The preliminary research on the Obsidian Recovery Potion is coming along, and the manor's looking pretty decent too. Hey, old goblin, how about lending a hand after you're off work?
"Once Christmas is over and the next full moon rolls around, I can swing by the Forbidden Forest again. That way, I can finish becoming an Animagus and check if the unicorn's around while I'm at it."
Right now, Dylan's got a raven and a dragon under his belt.
The unicorn, though? It doesn't seem like he can outright make it his pet, but popping by every now and then to borrow some blood? That's not a bad deal at all.
"If I could snag a Niffler too, that'd be awesome. A black platypus—loved those in my last life. Now that I'm here, how could I not raise one?"
As for how Dylan plans to save Cedric later on—well, he's obviously going to let his alternate persona take the stage.
But here's the catch: it does come with a bit of a problem.
He can't exactly split himself in two. No matter what, whenever he's playing the role of Karthas, Dylan's always conveniently "missing."
That's kind of a hassle.
It's not like he can just transform into Karthas in front of everyone with a dazzling, perfect reveal, right?
—I mean, he's not some magical girl!
Dylan took a quick glance at the scenery passing by outside, sorted out his thoughts, and then pulled out the notes he'd copied from the restricted books earlier. Time for a little review.
When he first borrowed books from the Restricted Section, he grabbed three. Among them were *Tracing Ancient Magic and Analyzing Ultimate Spells* and *Soul Comprehension and Forbidden Manipulation*.
Some of the stuff in those books is pretty fascinating. Even after reading them over and over, Dylan never gets bored. In fact, he keeps picking up new insights every time.
Especially that soul-related book—it pairs so well with the handful of soul-power spells he's already mastered. The combo's been sparking all kinds of fresh ideas for him.
Dylan's even got a rough concept for a new spell. It's not fully polished yet, but if he can pull it off, its power's definitely going to be something serious.
And practicality? Oh, it'd be off the charts!
That said, designing a spell isn't child's play. You can't just slap an idea together and call it done.
It's not only about crafting the incantation or chanting some words to make it all happen.
The flow and control of magical energy, the structure of the spell, the casting method—all of it has to be built from scratch, step by step.
And during the trial-and-error process, one tiny slip-up could mean the spell doesn't just fail—it might even turn dangerous.
Like, say, losing control of the magic and causing an explosion, or triggering some unpredictable magical effect.
Plus, this spell of Dylan's ties into some tricky stuff about souls and bodies. He's going to need live test subjects for experiments.
"Last time I hit up Knockturn Alley, the Aurors must've been sniffing around too long. Once they finally cleared out, a bunch of dark wizards showed up to trade stuff. Then I swooped in, caused a ruckus, and took out a ton of them. Bet the Aurors rounded up the rest afterward, huh?"
So, grabbing dark wizards from Knockturn Alley might be a tall order now.
—They're all gone.
What's left are probably just the crippled, half-dead, barely-hanging-on types.
Those guys wouldn't survive Dylan's spell experiments.
They might even drop dead from fright before he can cast anything, leaving him to just use his *Decay Bloom* spell to turn them into Obsidian Flowers.
—That's the name Dylan gave those black flowers that sprout from corpses.
After all this time studying them, he's got a decent grasp of what they can do.
First off, the Obsidian Flowers have this mysterious vibe—something Dylan still hasn't fully cracked. They seem to have the ability to regrow lost limbs, revive decayed souls, and even rejuvenate rotting corpses.
He figured that out through tons of experiments, but he hasn't managed to refine it into a targeted potion yet.
Even using the flowers raw doesn't give super obvious results—but for healing injuries? They're incredible.
Dylan realized how special they were when he noticed they could heal wounds crazy fast. Just mash up some petals into a paste, slap it on a cut, and you'd see results almost instantly. That's when he started thinking the Obsidian Flowers might have even bigger potential.
He's got a hunch that if he can unlock their deepest secrets, he might just whip up a game-changing potion—one that could rewrite fate and shake up the whole world!
For now, though, he's already cooked up a basic healing potion using them.
Good thing he's got his raven, his dragon, and even access to unicorn hair and blood.
Plus, whenever he bumps into rare magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest, he snags a little something from them too.
So, he's not exactly short on materials.
And let's not forget—Professor Snape occasionally hooks him up with potion ingredients, and Dylan's not above spending some cash to stock up himself.
With all these resources piling up, he can run experiments over and over again.
The latest healing potion he's made with the Obsidian Flowers? It's seriously impressive.
Even if someone's leg gets chopped off, as long as it's been less than 24 hours—one day—you can smear the potion on the stump, bandage the leg back on, and wait an hour. It'll start reattaching.
After that, you just keep applying the potion around the wound, and in a few days, it's mostly connected again.
Of course, "connected" doesn't mean "healed." You'd still need a long recovery period after that.
Since Dylan only recently brewed this batch, he's not sure how long the full healing takes yet.
—There's still a goblin lying in his suitcase he's keeping an eye on.
Still, this is just the first version. As he keeps tweaking it—adjusting the ingredients, swapping stuff out, refining the brewing process—
—Dylan's confident the Obsidian Healing Potion's effects are only going to get stronger!
When that happens, he could team up with big merchants—either selling it himself or supplying the raw materials for them to distribute.
Either way, the Obsidian Healing Potion's key ingredient is the Obsidian Flower.
No flowers, no potion. Doesn't matter how rare the other stuff is—it's useless without them.
"Still, I should probably make the ingredients list a bit more common. If the materials are too pricey, sure, I could jack up the price, but it'd be tough to sell it on a big scale."
Or he could go another route: make a basic version, a mid-tier version, a premium version, a deluxe version, an elite version, a supreme version, an invincible version…
Each one with different effects.
That'd work too.
While flipping through his books, Dylan mulled over the raw materials for the Obsidian Healing Potion.
The more he thought about it, the more his hands itched to dive into his suitcase and start tinkering.
But now wasn't the time, so he stuck to theorizing—could he swap out some ingredients for others to boost the potion's power?
"With the current version, I don't need much Obsidian Flower—just five petals grown from a goblin corpse will do."
—Cockroaches, though? He's got plenty of those.
No big deal.
Other ingredients might vary, but the Obsidian Flowers? He'll never run out of those.
"On top of that, I've only got one Mandrake plant, and it's still a seedling. I can't use too much of it. Once I get more, I could try adding extra Mandrake roots."
Obsidian Flowers and Mandrake roots are must-haves for the potion.
Beyond that, Dylan's tossing in ten grams of pearl powder, three unicorn hairs, five grams of moonstone dust, and half a Dragon's Blood flower.
Dragon's Blood flowers aren't easy to come by either. The ones he's got were a gift from Professor Snape.
Those ingredients? Pretty expensive stuff.
But the Dragon's Blood flower came from Snape, the Mandrake from Neville, the unicorn hair from a unicorn, and the Obsidian Flowers from corpses…
So, really, Dylan hasn't spent much himself.
Still, scaling up the potion, getting it out there, and making it something people actually use? That's a whole hassle.
Especially since this is still a rough draft—he needs to keep refining the formula.
"Man, times like this make me miss technology."
Magic's great and all, but tech's got its perks too.
Like, if he had an AI right now, he could mix magic and science—let the AI figure out potion recipes for him.
"The Red Queen from *Resident Evil* would be dope. Or Jarvis—ugh, not Jax, I mean Jarvis."
The train kept chugging along.
The barren scenery outside slowly gave way to lively towns.
When the train neared King's Cross Station, Dylan closed his book and tucked it away.
"Goblins make decent little test subjects, but they're nowhere near as useful as a wizard. And unlike fairies, these goblins are just too dumb. Even after refining their souls and learning their language, getting them to say anything useful is like asking them what they want for dinner."
Sure, Dylan's got *Legilimency* to peek into their minds.
But they don't even have thoughts—just instincts like "ow," "hungry," "full," "want that," "sleepy," "hungry again…"
It's been slowing down his research big time.
He needs them to tell him how they feel after taking the potion—ideally with some detail.
So, after some back-and-forth, Dylan figured he's gotta grab a few dark wizards.
—Worst case, he'll just take a stroll through Azkaban.
"Good thing the Quidditch World Cup's coming up. Voldemort's loyal Death Eaters should show up there."
It's still a ways off, but his experiments are only in the early stages anyway. He's not desperate for test subjects just yet.
That spell he's working on, though—if he doesn't have decent subjects, he's stuck testing it on the handful of goblins he's got.
Either way, slow progress is still progress.
After getting off the train, Dylan headed straight to Diagon Alley.
If he wants to scope out wizarding real estate, there's no better place to ask around.
Of course, the downside is those sneaky goblins will try every trick in the book to fleece him.
He's saved up a few Galleons lately and hasn't blown through them yet.
His suitcase space isn't huge, but it's enough for now—as long as he's not hauling around massive plants or animals.
Dylan's planning to wait until his parents rake in some big cash again. Then they'll send him a chunk, and he can expand the space.
Lately, he's been sinking too much into that suitcase. He's even skimping on upgrading his spell effects or buying custom robes from Madam Malkin's.
He's got a stash of robes in his inventory but hasn't splurged on tailoring them further.
"For wand effects, I'll just tweak them for my alternate persona later. Something distinctive so people remember it."
As for what kind? Definitely not pink fluffy bunnies.
He already did that with his main identity.
After he switched up the wand effects last time, Hermione even ran over to ask how he changed the spell colors.
Dylan just made up some nonsense and changed the subject.
Thinking of Karthas's bony vibe, Dylan suddenly had a lightbulb moment.
"How about a holy light effect? I'll wave my scepter wand, fire off a (or fifty) *Avada Kedavra* spells, and before the curse even hits, the blinding light explodes and fries their eyes first."
He nodded to himself—perfect fit for his alternate persona.
Strolling into Diagon Alley, Dylan barely stepped inside before an Auror at the entrance gave him a once-over.
He blinked. Which poor sap with no clout got stuck playing security here?
Diagon Alley's really stepped up its game—having Ministry Aurors as doormen now?
He flashed the Auror a grin. Seeing Dylan was just a kid, the guy didn't hassle him—no questions, just waved him through.
—Yep, entering Diagon Alley requires Auror screening these days.
The folks coming in after him got hit with a few questions, though.
Dylan ignored it and headed toward Gringotts.
He's not super short on anything right now, so he's not itching to spend.
After all, 10 Galleons gets him 1 cubic meter of suitcase space.
Saving one Galleon? That's a piece of his world!
And as the space grows, it might seem small now, but it'll hit a point where it suddenly gets massive!
When'll that happen?
Whenever he gets rich, that's when.
At Gringotts' entrance, he walked right in.
Gringotts handles a ton of business. It's the wizarding bank, after all, so loans are part of the gig.
And loans usually tie into houses. That means Gringotts doesn't just hold piles of cash—they've got a grip on plenty of wizard properties too.
If a wizard borrows from Gringotts to buy or sell a house and can't pay up, without some fancy collateral, the house becomes the fallback.
Plus, the wizarding world isn't exactly a peaceful paradise.
Even with Voldemort's era supposedly over and the Ministry back in charge of British wizarding order, fights and killings still happen.
People drop dead quietly in corners all the time.
If those wizards mortgaged their homes to Gringotts beforehand, once they're gone and the magical contract expires, Gringotts just swoops in and claims the property.
Then they slap a "For Sale" sign on it. Sure, the loan money's gone, but at least they're not totally out of pocket.
And when they sell? They tack on an extra "maintenance fee."
The goblins'll say, "Oh, we've been tirelessly maintaining this place to keep it pristine. Want it? Pay the upkeep fee."
Don't want it?
Fine, they don't care. The house just sits there, and Gringotts waits to cash in.
On top of that, some wizards hand over their properties to Gringotts for safekeeping. When those folks die, a good chunk of those homes end up in goblin hands too.
And honestly, Galleons are minted by the goblins themselves. Trading their own stuff for outside goods? They're not really losing anything.
How much gold goes into a Galleon, whether they mix in other metals—it's all up to them.
There's some deep shady stuff there, but Dylan doesn't need to dig too far into it. Once he grows up, the whole world might just be his anyway. It's all his stuff eventually—so who cares whose pocket it's in now?
Inside Gringotts, Dylan didn't bother with the goblin who helped him last time. Instead, he tracked down an older one who specializes in real estate.
—That kind of business isn't trusted to young or green goblins.
—It's free money and commissions, after all.
"Hey there, I heard Gringotts deals with property stuff too. I'm looking to buy a house—do you handle that?"
Dylan stood at a counter, eyeing the old goblin behind it.
The goblin raised an eyebrow. Hearing Dylan's request, a glint of cunning flashed in his eyes before he plastered on a warm, eager smile and paused his scribbling.
Setting down his quill, he didn't stand up. "Oh, you're looking to buy a property? Forgive my bluntness, but that's a big deal. I wouldn't have guessed someone your age was already thinking about this sort of thing."
Dylan could tell the old goblin was sizing up his wallet, but he wasn't surprised.
Goblins are like that.
This one, though, was seasoned enough to know looks can deceive. Instead of doubting him outright, he just probed sideways with a friendly grin, no offense given.
Dylan nodded. "Yeah, last time I was here, I cashed in a few hundred thousand Galleons. Didn't know what to do with it, so I figured I'd check out some houses."
As he spoke, he gave a little wave and a smile to the younger goblin who'd helped him before.
That little goblin had noticed Dylan breeze past him to talk to the older one. His pointy ears twitched, and he bared his teeth, dying to know what Dylan was up to.
But when Dylan waved, he froze, then quickly flashed a fawning grin and bowed slightly.
—Last time, Dylan had tipped him thousands of Galleons! To a goblin, you don't slack on manners with a big spender—can't let wizards think they're a joke.
The old goblin's eyes flicked over, then back. His smile grew even warmer.
"Sir, since you're in the market for property, why don't we chat somewhere more private? This way, please."
Finally lifting his creaky backside off the stool, the old goblin gestured for Dylan to follow.
Dylan nodded and trailed him to a small room.
The air inside smelled faintly of magical ink—not sharp, but mixed with a woody scent that made you relax without thinking.
Once they sat, the old goblin pulled a stack of parchment from a drawer and spread it out in front of Dylan.
As the parchment unrolled on the oak desk, tiny specks of magical dust danced in the orange sunlight.
Dylan glanced down—it was a list of property locations.
"We've got all kinds of houses on hand," the goblin said, clearing his throat. His gnarled fingertip scraped across the map, the sound of his nail on the yellowed parchment like ants chewing through rotten wood.
Pointing to the first map, he said, "This here's a classic English countryside magical cottage, tucked away at the edge of an ancient forest. If you buy it, we'll throw in a pretty powerful magical charm too."
Dylan asked, "What's it do?"
The wall lamp's glow mingled with the sunset streaming through a small window, casting shadows across the goblin's wrinkled, greedy face, every crease glinting with a coppery sheen.
He paused but kept his smile steady. "It keeps Muggles from ever finding your house."
That's it? *Powerful*?
Isn't that just a basic Muggle-Repelling Charm?
Dylan's mouth twitched.
"Plus, we'll toss in a self-cleaning house-elf and a magical garden that changes with the seasons—it's gorgeous, you'll love it."
Dylan nodded. "How much?"
The goblin's grin widened. "Just 90,000 Galleons. Quite a steal."
Dylan didn't react.
A house on the forest edge? How remote is that?
Sounds nice on paper, but it's probably no better than the Weasleys' Burrow.
"Anything else? I'd prefer something livelier—or maybe a manor. I'm not into little magical cottages."
The goblin's eyes lit up. He pulled out another scroll from the pile. "Take a look at this. If you want a manor, this one's perfect."
"It's a mid-sized manor—not too big, not too small. The location's spot-on, right between a magical village and a bustling market. Quiet when you want it, but close enough to dive into the action."
"The grounds are huge—82 acres. Neat lawns, plus a massive Quidditch practice field. The main house has three floors, tons of rooms."
"The basement's been turned into a top-notch potion lab—great lighting and ventilation, perfect for you and your family to tinker with potions in your spare time."
"It's got strong magical defenses too—Muggles can't see it. Safe and private."
"And the price? A bargain at just… 500,000 Galleons!"
The goblin's pitch was detailed, and Dylan liked the sound of the manor.
The price, though?
"*Legilimency*."
The goblin stared at Dylan eagerly. Dylan met his gaze.
In an instant, the old goblin's thoughts spilled open.
"This little human wizard's buying a house on his own? Is he that dumb?"
"He's so young—easy to trick, right?"
"If I can sell this 200,000-Galleon manor for this price, I'll double my cut!"
Dylan smiled but said nothing.
The goblin had no clue his thoughts were laid bare to this "dumb, young, gullible" kid, still grinning like he'd won already.
"If you're worried about loose ends after buying, I assure you—once you pay in full, Gringotts' senior wizards will step in. Every goblin involved in the deal who knows the details will get hit with a hefty Memory Charm."
"Your property deed will be sealed in a crystal orb and stored deep in Gringotts' record hall, guarded by layers of magical barriers."
"As long as the contract's active, no one'll find a trace of this place—like it never existed in the wizarding world."
Translation: if Dylan doesn't fork over a hush fee before the contract expires, word of his purchase will spread like wildfire.
Dylan nodded, then suddenly stood.
"It's a decent place, but I need to think it over. Thanks for your time."
The goblin blinked as Dylan got up. Hearing that, his eager grin froze, then faded to a cold stare.
This damn kid!
Wasting his precious time!
But he was an old pro—cursing Dylan out in his head didn't stop him from playing nice.
"That price is steep, sure. If you're serious, I can pull some strings and get you a discount."
"Cool, I'll think about it."
"…Fair enough."
The goblin walked off without another word.
Dylan didn't care.
He's only got a few thousand Galleons on hand—no way he's buying now.
Unless he uses *Imperius* to clean out the goblin's pockets.
But that'd risk trouble, tying his real identity to Karthas's mess.
No matter what, his true self can't be exposed. He needs a stable cover to keep studying.
—At least until he's raided Hogwarts' library dry.
—And nabbed all the little treasures in the Forbidden Forest too.
"Wait, why does this 'lurk in school, learn everything, then ditch the place that raised me for greener pastures' vibe feel so familiar?"
Dylan wandered off, puzzled for a sec.
But he shrugged it off quick, thinking back to the goblin's pitch.
Gotta admit, that manor was nice. He really liked it.
—Especially the Quidditch field.
It's not massive, but big enough for a small game.
Dylan's no player himself, but if he ever has guests over, it'd be a cool way to entertain.
For now, though, if he bought it, he wouldn't be inviting Harry and the gang over anytime soon.
What he liked most? The manor's got a big standalone garden and veggie patch.
He could set up some weather charms—grow his own food, no shopping needed. Whatever he wants, he plants, and the magic handles the climate.
82 acres—about 300,000 square meters. Minus the Quidditch field's 10,000 square meters (two-ish acres), that's still nearly 80 acres left.
"The original owner's probably long gone, or Gringotts wouldn't be selling a gem like this."
But 200,000 Galleons? Still steep.
That's the goblin's bottom line from the contract—no wiggle room there.
Gringotts lists it at 200,000. Anything extra the goblin gets is his bonus.
Sell it at base price, and he just gets a tiny cut.
"Guess I'll wait 'til that old goblin's off work. He's so keen on me buying—lending me some cash, or rather, lending dear old Karthas some, wouldn't be too much to ask, right?"
Dylan left Gringotts but didn't head out. He started wandering Diagon Alley instead.
Aurors were posted everywhere, but he strolled past like they weren't even there.
—Looks like the Ministry's pissed after he toyed with them twice.
He didn't kill any Aurors, but both times—last one and the one before—those sent to nab him took a beating.
The first wave was small, but the last time? Dozens of Aurors.
The Ministry's not that big.
Dozens moving out isn't "all hands on deck," but it's close.
And he still slipped away, leaving most of them banged up.
Tsk, tsk~
Dylan hit up Flourish and Blotts, grabbed a few books, and subscribed to some newspapers.
Then he swung by material shops, scoping out rare or useful stuff—daily needs or potion ingredients alike.
He ended up with a big haul, all stuffed into his inventory.
Wandering along, he spotted Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour up ahead. It's chilly out, but he didn't mind grabbing some sweets and chatting with Florean about the Ministry's latest.
—Last time, Florean mentioned his daughter's an Auror there now, fresh out of wizarding school.
Dylan didn't catch her name then, though. Might as well ask now and see if it rings a bell.
"Wait, didn't Florean say he was a loner? Where'd this daughter pop up from?"
*Ding-a-ling~*
When Dylan pushed open the shop door, the wind chime at the eaves froze mid-swing, then shivered, letting out a soft, crisp jingle.
He peeked inside—no Florean in sight.
"Huh? Not here?"
His eyes drifted down.
Frost flowers on the counter were creeping along, sketching out Karthas's profile from the Ministry's wanted poster—before a sudden burst of hearth fire melted them into mist.
(End of Chapter)