Hogwarts : Max Level Unforgivable Curse

Madam Hooch immediately strode over to Neville, looking down at the chubby boy who sat on the grass, his expression still dazed and blank. 

Neville didn't say a word, but tears began to stream down his face. 

It seemed he was genuinely frightened. 

Dylan walked over, not bothering to check if Neville was injured. 

"Episkey!" 

The wooden texture of his wand glimmered faintly in the dim light. 

With a gentle flick, a soft golden glow shot from the tip of his wand. 

Neville finally snapped out of his daze and looked down at his knees. 

"It doesn't hurt anymore..." 

Dylan raised an eyebrow. His Levitation Charm was fairly advanced, but the little guy's weight was a bit excessive. 

In his haste, Dylan hadn't been able to fully counteract the impact of Neville's fall. 

There were probably some minor scrapes, but nothing serious. 

With the additional protective spells Dylan had cast, it seemed Neville hadn't suffered any major internal injuries. 

At most, he was just a bit shaken up. 

A few doses of bitter potions would likely do the trick. 

Madam Hooch still held her wand in hand, but she was staring at Dylan, who was circling Neville three times, checking if the young wizard had sustained any other injuries. 

"Madam Hooch, my Episkey might not have completely healed Neville's wounds, and if he has any internal injuries, we can't easily detect them," Dylan said, looking up at her. "So, it's best if you take him to the infirmary." 

Madam Hooch snapped out of her thoughts, glanced at Dylan, and nodded gently. "You did well." 

It hadn't occurred to her that, as a flying instructor, she would be outperformed by a first-year student in handling an accident. 

This was partly because she had seen so many flying accidents over the years. She believed young wizards needed to endure some hardships to truly master flying. 

However, she realized that her standards couldn't be applied equally to first-year students. 

After helping Neville to his feet, Madam Hooch paused, deep in thought, and glanced back at Dylan once more. 

"You reacted quickly and handled the situation very well. For that, Gryffindor earns five points!" 

"Wow!" 

A group of Gryffindor students erupted into cheers. 

Meanwhile, the Slytherins frowned, their faces filled with resentment. 

"Now, everyone, return your brooms to their proper places. No one is to attempt flying until I return from taking Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing!" Madam Hooch sternly warned the students before leaving. "If anyone dares to fly without permission, they can expect to be expelled!" 

Dylan didn't accompany Madam Hooch to take Neville to the infirmary. 

After Madam Hooch left, the students stood around, unsure of what to do. 

Suddenly, Malfoy stepped forward, broom in hand. 

"Hey, did you see that fat boy's face? Merlin's beard, it was hilarious! How can someone not even hold onto a broom properly?" 

Malfoy's voice was dripping with arrogance. 

Harry and Ron immediately shot him disapproving looks. 

Malfoy, however, met their gazes with a挑衅 smirk, his mouth still running. 

Dylan narrowed his eyes. 

He remembered that during the flying lesson, Malfoy had caused trouble by taking Neville's Remembrall, leading to a confrontation with Harry. 

This time, Dylan had preemptively stashed Neville's Remembrall in his bag, so it hadn't even been brought to the lesson. Yet, Malfoy still found a way to stir up trouble. 

He walked straight up to Malfoy. 

Malfoy froze. 

The spells Dylan had effortlessly cast earlier were something even he, a Slytherin, couldn't manage. 

Coupled with Dylan's outstanding performance in every class over the past two weeks, Malfoy couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated standing in front of his rival. 

"What do you want?" Malfoy glared at Dylan, trying to sound tough. "Our whole house is here!" 

He glanced around at the Slytherin students, but none of them dared to meet Dylan's gaze, all lowering their heads instead. 

"You all..." Malfoy choked on his words. 

Dylan's gaze remained calm. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm not sure how someone as dim-witted as you has managed to survive in this harsh world." 

"What?!" 

Malfoy's eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. 

"Do you know who my mother is? How dare you speak to me like that! Your parents are just Muggles, aren't they?" 

This time, Dylan's expression shifted slightly. 

It was the look one might give to an idiot. 

"What I mean is, failure is the mother of success. You just seem a bit too attached to your own mother." 

Dylan had no interest in arguing with a child. It was far too tedious. 

Besides, he didn't care whether Malfoy's bullying of Harry was some twisted way of expressing his affection due to his own insecurities. 

He had no desire to be anyone's life coach, nor was it his place to be. 

So, before Malfoy could open his mouth again, Dylan raised his wand. 

"Silencio!" 

In an instant, an invisible magical force clamped down on Malfoy's throat like a tightening noose. 

Malfoy, who had been about to unleash a venomous insult he'd been concocting in his mind, was abruptly silenced. 

All that remained were his wide, bulging eyes, filled with a mix of rage and shock. 

He clutched at his tightly sealed lips, his thin mouth trembling with effort, his cheeks puffing out. 

He looked like an angry pufferfish that had suddenly been muted. 

He pulled out his wand, trying to counter Dylan's spell. 

But whether it was the Counter-Charm or the Vocal Restoring Spell, he hadn't mastered either, and couldn't cast them properly. 

Compared to Dylan's smooth and effortless spellcasting, the difference was stark. 

The Gryffindor students burst into laughter. 

Ron and Harry rushed to Dylan's side, grinning from ear to ear. 

But Dylan stopped them from taunting Malfoy further. 

"As a pure-blood Slytherin, I hope you'll focus on improving your magical skills rather than becoming someone who, when falling into water, only has their mouth floating above the surface." 

Dylan gave his wand a gentle flick, lifting the spell. 

Malfoy continued to glare at Dylan but didn't dare say another word. 

He hadn't expected this Gryffindor to not only be clever and skilled in magic but also to have a sharper tongue than any Slytherin! 

"I hope you'll all remain quiet and not disturb me." 

Shaking his head, Dylan returned his broom to its proper place. 

Then, he sat down on the grass, pulled out his *Guide to Safe Potion-Making*, and began to read it carefully. 

(End of Chapter)