came the practical exams for each subject.
For Herbology, Professor Sprout led them to the greenhouse, where they had to repot Mandrakes.
This test required students to use ear protection correctly and avoid damaging the plant's roots.
—Mandrakes had strong magical properties and could scream loudly enough to make a person dizzy if mishandled.
Surprisingly, Neville seemed to have a natural talent for it. His speed and precision even outmatched Dylan's.
Harry and Ron performed decently, as this wasn't a particularly difficult subject.
The Astronomy class practical took place in the Astronomy Tower, where students had to use telescopes to identify specific constellations, planets, and other celestial bodies.
Professor Sinistra's requirements weren't too high—students just needed to distinguish Orion's Belt and the Big Dipper to pass the assessment.
Almost no one failed this subject.
For the Charms practical, students were required to make a pineapple tap dance across a desk—something Dylan himself wasn't even good at.
However, he was fairly proficient with the Levitation Charm. Thanks to his precise control over spells and his meticulous handling of magical energy, he managed to achieve a perfect score.
—Dylan turned the desk into a miniature dance floor. While his tap-dancing wasn't exactly great, the overall effect was quite entertaining to watch.
As for Seamus… well, somehow, his attempt caught fire.
Setting something on fire while using the Levitation Charm? That was a new one.
The Transfiguration exam was relatively simple—students had to transform a rat into a snuffbox, a test of their understanding of the Transformation Spell.
Not only did they need to grasp how to convert the rat's physical characteristics into those of a snuffbox, but they were also assessed on their overall comprehension of magic.
For a bunch of first-years, this was no easy task.
But Dylan simply waved his wand, and the transformation was complete.
The rat's body gradually shrank, its rough gray fur faded away, and in its place appeared a snuffbox made of iridescent glass with a rainbow sheen.
The snuffbox had an elegant oval shape, with smooth, flowing lines. Intricate, ornate patterns—gold-etched constellations—adorned its surface.
At the junction of the lid and the box, tiny diamonds were embedded as decoration. Inside, the snuffbox was lined with sleek, ebony wood, its dark luster providing a striking contrast to the exterior's brilliance.
If you took a closer sniff, a faint, ancient forest-like fragrance wafted from within, lingering in the air.
Ron and Harry stared in stunned silence.
Neville, on the other hand, looked at Dylan with pure admiration—no doubt about it, that was Dylan for you!
Hermione furrowed her brow, still focused on transforming her own rat.
Before long, she completed her transfiguration, but compared to Dylan's snuffbox, it was like night and day.
Professor McGonagall supervised the exam with a strict eye. Ron struggled for ages without success, feeling increasingly flustered.
He wanted to ask Dylan for help, but every time he looked up, Professor McGonagall was right there, her sharp eyes fixed on him. Terrified, Ron immediately looked back down and frantically waved his wand.
The more anxious he got, the harder it became to concentrate and visualize the shape of the snuffbox.
Meanwhile, the rat's incessant squeaking only added to his stress, making his head spin.
Dylan, seeing his predicament, took action just as Professor McGonagall was inspecting his completed snuffbox, clearly admiring its craftsmanship.
As he walked past Ron, Dylan lowered his voice and said, "Calm down. Just do your best—it doesn't have to be perfect."
His words carried a subtle magical effect, gently soothing Ron's nerves. His mind cleared, and his panic subsided.
Ron blinked in surprise, looking at Dylan with bewilderment.
Dylan simply smiled and gave him a slight wink.
Instantly, Ron felt grateful.
Now calm, he recalled his practice sessions with Harry and Hermione. Refocusing, he cast the spell on the rat once more.
In the end, he managed to complete the transformation.
—Although his snuffbox turned out rather ugly.
The surface, which should have been smooth, was instead covered in bizarre wrinkles—just like the rat's scruffy skin.
Even the lid retained traces of the rat's long whiskers.
Still, at least he had passed.
Next came the Potions exam: brewing a cauldron of Forgetfulness Potion.
Professor Snape's supervision was—unsurprisingly—especially strict when it came to Gryffindors.
Throughout the entire ingredient-preparation phase, Snape loomed over the Gryffindor students, circling like a hawk.
—Then again, potion-making assessments did include identifying and handling ingredients, so no one dared to complain.
As long as students could successfully brew the Forgetfulness Potion, Snape wouldn't fail them outright, even if he refused to award full marks.
Dylan, as usual, finished his exam with ease and strolled out of the classroom.
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron remained behind, sweating nervously over their bubbling cauldrons.
With nearly every subject tested, only one final exam remained: History of Magic.
Most students felt little pressure for this one.
Even Ron breezed through it.
Afterward, Dylan pulled out a large mug and gave his wand a flick.
A stream of ice-cold, fizzy cola flowed from the tip of his wand into the mug.
This was a new spell he had developed after his previous milk tea experiment.
—A spell Professor McGonagall had taken quite a liking to.
Every time Dylan sought extra tutoring from her, she would always request a full cup first.
—She would even conjure extra ice cubes, take a big swig, and then…
Let out a satisfied "Ahhh!"
"Dylan, pour me one too!" Ron, eyeing Dylan's giant mug, eagerly moved closer.
Dylan, of course, didn't refuse. He conjured cups for Harry and Ron, then raised his wand.
*Fizz, fizz, fizz—*
A stream of translucent black liquid trickled from the wand's tip, filling each cup to the brim.
Hermione and Neville took theirs and immediately took big sips.
Ron tilted his head back, gulping down the drink.
The moment the fizzy bubbles hit his tongue, his whole body shuddered.
"Ahhh!"
The carbonation exploded in his mouth, leaving Ron with a look of pure satisfaction.
"Merlin's beard, Dylan, what *is* this stuff? It tastes amazing every time! I could never get tired of it!"
Dylan chuckled. "It's called *Happy Water.* Of course, you wouldn't get tired of it."
"Huh? Dylan, didn't you call it *cola* last time?" Harry asked after taking another gulp, blinking in confusion.
"Different names, same thing."
Hermione, less animated than the others, took a few small sips before glancing at Harry. "Dylan invented it. He can call it whatever he wants."
"Fair enough." Harry scratched his head, then took another swig. "I still can't believe I actually finished all my exams successfully!"
Ron downed several more gulps, then pursed his lips, squinting as he waited for the fizzy sensation in his teeth to fade. Finally, he let out a long sigh.
"Yeah! I was *sure* I was gonna fail at least one—especially Transfiguration! That was *so* hard!"
"Good thing Dylan helped me out. Otherwise, I *never* would've gotten that wretched rat transformed, even if the exam had gone on all day!"
Ron snorted lightly and said, "Those other rats never cooperate with me at all. My Scabbers is still the cutest."
"By the way, I haven't seen Scabbers around lately. Where is he?" Harry glanced at him.
Ron paused for a moment and couldn't help but pout. "I don't know what's wrong with him lately. He's been feeling unwell and keeps whimpering in pain. He can't even make a sound sometimes, so I put him in the little box bedroom I prepared for him."
"Huh? He still hasn't gotten better after all this time?" Harry was stunned.
He had been so busy recently that he hadn't even noticed Ron's rat.
Now that he finally had some free time, he could ask about it.
(End of Chapter)