Gone

The office fell into a deathly silence.

With a soft "thud," the Silver Snuffbox in Phineas Nigellus Black's hand, who was pretending to doze off with his legs crossed, fell directly onto the canvas floor.

The most unpopular Slytherin headmaster in history suddenly sprang up from his armchair, his goatee trembling violently, and cried out in a shrill voice:

"What the hell did you say?! What did you put in my Slytherin Cellar?!"

Next to it was another portrait of the female principal, who was originally reclining in Recliner with her eyes closed, resting.

Dilys de Winter, a former Healer at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and Healings, suddenly opened her eyes and rushed to the edge of the frame, her silver-haired face almost pressed against the canvas.

"So, from now on, you'll probably have to pay more attention to him."

Gavin didn't even glance at the portraits on the wall that were already in an uproar, his tone remaining calm throughout.

"Otherwise, the entire Hogwarts might not have been saved."

Elizabeth reacted before Dumbledore.

She had already witnessed the pitch-black blade pressed against her throat by the Black Lake, and her expression changed drastically, clearly realizing something.

"Wait, wasn't that Obscurus yours just now? Instead... she belonged to this child?"

"It belongs to him now." Gavin nodded.

It seems they haven't grasped the relationship between the Obscurus and the soul; Elizabeth actually believes the Obscurus and the soul are bound together.

"Now?" Elizabeth frowned, then seemed to realize something. "What about before? Who did it belong to?"

"Your daughter," Gavin, a slight smile playing on his lips, "Cordelia."

Elizabeth slowly lowered her hand, which had been supporting her injured left shoulder, and her mouth gradually opened wider.

The woman leaned forward abruptly, her grey-blue eyes staring at Gavin in disbelief. Her lips moved twice before she managed to squeeze out a sound:

"You took it off Lia...? Then Lia— "

She's alright.

The Obscurus has been completely eradicated and relocated. Cordelia is now able to live a normal life and will no longer suffer any backlash, although she is still weak and needs to recuperate.

Gavin gave a brief but affirmative answer.

"She will live a long time."

"That's impossible!"

Before Elizabeth could speak again, Dilys de Winter, the former Healer of St. Mungo's's, on the wall, cried out in disbelief.

The old woman gripped the edge of the gilded picture frame tightly, her voice trembling slightly with extreme shock:

"How could the host still be alive Obscurus has been uprooted and stripped away from a living person?!"

"In the three hundred years since the founding of St. Mungo's's Institute, not a single Obscurial has ever survived after being stripped away!"

Even the one Newt Scamander brought back from Sudan was only barely preserved after that girl died—it had long since become one with the host's Magic and soul; forcibly removing it would only result in instant death!

"That's because you guys are too bad," Gavin replied casually.

The Dilys in the picture frame almost choked on her breath, nearly forgetting that she didn't actually need to breathe. She froze on the spot, her mind buzzing with three hundred years of magical medical knowledge.

Elizabeth stood frozen by the table, her voice trembling as she asked again:

Did Lia herself know about this?

"Of course, I don't have the habit of harming sleeping people," Gavin said.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Gavin realized something was off.

How did our conversation suddenly turn into a statement taking?

Elizabeth lowered her head, took a deep breath, suppressed the tears welling up in her eyes, and after a long while, she raised her eyes again and said two words to him very solemnly:

"Thanks."

Gavin looked at the face in front of him that was exactly the same as the one in his memory, and recalled the starry sky over the Wales coast. He looked away uncomfortably, without saying anything more.

Elizabeth said nothing more, but turned back to the Fireplace and rechecked the necessary arrangement of the guiding instruments.

Her movements remained professional and efficient, but she was no longer just Unspeakable handling a business accident.

She had already made up her mind, no matter what happened next—

She will do everything in her power to get this child home safely!

Dumbledore, behind his desk, didn't dwell on his shock; he calmly looked at Gavin.

Does the child know what he received?

"I understand completely."

Gavin spoke, his gaze seemingly casually swept over Elizabeth by the Fireplace, before he added slowly and deliberately:

"He even insisted on taking it—for Cordelia's sake."

Beside the Fireplace, Elizabeth's fingers, which were arranging ritual implements, suddenly paused.

The woman paused for two seconds, her eyes slightly moist, and quickly turned her back to everyone, pretending to look down at the markings on the Fireplace.

Gavin withdrew his gaze, concealing his achievements and fame.

Gavin, this is all I can do for you.

Dumbledore's gaze softened slightly behind his desk, and he immediately asked the most crucial question:

"Can he control... the Obscurus himself?"

Gavin glanced at the old man:

"Certainly--"

"Absurd! Utter nonsense!"

Phineas Black in the picture frame couldn't help but sneer again, pointing down at the boy in the armchair.

"That's Obscurus! Even seasoned Aurors would run for their lives if they encountered him, and this third-year Muggle-born can't even recite the standard Shield Charm properly? Dumbledore, in the name of the former Headmaster of Slytherin, I demand that you immediately send him to St. Mungo's's for isolation, or tomorrow morning the entire Slytherin Cellar will be blown to smithereens!"

Gavin looked at Phineas, then pointed to the Fireplace:

"Call him 'Muggle-born' one more time, and I'll invite you to be the headmaster there."

Phineas's face stiffened in the picture frame, his goatee trembling with rage. "You... you--"

Gavin withdrew his gaze and sneered:

"And just because you can't do it doesn't mean he can't."

"My brother is a genius."

Dumbledore ignored the commotion in the picture frame and simply watched Gavin quietly.

"Then please let me see."

"Come on, show me," Gavin said to Gavin in his mind.

In the Consciousness Space, Gavin suddenly felt a little nervous, his fingers clenching the hem of his clothes tightly.

"But, Gai-ge, I've never used the Obscurus before... What if I lose control the first time I use it in front of so many people?"

"Is this your first time?" Gavin chuckled. "Actually, you've known this for a long time."

Gavin paused for a moment, then asked, "Huh?"

"That thing is just like the sand table simulations you usually demonstrate," Gavin explained calmly. "That highly concentrated white vortex inside your body is essentially a corresponding version of the Obscurus. With your pure white Magic backing it up, it can't harm you in the slightest. Try it out. You don't need to create so many at once. Just control one first, utilizing the outermost black mist is enough, just like usual."

After saying that, Gavin released his grip and handed his body over.

He didn't mention how to control one's thoughts and emotions at all; Gavin didn't need to.

In this respect, he's a genius in Daoism; it's more like he'd teach me.

The boy in the armchair took a deep breath and slowly raised his left hand, palm up.

The next second, a wisp of thick, deep, and destructive black mist silently overflowed from his palm.

The air in the entire office froze instantly.

Elizabeth, standing by the Fireplace, narrowed her eyes and instinctively placed her right hand on the handle of her Wand; the portraits of past headmasters covering the wall all held their breath, and Phineas Nigellus, who had just been shouting, even reflexively covered his head and shrank behind the bookshelf at the back of the picture frame.

However, the anticipated scene of rampage and destruction did not materialize.

The wisp of black mist, a symbol of Grim and calamity, gently gathered, outlined, and unfurled its wings in Gavin's palm.

In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a lifelike, jet-black butterfly.

The black butterfly fluttered its thin, misty wings, swirling lightly around the boy's fingertips before gently landing on his index finger knuckle, without even a trace of excess black energy escaping.

Everyone in the room was stunned.

Elizabeth, by the Fireplace, slowly released her grip on her Wand, her grey-blue eyes filled with disbelief; Phineas, in the corner of the picture frame, remained crouched with his head in his hands, peeking out through his fingers with suspicion.

Gavin, Gavin thought the old headmaster hadn't seen clearly, so he quickly raised his hand and made the black butterfly on his fingertip fly a little closer to the picture frame.

Phineas's face turned ashen, and without a word, he turned and crawled into the portrait of Armando Dippet next door.

"Don't come this way!" Dippet shoved him away.

"I'm not Obscurus!"

"But you'll lure it here!"

The portraits of past principals on the wall suddenly became a mess, and several former principals grabbed their teacups and sleeping caps and fled into the outermost frames.

Only Dilys de Winter, the former Healer of St. Mungo's's, not only didn't run, but instead stepped across the frame and shoved Phineas, who was blocking her way:

"Get out of my way! I haven't even seen it clearly yet!"

The old woman's face was almost pressed against the canvas, her eyes moving up and down with each gentle flutter of the black butterfly's wings.

Throughout the millennia-long history of the Wizarding World, the Obscurus been a ruthless and destructive natural disaster, devoid of any rationality.

Who has ever seen anyone mold an Obscurus into a butterfly, making it dance on their fingertips?

Gavin's eyes lit up as he watched the black butterfly fly back to his fingertip, and he exclaimed in delight:

"Gai-ge, I really can!"

"Heh, that's basic stuff." Gavin chuckled in his mind. "If you have the energy, you can try more."

Gavin nodded vigorously, the last trace of fear in his eyes completely gone.

The boy took another deep breath and gently spread his left hand across the principal's desk.

In an instant, a denser, black mist surged out like a tide, instantly covering the entire large Wooden Table.

The elderly headmasters, who had just stopped walking on the wall, gasped in shock. Before they could continue their escape, the swirling black mist on the table suddenly split and solidified—

Miniature mountains, valleys, and city walls rise from the tabletop, and hundreds of Miniature Black-Mist Soldiers, clearly clad in armor and wielding spears and round shields, form a neat formation.

With Gavin fingertips, Gavin's two armies on the black mist sand table instantly clashed:

Cavalry charge in formation, infantry raise their shields to meet the enemy, archers draw their bows and fire in unison. Soldiers scattered into black mist are then gathered and repaired by the surrounding mist in the next second, and even the wrinkles of the battle flags fluttering in the wind are clearly visible.

A sand table depicting a vast army, constructed from the world's most terrifying dark calamities, was thus laid out on the principal's desk with perfect precision and order.

The portraits covering the walls fell into a deathly silence.

Phineas Nigellus, squeezed into the corner of the picture frame, nearly bulged his eyes out; his goatee trembled for a long time, but he couldn't utter a single word.

The previous comment, "Muggle-born who can't even pronounce the Shield Charm properly," felt like a resounding slap in the face, making his old face burn with pain.

Having secured the best observation spot, Dilys de Winter covered her mouth tightly, her voice trembling:

"To mold Obscurus like clay... while simultaneously controlling hundreds of intricate individuals?! Merlin's beard... I've never seen such control before. Is he truly a genius?"

A few seconds later, Gavin felt his mental energy was somewhat depleted, so he gently clenched his fist and steadily pulled the black mist sand table and the black butterfly back into his body, leaving not a trace of black mist on the table.

Behind his desk, Dumbledore watched silently as the black mist dissipated from Gavin's fingertips, remaining silent for a long time.

"My child, you have a wonderful older brother," Dumbledore suddenly said.

"Huh?" Gavin didn't know why the other person suddenly said that.

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head wearily:

"I wish I could have been like him back then."

The old man's usual quirky smile slowly faded, and a distant and profound nostalgia surfaced in his blue eyes behind his Half-moon Spectacles.

I once had a younger sister Ariana.

Dumbledore suddenly spoke softly:

"She was also an Obscurial."

Gavin paused slightly, then looked up at the old man behind the desk.

"That summer more than ninety years ago, Gellert, my brother Aberforth, and I got into an argument and pulled out our Wands."

Dumbledore looked at the table where the black mist had dissipated and said in a very soft voice:

"Ariana rushed downstairs to stop us, but the Obscurus and backfired on her. Gellert thought his curse had killed my sister, and he fled United Kingdom in a panic that very night; and I, holding her as she collapsed, also thought we had accidentally killed her, and I fell into utter despair."

"But thankfully, Ariana briefly regained consciousness before closing her eyes in my arms. She gripped my sleeve and, with her last bit of strength, said two words to me."

The old man took off his glasses and slowly wiped the lenses with the corner of his robe, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

She said, "Brother, don't cry... No one's curse struck me; it was my own body that couldn't hold on any longer."

She also said, 'Don't blame yourself, and don't blame him... I like seeing you smile... Keep smiling from now on, okay?'

At this point, Dumbledore's voice lowered, and a deep pain welled up in his blue eyes:

"But those two sentences didn't bring me relief; instead, they plunged me into deeper pain and self-blame."

"Because that summer, I was so preoccupied with Gellert and our Grand Ambitions that I completely ignored her upstairs, not even noticing that her body was reaching its limit."

"At the time, I was convinced that her last words, 'I love seeing you smile,' were just a lie that silly girl made up to comfort me before she died, so that I wouldn't live with guilt."

"The thought that she was still humbly trying to understand and comfort me until her last breath makes it impossible for me to forgive myself, and I have no face to go to Gellert."

"I punished myself with this guilt for forty-six years, until after I personally defeated Gellert and imprisoned him in Nurmengard, I returned to my old house in Godric's Hollow to sort through old things, and there I found a notebook that Ariana had secretly written under the loose floorboards in her room."

Dumbledore put his glasses back on, his voice gentle yet husky:

"She wrote in her notebook that it was the happiest day she had ever had."

"She said that before, seeing me trapped in the valley to take care of her, and having to force a smile for her every time, it felt like needles were pricking her heart; until that summer Gellert came, and she saw me laughing heartily in the garden every day from the windowsill, she finally felt that she was no longer the cage that locked up her brother."

"On the last page, she wrote, 'That was the happiest summer of my life.'"

"On the day I saw that notebook, I realized she hadn't lied to me before she left. It finally resolved the knot in my heart that had troubled me for half my life. I wrote to tell Gellert the truth... Unfortunately, by then, forty-six years had passed between us, and the tower of Nurmengard stood between us."

The old man looked at the boy across the table and sighed softly:

"So I can't help but think, if only I had been more considerate of the feelings of those around me back then, if only those who loved each other had been less self-righteous and arrogant, and had opened up their hearts to each other sooner, how wonderful that would have been."

A moment of silence fell over the Circular Office.

Gavin leaned back in his armchair, looking at the white-bearded old man in front of him, his expression momentarily subtle.

So that's how it is.

No wonder the White Wizard of this world disappeared and turned into the "White Mad King" who drinks on everyone he sees.

Gavin, Gavin's mind flashed to the image of Dumbledore from his own world.

Since in this world, Ariana died from the backlash of her own Obscurus, and left behind a notebook recording her true feelings under the floorboards of the old house.

In their original world, the truth back then was probably the same.

The only difference is that Ariana in that world died too quickly and didn't have time to say her last two words.

And Dumbledore of that world, because he never dared to touch this wound in his entire life, may never have returned, nor been able to find the notebook his sister left under the floorboards.

So, in his own timeline, Dumbledore lived a life tormented by the fear of "did I kill my sister with my own hands?", locking himself in a sealed, isolated island.

Gavin suddenly realized that Old Dumbledore, who was always a riddle teller in his world, was actually quite pitiful.

"I'm sorry, as an elderly person, I've made you look foolish."

Dumbledore composed himself and prepared to move on to the next topic.

"So, what's next?"

"Wait a minute."

Gavin interrupted Dumbledore, seized control, and his gaze fell on the old, dirty pointed wizard's hat on the shelf in the corner.

He recalled the first unsolved case when he first came to this world, and the original culprit—

Sorting Hat.

"I have a question to ask the Sorting Hat."

"Oh, of course." Dumbledore gestured for him to proceed.

The tattered, pointed wizard's hat immediately shook the Dust off its brim, opened its wide opening, and habitually cleared its throat:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but my wisdom is unparalleled. If you have any questions you'd like to ask—"

"What exactly did you see that made you so determined to send him to Slytherin?"

You mean --

"The owner of this body."

"Oh! I still remember that day, I still remember it to this day."

The Sorting Hat on the shelf suddenly shook its brim, and its wide, split opening immediately cried out:

"That's for sure--"

"Ambition! Unparalleled ambition!"

"Ambition?" Gavin laughed angrily. "This kid is so stupid that he didn't even think to go to the professor after being beaten up. You call that ambition?"

"Well... I can't be that stupid, can I?" Gavin thought to himself, bowing his head in shame.

The Sorting Hat resolutely rejected this claim, its tip pointing high, and the voice conveyed a firm conviction in upholding the dignity of a millennium-old profession:

"Nonsense! When I was sorting through the departments, I saw a terrifyingly deep desire in his mind, far exceeding money or worldly power!"

"I doubt even Salazar himself has such grand ambitions—"

Ambition even greater than Slytherin's?

How ridiculous.

Gavin stood up in anger. Didn't he know what kind of person Gavin was?

If this lousy hat isn't explained clearly today...

He wants to become a god!

An eerie silence fell over the Circular Office.

"Ha?"

Gavin was genuinely stunned this time.

He turned his head in the Consciousness Space, looking at Gavin's spirit with a strange expression:

"You still have this ambition?"

Gavin shrank back, hesitated for a moment, and then asked in a low voice:

"... Does becoming an immortal count?"

"Become an immortal?" Gavin murmured to himself, then suddenly fell silent.

"That's right, that's it!"

Hearing this murmur, the Sorting Hat on the shelf immediately declared loudly that there was absolutely no difference, and confidently listed the irrefutable evidence it had seen back then.

From the age of nine, this child has been meditating day after day, using astonishing willpower to tightly bind immense power within his body, and harboring an almost obsessive desire for that power.

Gavin felt something was amiss as he listened, and began to quietly defend himself:

"I was just practicing according to the book... that's what everyone says in the book..."

Gavin twitched the corner of his mouth.

Indeed, every Daoist classic is about achieving immortality.

"You want to transcend mortals! To become a great being!" the hat insisted. "To gain immortality!"

"I just want to learn to fly," Gavin whispered. "And I want to live a long time and see many places."

Gavin finally snapped out of his daze.

It turns out that when this kid was nine years old, he flipped through old Daoist books on his mother's bookshelf to learn meditation, mistaking the surge of Magic for "Primordial Qi," focusing his mind on his dantian, and dreaming of flying on a sword and achieving immortality.

As a result, in the eyes of this tattered hat who had never seen the East cultivation culture, it was directly translated into "a peerless ambitious person who, at the age of nine, already knew how to conceal his talents and plot to surpass mortals and ascend to the throne of gods."

This damn hat's natural language processing module is definitely malfunctioning.

Gavin rubbed his temples and looked at the shelf speechlessly:

"He's practicing meditation. Do you think he's suppressing his emotions?"

He's good at hiding his true strength!

"He just doesn't know how to use it."

He's good at hiding his thoughts!

He was just spacing out.

The tip of the Sorting Hat stood even straighter:

"And he remained calm! When I announced Slytherin, he didn't even raise an eyebrow! I was immediately certain I hadn't made the wrong choice!"

Gavin looked at it.

"Is it possible that he doesn't even know what Slytherin is?"

"..."

The green flames in the Fireplace suddenly shot up.

A Bronze Compass inlaid with intricate silver rings and transparent graduated tubes was delivered to the Headmaster's Office via the Floo passage, breaking the eerie silence.

Dumbledore smiled and smoothed things over, "Alright, alright, it's all a misunderstanding. Let's be kind and discuss your going home."

Gavin closed his eyes; if he didn't need their help, he would have burned the tattered hat.

"After I'm gone, find a chance to burn this tattered hat," Gavin instructed in his mind.

"Oh well."

Gavin nodded obediently, then asked with an innocent look:

"Is this for you?"

"..."

Gavin's lips twitched as he looked at Gavin, but Gavin's gaze was clear, even revealing a hint of foolishness, clearly indicating that he genuinely didn't understand.

... I almost forgot, he's an idiot.

Gavin could only take a deep breath and remain silent.

Elizabeth stepped forward and took the Time Hall's Source-Tracing Compass to the table, but instead of activating it immediately, she turned to look at Gavin in the armchair:

"Before I start the compass calculations, I need to confirm—how did you end up here? What happened on your end before you came here?"

"How else could it have come from?"

Gavin leaned back in his chair and said irritably:

"The first time I used the Time-Turner in my original world, that damn thing exploded and blasted me here—the moment I opened my eyes, I was already inside Gavin's head."

Elizabeth and Dumbledore exchanged a glance, their expressions suddenly realizing:

"The Time-Turner exploded? That makes sense... No wonder a wisp of unfamiliar Time Sand, not found in the files, appeared out of thin air on the base of the Calibration Master Clock in the Time Hall around Monday noon a dozen days ago. It seems that when you shattered the Time-Turner over there, the spilled Time Sand leaked through the time flow cracks along with your soul."

As she spoke, she took out a small, sealed glass tube from her bosom, poured a few grains of unfamiliar Time Sand that she had collected from the base of the Calibration Master Clock that day into the compass base, and activated the magical artifact with a wave of her staff.

The silver ring spun rapidly, projecting a clear main line of light onto the compass, which branched into two parallel thin lines at close range. Between the two thin lines, there was also a subtle but glaring broken mark.

Elizabeth carefully examined the markings on the dial, her tense brow relaxing slightly.

"I've figured it out. You don't come from some completely unknown otherworld, but rather you exist on the same main timeline as us, but in a different Timeline Branch."

Dumbledore was behind the desk, also got up and came over. Through his half-moon spectacles, he examined the broken line between the two streams and spoke thoughtfully:

"The core of the Time-Turner is the 'Hour-Reversal Charm' sealed within the Time Sand. Under normal circumstances, it should take the user's body and soul back along their original path..."

"Judging from the traces left by these few grains of Time Sand, it seems that at the moment you activated the converter, the Reverse-Time Charm encountered some kind of obstacle or paradox in your soul, failing to bring your body back in sync. This caused the separation between your spirit and body, triggering the Time Sand overload explosion."

Elizabeth nodded and continued the conversation:

"While these few grains of Time Sand alone cannot determine exactly why your Time-Turner malfunctioned, one thing is certain—"

"Your soul was essentially shaken out of its original tributary by the out-of-control Reverse-Time Charm, and because it resonated with Gavin, it was drawn into his Consciousness Space through the time rift."

She pointed to the few grains of gold that were glowing in the base of the compass, her tone certain:

"Fortunately, these grains of Time Sand that leaked out with you are still firmly Anchor Point to the original Timeline Branch of your journey. As long as we activate the Time Sand with the compass, and then Headmaster Dumbledore and I jointly cast Reverse-Time Charm on you, we can reverse that out-of-control trajectory and push your soul back along the original path."

Gavin looked at the two clear Timeline Branches on the compass, his eyes flickering slightly.

Since the Department of Mysteries' instrument can reveal the trajectory of the Reverse-Time Charm's uncontrolled crossing of the tributary, could my past experience of traveling from Earth to this magical world five years ago be the cause of the paradox?

And what if this compass happens to spot it?

Thinking of this, Gavin subtly probed with a question:

"Besides this, did you notice anything else?"

Elizabeth paused as she adjusted the silver ring, looked up at him with some confusion, then looked down again to carefully check the compass markings.

"That's all. The chart is clean, except for this one instance of crossing a tributary... What else do you expect to see?"

"Nothing, just asking."

Gavin gave a casual reply, but his brows furrowed inwardly.

It didn't detect anything?

Not even the slightest trace?

Was my method of time travel too complicated?

Is the instrument unable to locate itself because it lacks time sand?

Before Gavin could figure out the trick, Elizabeth, who was fiddling with the silver ring to lock onto the target of the time travel, suddenly changed her expression, and her Wand abruptly stopped in mid-air.

Dumbledore was standing nearby, also noticed something was wrong. He looked down at the two needles on the compass that were tightly locked together, and his white eyebrows furrowed.

Gavin raised an eyebrow:

"What's wrong? Do I have to postpone my trip home again?"

Elizabeth raised her head, her expression extremely solemn:

"This magical artifact... cannot separate the two of you."

She pointed to the completely overlapping soul markings on the dial, her voice tightening. "Your two souls are embedded too deeply in the Consciousness Space. If you cast Reverse-Time Charm directly on this body, Gavin's original soul will also be torn apart and taken away."

Gavin frowned:

"How can I be the only one they send off?"

Dumbledore at the biting pointer, pondered for a moment and then offered a solution:

"The only way to avoid harming Gavin is to first separate your soul from this body and transfer it to an inanimate container outside, then we'll cast the Reverse-Time Charm on that container separately."

"But in the Wizarding World, there's a way for a living person to separate their soul into an inanimate object—"

Elizabeth gave a bitter laugh, her face unusually grim as she continued the conversation:

"But to do that you would have to commit extreme evil, perhaps even murder, to tear and separate the soul..."

Gavin found the description increasingly familiar, and with a strange expression, he interrupted her:

"Wait, what you're talking about... isn't that Horcrux?"

Upon hearing this, the portraits of past principals, which had been peeking through the walls, all gasped in shock.

Dumbledore, standing beside the desk, suddenly sharpened his gaze, his eyes behind his Half-moon Spectacles carrying a hint of scrutiny.

"Mr. Gu, you... know about Horcruxes?"

"I know," Gavin said casually. "I've done a lot."

The entire Circular Office instantly fell into a deathly stillness.

The air seemed to have been frozen solid by a powerful freezing spell.

Elizabeth stared wide-eyed, nearly dropping her Wand; Dumbledore's expression froze completely, even his breath caught in his throat.

With a "thud," Phineas Black, who had just strolled back into his canvas, turned pale. He slammed the snuff bottle in his hand onto his foot again, and without saying a word, he shrank under the Oak desk in the canvas, not daring to even breathe.

It's done... much better?!

Even Voldemort, that madman, only dared to sneak around and test things out back in school. This seemingly harmless boy, however, casually says he's "done a lot"?

Just how many people did he harm in his original world?

Gavin was completely unaware of anything amiss; he simply stroked his chin and examined the Bronze Compass on the table.

"So, all I have to do is find something nearby to put my soul inside?"

Elizabeth swallowed, her throat went dry, and she instinctively took a half-step back.

"Theoretically, that's correct, but you need to do that first—"

Gavin, seeing her expression, finally realized what she meant and interrupted her:

"No need to kill anyone, I know this stuff very well."

"Huh?" Elizabeth was a little stunned.

Gavin waved his hand dismissively.

"Your understanding of Horcruxes is far too superficial; it's obvious you've never made one yourself."

Elizabeth and Dumbledore: "..."

Really.

What kind of good person would bother making Horcruxes?!

Gavin looked at Elizabeth's completely unaware expression, but felt a little strange.

When Cordelia took him away with the Locket a couple of days ago, she hadn't killed anyone.

It seems that girl overheard her mother's conversation somewhere, secretly learned this magic behind her mother's back, and then recklessly attacked. It must be said that Cordelia's talent is indeed quite good; she found the right way to fight in no time.

However, doesn't this Ravenclaw lady have a rather excessive collection of books in her home?

Is it possible to find out how to make Horcruxes so easily?

However, Gavin considerately kept this secret from her, even though it could easily trigger a family crisis.

Otherwise, Gavin will be the one who suffers in the end.

Thinking of this, Gavin glanced at the Bronze Compass on the table.

Once Horcrux is formed, it will repel other spells. If this compass is used directly as a container to make Horcrux, who knows if its original positioning function will be affected?

Just find any other inanimate object to use as a temporary container.

Thinking of this, his gaze swept across the large desk, and he reached out to grab the Pure Silver Astrolabe next to him, which was inlaid with sapphires and was merrily emitting white smoke.

Dumbledore lightning speed, pressed down on the Pure Silver Astrolabe:

"This won't do."

Gavin raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Gellert gave it to me," Dumbledore quite frankly.

Gavin paused, then immediately withdrew his hand in disgust, his gaze shifting to the Sorting Hat on the shelf in the corner, as he stroked his chin.

"Picture frame!"

The Sorting Hat on the shelf seemed to be on high alert, its tip snapping upright and pointing precisely at the wall.

"Use Black's! His is made of solid wood!"

Phineas, who had just peeked halfway out from under the desk, nearly fainted, pointing at the Sorting Hat and cursing:

Why don't you offer yourself up?!

"I also want to assign departments to freshmen!"

"Can you even tell the difference?!"

Just as the hat and the painting were about to come to blows, Elizabeth was standing nearby, finally couldn't stand it anymore. She reached out and picked up a transparent crystal paperweight from the corner of the table, which was used to weigh down letters, and slammed it down on the desk next to the Bronze Compass.

"What about this? Nobody wants to comment?"

The office instantly became quiet.

Gavin glanced at the crystal paperweight next to the compass but didn't find anything wrong with it.

"Alright. In a moment, I'll cast a spell to seal my soul into this paperweight. Once my soul leaves this body, you just need to chant the Reverse-Time Charm Timeline Branch."

Elizabeth looked at the boy before her, who had arranged forbidden Dark Magic with such clarity, and slowly nodded:

"... good."

Dumbledore slowly exhaled, looking at the boy before him who could casually use even forbidden Dark Magic as a ferry. The last bit of filter he had for a student shattered completely in his eyes.

Where did this monster come from?

Even Tom —no, Gellert— in the same grade doesn't have that ability, does he?

The old man was silent for a moment, then suddenly seemed to remember something and asked softly:

Is there someone waiting for you in your original world?

"Of course," Gavin replied.

Just as I expected.

Dumbledore nodded.

It's amazing that even a child like this has someone waiting for him to come home.

That's great!

Is that why he still maintains his rationality?

Indeed, love is the greatest magic in the world.

Dumbledore gently wiped away the tears from the corner of his eyes, asked no more questions, turned around and raised his Wand with Elizabeth, steadily pointing the tip of the wand at the compass.

The two nodded to Gavin, indicating that they were ready.

The silver ring on the outer edge of the compass began to spin rapidly again, ready to lock onto any souls that had broken free.

In the Consciousness Space, Gavin stood by the Alaya Consciousness River, watching as all preparations outside were complete. A sudden emptiness filled his heart, and he whispered:

"Gai-ge... Shall we leave now?"

"Okay, I'm leaving."

Gavin answered crisply and decisively, without even turning around to look at him again.

Gavin opened his mouth, and his nose suddenly felt a little sore. For the past week or so, he could call out "Gai-ge" in his mind at any time, knowing that no matter what happened, someone would always be there to support him.

"Then I'll do it from now on—"

Before he could finish his question, Gavin had already turned his back to him and casually waved on the riverbank, leaving only the last sentence:

Take good care of yourself, and don't forget to meditate.

Gavin paused, then stammered, "... Oh, okay."

Before he could utter another word, Gavin, sitting in the armchair outside, had already raised his Hawthorn Wand, the tip pointing at the transparent crystal paperweight on the desk.

Buzz--

A warm, pure white light suddenly shone from inside the paperweight, and a precise, soul-stirring force arose out of nowhere.

At the same instant, Gavin decisively relinquished control of his body in his Consciousness Space. The entire foreign soul was instantly pulled out by that pulling force, transforming into a stream of light and directly disappearing into the crystal paperweight on the desk!

Click!

As Gavin's soul was sealed into the paperweight, the two pointers on the compass, which had been tightly locked together, suddenly separated. One of them abruptly turned and pointed steadily at the glowing crystal paperweight beside it.

Elizabeth and Dumbledore tensed up and simultaneously swung their Wands, unleashing the immense power of the Reverse-Time Charm into the crystal paperweight.

The blinding silver light suddenly receded inward.

Gavin left the body.

The light faded.

The same boy was still in the Circular Office, sitting in the same armchair.

Gavin blinked, lowered his head, and clenched his fist again, as if to confirm that the body now only obeyed his own will.

Elizabeth stepped forward and checked on Gavin.

Although the grayish-black lesions on the knuckles did not disappear immediately, they have stopped spreading and can be repaired with the Patronus Charm.

With that thought in mind, she felt relieved.

The inspection was over, but the room remained quiet.

After a long while, the Sorting Hat on the shelf cautiously asked:

"He's really gone?"

Gavin answered in a low voice:

"Yes, that's right."

A portrait on the wall peeked out from the edge of its frame to confirm the alarm was over; another finally remembered it could move and put down the wine glass it had been holding halfway; Headmaster Black, still shaken and grumbling, also came out.

"You brat, what are you pretending for?!"

"Don't you dare insult my brother!"

Gavin abruptly raised his head, looking at the picture frame, his eyes swirling with darkness.

Phineas shrank back sharply, whether from Gavin's lingering influence or from not wanting to stoop to Gavin's level, the rest of his curse stuck in his throat, and he obediently shut his mouth.

Seeing Gavin's protective attitude, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile, leaning back in her chair and letting out a long sigh; Dumbledore also took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

After a long while, Dumbledore glanced at the water glass on the table, then at the Sorting Hat, and suddenly sighed:

"I must be very powerful in another world."

"What?"

Elizabeth looked up, not understanding what he meant.

"I mean—" Dumbledore pointed to the crystal paperweight, "He can keep a student like that in check."

"..."

Elizabeth chuckled and shook her head.

A burst of laughter immediately filled the office, and even the Sorting Hat swayed its tip.

The turmoil that had plagued everyone all night has finally come to a satisfactory conclusion.

Dumbledore put his glasses back on and looked at the boy in the armchair with a smile:

"Alright, Gavin. Your new dorm room is all set up, so you can finally get a good night's sleep tonight."

Elizabeth also came over, gently took his hand, and straightened his slipped robe sleeve:

"Don't worry about your hand injury, I've already checked it. I'll use Patronus to treat it for you later, and it'll heal quickly. From now on, you'll have Headmaster Dumbledore, me, and Lia at school... No one will bully you anymore."

Gavin nodded obediently:

"Yes, I know."

Elizabeth smiled with relief and was about to let go.

Clatter

A scalding tear fell without warning, landing on the back of her hand.

Elizabeth's smile froze, "Gavin?"

Dumbledore and the portraits on the wall were all stunned.

The boy in the armchair kept his head down, his hands neatly placed on his knees, but tears kept falling onto his Black Robes.

He raised the back of his hand and rubbed his eyes haphazardly, but he couldn't get them clean no matter what he did, and his voice was so hoarse that it was almost inaudible.

"But, Mrs Rowle— "

Gavin looked up, his eyes red-rimmed.

"I don't have a brother anymore."