Malfoy's screams sounding raw, agonized, and inhuman continued to echo through the office for two full minutes before gradually subsiding into hoarse whimpers and then finally silence.
By the end of this disturbing ordeal, Harry and the others had grown somewhat numb to the sounds, their initial horror was replaced by exhausted sympathy mixed with relief that it was ending.
At this point, the crystal vial in Adrian's hand had been completely filled with captured black smoke, the container was now taking on a strange, sickly dark green color. The substance inside moved with abnormality, pressing against the glass as though seeking escape.
Malfoy slumped heavily in his chair, completely spent, his face was slick with sweat and pale as a corpse. His marked arm now bore only a faint, irregular scar, as if the flesh had been severely burned and was slowly healing.
"Did it work?" Harry asked quietly, breaking the heavy silence. "Is it really gone?"
Adrian carefully shook the crystal vial in his hand, the dark liquid inside was glimmering with a dangerous light that seemed to absorb rather than reflect the room's light.
"I think it should be completely removed, yes," He said with confidence, holding the bottle up to examine it against the candlelight more closely. "This is definitely Voldemort's personal magic... hmm, truly impressive work from a technical standpoint, even if horrifying in purpose."
Everyone possessed roughly similar aura and quality of raw magical power, but Voldemort's magic felt distinctly different from normal wizard's work: it carried a chaotic, fundamentally evil quality that made the skin crawl and the mind wince.
This twisted character certainly wasn't innate to the magic itself or to Tom Riddle's original abilities.
Adrian strongly believed it might be directly related to Voldemort's fractured soul, the multiple Horcruxes were corrupting the very core of his magic and making it dark, and unstable.
Dumbledore bent down, gazing intently at Malfoy's pale, exhausted face. He inquired with concern: "How do you feel, my boy? Any lingering sensations?"
Malfoy tentatively touched the barely visible scar on his arm, feeling the raised tissue gingerly for a long moment, testing it.
Then he let out a long, shuddering breath of profound relief, his tense shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in weeks. The constant tension that had been holding him stiff simply melted away.
He raised his arm slowly and examined it in the light, turning it back and forth.
"He... has left," Malfoy said, his voice carrying a tone of wonder and liberation. "That voice that's been constantly pressing on my mind all this time, whispering orders and threats—it's disappeared completely. I feel... lighter."
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully at this crucial information, then looked meaningfully at Adrian. "Regarding Harry's scar and..."
"No, absolutely not," Adrian interrupted firmly before Dumbledore could finish the thought. "It's too dangerous for Harry. The circumstances are completely different."
Adrian naturally understood Dumbledore's unspoken intention, it was nothing more than potentially using the same purification potion to remove the fragment of Voldemort's soul that resided in Harry's scar.
But that situation was fundamentally different...
Unless they were truly desperate or had achieved a one hundred percent guaranteed success rate through wide testing, Adrian wouldn't attempt it. Harry's soul fragment was older, more integrated, more dangerous to extract and more importantly a Horcrux. One mistake could kill him or destroy his mind.
Dumbledore nodded slightly in acceptance, calmly acknowledging this refusal without argument. He'd expected as much.
Adrian then turned his attention back to their patient and continued his questioning: "Now, Mr. Malfoy, with the mark removed, can you tell us truthfully why Voldemort gave you the Dark Mark in the first place? What was his purpose?"
Malfoy's eyes immediately wandered nervously over Harry and the other two students still present in the room, clearly unwilling to reveal these secrets in front of them.
"You don't want them to hear?" Adrian asked, slightly taken aback by this hesitation.
Malfoy nodded firmly.
"Hey!" Ron immediately raised his fist in protest, his face flushing. "That's not fair at all! We're the ones who discovered this whole thing! We fought him!"
Dumbledore gently raised his hand in a calming gesture.
"I think tonight has been quite eventful enough for everyone involved," He said with authority, turning his sharp gaze to the three students. "You three should return to your dormitory now. I won't pursue what happened tonight in terms of disciplinary action—"
His gaze lingered meaningfully on Ron for an extra second: "Especially you, Mr. Weasley. Need I remind you that Hogwarts does not permit students to duel privately? You've been fortunate this time."
Ron's ears instantly turned bright red with embarrassment. He opened his mouth to defend himself and explain the circumstances, but was pulled firmly away by Hermione before he could make things worse.
"We're leaving right now, Professor," Hermione said quickly and tactfully, simultaneously tugging insistently on Ron's sleeve and practically dragging him toward the exit. "Thank you for your understanding."
She genuinely wasn't joking around: she absolutely didn't want Gryffindor to lose all its accumulated house points over this incident.
Dumbledore very likely already knew every detail about Ron and Malfoy's little secret duel and was choosing to be merciful. They shouldn't push their luck.
Harry hesitated near the door, glancing back at Malfoy with a complicated expression, then touched his faintly aching scar with concern. "Professor Dumbledore, my scar is bothering me. Should I be—"
"I know exactly what you're worried about, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted gently. "But right now, rest and recovery are more important for you than lengthy explanations. Come to my office after breakfast tomorrow morning, and we'll discuss everything in proper detail. Oh yes, the current password is Lemon Sherbet."
After the three students departed, with Ron still muttering protests under his breath, the office door closed automatically with a soft click.
The atmosphere immediately shifted, becoming more serious and mature.
Adrian carefully placed the ominous crystal vial containing Voldemort's captured magic on Dumbledore's desk, where it sat like a small bomb.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, with no student witnesses, tell us the complete truth. Why did Voldemort specifically give you the Dark Mark? What's the real purpose?"
Malfoy's Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed hard. A visible flash of internal struggle passed across his face.
"This is just my personal speculation based on what I know," He began carefully. "I could be wrong, but..."
Adrian leaned forward, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
A speculation? That seemed oddly cautious.
Malfoy took a deep breath, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I believe... the Dark Lord is searching for a vessel capable of containing his soul. A new body to live."
"?"
Adrian and Dumbledore exchanged a sharp, meaningful glance of alarm, and Snape's emotionless expression changed vividly as well, his face went limp with shock.
Clearly, this revelation was far beyond what any of them had expected or prepared for.
"Continue," Adrian commanded, leaning forward intently. His expression had gone completely grave. "Tell us everything you know."
"I learned this from my father indirectly," Malfoy explained, his voice taking on a bitter tone.
He managed a humorless, self-deprecating smile. "The Dark Lord has given many young people the Dark Mark recently, dozens, possibly. Unfortunately, I became one of them. He performed rituals on all of us, casting complex spells that took hours. I originally thought it was just standard Death Eater initiation, the usual brand of loyalty."
He paused, gathering courage to continue.
"But recently, when I was researching in the Restricted Section of the library, trying to understand what had been done to me—I accidentally discovered through cross-referencing that what he actually cast on us was an extremely evil, ancient Dark magic I'd never heard of before."
"What specific magic?" Adrian demanded.
"It's not an ordinary Dark Mark at all," Malfoy's voice trembled with remembered fear. "Hidden within the brand is a preparatory ritual for grafting souls, a process capable of subtly transforming the cursed person's body over time to make it... compatible. Malleable. Ready."
His voice dropped. "He wants to take our bodies. We're spare vessels!"
As soon as he finished speaking this horrifying revelation, the entire office fell into stunned, heavy silence.
Even the portraits on the walls seemed to be holding their breath.
"Voldemort is screening potential vessels," Adrian said slowly, thoughtfully, his mind racing.
He was making judgments as he spoke. "He may have given up on creating a suitable artificial body for himself and is instead selecting from existing young bodies and modifying them. However, what I can't understand is why Hogwarts' library would possibly have books containing information about this kind of forbidden magic."
"That's not the primary issue right now," Dumbledore said grimly. "The library's Restricted Section contains information about everything dark wizards have ever created, which is precisely why we can't allow students to enter recklessly without supervision. Knowledge of evil exists so we can combat it."
At this tense moment, Snape's sallow face darkened considerably as an unpleasant realization hit him.
He thought back to the recent months' strange abnormalities he'd been noticing but dismissing.
Many former Death Eaters he'd known during his own time in Voldemort's service had been sending him letters lately, many letters, hoping to reconnect and "get together" for old times' sake.
It seemed that must be directly connected to this vessel-selection matter, they were probably gathering candidates.
Good thing he'd had the sense not to act rashly or respond positively to those proposals.
"Your father doesn't know Voldemort's true purpose?" Snape asked coldly, his voice dripping with contempt for Lucius's willful ignorance.
Malfoy shook his head dejectedly. "I didn't dare tell anyone about my discoveries, not even him. Father only knows I received the Dark Mark itself... He's always been against it, but I had no choice in the matter. And realistically..."
He trailed off, then continued softly: "It wouldn't change anything even if he knew. We couldn't fight this."
He was well aware that even if he'd explained this entire matter to his father, it probably wouldn't have helped the situation at all.
Even the current weakened Voldemort was not someone the Malfoy family could realistically oppose and survive the consequences.
After Malfoy revealed everything he knew, Adrian suddenly recalled the time he'd encountered Malfoy in the Restricted Section a while back, looking exhausted and sneaky.
Perhaps that specific night was when the boy had already discovered through research that Voldemort had designs on stealing his body.
No wonder Malfoy had been so desperately determined to rid himself of the Dark Mark at any cost—so this was the true reason.
Adrian's gaze fell thoughtfully on the ominous vial filled with dark magical power sitting on the desk.
He'd been somewhat puzzled from the very start of the removal process: the magic concentrated in this particular Dark Mark had seemed excessively dense and complex compared to what he knew of standard Dark Mark.
Now it made perfect sense.
After a moment of heavy silence where everyone processed these implications, Dumbledore asked the next logical question: "Do you know how many people Voldemort has chosen as potential... vessels?"
Malfoy's fingers unconsciously twisted the edge of his robes nervously. "At least five that I know of... possibly many more, but I don't know the specific individuals or where they are."
"What about Goyle and Crabbe?" Adrian asked. "Your usual companions?"
He'd specifically noticed that Malfoy's two constant sidekicks hadn't appeared anywhere at all today.
"Crabbe and Goyle?" Malfoy actually let out a short, humorless laugh. "Voldemort would never choose those two as vessels. Never."
He shook his head. "Those two idiots can barely learn the most basic first-year spells even after four years of education. The Dark Lord wants a body capable of channeling powerful magic, not... that."
The corner of Adrian's mouth twitched with inappropriate amusement despite the serious situation.
Well, if he were Voldemort trying to select a suitable new body, he wouldn't want to end up stuck in Crabbe or Goyle's bodies either.
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