Everyday Life of a Top Student at Hogwarts

Chapter 170 The Beginning of the Research

Chapter 170 The Beginning of the Research

As the hustle and bustle of the Quidditch match gradually subsided, Hogwarts Castle returned to its usual tranquility in the night, with only the faint lights shining from the tower windows indicating that people were still active inside.

Inside the Eagle's Nest, Karen didn't immediately plunge into alchemy experiments as usual. Instead, he sat at his desk, a thick notebook spread out in front of him. He was meticulously taking notes.

"—A log of the target's magical energy fluctuations since the start of the semester:"

September 1st, Sorting Ceremony Dinner: First close encounter. The magic field was extremely chaotic, its main body appearing sickly and withered, while the core area contained a purplish-black magic source filled with malice and decay. The two were not simply symbiotic or parasitic; the latter strongly suppressed the former, and the main magic field appeared to be in a state of 'being parasitized'. The purplish-black magic source carried strong characteristics of a soul imprint.

On September 15th, in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class: the balance between the two was somewhat stable, but the purplish-black magical source was radiating a restless aura.

On October 31st, at the Halloween dinner: The target's main magical field experienced a brief and violent fluctuation due to the Weasley twins' prank, but immediately returned to normal. The Forbidden Forest incident then erupted; the target attempted to leave but was restrained, and the purplish-black magical source's emotions shifted to rage and frustration.

On November 5th, during the Quidditch match (Gryffindor vs. Slytherin): the long-lost target reappeared in a corner of the stands. A purplish-black magical source attempted to release a concealed magical flow to interfere with HP's broom, intending to cause an accident. The magical flow was characterized by its dark red color, high disruptive power, and intent on creating chaos. This interference was instantly and precisely intercepted and annihilated by Professor S. After the interference failed, the purplish-black magical source erupted with intense frustration and rage, completely suppressing the target's main magical field, and fled in panic.

In summary, the coexistence of two souls is extremely unstable. The parasite holds absolute dominance, but its actions are severely limited by the weakened state of its host and close external surveillance. The parasite experiences intense emotional fluctuations, exhibiting extreme anxiety and instability, especially when its plans are thwarted. Its soul form displays a tearing sensation of 'unnatural parasitism,' differing from conventional soul damage. This 'torn parasitism' state may be the key reason why its power is far inferior to its peak, possessing extremely high research value.

Karen stopped writing here. His eyes looked particularly deep in the lamplight. He placed the quill beside the inkwell, his knuckles tapping lightly on the table. The Eagle's Nest was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind from the distant castle and the soft sound of Phoebus preening his feathers on his perch. His roommates were all at their desks, either reviewing their lessons or organizing their Quidditch notes.

It was time. Cullen took a deep breath. Voldemort's shadow had already loomed over Hogwarts. His plans had been disrupted time and again, and his actions were likely to become increasingly reckless. Although Snape's surveillance and Dumbledore's schemes temporarily controlled the situation, the risks were rising sharply, and events were already deviating from the original story. Moreover, he needed those around him to be more vigilant about their surroundings; it was time to tell them some facts.

"Guys," Karen's voice broke the silence, not loud, but clear enough to reach everyone's ears, "I need to take a moment of your time. There are some things I think I need to let you know."

Three pairs of eyes looked at him simultaneously. Wesley put down "Quidditch Origins," Fabian closed his herbalism notebook, and Ernesto also looked up from the star chart, their faces showing a hint of curiosity and inquiry.

Karen stood up and walked to the center of the room, making sure she could see everyone's expressions. "First, it's about Professor Victor." He paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, "His real name isn't Victor Eisenberg."

"What?" Wesley was the first to exclaim, his eyes wide. "What's that called? Is it some kind of wanted criminal?" he said half-jokingly, clearly not taking it too seriously.

Fabian adjusted his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses sharpening. Ernesto, on the other hand, raised his brow slightly, a knowing glint in his grey eyes.

"His name is Castor," Karen pronounced clearly, "Casto Grindelwald."

"Grindelwald?!" Fabian gasped, his voice trembling, as if the name carried a chilling weight.

He suddenly looked at Ernesto.

Ernesto's fingers tightened unconsciously on the star chart, crumpling a corner of the parchment. "Could he be Gellert Grindelwald's—?" His voice was low, filled with unbelievable certainty.

"Grand-nephew." Karen nodded, confirming Ernesto's guess. "Yes, the grand-nephew of the dark wizard who once shook all of Europe."

"Merlin's beard," Fabian murmured, leaning back involuntarily, as if the name itself carried a powerful impact. Although he had grown up in a village where wizards and Muggles lived together, he had heard some legends about Grindelwald's reign of terror from his mother, and the shadows cast by those stories were far beyond what Wesley, a Muggle, could comprehend.

"Wait, Grindelwald?" Wesley glanced at Fabian and Ernesto, whose expressions had changed drastically, then at Cullen, looking completely bewildered. "That old dark wizard? The one who was similar to Voldemort? The professor is his grand-nephew? What's the problem? I think Victor—well, Professor Castor is a pretty good guy, a good teacher, and he especially values ​​Cullen. Apart from being a bit eccentric, he's much better than the old Batman. And does being the Dark Lord's grand-nephew necessarily mean he's a bad guy? Surely not?" To him, Grindelwald was just a name from a history textbook, so he didn't react as strongly as Fabian and Ernesto.

“The issue is complex, Wesley,” Cullen explained calmly. “The Grindelwald name means a lot in the wizarding world, especially in families that lived through those dark years. Prejudice, fear, the burden of history. Professor Castor chose to use a pseudonym…”

It was precisely to escape the shadow cast by that surname and to teach and conduct research at Hogwarts in peace. Headmaster Dumbledore knew his true identity and trusted him. I only found out after becoming his apprentice.” He emphasized “Dumbledore’s trust” and the identity of “apprentice” in an attempt to soothe Fabian and Ernesto’s tension.

"But why did he take you on as an apprentice? And so—giving you his all?" Ernesto pressed, his grey eyes fixed on Cullen with a mixture of inquiry and barely perceptible worry. The name Grindelwald, even as just a connection, was enough to conjure up images of danger in his mind; his grandfather had survived the First Wizarding War.

"Because of my talent, and also because of his body," Karen's voice deepened. "He is afflicted with a very ancient and malevolent curse—the Curse of Helpo. This curse is eroding his life, and he hopes to pass on his knowledge and find someone who can surpass him. And I, just so happens, have been chosen by him." He omitted the specific details of the blood pact.

"Helpo's Curse?" Fabian repeated in a low voice. The name also carried an ancient and sinister aura. "Isn't that the name of an ancient dark wizard?"

"So it's very tricky, almost unsolvable." Karen nodded. "That's the second thing I wanted to tell you, and it concerns Professor Quirrell."

The topic abruptly shifted to Quirrell, and the atmosphere instantly became even more tense. Even Wesley, who had been looking bewildered, straightened up.

"You've probably noticed it too, Professor Quirrell is very strange." Karen's gaze swept over the three of them. "It's not just his stutter and timidity. My eyes—can see things others can't. Something else, another soul, is parasitizing Professor Quirrell's body." He chose his words carefully. "It's extremely evil and highly unstable. That power must be the mastermind behind the Forbidden Forest incident, and the source of all the anomalies in the castle this semester."

"Another soul?" Wesley frowned. "You mean, like a ghost possessing him?"

"Worse, tighter, and more painful than that," Karen described. "Quirok's own soul was so severely compressed that he was almost a puppet. And the one that was parasitizing him was in a strange state, as if it had been forcibly torn apart and was clinging to someone else to eke out a living. It was full of anger and agitation, and its power seemed far less than what was said in the legends, but it was still extremely dangerous."

"It seems you've already guessed what that soul is?" Ernesto's voice was almost inaudible.

Karen didn't say the name directly, but nodded heavily. "Yes. It's the person we mentioned at the beginning of the semester."

He wasn't truly dead; he was merely hiding in this battered state under Quirrell's coin, trying to regain his strength. He deliberately avoided mentioning the name "Voldemort" to be considerate of his two wizard-turned-roommates, but everyone knew the truth.

Wesley gasped. Thanks to Fabian and Ernesto's explanations, his understanding of Voldemort far surpassed that of Grindelwald. "In—at school? On Quirrell?" He recalled Quirrell's usual cowardly and timid nature and felt a chill run down his spine.

Fabian instinctively gripped the armrests of the chair, his lips pressed pale. The shadow of Voldemort was the deepest nightmare of childhood for anyone who grew up in the wizarding world.

"Does Headmaster Dumbledore know?" Ernesto quickly grasped the key point, his tone urgent.

"Of course I know," Cullen said confidently. "Professor Snape is also keeping a close eye on Quirrell. That's why Quirrell hasn't really succeeded. The headmaster has his own plan; he seems to be guiding, or rather, controlling how things are going."

A deathly silence fell over the room. The information was overwhelming, too shocking. Grindelwald's grand-nephew, a deadly curse, a parasitic Dark Lord...

Dumbledore's chess game was beyond the comprehension of ordinary students.

After a long pause, Wesley swallowed hard and spoke somewhat hoarsely, "So—so you're telling us this because—"

? "

"There are two reasons. As you've seen what happened before, the situation could get out of control, which is why I decided to tell you this."

"I hope you'll be extra careful, and also because of the research." Karen's tone shifted, as if he hadn't just recounted the horrific truth. "Professor Castor's Helpo curse is about the erosion of the soul. And that thing inside Quirrell—its soul state is an unnatural, forcibly torn parasitic state. Although both involve soul damage, their natures are completely different. Moreover, Professor Castor has not only Helpo's curse but also that person's curse."

Then he walked to the alchemy table, picked up a thin glass rod, and unconsciously twirled it in his hand. "The former, Helbo's Curse, is like a slow and precise poison, corroding the foundation; the latter, Voldemort's remnant soul, is like a fragment forcibly glued together after a devastating explosion, full of cracks and instability."

He looked at his roommates, a thirst for knowledge in his eyes: "This unnatural state of soul parasitism is extremely rare."

It is also extremely valuable for research. If I can understand how it is maintained, why it is so unstable, and why its power is limited, this information might provide a completely new perspective on the workings of the Helbo Curse, and even find ways to alleviate and resolve Professor Castor's curse.

"You mean you're using that person's remnant soul as a research sample?!" Fabian's voice trembled, filled with disbelief.

This idea is absolutely audacious!

"Even if we can't directly resolve Helbo's curse," Karen added, her tone unusually firm, "understanding the weaknesses of this parasitic state might help alleviate another curse on Professor Castor, Voldemort's curse. Moreover, observing this extremely unstable remnant soul state is itself an exploration at the forefront of soul magic."

He paused, his grey-blue eyes gleaming like ice in the lamplight: "More importantly, as you've seen, it's weak, agitated, trapped in an equally frail body, being watched closely by Dumbledore and Snape. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. An opportunity to observe, analyze, and understand this extreme form of soul. Not for battle, but for knowledge, for—a possible solution."

Wesley's mouth dropped open, speechless for a long time. Using the Dark Lord as a research subject? How could he put it? It was too Ravenclaw-esque! Too insane! But looking at Cullen's calm eyes, he felt there might be some truth to it? After all, Dumbledore was there to back him up?

Ernesto's expression remained grave, but the initial shock in his eyes had faded, replaced by deep contemplation. He understood Cullen's logic and the risks involved. "But this is too dangerous, Cullen. Even just observation, once detected—"

“I know,” Karen interrupted him, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Therefore, I need absolute caution, and I need your understanding and support. I will not provoke it, nor will I approach Quirrell. My observation will be kept at the furthest possible distance, utilizing my eyes and any possible indirect means. Moreover, I will immediately write to Master Nicolas Flamel and Professor Castor, seeking their advice and guidance. Without their approval and a safety plan, I will not act rashly.”

He looked at his three roommates and said frankly, "I'm telling you this because you are my friends, the people I trust most."

"You have the right to know what we are facing. Secondly, if my research might require some external assistance, such as monitoring for anomalies or needing your cooperation in creating something inconspicuous, I need you to understand the reasons. Of course, safety is paramount; do not do anything that makes you feel dangerous."

Fabian took a deep breath, adjusted his glasses, and tried to calm himself. "I—I understand. For Professor Castor, and this is indeed a unique perspective. I will support you, but please, please be careful!" His voice was still a little strained, but his eyes had become firm.

Ernesto paused for a moment, then slowly nodded, his voice low: "Grindelwald! Voldemort! This Hogwarts learning life is certainly 'exciting.' Cullen, I've witnessed your courage and research spirit. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do my best."

And I also want to see that guy's remnant soul.

"Hey! Count me in!" Wesley finally reacted, slamming his hand on the table and standing up. His face was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, as if he were about to give up. "It's giving me the creeps, but it sounds really exciting! Researching the Dark Lord? Cool! Don't worry, Karen, I'm tight-lipped! What do you need me for? Keep watch? Or pretend to trip and fall near Quirrell to distract them?" He clearly hadn't fully grasped the seriousness of the situation, but his unwavering support warmed Karen's heart.

"Thank you, Wesley. You don't need to wrestle for now." Karen gave a rare, slight smile, then said seriously, "Stay alert, keep an eye out for any unusual rumors about Quirrell or strange occurrences in the castle, and let me know immediately. That will be the greatest help you can give."