Hogwarts : Max Level Unforgivable Curse

"Dylan, aren't you even a little surprised? That was a three-headed dog!" Ron pouted, glaring at Dylan.

Dylan, who was about to take a sip of milk, paused for a moment, his eyelashes fluttering twice. "Huh? Of course, I'm surprised! I'm totally shocked!"

Gulp, gulp~

He tilted his head back and gulped down the milk in large mouthfuls.

When he finally set the glass down, a faint milk mustache lingered on his lips.

Dylan's tongue flicked out, lightly licking the milk away, before he picked up his fork to grab a fried egg.

Watching his calm and composed demeanor, Ron couldn't help but slam his hands on the table and sit up straight.

"Oh my god, Dylan!"

His sudden outburst drew the attention of several classmates nearby.

Ron froze for a moment, then hunched back down, leaning as close to Dylan as possible.

"A three-headed dog! I mean, that's a three-headed dog! Aren't you curious about how powerful it is?"

Dylan glanced at the silly boy, smacking his lips a couple of times.

"The headmaster already said those areas are strictly off-limits. You could really die there. So, it's not impossible that something like a Dementor is locked inside… You do know what a Dementor is, right?"

"Even if there's no Dementor, you mentioned the three-headed dog. There could be other creatures too, like a basilisk or a troll."

"I'm genuinely surprised you all came back in one piece. Really."

Dylan added the last sentence to make sure Ron believed him.

Ron's expression froze, as if someone had hit the pause button. After a moment, his eyes blinked rapidly.

He pursed his lips, scratching the back of his head with one hand while his feet shuffled on the floor. His head drooped low. "But last night was really thrilling."

Dylan chuckled. "Do you know what's even more exciting?"

Ron, who was chewing on a crispy sausage, looked at him. "What?"

"A three-headed dog possesses immense strength. Even an iron gate would be smashed to pieces under its charge."

"It also has strong magical resistance, making it nearly immune to most spells. Its bite force is terrifying."

"It could even bite through the scales of a Hungarian Horntail. To put it simply…"

Dylan's gaze drifted to the sausage in Ron's mouth, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Does it crunch when you bite into it? That's exactly how it would feel when it eats you."

"When it has you in its mouth, you'd first hear a *pop*—that's the sound of your body being punctured like a balloon."

"Of course, while the middle head has you, the other two won't just sit idle."

"The left head would bite off your head, while the right one would stuff your legs into its mouth."

"In just a moment, your dismembered body would meet in its throat before being swallowed into its stomach."

Ron stared at Dylan's moving lips, his eyes bulging, his face losing all color. His lips trembled uncontrollably.

"Ugh…"

Ron gagged, quickly spitting out the half-eaten sausage. A few bits of sausage still clung to the corners of his mouth.

Harry, who had been watching, swallowed hard and discreetly pulled his hand back from reaching for a sausage.

"Actually, I think… Hermione isn't as bad as Ron makes her out to be. She could've just left us behind yesterday, but she helped us a lot. Getting through that locked door was mostly thanks to her. She's really smart."

Harry tried to steer the conversation away from the three-headed dog.

Ron quickly put down the sausage in his hand.

He glanced at Hermione beside him, his lips curling in disapproval.

He clearly disagreed with Harry's assessment, his face turning red as he argued, "Actually, if she hadn't opened that door, we wouldn't have run into that monster!"

"That three-headed dog is really dangerous! Dylan said it would chew us up like sausages and swallow us whole!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, feeling the urge to grab her thickest book and smack Ron over the head with it.

"Too bad there's no History of Magic class today. That book would've been perfect."

She snorted, glaring at Ron. "Actually, if it weren't for me, you'd have been caught by the professors and expelled by now!"

Ron scoffed, about to retort.

But seeing that Dylan had lost interest in the conversation, he quickly changed the subject.

"I remember the day Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley, he took out a small package. That was the same day Gringotts was broken into."

After last night's adventure, Harry couldn't help but suspect that the three-headed dog was guarding something in the restricted area—something Hagrid had taken out of Gringotts.

"But what could it be?"

Ron, intrigued by Harry's words, began muttering along with him.

But after thinking for a while, neither of them could figure out what it might be.

Finally, they both turned their gazes to Dylan.

Dylan, of course, knew what Hagrid had taken out—a Philosopher's Stone, something he didn't consider particularly useful.

The most remarkable thing about the Philosopher's Stone was its ability to create the Elixir of Life, granting immortality.

However, even with immortality, after a few hundred years, the body would become so frail that even a handshake could cause a bone to break.

To Dylan, such a painful existence wasn't worth pursuing.

He believed that potion-making could eventually produce a more stable and perfect Elixir of Life, without relying on the Philosopher's Stone.

The current wizards just hadn't discovered the method yet.

Dylan was confident that by brewing potions a thousand times, observing the shifting colors in the cauldron, tasting the bitterness of success or failure, and inhaling the pungent or strange aromas, he could unlock a new path to immortality.

With his growing talent in potion-making, thanks to the achievement system, he was sure he could pave the way.

But he was only ten years old. For now, absorbing more magical knowledge was his top priority.

As for immortality?

With Voldemort still out there, it wasn't something he needed to worry about yet.

Though Dumbledore might want to start thinking about it.

"Dylan, what do you think that thing could be?"

Seeing the two of them staring at him with puppy-dog eyes, Dylan resisted the urge to pat Ron and Harry on the head and set down his fork.

"If you think Hagrid placed that thing in the restricted area and guarded it with a three-headed dog, then it must be something incredibly valuable."

(End of Chapter)