Dylan gazed at Cedric, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a slight smirk.
"Are you here to ask me about your future?"
Cedric's eyes flickered, his lips pressing together before he gave a small nod.
"Yes."
Dylan chuckled. "The future's always shifting, you know. What makes you think you'd turn into a tree-person? Aren't you a badger at heart?"
Cedric blinked, caught off guard. "You know what I wanted to ask…"
Dylan cut him off. "I do indeed know what's on your mind, but…"
He paused for a moment, letting the silence hang.
"The future can't be pinned down. All I can tell you is this—"
"Life is a fleeting candle, and death is the inevitable breeze that snuffs it out."
"People—well, they always leave this world eventually."
Cedric's face went as pale as a ghost. The ground beneath him suddenly felt soft and unsteady, the whole world lurching before his eyes. He had to reach out and grip the table in front of Dylan to steady himself.
He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat tightened, choking the words before they could form.
Cedric bowed his head, his light golden hair falling messily across his face.
After a long moment, he took a deep breath, steadying his breathing as his trembling body slowly calmed.
Dylan blinked.
This bloke was tougher than he'd expected.
Finally, Cedric lifted his head, a flicker of fear still lingering in his eyes, but he fought to summon a spark of stubbornness and determination. He looked straight at Dylan.
"Can the future really be changed? Is there a chance I won't end up like that—some horrible thing, or have to die?"
He'd heard the rumors from so many people—how the Boggart Dylan had faced turned into a tree-person, and how utterly grotesque and disgusting it was.
It wasn't the idea of becoming ugly that scared him. It was the thought of no longer being human.
He couldn't even imagine what he'd have to encounter in the future to end up as a tree-person.
But even Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher, had praised Dylan to the skies.
And he'd asked the Weasley brothers from Gryffindor.
They'd told him how Dylan, while at their home, had shown an uncanny knack for precise predictions.
Not to mention, Dylan was well-respected by the heads of every house.
His magical talent and strength were undeniable.
—Anyone who could get a kind word from Professor Snape was no slouch.
So, even though Dylan was just a third-year wizard, Cedric found himself trusting him, for reasons he couldn't quite explain.
Dylan nodded. "Of course. The loom of fate never stops weaving, and it reshapes the pattern based on your choices, crafting new and unknown tapestries."
"The future isn't a prophecy carved in stone—it's like sand slipping through your fingers. You can shape your own destiny."
"I… I can shape my own future?" Cedric's brow furrowed slightly.
Professor Trelawney had once made the greatest prophecy of all.
And it had come true.
The Dark Lord would fall at the hands of the Chosen One.
And, true enough, the Dark Lord had been defeated by Harry.
As for how a baby—a mere infant—could bring down a murderous, rule-breaking, unpredictable dark wizard, one whose mere stomp sent shudders through the entire magical world, vanishing without a trace in a single night…
Well, that was a question for "love."
"Maybe some love potion kicked in," Dylan mused to himself.
He shook off the tangle of thoughts in his mind and turned back to Cedric.
"Don't worry. My predictions aren't always spot-on, you know. Maybe that tree-person just looked like you, like I mentioned before."
Cedric took a shaky breath through his nose.
"Really?"
He hesitated, then pressed on. "Whether I end up like that or not, I'll do everything I can to change it."
"But I'd like to know—if the future doesn't change, what about my parents? Will they…?"
Dylan knew exactly what Cedric was getting at.
He shook his head gently.
"Don't worry. Your parents are safe—at least from what I've seen. Of course, you know, if you did end up like that, they'd be heartbroken for you."
Cedric lifted his left hand, covering his face, his thumb and forefinger rubbing gently at his cheeks.
He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
"I know. They've always told me, ever since I was little, that I'm the child they're proud of. I've always tried my best to live up to that."
He wiped his face, his mood lifting a bit.
Though, in doing so, he'd rubbed his cheeks red and made his hair even messier.
"Even though young witches and wizards aren't allowed to roam the outside world right now, you'd better go wash your face," Dylan teased with a grin. "Wouldn'T want anyone seeing you like this when you head back—I'd rather not hear more gossip about you and me."
Cedric's lips quirked upward.
"Sorry about that. And, while I don't approve of young love in principle, if you ever fancied a romance here at school, I could introduce you to some lovely girls. Some of them even have a crush on you, you know."
Dylan raised an eyebrow.
Huh?
Someone had a crush on him?
Who?
Dylan was suddenly curious.
But he wasn't the type to dig too deep.
So, he didn't press Cedric for answers or try to divine it with his foresight. Instead, he just shook his head with a smile.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm with you on that. As students, how can we be thinking about romance at school? I just want to focus on learning magic."
Cedric looked at him with approval. "No wonder the professors all sing your praises. That attitude alone is worth commending."
Cedric didn't beg Dylan to divine again, to tell him what changes he'd need to make to avoid that terrifying future.
In his mind, peering into the river of time couldn't be an easy task.
And helping someone alter their fate? That was even harder.
Cedric didn't want Dylan to pay a price for it.
For one, he couldn't bear the cost.
For another, he didn't want to trouble Dylan too much.
"Thank you for telling me all this. This trip wasn't a waste."
Cedric gave Dylan a small bow. "I'll leave you be for now."
Dylan nodded. "I don't mind you dropping by. If you've got more questions, feel free to come chat again. But don't worry—I don't think you'll end up looking like that."
—Truth be told, Dylan had made the Boggart take that form on purpose, to keep it from revealing certain things about him.
So, he wasn't wrong. Cedric wouldn't turn into a tree-person.
He'd just… die in the future.
But Dylan was counting on Cedric joining the Ministry of Magic and becoming a trusted ally, helping him with tasks both aboveboard and under the table.
With his identity as Karthas, one day, he'd unite the wizarding world!
"Hmm… uniting the wizarding world just means getting everyone to work for me, right? No harm in that, is there?"
There were plenty of capitalists out there already—what was one more?
—And no one could string him up on a lamppost for it!
"Thanks. I might come back in a few days, once I've sorted my feelings. Hope I don't annoy you too much then."
"Whenever you like."
After Cedric left, Dylan turned back to the book in front of him.
"That fool Voldemort only thought about wiping out his enemies. If he'd tried to win everyone over with love, he'd have united the wizarding world ages ago."
People create value.
If you kill everyone off, what's the point of uniting the wizarding world—or even the whole world?
Making everyone bow to him, only to have no one left to bow? What kind of nonsense was that?
—"Though, to be fair, Voldemort did seem a bit like a ghost himself. Kill everyone, turn them into spirits, then make them submit. With that lunatic's logic, it almost makes sense."
Dylan hadn't originally had any grand plans to unite the world.
Even now, the idea didn't excite him all that much.
For now, he just wanted to soak up as much knowledge as he could, to master magic.
If one day he grasped most of the world's knowledge, like Voldemort had with dark magic, perhaps his ambitions would grow with his power.
But even then, he'd only want others to work for him.
To earn Galleons, to gather materials for experiments.
To fuel one complex experiment after another.
"On the path to mastering magic, I've only just begun. There's still so much to do."
Dylan flipped through his book.
He'd just pushed thoughts of Cedric aside when another image flashed into his mind—
A white-haired, long-bearded old man, tumbling from a high tower.
Dylan's hand paused on the page.
"Hmm… I could pull Sirius into my world to work for me before he dies, but if old Dumbledore's set on getting himself killed, I can't exactly drag him into my world too, can I?"
With Dumbledore around, would the old man try to take over his world?
Dylan wasn't sure.
But even if Dumbledore was bent on dying, that was a problem for later.
And Dumbledore's reasons for wanting to die? One was to protect Harry, another was to ensure Snape regained Voldemort's full trust.
And there was something else.
While hunting Horcruxes, Dumbledore had worn a cursed ring, gravely injuring himself and leaving him with little time left.
Realizing his days were numbered, he'd chosen to end his life this way, using his death to shift the tide of the battle toward justice.
But as for little Voldy…
Dylan already had a piece of his soul locked away in his world.
What kind of waves could Voldemort still make? Truth be told, Dylan was rather looking forward to finding out.
He wanted to see, with a soul split into so many pieces, a mind twisted and spiraling into madness, how Voldemort's use and understanding of dark magic would differ from young Tom Riddle's.
—It was one of the experiments he'd always wanted to try.
Dylan had tapped into Voldemort's skill set before, but learning spells and truly understanding magic were two different things.
"When that time comes, maybe Dumbledore's sacrifice won't be about earning Snape Voldemort's trust, but about getting Snape close to Karthas, to win my trust."
Dylan smacked his lips.
After lingering in the library until evening, Dylan headed to the Owlery.
He fed some meat strips to Luna, his owl, and a few to Luna's Niffler, Haze, as well.
"Hoo-hoo—"
Luna's brown owl hooted cheerfully, then shared one of the strips Dylan had given him with Luna.
Dylan watched his snowy owl getting along so well with Luna's Niffler, and his eyes narrowed.
"You little rascal…"
Dylan wouldn't stand in the way of "love" between pets.
—If that's what it was.
And he didn't often use owls for letters anyway.
Especially after he'd tipped off Ron's dad, Arthur Weasley, on how to make a magical telephone.
If something came up, he'd just call his mum and dad.
Sending letters was a bit of a hassle.
And in terms of timing…
Even though the owls of the wizarding world were specially trained, they were still non-magical creatures at heart.
So, while they could deliver letters with precision, there was always a delay before the message arrived.
A phone call was far more convenient.
After feeding the owls, Dylan grabbed some dinner, then headed back to his dormitory.
The very next evening, after Cedric's visit, Dylan ran into him again in the corridor.
Dylan had only meant to say hello, but Cedric pulled him aside to a corner and asked a few more scattered questions.
This time, it was mostly about his parents.
He didn't want to trouble Dylan with his own safety.
But when it came to his parents' safety, he couldn't help but ask a bit more.
Dylan, of course, rattled off a trio of reassurances—don't worry, it'll be fine, everything's okay—and brushed it off.
Cedric, relieved by the comforting answers, left with a lighter heart.
Over the next few days, whenever Cedric and Dylan crossed paths, they'd exchange a greeting, growing as familiar as good friends.
But really, they just interacted a bit more than usual.
Dylan figured it was like his bond with Luna.
Classmates, friends you could chat with.
And since Dylan had plans to recruit Cedric as one of his allies, he certainly didn't mind getting closer to him.
This shift didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the school.
Until the weekend…
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