Boom!
Silver-white lightning tore through the darkness, mixing with the distant thunderous crash from the church as the storm echoed farther into the night.
Although Dawn was curious about what had happened there—and deeply wanted to know what was hidden in the location marked with a red X on the map—he had absolutely no intention of leaving the house.
He was in too much pain.
The blood loss had left his body weak and sluggish.
Rather than investigating mysterious clues, surviving this mind-link and avoiding death seemed far more practical.
But—Not everything in this world unfolds according to expectations.
Even in a dream world.
Within the storm, Dawn suddenly heard a creaking sound.
Instinctively, he looked toward the door.
In the darkness, an even deeper shadow smashed through the doorway, and a pair of glowing crimson eyes burst into view.
The black dog had appeared again.
Yet Dawn did not panic.
He immediately shoved open the window and focused intently, waiting for the beast to pounce.
He had already figured it out.
The creature possessed almost no intelligence. Its movements were rigid and predictable.
As long as he timed things properly, the beast would once again become stuck in the window frame.
Boom!
Another bolt of lightning split the sky.
Pale blue light briefly illuminated the world.
Dawn narrowed his eyes to lessen the blinding glare—
But at that exact moment, a pale serpentine face suddenly entered his vision.
Inside the black dog's jaws hung a bloody human head.
And the twisted face growing from the flesh belonged unmistakably to Voldemort.
Dawn's pupils contracted violently.
Voldemort... had died.
A bizarre sense of unreality washed over him.
It felt like the sudden disappearance of a first-stage boss in a game, leaving his thoughts completely blank.
Even knowing everyone in this dream world was reduced to ordinary humans, and that dying to such a monstrous black dog was entirely reasonable—Tom's elimination still felt absurdly abrupt.
What exactly... had happened over there?
Dawn inhaled sharply, quietly heightening his guard.
Then—
Gulp.
The black dog spat the head onto the floor.
Its claws dug into the ground as it lunged forward through flying splinters, carrying with it the cold stench of mud and rain.
Dawn planted a hand on the windowsill and flipped out of the room the instant the creature approached, rolling across the wet, muddy ground outside.
Bang!
A heavy crash echoed behind him.
Looking back, Dawn saw exactly what he expected—
The black dog had become stuck in the window frame again, flailing its claws uselessly.
Dawn glanced at the dagger clenched in his hand.
For a moment, he considered stabbing the creature in the throat.
But after seeing the sheer speed and power of its massive claws, he abandoned the thought.
Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted out of the yard.
Originally, he had planned to hide in another house.
But the sight of Voldemort's severed head lingering in his memory caused him to hesitate.
After a brief pause—He turned around and headed straight back toward the church.
His curiosity had overwhelmed his exhaustion.
And besides—
The church had windows too.
In Dawn's mind, they should still work well enough to restrict the black dog's movements.
With that thought in mind, he quickly arrived back at the church.
The prayer hall's window frame had been blasted apart, leaving behind a jagged hole in the wall.
Chunks of stone littered the ground.
A thick smell of blood drifted outward from within.
Dawn only glanced briefly inside.
The room was filled with mangled corpses.
The blood pooled on the floor had already darkened and begun coagulating.
Recalling the map he had seen while inside Blaise's body, Dawn used the prayer hall as a landmark and rapidly headed toward the location marked with the red X.
He had no proof.
But his instincts told him Voldemort's decision to remain at the church had absolutely been connected to that location.
It took only around five minutes.
Passing through another shattered wall, Dawn finally arrived at the place that had sparked his curiosity.
The room was small, perhaps thirty square meters.
Ordinary.
Unremarkable.
At the center lay a headless corpse.
Scattered nearby were numerous sheets of parchment.
Some were soaked in muddy water. Others had been partially consumed by candle fire.
So Voldemort died here?
What was he trying to find?
Dawn glanced at the corpse before picking up two nearby parchments.
Without reading them immediately, he first moved beside a window. Only then, using the dim firelight, did he begin examining the contents.
At the very top of the parchment, bold letters read:
[Magic Riot Experiment Log]
Dawn raised an eyebrow.
Magic Riot Experiment Log? Why would something like this be here? Was this what Voldemort came for?
Curiosity immediately surged within him.
After all, back in his first year, he himself had once considered researching magical riots.
Interested now, Dawn lowered his head and carefully deciphered the warped text through the water damage.
[February 3rd, 1543]
[It has been half a year since I moved to the Suffolk church. Today, I finally found a child in town possessing wizard qualifications.]
[His name is Sil. He is adorable, and more importantly, he has not yet experienced a magic riot. Truly wonderful news.]
A child with wizard qualifications...
Dawn paused.
Although magical children were only officially recognized after experiencing a magic riot, there were indeed methods of identifying them beforehand.
For example, Dawn himself had seen the Leaky Cauldron before his own magical awakening.
And Hogwarts possessed the Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance.
Continuing onward, Dawn already mentally sentenced the boy named Sil to death.
After all, in that era, being discovered by the Church could never mean anything good.
Still— Even though he had expected darkness, the next lines shocked him completely.
[February 5th, 1543]
[I violated him.]
"...What?"
Dawn blinked repeatedly.
The sudden sentence left him stunned for several seconds.
After staring at it for a long while, he continued reading while internally muttering things like "Britain..." and "the Church..."
Surely a document titled Magic Riot Experiment Log couldn't consist entirely of this.
There had to be useful information somewhere.
[Of course, calling it violation isn't entirely accurate. I did not force him.
I exchanged food for his starving family in return.
Sil hesitated for an entire day before agreeing. That was unsurprising. If he wished to avoid starving to death, he had no choice.]
[And thus—
On the night of February 6th, 1543, beneath dim candlelight and before the praying statue of God, I listened to his suppressed sobbing.
To ordinary people, this would likely seem a sinful act deserving of hell.
But to any member of the clergy, this is a righteous and praiseworthy deed.
Because he belongs to the same race as those wizards who so casually massacre lives.
I believe this righteous act is precisely what God desires. I shall forever remain a devout believer, leaving no mercy in the extermination of wizards.]
Dawn narrowed his eyes.
Those words—extermination of wizards—instantly reminded him of the Church's long-dead power.
He sneered coldly.
Then continued reading.
[February 7th, 1543]
[This morning, I brought Sil away from the prayer hall. And just as Church records described, the process proceeded smoothly.
The most accident-prone first stage has been completed. Next, I must continue taming him.]
Taming?
Dawn frowned thoughtfully.
[February 27th, 1543]
[After over half a month of effort, I can see complete fear in Sil's eyes.
From this point onward, no matter what I do to him, I believe he will no longer dare retaliate against the Church during a magic riot.
Thus, the experiment may finally proceed to the next stage.]
I see.
Dawn slowly began understanding.
The so-called "taming" referred to psychologically breaking magical children through prolonged abuse and fear.
The purpose was simple—
Prevent the Church itself from becoming a target during the inevitable magical outburst.
And strangely enough— At that moment, Dawn suddenly recalled Dumbledore's earlier explanation about black dogs representing guardianship.
A vague theory began forming in his mind.
Still—What exactly had his current mind link identity been? Why had he carried a church map?
And why had the marked destination contained records like these?
Filled with questions, Dawn kept reading.
[March 1st, 1543]
[I intentionally allowed Sil to escape the church.
And just as he relaxed, I appeared once more, dragged him back, and punished him severely.
I informed him that escape was impossible. No matter where he fled, I would always find him.
After repeating this process three times, I used psychological conditioning to suppress any emotional urge to escape, thereby preventing his magic riot from allowing him to vanish from the Church.]
[March 9th, 1543]
[The experiment continues.
Remarkably, even before magical awakening, wizard physiques far surpass ordinary adult men.]
[March 10th, 1543]
[Perhaps I played too roughly. Sil's emotions appear unstable.
This will not do. A magic riot occurring too early would fail to achieve the desired effect.
I would then need to locate another wizard child.]
[Thus—
I deliberately caused illness in his mother, then cured her in front of him, using gratitude to make him even more obedient and suppress his emotions further.
According to Church records, only when emotions accumulate to an extreme degree can a magic riot achieve maximum effectiveness.]
[April 16th, 1543]
[From the numb suffering in Sil's eyes, I can tell his emotions have reached their limit.
Thus, I returned him to his home.
And then—]
[April 16th, 1543, Night]
[Magic Riot.]
Dawn narrowed his eyes.
Even through these scattered fragments, he could feel the blood, despair, and suffocating madness hidden within the story.
No wonder wizards and the Church had once been mortal enemies.
That era had truly been insane.
Wizards experimented on Muggles. The Church experimented on wizards. Neither side had been remotely sane.
Still, although Dawn pitied the boy named Sil—What interested him most was the result of the magic riot itself.
Under the burning firelight, he continued reading.
[April 17th, 1543]
[Experiment concluded.
Although partial success was achieved, the results differed greatly from expectations.
I perfectly recreated an experiment conducted by the Church thirty years prior.
Every step was identical.]
[According to previous results, Sil should have created an invisibility garment with extraordinary defensive abilities due to his desire to escape and protect himself.
Unfortunately, something went wrong.
Only a tablecloth within Sil's home underwent transformation.
As expected, thoughts and willpower are far too abstract for precise control. Even identical procedures produce completely different results.]
[April 18th, 1543]
[After confirming its effects, I have named it the Feast Tablecloth.
Its function is simple: once folded and unfolded, it produces food. Further testing revealed the food is not created from nothing.
Instead, the tablecloth summons nearby food through effects resembling a combination of Summoning Charms, Banishing Charms, and Apparition.]
[However, the Feast Tablecloth only functions within the range of a single town.
If no food exists within that range, then nothing appears.
A magical artifact born from a magic riot...]
Dawn stared thoughtfully at the words Feast Tablecloth.
It was fascinating.
Then another idea suddenly appeared in his mind.
If magical artifacts created through riots resembled alchemical objects—Did they also contain runes?
And if they did—
Could ancient runes originally have been discovered not through invention, but through studying magical artifacts born from magical riots?
The thought struck him as astonishingly plausible.
There was only one final section remaining.
[Though all this effort produced only a mostly useless magical artifact, patience remains necessary.
After all, the experiment was not entirely fruitless.
Upon reflection, I believe our mistake lay in showing Sil too much warmth.
Perhaps he had already developed suicidal thoughts, but could not abandon his family.]
[Thus, during his magic riot, he left behind a tablecloth ensuring they would never starve.
Next time, once I locate another child who has not yet undergone a magic riot, I can conduct a more refined experiment.]
The contents ended there.
The wind blew through the cracks in the ruined walls.
Leaning against the stone, Dawn tightened his coat while recalling everything he had read.
Then he suddenly thought about the ability he himself had obtained during his own magical riot—
Those eyes capable of seeing characteristic patterns, the very ability that had allowed him to complete magical creature transfiguration.
Magic riots.
Phenomena occurring only during childhood, marking the true beginning of a wizard's life— Seemed to contain far greater power than people realized.
Dawn found himself wondering why the Church had not attempted something simpler.
Why not deliberately cultivate an obsessive desire within magical children?
Wouldn't that create more precise outcomes?
But after a brief moment, he understood.
Children's desires were simple and unstable.
Most would naturally become obsessed with random trivial things long before adulthood, wasting the opportunity entirely.
The reason Dawn himself had managed to obsessively pursue knowledge for months on end was largely due to those dreamlike memories resembling a previous life.
Gradually, the storm outside weakened.
Without realizing it, Dawn had completely forgotten about the black dog as his thoughts spiraled deeper into theories surrounding magical riots.
His understanding of magic had always been simple.
Anything unreasonable.
Anything beyond imagination.
Was created through magic.
And magic itself consisted of two categories:
Personal magic controlled by wizards. And natural magic shaped by collective consciousness.
So perhaps—
Magic riots were phenomena in which a wizard's consciousness temporarily influenced natural magic itself.
Because neither his own awakened ability nor magical artifacts like the Feast Tablecloth resembled power achievable through ordinary personal magic.
Dawn fell into deep thought.
Of course, these were still only theories.
To verify them, he would need to study a child who had not yet undergone a magic riot.
Which was extraordinarily difficult.
"If only I could see Hogwarts' Book of Admittance..."
Dawn murmured thoughtfully.
He mentally memorized the church's location, planning to investigate it after returning to reality.
After all—The Church's research into wizards had clearly once stood at the forefront of magical knowledge.
Eventually, Dawn slowly returned from his thoughts.
Then suddenly—He froze.
Looking up, he realized the rain had gradually become quieter.
The storm itself seemed frozen in place.
Was it ending?
Narrowing his eyes, Dawn rushed back into the room while time still remained, frantically digging through the scattered papers.
Unfortunately— Most had already been destroyed by rain or burned beyond recognition.
Only ruined scraps remained.
Just as the mind-link began fading away, Dawn grabbed one final piece of parchment.
Then suddenly—
His expression changed.
The parchment was mostly destroyed.
Only a title remained visible at the very top:
[Hypotheses and Experiments Regarding Ordinary Humans Obtaining Magic]
___________
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