Avada Kedavra

Avada Kedavra

July 29, 1990, London, Muller Orphanage.

"As you've heard, Mr. Kedavra, you're a wizard too."

"So now, please tell me: would you like to go to Hogwarts, learn magic, and join the wizarding world?"

Avada Kedavra sat stiffly, nervous. On the table before him lay an envelope bearing a large letter H, surrounded by a lion, a snake, an eagle, and a badger.

At the other end of the table sat an elderly white-haired man. He wore Half-moon Spectacles, had a crooked hooked nose, and a startlingly long white beard, yet his face was kind and gentle. Smiling, he watched the boy with bright blue eyes, waiting for his answer.

Avada Kedavra, however, didn't dare move a muscle.

He couldn't help it. To his senses, Albus Dumbledore before him seemed like a magnificent star, shining like an emperor and commanding all the magic and matter around him. Though his expression was kind and his mental aura showed that he truly was being patient, Avada still felt crushed beneath his presence, barely able to breathe.

It wasn't that Dumbledore was deliberately exerting pressure. It was Avada's unique gift: Magic Sense.

Avada Kedavra was a transmigrator. Once the brain in his new body had fully developed and he was finally able to think clearly, he'd been astonished to discover that he possessed a sense he hadn't had in his previous life.

It didn't belong to any of the five senses. It was somewhat like the "spiritual sense" described in cultivation novels. Through this sense, the world he "saw" was made up of countless complex lines and patches of color. Every object visible to his eyes had a corresponding structure, but even places that seemed completely empty were filled with lines and patches of color—only these were much simpler, more orderly, and more solid.

The only exception was the human body. Through this sense, everyone had a red and a golden halo around them, each containing countless incredibly complex structures. The space between them, however, was completely blank, as if there were no bones or organs inside.

Gradually, Avada discovered that he could influence the golden halo around himself through his thoughts, emotions, speech, and movements. He could control it, extend it outward, and make it produce specific fluctuations that touched and affected the structures of everything in the world. After countless explorations and experiments, he successfully found the model structure representing "gravity," then used his golden radiance to break it apart, making a pen float in the air.

The method was simple: all he had to do was wave his arm a few times and say, "Wingardium Leviosa."

He'd realized right then that this was the world of Harry Potter.

As a die-hard fan of the original books, he knew the Levitation Charm by heart.

The lines and patches of color he sensed were probably what people called magic. As he perceived it, the material world floated upon magic like ice floes on the ocean. The currents could disturb the ice, and the water and ice could transform into one another. Matter and magic worked the same way.

After observing them for a long time, he'd also figured out what the two halos of red and gold represented: the body's life force and mental power.

Then came the letter that had arrived yesterday, and Albus Dumbledore's visit just now.

"Of course I'm willing!"

At last, Avada nodded firmly and accepted Dumbledore's invitation.

"Excellent."

Dumbledore nodded with a smile, but then his expression turned serious. "Under normal circumstances, I would take you to Diagon Alley to collect the grant for Muggle-born students and buy a wand and other supplies. But your situation is rather unusual, and I'd like you to come somewhere else with me first."

"Where?" Avada asked curiously, wondering what about him Dumbledore considered unusual. Surely it couldn't be his ridiculous name?

Would he really be sent to Azkaban for having a name that sounded like the Avada Kedavra curse?

"The Ministry of Magic."

Before Avada could show his surprise, Dumbledore stood and opened the door. "Relax. It's nothing to worry about. They're simply responsible for maintaining basic order in the wizarding world and making sure Muggles—people who can't do magic—don't discover it."

"Professor Dumbledore, are you finished?"

At the sound of the door opening, a young woman in uniform came over and regarded the oddly dressed old man with curiosity.

"We had a very productive talk. Mr. Kedavra has agreed to attend Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "I thought I'd take him to see the school first, and perhaps buy a few school supplies while we're at it. There's no need to pack; we'll be back in a little while."

"Certainly, Professor Dumbledore." She nodded, then turned to Avada with a smile. "I hope your studies go well, little Avada."

"Thank you, Mrs. Green."

Avada smiled and thanked Mrs. Green for her good wishes, then followed Dumbledore out of the orphanage and onto the street. After walking for a while and turning a few corners, they entered a quiet alley.

"Apparition might be a little hard for you to handle just yet..."

Dumbledore murmured as he considered their options for a moment, then raised a hand and called, "Fawkes."

A brilliant burst of flame flared beside Dumbledore, and from within it emerged a beautiful scarlet bird: Fawkes the phoenix.

A flicker of surprise crossed Avada's eyes. The radiance around Fawkes was dazzling, and the structures within it were countless times more complex than those of a human. Just looking for a moment made Avada's head throb with pain.

"Hold on to my arm," Dumbledore instructed.

Avada knew what would happen next, so he grabbed Dumbledore's arm tightly. The next moment, his vision filled with scarlet flames.

When the flames died away, the scene before him had completely changed.

Before him lay a magnificent hall, its dark wooden floor polished to a mirror shine. Glittering golden symbols were set into the peacock-blue ceiling, constantly moving and changing like a gigantic noticeboard suspended high above. The walls were all paneled in glossy dark wood, with row upon row of gold-trimmed fireplaces embedded in them.

A fountain stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall. In the center of a circular pool rose a group of solid gold statues. The tallest depicted a dignified wizard holding his wand high and pointing it at the sky. Around him stood a beautiful witch, a Centaur, a Goblin, and a House-elf.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, Professor Dumbledore."

At the sight of that unmistakable burst of flame, the Ministry receptionist immediately came forward and said respectfully, "The Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries are waiting for you. Please follow me."

"So, Professor Dumbledore, what are we doing here?" Avada asked curiously.

"Sorting out the matter of your name."

Dumbledore's expression grew serious. "You don't yet understand that your name has an extremely evil meaning in the wizarding world. Using it as a name is practically the same as cursing yourself. It'll cause you all sorts of trouble in the future."

"And according to my investigation, your name seems to have come from the Ministry's Department of Mysteries, a department devoted to studying all kinds of secrets and unknowns."

"To make sure my student isn't treated as a test subject, there are things I need to find out for myself. That's why I came to meet you personally. Ordinarily, a student's introduction is handled by whichever professor happens to be free."

Avada's pupils contracted.

The Department of Mysteries was the most mysterious institution in the original books, and its research dealt with cutting-edge fields like time and space, and fate. How could an orphan with no magical background like him have anything to do with them?!