036 Not to be Underestimated

Bryan meticulously cleaned up the desk, ensuring that even the smallest items, such as the candlestick and the cherished photo of him and Grandma Ferena, were carefully relocated to other places to prevent any potential damage.

Before commencing the task of rearranging, Bryan cast a brief glance at the monitoring wall across the room. Hogwarts appeared serene, with no significant incidents taking place at that moment. Letting out a sigh, Bryan returned to the bedside to retrieve his suitcase. After rummaging through it, he retrieved a peculiar candlestick.

The lower section of the candlestick featured a voodoo doll with eyes as large as a baby's fist and teeth bared, extending below its earlobes. The doll's body was black, while its face, swollen and displaying a terrifying smile, was roughly half the size of its body.

Bryan preferred not to delve into the origins of this doll. He had acquired it as an alchemy item from the underground trading market, sold by a wizard hailing from wakadorga in Africa.

Wakadorga, among the countries with flourishing magical civilizations, was known for its chaotic nature. This was perhaps due to the influence of its intricate Muggle social order. Even now, many people lived in tribal communities there, with the tribal leaders usually being witches with extensive lineage.

The tribal witches and wizards in Wakadorga still retained numerous ancient and brutal spells. Cursing and sacrifice were their favored methods, They performed dark rituals and practices that even a formidable wizard like Bryan preferred not to provoke.

The upper part of the candlestick held a transparent tube containing candle liquid. Since the doll had not been used previously, the tube remained pristine, devoid of any stains.

Next, it was time to prepare the candle liquid. Bryan reached into the box once more, retrieving a bottle of scarlet dragon's blood. This particular bottle contained the blood of a Norwegian red-scaled dragon that Bryan had slain. During the encounter, he had collected a substantial amount of dragon blood. Concerned about attracting the attention of the Ministry of Magic with excessive use, Bryan had amassed a significant reserve of dragon blood.

As known to many, the body of a fire dragon held immense treasures, particularly its blood and nerves, which were infused with potent magical energy, making them ideal ingredients for potions and spellcasting.

Bryan poured the dragon's blood into the transparent tube atop the voodoo doll's head. He observed the crystal-red mist forming on the surface of the slightly rippling liquid, nodding in satisfaction. It was now time to pay a small price.

Rolling up his sleeves, Bryan bared his arms, causing a dark silver light to flicker in the surrounding air. The spurting blood from his arm condensed into a coagulated stream, guided by the influence of his magic power, flowing accurately into the tube, merging with the dragon blood.

An ominous magic power permeated the office, seemingly capable of devouring light. The candlesticks on the bookshelf, once radiant, grew dimmer and dimmer, as if tainted by dust.

Bryan's expression turned solemn, the two purple vortexes in his eyes seeming to swirl in slow motion. With a steady hand, he continued to wave his wand, causing black tadpole-like runes to emerge from the wand, their gray glow indicating signs of life. These tadpole runes swam in the void before Bryan, leaving faint ink-like traces on the space they traversed.

"Go," Bryan commanded with a tone of mild majesty. Following his words, hundreds of tadpole runes rushed toward the mixture of dragon blood and his own blood, akin to weary birds returning to their nests.

Suddenly, an eerie breeze swept through the tranquil room, the tadpole runes agitating the blood, causing it to spin

Small blood-red electric sparks intermittently erupted from the undulating liquid's surface, creating a captivating yet disconcerting sight.

Bryan continuously infused his magic power into the concoction, creating a gray current of air. Under the catalytic effect of his own magic power, the magic within the tadpole runes gradually merged with the magic within the blood, causing the dragon blood to transition from a smooth liquid to a viscous state. Just before the blood fully solidified, Bryan plucked a lock of hair from his head and dropped it in. At that moment, a vibrant red candle with a flickering wick was finally crafted.

In the dimly lit room, Bryan wiped away imaginary beads of sweat from his forehead. He straightened his posture, his expression still serious.

"Peng!"

A towering flame, nearly three feet high, emanated from the lit candle, surrounded by a dark gray halo. From a distance, it resembled a flaming torch positioned above the voodoo doll's head.

By all accounts, a candle burning at such a staggering pace would last mere minutes before extinguishing. However, the stout form of this peculiar candle refused to diminish. It seemed as though the consumed elements were not the candle's liquid or wick.

"It is up to you," Bryan murmured softly, his eyelashes trembling slightly. Standing before the voodoo doll, he held his wand upright, his expression profoundly solemn. His low tone seemed to carry the weight of an oath, as if conducting a momentous ceremony.

"I, Bryan Amos Watson, willingly accept the invitation of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, to serve as an assistant professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts," he intoned, the sound reverberating in the room.

In that very instant, the air in the office trembled violently. A tremendously powerful and malevolent curse, forced into action, descended upon Bryan through the barriers of time and space. In a trance-like state, he seemed to hear the agonized screams of countless tortured and brutally murdered individuals in their final moments.

Simultaneously, Albus Dumbledore, seated behind his desk on the eighth floor, jolted from his contemplation. He swiftly turned his head, fixing his sharp, solemn, blue eyes towards Bryan's office. It was as if he could see, through the layers of walls, the exact events unfolding before Bryan's eyes.

As the curse's power was directed towards him, Bryan had prepared a substitute, successfully diverting the actual curse away. However, upon encountering the voodoo doll, the curse swiftly realized it had been deceived.

An enraged roar reverberated through the void, transforming the cursing power, infused with trembling magical energy, into a tangible and rapidly expanding dark bubble. It engulfed the voodoo doll, hurtling towards Bryan!

Observing the impending failure of the substituted curse, Bryan remained composed. His eyelids fluttered, and his slightly furrowed brow added a touch of majesty to his otherwise indifferent expression. Standing two feet away, Bryan suddenly retracted his raised right hand, firmly pressing the tip of his wand against the materialized curse's force.

A strong gust of wind, created by the clash between the expanding curse and Bryan's powerful magic, surged from the tip of his wand. It swept through the entire office, filling every inch of space with fleeting gray lightning.

Even the images displayed on the monitoring wall flickered continuously due to the violent magic magnetic field that enveloped the entire floor.

The enigmatic vortexes in Bryan's eyes began spinning once more. His entire being bathed in a thin, imperceptible twilight. The magic consumed by the wand's tip resembled the tide of a typhoon, each surge growing stronger than the last.

As time passed, the bubble formed by the curse's power gradually lost momentum. It began to shrink, inch by inch, eventually retracting fully into the voodoo doll's body.

At that very moment, a slender crack appeared on the voodoo doll's grinning face, running across its prominent nose. The flames that had been burning vigorously diminished to a mere third of their original size.

Within the circular office, Headmaster Dumbledore wore a wry smile on his lips. He stood up involuntarily, placing his hand on Fawke's paw, then slowly settled back into his seat.

As for Professor Lockhart, his office located on the third floor, he had been on the verge of falling asleep in the faculty dormitory. His heavy breathing and the act of rubbing his eyes were interrupted by a jolt of energy akin to consuming a large jar of vitality tonic.

"Ah, fortunate little witch!" Lockhart exclaimed with a gleeful smile, returning to his desk. He retrieved a magnificent peacock quill from the pen holder and began writing with great fervor.

"Congratulations on receiving my response a day earlier!"

"It's truly challenging to deal with," Bryan muttered, his gaze fixed upon the voodoo doll with intricate markings. Finally, a relaxed smile crossed his face...

Author's Note: The things about wakadorga in the above text is a fiction, the place is also imaginary but if it matches with the name of a place then that is just a coincidence.

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