The Three Broomsticks Pub.
A disheveled young man entered, glanced around, and made his way to a table tucked inside the pub. Another young man was already seated there, slightly plump with a friendly smile that made him seem approachable.
The plump young man looked at the disheveled youth sitting across from him and said, "Want to buy some Serpent-Bird eggs?"
"I prefer Troll dances."
At those words, the plump young man lowered his head respectfully and whispered, "At last, I meet you, Master."
The disheveled youth—or rather, Sean, disguised with Polyjuice Potion—looked at the similarly disguised Marwood across from him. Sean spoke, "How's the task I gave you coming along?"
"I've gathered a team of eleven, but they've never witnessed your greatness, so…"
Marwood trailed off. The group he'd assembled had rallied around the name of the Dark Lord, but without seeing the Dark Lord himself or proof of his power, they weren't exactly following Marwood's orders. These were unruly dark wizards, drawn together not by loyalty but by the promise of profit or power. Many still longed for the days when the Dark Lord's followers ran rampant, and the wizards Marwood had gathered were of that sort.
"They'll see my greatness in time. No need to rush…"
"You're right, great Master."
Sean nodded. He hadn't expected much from Marwood's recruitment efforts, so there was no disappointment. The task was mainly to keep Marwood occupied and handle things outside Hogwarts that Sean couldn't manage himself.
Looking at Marwood, Sean instructed, "Marwood, I need you to gather some items for me. The details are on this parchment. Be discreet. I'll meet you here next week at this time, and I expect you to have everything ready."
Sean handed Marwood the parchment listing his requirements, gave him a pointed look, and left the Three Broomsticks. He didn't head to the Shrieking Shack but instead walked toward the wooded hills on the other side of Hogsmeade.
Standing on a rocky clearing halfway up the hill, where a large stone prevented trees from growing, Sean turned toward the path he'd taken and said calmly, "Come out. Your Disillusionment Charm is pathetic."
Like ripples in water, a middle-aged wizard appeared a short distance away.
Sean studied him. The man had greasy, unkempt hair hanging on either side of his face, a monocle, and tattered, dirty clothes—a typical down-and-out dark wizard. This was how many of them looked these days.
"I saw Marwood buying Polyjuice Potion earlier and wondered what he was plotting," the wizard said. "Didn't expect him to be meeting you. So, who are you? Another servant of the Dark Lord? Or are you and Marwood just frauds using his name to scam us?"
Sean assessed the wizard. He wasn't particularly powerful, but dark wizards like him often knew obscure curses that could catch you off guard. To avoid any surprises, Sean had already released dark smoke, which crept along the ground from his feet, blending into the rocky terrain and slowly encircling the wizard.
By the time the wizard finished speaking, Sean's smoke covered the ground around them. Without wasting words, Sean willed the smoke to rise, forming shadowy arms that lunged toward the wizard.
"What in blazes is this?!"
The wizard drew his wand, frantically casting spells to fend off the smoky arms. Sean, meanwhile, gathered the dark smoke around himself, shaping it into the Dark Lord's likeness. A flowing black robe of smoke gave him the aura of a descending dark king.
Seeing Sean's transformation, the wizard's face betrayed a flicker of fear. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late.
Countless smoky arms surged toward him, and though he kept swinging his wand to dispel them, Sean raised a hand. His wand appeared in the smoke-formed figure's grip, and he fired a Disarming Charm at the wizard.
A red flash shot out. The wizard, preoccupied with the smoky arms, couldn't react in time. The charm hit him square in the chest, sending him flying backward into a tree. His wand arced through the air and landed in Sean's hand.
[Duel Victory: Randomly extracting one ability from the opponent.]
[Extracting…]
[Extraction complete: Limb-Twist Curse LV1]
The system prompt confirmed Sean's suspicions. This wizard's skill was barely above a fourth- or fifth-year Hogwarts student. Likely not a Hogwarts graduate, he was probably trained through family or apprenticeship. The Limb-Twist Curse was a standard dark spell, causing a targeted limb to twist painfully. Sean noted its potential for… creative applications but didn't dwell on it.
He approached the dazed wizard, raised his wand without hesitation, and cast the Imperius Curse.
"Imperio!"
A greenish light flared, and Sean tossed the wizard's wand back to him. The man picked it up and stood, now under Sean's control.
When Marwood, waiting outside the woods, saw Sean emerge with the subdued wizard trailing behind, he wasn't surprised. In his mind, his Master could accomplish anything. A minor dark wizard like this? A mere flick of the Master's hand was enough.