Hogwarts Emerald

Glover Cecil, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, was a notorious dark wizard, yet to Eda, he was a doting white-haired elder. Knowing that this old man could die at any moment, how could Eda not feel sorrow?

For those harmed by Cecil, the news of his impending death might prompt them to pop open champagne in celebration of their enemy's demise. Many others would rejoice at the thought of one less dark wizard in the world. But Eda couldn't bring herself to think that way.

Cecil might have wronged the entire wizarding world, but to her, he had been nothing but kind.

Cecil's office was connected to his classroom, with a staircase leading up to his private office and resting quarters. Collecting herself, Eda raised her hand and knocked on the door.

Knock, knock, knock!

"Professor, it's me, Esmeralda Twist."

"Come in! The door's not locked." The voice from inside the office betrayed no hint of illness.

Eda pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room reeked of smoke, but Cecil appeared to be in good shape. He was bent over, engrossed in studying a manuscript, showing no outward signs of frailty.

Looking up, he said, "Leave the door open to air out the smoke. Don't want it to choke you. What brings you here so late? Are you struggling with something, or do you need to borrow a book from the library?"

Several thick books lay scattered across the desk, all showing significant signs of age. The paper was brittle and worn, with traces of insect damage, as if a mere gust of wind could reduce them to dust.

Placing the box of potions on the desk, Eda said, "Professor Snape asked me to bring you these. Your health… is it really..."

Cecil froze momentarily at her words, then smiled and said, "Have a seat. So Snape told you everything? Since you already know, I don't have to keep up appearances anymore."

As he spoke, Cecil adjusted his posture, leaning wearily against his chair. His brows furrowed slightly, and his complexion turned noticeably paler.

"More or less. He explained what the potion does," Eda said, gently tapping the box. "It can delay death, but for those who take it, it's only postponing the inevitable. There's no cure—just waiting."

Cecil replied, "Yes, I'm dying. Dark magic gave me power, but it also destroyed my body. Even so, I don't regret studying the dark arts. The fault lies with me, not the magic itself."

"Before the term started, Snape was already preparing this potion for me. Back then, my magic could still sustain me, and I didn't need to take it as often," Cecil continued. "But my condition has worsened day by day, and my reliance on the potion has grown. That's why I've ended up in this state you see now."

He spoke casually, as though recounting someone else's story rather than his own. Eda understood his perspective. When death is so near, fear loses its grip. No matter what you do, the outcome is unavoidable.

In such circumstances, one might as well face it with acceptance—at least it looks dignified.

Eda thought back to the beginning of the school term.

At that time, Cecil seemed perfectly normal, puffing away like a chain-smoking chimney every day. His lectures were engaging, and he was approachable with his students—more like an old child at heart than someone with one foot in the grave. 

"Still, you don't need to worry too much," Cecil said with a playful smile. "I can hold out until the end of the term. So, if you have any restricted books you want to check out, you'd better hurry up!"

Living in this world inevitably means navigating all kinds of relationships. Some people will help you selflessly, but you can't take their kindness for granted. Eda and Cecil's relationship was just like that. So, she asked, "Professor, is there anything I can do to help you?"

Cecil smiled gently and shook his head. "There's nothing you can help me with unless you're ready to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban. Besides, you already helped me by bringing the potion. That's more than enough."

Azkaban—a wizard prison located on a desolate island far from civilization, a place feared by every witch and wizard in Britain. Even Hagrid, who loved all kinds of magical creatures, would show fear when talking about Azkaban. Cecil himself wasn't immune to its infamy.

The Dementors guarding the prison were among the most terrifying magical creatures in the world. Wherever they passed, they drained all joy, courage, and positive feelings, leaving only despair.

They forced people to relive their worst memories. Even more horrifying was the Dementor's Kiss, which could suck out a person's soul, leaving behind a hollow shell with no chance of recovery. That was what made Azkaban and the Dementors truly terrifying.

Wizards can repel Dementors using the Patronus Charm, one of the most powerful and ancient defensive spells in the wizarding world. Successfully casting a Patronus is extremely challenging; most wizards either fail entirely or produce an indistinct silver mist with no defined shape. 

Eda had practiced the Patronus Charm, though she had yet to summon a full, corporeal Patronus. However, even the silvery mist she managed to produce had considerable defensive power.

This school year felt like the closest Eda had ever been to Azkaban. She seemed to hear its name mentioned everywhere, so often that she half-jokingly imagined Hogwarts having a fifth house named Azkaban—Most of the previous Hogwarts students were rotting their after all.

"This doesn't really count as help. It's just a task Professor Snape assigned me," Eda said, though deep down, she still wanted to do something for Cecil. That way, she wouldn't feel so indebted to him.

"You're the most gifted witch I've ever met," Cecil said, leaning back slightly. "I wish I could teach you more—pass on my knowledge and research on dark magic. But unfortunately…" He pointed upwards toward the eighth floor. "Unfortunately, the one living up there won't allow it."

He continued, "He thinks the power of dark magic is too alluring and far too dangerous, especially for someone as young as you. He believes you shouldn't be exposed to such dark and sinister things."

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I really can't help you with that," Eda replied. She had no desire to study dark magic, at least not until she could find a way to counteract its harmful effects. Put simply, Eda wanted the benefits without the drawbacks.

Thanks to Cecil's "indulgence" this school year, Eda had frequented the Restricted Section of the library. She had read numerous forbidden books on potions and had also gained considerable knowledge about dark magic.

Compared to ordinary magic, dark magic was undeniably more destructive and dangerous—like comparing a wooden stick to a controlled weapon. The damage it caused was not only immense but often irreversible.

Dark magic is also a profound discipline. At first, one might quickly gain extraordinary power, but as the learning deepens, the dangers and complexities of dark magic increase exponentially.

Driven by inner desire, some people attempt increasingly perilous methods of learning, using bizarre and dangerous dark magic transformation rituals to acquire power.

But after such transformations, are you still the same person you were? Or have you become a deranged, twisted, and obsessive creature driven solely by a lust for killing?

Dark magic distorts the mind. Almost every wizard with significant accomplishments in dark magic has psychological issues of some kind.

This was the main reason Eda had always resisted the temptation of dark magic.

Although magic was a deeply subjective and will-driven practice, Eda didn't trust herself to withstand its allure.

Cecil's eyelids drooped, and he looked drowsy. In a soft voice, he said to Eda, "That's enough for now. Go back. I should rest, too. You don't have to study dark magic, but you must understand it."

As Eda was leaving his office, Cecil called after her one last time, reminding her: 

"Remember the most important thing—evil never lies in power itself. Evil lies in the human heart…"

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