Chapter 125: Souls and Spells
The borrowing time for the Restricted Section, even with a professor's signature, was usually shortened considerably.
While it wasn't as short as a day or two before the books had to be returned, a seven-day borrowing period was considered a middle ground.
And now, Madam Pince had actually secured him a seven-day borrowing privilege, so Dylan naturally had to express his gratitude.
"I'll go read now, Madam Pince," Dylan nodded, just as the morning light pierced through the window, casting the shadow of his eyelashes onto his cheek.
Since there was still some time before lunch, Dylan didn't rush to leave but found an empty seat to sit down.
He first took the book A Comprehensive Understanding of the Soul and Forbidden Manipulation and began to read it carefully.
The soul was always an extremely mysterious thing. The Killing Curse seemed to be just a killing curse, but killing also meant slaughtering the soul.
Dylan, who mastered the Killing Curse at its highest level, naturally knew the principle behind this spell's killing.
After being struck by the Avada Kedavra curse, the connection between the target's soul and body would be directly and completely severed. The soul would immediately leave the body, and if there was no possibility of it remaining in a ghostly form, the body would also die instantly.
However, the world of Harry Potter was inherently an idealistic world, and even the strength of magic couldn't compare to the power of emotion.
Malice, kindness, sacrifice, love—all kinds of emotions could manifest as visible power.
So, to some extent, the Dementors that consumed happiness could also be seen as monsters manifested from depression.
It was precisely for this reason that Lily's sacrifice and Harry's final voluntary death could protect those who were shielded from harm.
Death was the other side of the veil, and love was the unknown door within the scorching heat.
The strength of magic actually relied more on "spiritual power."
For example, Riddikulus relied on humor and imagination.
The Patronus Charm relied on happiness.
Divination required less stable emotions.
—Hermione had no talent for Divination precisely because, although her learning talent was good, she was too rigid and couldn't understand the mysteries of language and hints.
The Unforgivable Curses were the same. To use them, one still needed to mobilize the emotion itself.
For example, to truly mobilize the power of the Unforgivable Curses, the caster needed to maintain genuine and intense malice.
If one couldn't possess a strong, unconscionable desire to kill in their subjective will, Avada Kedavra would also be difficult to inflict real harm on others.
Avada Kedavra was inherently evil not in its action and consequences, but in the state of the caster.
However, Dylan had the rewards of the achievement system, so he could ignore emotions and directly use spells to achieve his desired level.
Even the strength of the spell could be controlled by him.
If Dylan himself intended to kill someone, then using Avada Kedavra directly would definitely kill the other person.
But if he didn't really intend to kill the person, the Avada Kedavra he used might just give them a nosebleed for a few days.
Of course, the degree could be adjusted by him at will, but other wizards could only rely purely on their own emotions.
However, in Dylan's research on spells, he also found that even if a person truly possessed malice, this malice wasn't necessarily bad.
The so-called love turns to hate.
The malice a person showed might also be more out of guilt.
So human emotions, it had to be said, were truly an extremely complex thing.
And starting from emotions, Dylan would naturally think about the relationship between the soul and emotions.
Even using Avada Kedavra to kill, using emotion to kill the body, the soul could still go to the next place.
And was the soul supported by emotions, or did it have other powers?
"In fact, if emotions are also the supporting carrier of the soul, then perhaps the most terrifying curse isn't the Killing Curse, but rather the Obliviation Charm."
"Or, are memory and emotion separate? Even without memory, is emotion still imprinted on the soul?"
Dylan didn't find the true answer to this question in this book on soul comprehension, but he gained further understanding of the human soul.
The first point that must be clear was that the soul and the body must be separable.
Just as the Killing Curse would directly sever the connection between the soul and the body, causing the body to die.
Dementors could also take away a person's soul, allowing the body to continue to live.
"Spiritual Severance can only banish ghosts, including the non-existent, but it cannot truly affect the most essential things in the soul. What exactly is in a person's soul?"
This school year, the danger at Hogwarts would come from a basilisk.
—As for the diary and Voldemort, Dylan was still eagerly waiting for them to appear.
Little Voldy had better recover some strength before coming out, otherwise his experiments wouldn't be easy to continue.
And the basilisk itself possessed the ability of a deadly gaze, which could instantly petrify anyone who looked it in the eye—this was an immediate effect.
Dylan suspected that the Killing Curse researched by little Voldy must have also been inspired by the basilisk.
After studying for most of the morning, Dylan's stomach rumbled.
"It's time to eat."
Dylan closed the book, packed his things, left the library, and headed towards the Great Hall.
He was halfway there, turning a corner, when Dylan immediately saw Neville ahead.
However, this time Neville wasn't being harassed by Malfoy, but was instead blocked by a small boy.
The small boy also had a camera hanging around his neck. When Dylan walked over, he heard the two of them talking about Harry Potter.
It seemed the small boy was looking for Harry.
Dylan glanced at the photo in the boy's hand—Harry's fleeing back was on it.
Dylan blinked and reminded, "Harry was dragged off to training early this morning. I bet he's still at the Quidditch pitch."
Neville smiled憨厚ly when he saw Dylan approaching, then nodded. "Given Wood's style, they might still be training now."
"Wow! Gosh, Quidditch? Potter's so cool!"
Dylan added, "If you go over now, you might even see the Double Hanging Offensive Maneuver that Wood invented."
Colin grinned foolishly, thanked Dylan and Neville, then turned around and dashed out of the corridor like a whirlwind, running towards the pitch.
Neville was a little confused. "Did he eat?"
Dylan shrugged. "Who knows? Let's go eat, I'm already starving."
Neville hesitated, shuffling his feet to keep up with Dylan. "Harry said last time that this guy was really bothering him. Isn't it bad that we directly told him where Harry is?"
Dylan waved his hand. "It's okay. The clamor of slander and the applause of praise will always come along the path of life. Let Harry get used to it himself. He's got a lot more to endure in the future."
Neville was stunned again. "Dylan, I've noticed that besides saying things even more vicious than Slytherins, you can also always make so many philosophical remarks."
Dylan glanced at him sideways. "When have I ever said anything vicious? I've always been the kindest and most sincere person. Every word I say comes from the bottom of my heart."
"Really just saying the vicious things you think straight out?"
"If that's how you want to understand it, then okay."
The two chatted and laughed, arriving at the Great Hall. They had eaten halfway through their meal when Harry and the others ran over.
After saying hello, Dylan finished his meal on his own and didn't leave with Neville. Instead, he planned to go back and rest for a while at noon.
It was on the way that Dylan encountered an accident.
"Sigh, if only I could study while resting."
The moment this thought popped into Dylan's head.
Suddenly, he saw the old oil painting on the stone wall of the corridor, which depicted an ancient magical forest, as if the forest had come to life.
The patterns of the fir trees flowed with an emerald green halo, and the mist billowed and surged.
The stone wall gradually deformed around the oil painting, and before long, a doorway appeared.
Dylan was stunned. "This... is the sixth floor, right?"
He looked around, seeing no one appear. After hesitating for a moment, he stepped inside.
After he entered the room, the entrance quietly closed.
Inside, a warm yellow halo poured out from a crystal ball suspended in mid-air.
Underfoot was a thick, plush carpet that felt soft to the touch.
In the very center of the room was an extremely large recliner, its frame made of soft leather and piled with cushions.
Above the recliner, an exquisite brass rack hung suspended, angled just right to hold a book steadily in front of someone lying on the recliner.
Dylan took a deep breath. The faint scent of lavender mixed with the smell of paper entered his nostrils, and a sense of peace arose spontaneously, his mind uncontrollably relaxing.
"Why is the entrance to the Room of Requirement also here? Shouldn't it be on the eighth floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls?"
Dylan narrowed his eyes slightly, looked around, and with a flick of his wand, a probing spell quickly flowed through the entire room.
Until the magic receded, he didn't detect anyone else.
After hesitating for a moment, Dylan looked down at the thick carpet, then took off his shoes. His toes immediately sank into it, a tingly, numb comfort spreading through him.
Dylan walked to the recliner, slowly sat down, shifted his limbs, and lay down.
As soon as he lay down, the leather recliner slightly indented to fit the curves of his body, and the cushions automatically deformed to create a curve that fit his spine.
—It was as precise as if it had been custom-made for him.
Dylan stretched.
"This is really comfortable."
After lying down, Dylan couldn't help but think.
He hadn't even gone to the eighth floor, yet he had encountered the entrance to the Room of Requirement here.
Could it be that his desire to rest and study at the same time just now was too strong, and it even caused the entrance to the Room of Requirement to change?
"I shouldn't be that lazy, right?"
Dylan shook his head. "Maybe there are several entrances here, or the one on the eighth floor is fixed, while other entrances might appear randomly in other places."
In fact, Dylan believed that the entire Hogwarts might be a living castle.
And the Room of Requirement, as a hidden existence within Hogwarts, having a few more entrances didn't seem too difficult to understand.
Dylan noticed the brass rack above his head. After comparing it, he found that the rack could perfectly hold a book.
His eyes lit up, and he hung a book on it.
"But I still have to turn the pages myself."
Swish~
The moment Dylan's thought fell, the brass rack slowly extended two delicate mechanical clamps, which looked like the beaks of mechanical ravens.
These clamps seemed to move according to Dylan's will. When Dylan wanted to see the next page, the clamps would grip the page, lift it slightly, and the page would turn lightly.
Dylan's eyes shone even brighter.
"This is so user-friendly?"
Was this being too accommodating?
Dylan lay on the recliner and began to read the three books he had brought from the Restricted Section.
"I didn't expect reading could be so comfortable. If I had known, I would have come here to study last semester!"
Dylan somewhat regretted not experimenting with the wonders of the Room of Requirement in his first year.
But his focus in the first year was mainly shuttling between the professors' offices, or scavenging herbs in the Forbidden Forest, so he didn't have time to come here.
Even now, he didn't have much time to stay here. After resting for a bit, he had Professor Snape's private tutoring in the afternoon.
"Anyway, I'd just be lying down in the dormitory. I'm lying down here too, and it's even more comfortable."
Dylan's thoughts just ran through his head, and then he obediently settled down.
Next, the Room of Requirement, according to Dylan's needs, repeatedly provided him with more help.
Dylan only needed to lie on the recliner and reach out his hand, and whatever he wanted would directly come to him.
"Hmm, if only my suitcase could be like the Room of Requirement."
That way, his usual magical experiments would definitely be more convenient and easier.
Of course, to some extent, his suitcase could indeed provide whatever he required—as long as he had enough Galleons.
Leisure time passed quickly.
Dylan looked at the time; it was getting late.
He should set off for Professor Snape's office.
Otherwise, if he was late, even by a second, or even if he arrived right on time, he would definitely earn the old bat's sarcastic remarks.
"How can lying down be so comfortable? Can I use this technology to research how to manufacture Muggle items? I think it would sell like crazy."
Dylan's mind was now focused on learning magic and knowledge, while occasionally a thought would pop up about how to help his parents earn more money.
After leaving the Room of Requirement.
Dylan glanced back at the oil painting on the wall and paused slightly.
"Next time, I'll try another place to see if I can trigger the entrance to the Room of Requirement."
Dylan walked downstairs. When he reached the fourth floor, his boot heel slipped as it scraped over some suspicious sticky residue—this immediately put him on alert, and he pressed his hand on the wand at his waist.
Hasty footsteps came from around the corner. Dylan immediately saw Harry dragging Ron's arm as they came from the direction of Professor Flitwick's office.
"Hey, good afternoon—"
Before Dylan could finish speaking, Ron's face turned a strange greenish-blue, looking as if he had swallowed ten swamp toads whole.
"Ugh—" He hunched over, suddenly convulsing, his Adam's apple bobbing violently as he spewed out a living thing covered in mucus.
The palm-sized, pearly, wriggling, disgusting slug landed on the stone floor with a "splat."
Its translucent body gleamed under the candlelight, and the silvery threads of mucus it trailed trembled and snapped in the air.
Dylan's eyelids twitched. He could even smell the sour, fishy odor in the air and see the secretions oozing from the dense pores on the slug's surface.
The arm he had just extended, ready to wave at them, silently retracted, and he took a step back.
Ron opened his mouth towards him again.
"Not again?!"
(End of chapter)
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