Harry Potter: Wizards Supersmacy

Chapter -25. 

Quirell expertly guided Brian through the thick woods, where the landscape was intricate and easy to lose one's way. 

In the shadows cast by the trees, odd and unusual creatures occasionally raced by, barely discernible. 

They delved deeper into the Forbidden Forest, where the gnarled shadows of the trees resembled demons stretching out their limbs, and long howls resonated through the trees, sending chills down their spines. 

After what felt like hours of wandering, by midnight, they still hadn't caught a glimpse of the unicorn. 

"What am I really hoping for?" Brian chuckled at himself. "I'm not that different from Quirell after all." 

Just then, Quirell came to a sudden halt. Following his gaze, Brian caught sight of a splendid white figure. 

It was breathtakingly beautiful, completely snow-white and faintly glowing like a pearl. It resembled a horse, with elongated limbs and a flowing white mane. The spiral horn on its forehead marked its identity. 

A unicorn. 

Such a magnificent and pure being—it felt unbearable to think about tainting its innocence. 

The unicorn was casually bending down to drink from a pool, swaying its pristine tail. 

Quirell released Brian, who hurried forward, wand in hand. 

The unicorn sensed the looming threat. With a powerful push from its strong legs, it transformed into a flash of white and darted away with astonishing speed. 

Quirell lifted off the ground like a bat, pursuing the unicorn like a ghost, gradually fading into the distance. 

Brian quietly watched the scene unfold, pulling out his invisibility cloak from his pocket and wrapping it around himself. 

He hurried in the same direction. 

By the time he arrived, everything was eerily still. The unicorn lay quietly on the ground, its body glimmering, surrounded by patches of shimmering silver-blue blood. It was lifeless. 

What a beautiful yet tragic sight. 

Quirell was panting, leaning over the unicorn's body, bringing his lips close to its silvery blood. 

"The moment its blood touches your lips, you will be forever cursed, becoming something like a half-dead being," Brian said flatly, his voice echoing eerily in the dark forest. 

"Have you thought this through, Professor Quirell?" 

"I must do this for my master, Walker," Quirell replied, his voice slightly strained. 

He pressed his lips against the unicorn's wound, eagerly drinking its blood. 

Brian stood quietly in the shadows, his gaze indifferent as he bore witness to the scene. 

Time seemed to stretch on, yet it felt like just a fleeting moment. 

Quirell finished drinking, emitting a low howl that blended ecstasy and pain. Then he stood up. 

He wiped the silver-blue blood from the corner of his mouth, softly proclaiming, "I feel so much better, Walker. It's like I've been reborn." 

His face appeared ghostly pale in the night air. 

Brian nodded slightly, turning his gaze away from the tragic sight of the unicorn. 

The two continued on in silence toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest. 

Ahead, the thick grass rustled, and a large silver wolf bounded out, growling softly, its eyes shimmering with a greenish glow. 

It growled once, shifted slightly, and lunged at Brian like a flash of silver. 

It seemed to know who was easier to provoke. 

"Avada Kedavra!" 

Quirell intoned coldly. 

The bright green light hit the wolf, which fell from mid-air, lifeless. 

"Walker, do you know this spell?" Quirell inquired softly. 

"Avada Kedavra, the killing curse," Brian answered gently. "It's one of the three Unforgivable Curses, along with the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperius Curse." 

"Exactly, your understanding is solid," Quirell said. "Would you like to learn this spell? I can teach you." 

"Ah, I'm still your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As my top student, Walker, it seems I haven't shown you any spells yet," Quirell continued in a deeper voice. 

"My magical skills probably aren't quite up to par," Brian replied flatly. 

"No, it's nothing extraordinary, Walker," Quirell said gently. "For most cases, it indeed takes a strong magical foundation to function." 

"But there's a simpler way to use it, Walker." 

"As long as your heart is filled with the intent to kill something, even a first-year wizard can use it to end a life." 

"Of course, this might be challenging, as it requires the nourishment of hatred to bear its best fruit. It demands immense killing intent, Walker." 

"When your mind is consumed with nothing but the urge to kill, taking a life can become effortless." 

"Naturally, the condition is that you also have the chance to say this spell." 

"I think we can give it a try," Quirell coaxed. "As a token of my thanks, I'll teach you how to wield it." 

He pointed his wand and summoned a bat the size of a person from the shadows of the trees, suspending it mid-air with a magical rope and said to Brian, "Now, take out your wand and cast the spell at it, Frilly." 

"Focus on your killing intent; you can think of it as your father's killer, or something similar," Quirell said softly. 

Brian drew his wand, aimed at the bat, and declared, "Avada Kedavra!" 

A faint green spark shot out and struck the bat, causing it to flail its wings wildly in mid-air. 

"Your killing intent isn't strong enough, Walker!" Quirell remarked. "And your pronunciation of the spell needs some work…" 

As Quirell explained, Brian repeatedly attempted the forbidden spell, and by the time they were nearing the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he had only just managed to extinguish the bat's life. 

One was patiently teaching, while the other diligently learned; it formed quite a pleasant teacher-student relationship. 

If one could ignore the chilling essence of the lesson. 

Upon exiting the Forbidden Forest, Quirell cast a Disillusionment Charm over them, and they crossed the grounds back to the castle. 

"I think next week, Walker, we should continue our search for unicorns," Quirell remarked seriously as they split up. 

"Alright, Professor," Brian nodded. 

Walking down the dark staircase step by step, Brian paused at the damp stone wall: "Glory." 

The stone wall rolled back, revealing a hidden stone door that allowed Brian to pass through. 

Instead of heading to the dormitory, he quietly settled into an armchair, lost in thought. 

"Having clearly chosen a dark path, do you still long for the light?" he pondered. 

This situation felt stagnant. 

He'd rather embrace pure wickedness. 

Because, in this world, he was ultimately just a person. 

Brian sat quietly in the dark, remaining still for what felt like a long time. 

...

"Who are you?" 

"Are you truly yourself?" 

"Is the self you think you know really you?" 

"Are you him? Is he you? Where do you come from? Where has he gone?" 

"Are you alive? Or are you dead?" 

"Is the world genuine, or simply an illusion?" 

"Are dreams real?" 

"Is death a beginning or an end?" 

"Can the future really never touch the past?" 

"…" 

Brian found himself enveloped in a dense darkness, with questions echoing from the void, asked in voices of varying ages and genders. They grew closer and louder. 

He wandered aimlessly in the dark, feeling no fear, no unease, no joy, no sadness, no hope, nor despair, as if he'd always been here, as if he was rushing toward an unavoidable conclusion. 

Suddenly, a shadow appeared faintly ahead; it was a pitch-black silhouette, merging with the shadows. Strangely, Brian spotted it clearly amidst the gloom. 

The shadow was tiny, no bigger than a grain of rice, and it kept moving forward, drifting farther away. 

Brian quickened his pace to catch up, but no matter how fast he went, the shadow remained just out of reach. 

In the end, it slipped through an archway and vanished completely. 

Only the archway remained, softly glowing, as if it had existed since time immemorial, standing as the lone source of light in the abyss. 

It felt like coming home. 

Brian woke up in his bed, gazing at the curtains of the four-poster bed. It definitely wasn't a nightmare, yet he found his forehead clammy with cold sweat. 

"Was it all a dream?" he mumbled heavily. 

But that dream felt so tangible. 

It vividly uncovered memories he'd long been reluctant to face. 

This world truly exists, filled with souls. 

But where had the original Brian gone after he crossed over? 

He understood deeply that everything he had now was taken from others. His family was never truly his. Everything in his possession wasn't really his at all. 

Their love and hatred weren't bestowed upon him. 

So, how could he genuinely belong to this world? 

This body felt like a thick mask he could never remove or shed. 

His true self would never be revealed to anyone in this world, would it? 

Brian glanced at his hands and let out a self-deprecating laugh. 

If there is indeed something that can reflect the soul, what, exactly, is his soul today—his past self or his current being? 

Brian clenched his fist, his expression calming. 

No matter what, the fact that he was living another life was an incredible blessing. 

Thus, he would rather sever his fantasies and pursue something more tangible, like knowledge and power. 

Even if that meant walking a dark path. 

Brian closed his eyes and got up from the bed.