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 impendih 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 wrohe entire wizarding world, but to her, he had been nothing but kind.

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

  Knock, knock, knock!

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

  "e in! The door's not locked." The voice from ihe office betrayed no hint of illness.

  Eda pushed the door open and stepped ihe 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 te? Are you struggling with something, or do you o borrow a book from the library?"

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

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

  Cecil froze momentarily at her words, then smiled and said, "Have a seat. So Sold 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 plexion turned noticeably paler.

  "More or less. He expined what the potion does," Eda said, gently tapping the box. "It dey death, but for those who take it, it's only postponing the iable. 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 o take it as often," Cecil tinued. "But my dition has worsened day by day, and my relian the potion has grown. That's why I've ended up in this state you see now."

  He spoke casually, as though reting someone else's story rather than his own. Eda uood his perspective. Wheh is so near, fear loses its grip. No matter what you do, the oute is unavoidable.

  In such circumstances, one might as well face it with accepta 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 -smoking ey every day. His lectures were engaging, and he roachable with his students—more like an old child at heart than someoh one foot in the grave.

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

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

  Cecil smiled gently and shook his head. "There's nothing you 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 rison located on a desote isnd far from civilization, a pce feared by every witd wizard in Britain. Even Hagrid, who loved all kinds of magical creatures, would show fear when talking about Azkaban. Cecil himself wasn't immuo its infamy.

  The Dementuarding the prison were among the most terrifying magical creatures in the world. Wherever they passed, they drained all joy, ce, 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 ce of recovery. That was what made Azkaban and the Dementors truly terrifying.

  Wizards repel Dementors using the Patronus Charm, one of the most powerful and a defensive spells in the wizarding world. Successfully casting a Patronus is extremely challenging; most wizards either fail entirely or produ 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 mao produce had siderable 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 t as help. It's just a task Professor Snape assigned me," Eda said, though deep down, she still wao do something for Cecil. That way, she wouldn't feel so ied to him.

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

  He tinued, "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 sihings."

  "I'm sorry, Professor, but I really '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 teract its harmful effects. Put simply, Eda wahe bes without the drawbacks.

  Thanks to Cecil's "indulgehis school year, Eda had frequehe Restricted Se of the library. She had read numerous forbidden books on potions and had also gained siderable knowledge about dark magic.

  pared to ordinary magic, dark magic was undeniably more destructive and dangerous—like paring a wooden stick to a trolled on. The damage it caused was not only imme often irreversible.

  Dark magic is also a profound discipli first, one might quickly gairaordinary power, but as the learning deepens, the dangers and plexities of dark magicrease expoially.

  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 bee a derawisted, and obsessive creature driven solely by a lust for killing?

  Dark magic distorts the mind. Almost every wizard with signifit aplishments 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 uand it."

  As Eda was leaving his office, Cecil called after her o time, reminding her: "Remember the most important thing—evil never lies in power itself. Evil lies in the huma…"

  _________

  Read 12 Chapters ahead at my Patreon!?

  Patreon: Dragonel