"How's that, pretty impressive, huh?"
Dylan eyed the Horcrux Ravenclaw's Diadem version of Riddle.
The figure before him looked dazed, his expression blank, completely stripped of the arrogance he'd shown earlier.
"Not talking? Guess you haven't seen enough yet." Dylan narrowed his eyes.
At that moment, Diadem Riddle finally snapped out of it, shaking his head frantically.
"Enough, enough…"
He swallowed hard—though, being a Horcrux, he didn't actually have saliva to swallow.
Diadem Riddle looked up, his eyes wide with shock.
"What kind of magic was that? It's downright sinister… those eyes! One glance, and my mind started to unravel. If I kept staring, I'd probably end up a complete idiot!"
Dylan smirked.
This guy's senses were sharper than the Diary Riddle's.
"Just a little trick I cooked up. What, you wanna learn it?"
Diadem Riddle froze.
A little trick?
You call that—a scene straight out of some legendary demon's arrival—a little trick?
That was more twisted than an Unforgivable Curse!
Just being stared at by those eyes felt like his soul was disintegrating.
If this dark wizard wanted, Riddle might've sunk into that misty abyss, becoming one of those eyes himself!
Even a Horcrux couldn't save him!
Deep down, Diadem Riddle knew a Horcrux could keep him from dying, but it didn't make him invincible.
Horcruxes could still be destroyed.
Destroying one, though, was no small feat. It required something like fully matured Fiendfyre or the venom of a creature like a Basilisk.
But this dark wizard? He didn't need any of that.
All he did was open his eyes, and those eerie eyeballs swirling around him seemed capable of obliterating a Horcrux from the inside out!
Those damn ugly, stupid eyeballs!
And yet—he'd never seen or learned anything like it!
If he had a spell like that, he'd have united the entire wizarding world in half the time!
And this guy had the nerve to call it a "little trick"?
What a load of rubbish!
Who did he think he was fooling?
But then, Diadem Riddle's thoughts shifted.
He'd studied countless dark magics and never heard of a spell like this.
It was either ancient beyond record or something this guy invented himself. Otherwise, how could Riddle not have even heard of it?
This wizard… he wasn't ordinary.
Riddle had been hiding in the Diadem, listening to Diary Riddle ramble on endlessly, and he'd scoffed at the time.
He'd seen the Diary get tortured.
Big deal—Riddle had mastered tormenting others centuries ago!
Only now, those same techniques were being used on him.
And he had to admit, Diary Riddle might've been onto something.
This wizard wasn't just powerful; his methods were endlessly creative, wielding terrifying strength. And this world they were in? It might not even be the wizarding world anymore!
That realization made Diadem Riddle furious.
Why?!
How could a Hogwarts student have power that rivaled what he might've achieved at his peak?
Diadem Riddle lowered his eyes, sneaking a glance at Dylan.
This guy was just a student.
Yet the tricks he'd already shown were beyond Riddle's comprehension.
If he'd had that kind of power as a student…
He'd have the whole world in his grasp by now!
And another thing…
How was this guy's dark magic so refined, yet his appearance untouched by it?
Riddle didn't care about looks—handsome or ugly, it was irrelevant!
Power was all that mattered!
He'd gladly sacrificed his appearance for strength.
He didn't care!
But "not caring" was always relative.
Diadem Riddle saw how Dylan's dark magic surpassed even his own at his peak.
Yet back in his prime, Riddle's appearance had already warped dramatically.
So why did this guy show no signs of dark magic's toll?
Look at that face—still so smooth and handsome.
Look at those features—rivaling Riddle's own schoolboy charm.
Sure, Diadem Riddle's current form hadn't changed much either.
But he remembered what he looked like before he hid himself away.
He wouldn't call that look "ugly"—by his standards, it just showed how powerful he'd become.
But Dylan? He shattered Riddle's entire understanding of dark magic.
A person.
With that level of dark magic.
And no physical changes whatsoever.
That wasn't right!
It shouldn't be possible!
Diadem Riddle gritted his teeth.
Only now was he recovering from the shock of what he'd just witnessed.
He looked up at Dylan.
"What do you want from me? You haven't destroyed me—or him. You don't actually want to destroy us, do you?"
Dylan studied Diadem Riddle's weakened expression and nodded.
"Exactly. Until I find more Horcruxes, you two are valuable assets. I won't destroy you lightly."
Assets?
Diadem Riddle almost laughed in outrage.
He, reduced to someone else's property?
But then he thought again.
He'd seen Rowena Ravenclaw.
He didn't know how this dark wizard had such powerful dark magic, terrifying strength, a world separate from the wizarding one, and could even dig up a long-dead woman, revive her, and enslave her.
Why hadn't he had those kinds of resources back then?!
But fine, he didn't.
If even Ravenclaw was this guy's slave, being his "property" didn't seem that bad by comparison.
Maybe Riddle's mind was already warped by dark magic.
He hadn't even considered:
Ravenclaw could come and go freely in this place.
But he and the Diary?
Trapped here, their physical forms stuck on a table, unable to move.
No chance of revival.
Endlessly subjected to this guy's whims, tortured whenever he felt like it.
Forever…
Trapped as part of someone else's "wealth."
And as time passed, with this guy collecting more and more, they might just fade into obscurity, tossed into some dusty cupboard.
Never to see the light of day again, or worse, destroyed like garbage…
"What I need from you is simple," Dylan said. "Tell me the spells you know, the knowledge you have."
"Sit there every day, like him, and write it all out. If it's good enough, I won't torment you daily."
"Honestly, I don't enjoy torturing people. It's exhausting."
Dylan shook his head.
Diadem Riddle blinked.
"That's it?"
As he asked, Diary Riddle, still reeling from the eldritch horror of those eyes, twitched his lips. His expression was subtle, but he quickly lowered his head.
How could he be so naive?
Was this soul fragment even real?
Dylan's lips curled into a smile.
"Yup, that simple. So, you still wanna hide in that Diadem and play tough?"
"You know, if I really wanted to hurt you, a tiny crack in the Diadem would do it. A bit of life force, and it'd be fixed."
"But if you push me, I promise the pain you'll feel will be a thousand times worse than now."
Dylan's tone was slow, deliberate, and heavy with menace.
Diadem Riddle fell silent, then nodded.
"Fine. You found me. Sharing some knowledge is a fair trade."
Fair?
Diary Riddle kept his head down, glancing at his future self.
Was his brain smoothed out by dark magic?
Fair?
They'd been kidnapped by this guy!
Beaten and humiliated daily, stripped of all dignity!
Whenever he had some wild, risky experiment, they were the guinea pigs!
They were nearly indestructible, after all!
A bit of life force, and they'd be patched right up!
Did this future self really think this guy would let them sit around like retired professors, jotting down knowledge?
What a load of nonsense!
That mouth was spewing absolute garbage!
Their knowledge was finite.
And this guy's own knowledge was vast.
If they wrote something he already knew, it'd be deemed "subpar."
Then came the excruciating pain!
Diary Riddle stood there, head bowed, seething but silent, playing the ostrich.
At least now, with the Diadem taking some of the heat, things might get easier.
Let him believe it.
Let him think this dark wizard wouldn't torment them so easily.
Seeing Diadem Riddle agree so readily, Dylan's smile widened.
"Great. That's it for today. Starting tomorrow, I expect a report every day. Ravenclaw will collect them."
Dylan stood.
"I trust you're smart enough to know—don't try escaping through Ravenclaw. You can try, but the consequences are on you."
Dylan tossed out a polite threat, then turned and left the hut.
Outside, Norbert flew over, hovering near Dylan and lowering its head.
Dylan chuckled, patting its big head.
This guy was getting tall.
If Norbert didn't bend down, Dylan would've had to stretch to reach.
But Norbert was clever, making sure its master didn't have to tip-toe and lose his cool.
So young, yet already so savvy.
Definitely a promising one.
"Good boy. Next time, I'll take you to see Hagrid."
"Roar, roar!"
Norbert let out a couple of excited cries, then flew off.
Crookshanks, meanwhile, padded up and climbed onto Dylan's shoulder.
"What, wanna come with?" Dylan scratched its chin with a finger.
Crookshanks purred contentedly,
"Mrow~ mow~"
"Alright, let's go."
Dylan grinned, snapping his fingers.
A moment later, Ravenclaw appeared nearby.
Startled at being summoned, she noticed Dylan and asked softly, "Any instructions?"
"Not really instructions." Dylan waved a hand. "Same as before—collect their parchment every day and organize it."
"With your knowledge, Headmistress, I'm sure you can tell if they're holding back or fudging anything."
Ravenclaw nodded gently. "Understood. Anything else I should watch for?"
Dylan shook his head slightly. "You can try helping Lockhart regain his memory now and then, but don't stress about it. If it doesn't work, no big deal."
"That's not a priority. What matters is, don't forget to feed these little cuties."
Dylan glanced at Norbert, chomping away at a pile of food in the distance.
The Basilisk nearby was hesitant, eyeing the food but not daring to move.
It waited until Norbert was done before cautiously slithering forward to eat.
Ravenclaw nodded again.
With Crookshanks in tow, Dylan vanished from the suitcase space with a flash.
Back outside, he spotted Harry, grinning ear to ear.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. "What's got you so happy?"
Harry pulled a broomstick from his bag.
Not the one Dylan had given him.
"Professor McGonagall gave me my broom back! Finally!"
"Oh, nice. Looks like you'll be riding the top-of-the-line broom for the match."
Harry paused, checking Dylan's expression. Seeing no sign of annoyance, he relaxed and added, "Dylan, I'll still cherish and use the broom you gave me."
Dylan blinked, then burst out laughing.
"It's just a broom, mate. No big deal. Next year, when the new model's out, I'll get you another."
Harry squirmed a bit. "Isn't that a bit… extravagant?"
Dylan grinned wide. "Don't worry about it. That kind of money's nothing to me."
Nothing?
Harry blinked.
Dylan seemed way more loaded now. He used to give off this broke vibe.
As they chatted, Ron walked in, his face dark and stormy.
Harry, who hadn't come back with Ron from the Quidditch pitch, noticed his mood and asked, "Ron, what's wrong? You look really upset."
Ron muttered glumly, "Scabbers is gone!"