After returning to the dormitory, Avada first took out the deluxe Wit-Sharpening Potion Baron had given him and drank a small sip. Then he immediately pulled out the massive tome Professor Baker had left behind, grabbed a blank notebook, and began furiously scribbling diagrams and notes.
"Part Three, The Essence of Horcrux Magic… found it—the method for creating a Horcrux!"
"And Part Six, the experimental records left behind by that unknown Dark wizard who simplified Horcrux magic… here!"
He flipped through the pages at high speed, spreading the notebook open on his bed. Grabbing his quill, he practically slid into position and buried his head in writing down his thoughts. Each section of the book was extremely dense, and with six sections already taking up nearly a third of the entire volume, the reading was arduous.
After quite a while—
"It might actually work!"
Avada suddenly looked up—and promptly smashed his head into the bedpost with a dull thunk.
"Hiss… If I use the spell from the Horcrux creation process that transfers the soul into a vessel, then with how pitifully small Voldemort's main soul is, it shouldn't be a problem at all! All I need is a container that's a bit larger and sturdier. And with the mental-force data I have on Voldemort, I wouldn't even need Harry to destroy Quirrell's body—I could forcibly extract his soul directly!"
"But there are still two problems. First, this spell requires preparation time. During that window, Voldemort would still be free to act, and with his absurd ability to escape, even if Dumbledore showed up, there'd be no way to keep him contained…"
"Second, if it's the main soul, even after being sealed into a Horcrux, it can remain conscious and continue influencing magic through mental force—just like last year, when Professor Baker was sealed into a Horcrux and could still speak to the outside and even manipulate spatial magic… If Voldemort, a Dark Magic master who has already created five Horcruxes and understands them inside and out, also possesses this ability, he might be able to break free on his own!"
"In terms of Horcrux knowledge, Dumbledore definitely isn't Voldemort's equal, and I'm still lacking experience myself. That means no one could reliably keep watch over him. And until all his Horcruxes are destroyed, his main soul can't be eliminated outright. Merlin, just the soul fragment inside Harry alone could take who knows how long…"
"I need a way to make his soul—at least his mental force—fall dormant after being sealed into a Horcrux. But magic capable of doing that has never been heard of. If it were that easy to counter, Horcruxes wouldn't be called the pinnacle of Dark Magic. According to the experimental records, even the lowest-quality Horcrux can resist a Dementor's Kiss!"
"This is troublesome…"
Just as he was deep in thought, he suddenly felt heat spreading along his right arm—Voldemort was calling him.
"Why now?"
Frowning, Avada quickly packed away the tome and notebook and headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office on the third floor, knocking on the door.
"Professor, you called for me?"
The moment he opened the door, Avada saw Quirrell wearing a broad, cheerful smile, looking quite pleased. For the sake of convenience, when Voldemort summoned him, he usually didn't use his own appearance, instead manipulating Quirrell's body.
"Have you mastered the Imperius Curse yet?"
He asked in a casual, conversational tone—posing a question that could earn someone a one-way trip to Azkaban.
"Yes. I can cast it stably now, but I can't do it nonverbally yet."
"Show me."
Voldemort flicked his wand, and a Grindylow flew out of Quirrell's teaching equipment storage, floating in front of Avada while brandishing its long, thin claws aggressively.
"Imperio."
As Avada softly incanted the spell, the Grindylow's gaze immediately went slack. A few seconds later, its eyes refocused, now carrying a clarity and rationality utterly unlike that of a beast. It slowly descended to the floor, turned toward Voldemort, and even performed a bow.
In truth, Avada could already cast the Imperius Curse nonverbally. Two months ago, he had personally cast it on a troll, and after observing the exact structure of the magic, his understanding of the curse had skyrocketed. Further advances in his research on mental force had only elevated his skill even more. Now he suspected that even if an Auror stood before him, he could forcibly control them for a short time—normally the benchmark of a veteran Death Eater.
Of course, this level applied only to mental magic. In other areas, his focus on mental-force research had left him somewhat behind.
"Very good."
Voldemort nodded in satisfaction. "With this level of skill, you can begin to participate in some of my plans."
"I can participate in your plans?"
Avada's face lit up with excitement. "Is it to help you obtain the item that will restore your body? Who do I need to control?"
"Not that one. To take part in that, you'd need to grow to at least Quirrell's level."
Voldemort shook his head. To test Avada's progress, he often had Quirrell spar with him in magical offense and defense. Through those sessions, Avada had come to clearly understand the gap between himself and an elite wizard: without exposing his Magical Perception's predictive ability, Quirrell could take him down in under three minutes—and that was while holding back.
"Then I—"
"But you can help me with another important matter."
Voldemort smiled, clearly pleased by Avada's slightly dejected expression. "After some time, I'll take you into the Forbidden Forest. We'll hunt a unicorn together."
"Hunt a unicorn?!"
This time, Avada was genuinely shocked. He couldn't understand why Voldemort would involve him in this. "Do you need materials from a unicorn? But—"
"But unicorn materials aren't hard to obtain. Any apothecary sells unicorn tail hair, and some even sell unicorn horns. That's what you were about to say, right?"
Avada put on an expression of amazement and nodded.
"But what I need isn't those vulgar things…"
Voldemort's smile turned eerie. "What I need is blood—unicorn blood. Something you can't obtain in any shop, not even on the black market."
"Why is that?" Avada asked, curiosity written all over his face.
"For ordinary people, drinking unicorn blood can prolong life, but it also brings severe side effects, cursing the drinker to a half-dead existence… But the great Voldemort doesn't care about such things. Those so-called curses are as insignificant to me as a passing breeze."
Avada nodded inwardly. As a curse master capable of cursing a position for over fifty years—himself included—Voldemort had every right to say that. And in the original events, he had indeed remained lively after drinking unicorn blood, later resurrecting smoothly in Harry's fourth year…
"You need to extend your life?"
Avada asked cautiously. "Are you injured?"
"Ha! How could that be? Who could possibly harm the great Voldemort?"
Voldemort seemed to have completely forgotten how he ended up in this state. "I simply need to recover some strength in advance, to prepare for the final plan."
"When we hunt the unicorn, all you need to do is locate it and use the Imperius Curse to control it—make it obedient, prevent it from struggling or screaming. The act of killing it and drinking the blood will be handled by Quirrell."
"I understand."
Avada nodded firmly. "I'll do it perfectly!"
(End of Chapter)