The air in the bathroom seemed frozen. The troll's corpse reeked, but even more suffocating were the grave auras radiating from the three professors and Silas's feeble excuse.
Professor Dumbledore did not immediately respond to Silas's absurd claim of "Who put that spell in my wand?" Behind his half-moon spectacles, his sharp blue eyes regarded Silas deeply, as if they could pierce the soul and see many things hidden far beneath the surface. He was neither angry nor reproachful. He merely said in an exceptionally calm voice that nevertheless carried unquestionable weight:
"Mr. Kirill," his voice echoed through the silent bathroom, "please come to my office. Now."
Then he turned to Harry and Ron, who were still frozen in the doorway, their faces white. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, we will handle matters here. Return to Gryffindor Tower and your common room immediately. Do not mention tonight's events to anyone."
Harry and Ron looked as though they had been pardoned. After giving Silas one worried glance, they hurriedly dragged each other away, stumbling as they ran.
Silas looked at Dumbledore's unreadable face, his heart in turmoil. He knew he could not bluff his way through this one. Pulling a miserable face, he made one last attempt, his voice filled with deliberately exaggerated grievance and sincerity.
"Professor... I really am a good person... You have to believe me! I killed the troll to save Hermione! Look, isn't Hermione safe now? I was doing a good deed, getting rid of a menace for everyone! That green light... it, it might have just been a slightly stronger Banishing Charm? Or... maybe the troll had a bad heart and got scared to death?"
As he said things even he did not believe, he looked pleadingly at Dumbledore, hoping to see the slightest sign of leniency or amusement on the old headmaster's face.
However, Dumbledore merely sighed softly. His eyes held a complicated expression, as though he had seen through everything yet was still filled with concern. He neither refuted nor agreed. He simply repeated himself, his tone gentle but impossible to refuse:
"My office, Mr. Kirill. I believe we need to have a proper talk. About many... things."
Professor McGonagall stood to the side, her lips pressed tightly together. Her gaze at Silas was full of shock, confusion, and deep worry. Snape, meanwhile, continued to stare at him with that icy, piercing look, as if he wanted to bore a hole through Silas, gripping the wand in his hand—Silas's wand—so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
Silas knew there was no point in cracking jokes anymore. He lowered his head like a defeated rooster and muttered resignedly, "All right..."
He followed dejectedly behind Dumbledore, while McGonagall and Snape walked behind him on either side as though escorting a prisoner. The group passed silently through the quiet castle corridors toward the Headmaster's Office guarded by the stone gargoyle.
Silas's heart pounded wildly. It's over, it's over, I've really screwed up this time! I actually cast Avada Kedavra, right in front of the headmaster and the heads of house! This isn't something detention can fix! Will I be expelled? Will they send me to the Ministry of Magic for trial? Will the Old Bee believe my excuse? System! System! Think of something, quick!
Yet the system in his mind was unusually quiet, as though it had never existed.
Silas followed behind Dumbledore with his head hanging low, while Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape trailed behind him like two guardian statues. He felt like a prisoner being escorted to the execution grounds. His mind was a mess as he desperately tried to figure out how to explain that deadly green light from earlier.
It's over, it's over! I've completely screwed up this time! Avada Kedavra! Right in front of the headmaster and two heads of house! Why can't I keep my mouth shut?! No, why was my hand so fast?! Great, now I might get expelled—or even thrown into Azkaban! System! You useless system! You bail on me at the critical moment! Get out here and help me think of something!
Just as despair filled his heart, that familiar voice with its faint electronic quality finally sounded in his mind. Its tone even carried a trace of... cheerfulness?
[Ding! Detected that the host has successfully cast a spell and killed a target for the first time under extremely critical circumstances! Congratulations, host, for achieving the hidden achievement: "A First Taste of the Forbidden"!]
Silas nearly thought he had misheard. "What? There's an achievement for that? And what the hell kind of name is that?"
The system continued in the tone of someone announcing a prize winner:
[Achievement reward being issued... Congratulations, host, you have obtained—Darkhold (Fragmented Page · Chapter One)!]
As the system spoke, Silas felt the "Dark Dimension" skill tree deep within his consciousness, which had always been grayed out and locked, suddenly tremble slightly. At the very bottom of its roots, a scroll icon that had previously been completely dark lit up with an ominous purple-black glow. Though it was only the faintest glimmer, it had indeed been activated.
"Pfft—!"
Unable to hold it in, he nearly laughed out loud. He quickly covered his mouth and pretended to have choked on his saliva. The enormous absurdity of it all, along with a trace of indescribable excitement, instantly diluted the despair and anxiety in his heart.
The Darkhold?! A fragmented page?! Just because I used Avada Kedavra right under Dumbledore's nose?! What kind of logic is this system running on?! That reward is way too hardcore!
His previously heavy mood no longer seemed quite so awful. He even felt a little secretly delighted at his unexpected gain, though he knew this "gain" might be lethally poisonous.
Dumbledore seemed to have heard his suppressed snort and turned his head slightly to look at him. His gaze was profound, but he said nothing. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape also cast inquisitive looks his way.
Silas quickly lowered his head, hiding the strange expression on his face as he frantically complained to the system in his mind. "You... what kind of reward is this?! Are you encouraging me to use more Unforgivable Curses?! And can you just hand out the Darkhold like that? Doesn't that thing corrupt people's minds?!"
The system's voice returned to its slightly teasing tone.
[Host, please note that the reward is "Fragmented Page · Chapter One." Its contents primarily concern basic perception and guidance of Dark Dimension energy. It is introductory-level knowledge, and its danger is relatively controllable. This system's purpose is to "follow the host's developmental path and provide corresponding resources." Since you have already taken this step, the system must naturally provide the necessary... "reference materials" for your future "growth." Please use it with caution~]
Silas fell silent.
He understood now. This system was the sort that loved watching chaos unfold! Still, the Darkhold was simply too tempting. Even if it was only a fragmented page, it made his heart race. He secretly "looked" at the scroll icon glowing with alluring purple light in his consciousness and felt that going to the Headmaster's Office for a "cup of tea" did not seem quite so terrifying anymore.
"All right..." he said to the system in his mind. "You win. But forget the Darkhold for now. Hurry up and help me figure out how to explain that Avada Kedavra to the Old Bee later. That's the important thing!"
[...This system suggests that the host make use of your talent for language and adapt to the situation. This system currently has no relevant dialogue templates. Good luck!]
Silas fell silent. Fine. At the crucial moment, he still had to rely on his own ability to bluff.
Though the road ahead remained uncertain, with the newly acquired—if questionably obtained—fragmented page of the Darkhold tucked into his arms, or rather, his consciousness, Silas felt as though his back had straightened a little. He took a deep breath, adjusted his expression, and prepared himself for the coming "frank" conversation with the most powerful wizard.
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