Chapter 304 A Dementor's Touch in the Market - Hogwarts : Max Level Unforgivable Curse

"My lord," said Borgin, his voice dripping with that oily politeness only a truly greasy character can manage, "the potions factory is up and running, but we haven't settled on a proper name for our concoctions yet. We're in the testing phase, you see, and there are already so many people clamouring for our potions."

Borgin's smile widened. "What do you think? Should we establish a proper brand? A name for it, of course, would need to be chosen by you."

The dark lord, Dylan, thought for a moment before giving a nod. "Let's call it X·Y. And for the first line of products, something fitting... 'Gilded Decadence'."

Borgin's face lit up like a firework. "Oh, brilliant! Your chosen name is truly inspired! It sounds absolutely magnificent and is sure to fly off the shelves once we're officially in business!"

Dylan then moved on to the next topic. "And what about Lupin? He's a professor at Hogwarts, so he must be competent. What's he making right now?"

"Fifty Galleons a month, my lord," Borgin replied instantly.

"That's not exactly a fortune," Dylan mused.

He figured with his own coffers filling up at a rate that would make Gringotts goblins blush, that paltry sum was a pittance.

"Raise his wages to one hundred Galleons a month. Give him a little incentive to work harder."

He knew the man was strapped for cash and probably couldn't even afford his Wolfsbane Potion otherwise. The irony wasn't lost on him—he was the one brewing it for Professor Snape, who then sold it to Lupin.

A wry smirk touched Dylan's lips. "I have another potion recipe right here. You can take it and have your people look into it."

Borgin's eyes gleamed at the mention of a new recipe. A new potion, after all, was like a golden goose. That's why he was so devoted to his new master, so willing to abandon his own shop to become this dark wizard's financial advisor. He barely kept the Borgin and Burkes shop open these days, much to the displeasure of the Dark Wizards who came looking for rare items. Not that he cared. Anyone who complained could just be put to work in the factory as a labourer.

"As you command, my lord."

"Also, increase the wages for our skilled workers by thirty percent, and for the regular workers by fifteen percent."

"And while you're at it, let's change the work hours. Six days a week, with a day off on Sundays, and an extra day of paid leave each month, which they can save up if they wish."

As soon as he finished speaking, a new message from his internal system popped up.

---

[Achievement]: The Kind-Hearted Entrepreneur

[Description]: A Dark Lord with a conscience? Unbelievable!

[Requirement]: Show compassion for your employees, improve their conditions, and earn their gratitude.

[Reward]: +20% increase in business profits!

---

Dylan blinked in surprise. Then, he instructed Borgin to start planning to move the factory abroad. After all, the Ministry of Magic was already after him, even if they couldn't find him. Borgin and Delphini were also on the Ministry's radar, so any big business ventures in Britain would only bring unwanted attention and potential interference.

Once everything was settled, Dylan left the factory. He had no intention of letting the wizarding world know he was the real brains behind the X·Y potions brand.

### A Ghostly Family Reunion

Back home, Dylan entered his own private pocket of a world, appearing right in front of a small wooden house. He was immediately joined by Rowena Ravenclaw and her daughter, Helena. That's right, he had 'spirited' Helena away from Hogwarts. She looked at him with a mournful expression.

Rowena, however, was beaming. "Dylan, I can't believe you brought my daughter to me."

Helena just stood there, her head bowed in embarrassment. She had, in fact, had a good cry the night before. She was prepared to fade away forever, but instead, Dylan had brought her to this place, and before she could even process it all, her mother appeared. It was a proper shock, followed by a tearful reunion for the two of them—though, being ghosts, they couldn't exactly cry.

"No big deal," Dylan said with a shrug. "I figured it was better than letting her fade away. And who knows, she might not want to leave once she's seen you." He looked at Helena. "So, do you still want to disappear?"

Helena scoffed, giving him an annoyed look. "No! Why would I? I'm staying right here!"

Dylan just shrugged. "That's your choice. But now that you're in, you can't really leave unless I allow it. I'm not letting you out of this place unless absolutely necessary."

Helena shook her head. "I don't care where I am."

"Good," Dylan replied.

Rowena's smile never faded. "The two vampires you brought back are well-behaved now," she said to Dylan.

He raised an eyebrow. He had caught the vampires in the Forbidden Forest, and being fascinated by their long-lived nature, had brought them back to his pocket world for study.

"Where are they?"

"With the Basilisk."

Dylan gave the two ghosts a wave. "I'll leave you two to your family reunion, then."

Rowena nodded, and she and Helena vanished. Dylan then headed toward the Basilisk's lair, a small valley that the massive serpent had carved out for itself.

The Basilisk wasn't there, but Dylan found the two vampires huddled in a shady spot.

"You two seem to be behaving yourselves," he said with a smirk.

The vampires' heads snapped up. Their eyes lit up at the sight of their master. They scrambled to their feet, then slid across the ground to kneel before him.

"Master, we now understand your greatness!"

"Yes, Master, you are so powerful and wise! We wish to be your most devoted servants!"

"We were blind! We couldn't see you were a true god!"

"We are unworthy of your presence, but we will dedicate our lives to you!"

"That's right! We will do whatever you ask!"

Dylan watched the two vampires practically tripping over themselves to show their loyalty and chuckled. He liked it when things were obedient. He handed them two dark red, sugar-coated 'blood lollipops'. They immediately grabbed them, their eyes wide with desire at the scent of fresh blood. The blood was just from some random critters he had popped like balloons. He could extract life force just as easily as he could for Voldemort, so a little bit of blood was a simple matter.

"Master, you are so powerful and benevolent. It is an honour to serve you!"

"Having you as our master is a blessing for all vampires!"

Dylan felt a flicker of amusement. These vampires were so much more pleasant to be around than Voldemort, who was like a sullen old house elf.

"Vampires seem to have so little blood in them compared to other creatures," Dylan said, reclining in a chair he conjured from thin air, tapping a finger on the armrest. "How do you make your blood supply last?"

He had a plan, you see. He wanted to make a potion for longevity, and vampire blood seemed like a key ingredient. He needed a way to get a continuous supply for his experiments.

"Master, it is difficult for us to increase our blood supply now," said one of the vampires, his voice full of regret. "To get more powerful and increase our blood supply, we have to drink the blood of other magical creatures or wizards."

Both vampires stared longingly at Dylan's wrist, their desperate eyes begging for a little taste.

Dylan was silent for a moment. He wasn't about to bleed himself dry for them. And there were hardly any magical creatures in his private world. Regular creatures wouldn't do anything for them, and he needed most of the rare magical blood for his own experiments.

But he had an idea. His new potion factory needed dragon's blood for many of its more advanced brews. He had already established a supply line for that. There would be a lot of scraps left over from the dragon blood processing, and with the scale of the X·Y factory, there would be more than enough for the two vampires.

"Don't worry," Dylan said slowly. "I'll get you the blood of magical creatures."

"Thank you, Master!"

"We are so grateful for your gift!"

The two vampires bowed low, practically worshipping the ground he walked on. They then kissed the hem of his robe. Dylan's lips twitched. These two were... very perceptive. He then took some of their blood—to their immense sorrow—before sending them on their way. He had a guest to receive.

### The Headmaster and the Moody Old Auror

Later that evening, Dylan was sitting at an oak desk in his study, going over notes on various herbs. The setting sun cast a golden glow through the window, and a gentle breeze swept white rose petals onto the stone path outside.

Suddenly, a steady, calm knock came from the front door. It wasn't the hurried knock of a regular visitor. Dylan put down his quill and headed to the front hall.

When he opened the heavy, carved wooden door, he found Albus Dumbledore standing there. The old wizard's robes were a soft grey, and his silver hair and beard were perfectly groomed. His half-moon spectacles sat on his nose, his blue eyes twinkling like warm sapphires behind the lenses. He carried a phoenix-feather wand in one hand and a bulging paper bag in the other, with what looked like candy wrappers peeking out from the top.

"Good evening, Dylan," Dumbledore said. "I hope I'm not interrupting your supper."

"Not at all, Professor Dumbledore. Please, come in," Dylan said, stepping aside to let him pass.

Dumbledore's robes swished as he entered, leaving a faint scent of lemon and sandalwood in the air. He didn't sit down right away, instead taking a moment to look around the manor's interior. The high ceiling in the front hall, the crystal chandelier casting a warm glow on the marble floor, the paintings of the estate in different seasons, and the winding walnut staircase with its intricate carvings.

"I must say, your manor reminds me of certain corners of Hogwarts, yet it has a warmth all its own," Dumbledore said, his eyes falling on a bronze statue of a dove in the corner. "The craftsmanship on this piece is exquisite. Has it been in your family long?"

"My father bought it for my mother," Dylan answered, leading him toward the sitting room. "Please, Professor, have a seat. I'll make some tea."

"Don't bother," Dumbledore said, turning his gaze toward the garden outside. The fountain gurgled in the twilight, and the neat rows of bushes and the distant glow from the greenhouse showed a well-tended and beautiful home.

He let out a soft chuckle. "Your garden is very well cared for, especially those white roses. They're a difficult breed to grow, but they thrive here. It's clear a lot of care has been put into this place."

"My mother loves them," Dylan said. "My father hired a lot of people to take care of them."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You come from a very loving family, it seems."

Dylan's mouth twitched. "You could say that."

Dumbledore walked to the window and pushed it open slightly. A breeze, carrying the scent of roses and damp earth, wafted into the room.

He turned back to Dylan, his eyes full of admiration. "To keep a manor so orderly, preserving its history while still making it feel like a home, is an impressive feat. Your parents are remarkable."

If having a small army of house elves and people to do it for you counts as 'remarkable', then sure, Dylan thought to himself. "Yes, they certainly are."

The glow of the chandelier fell upon Dumbledore's silver hair and Dylan's face, the atmosphere in the room becoming quite cosy.

"In that case," Dumbledore said, cutting to the chase, "do you have any plans this evening? I'd like to take you to see someone."

"Nothing pressing," Dylan replied, intrigued. "Who are we going to see?"

"Alastor Moody," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "An old friend and former Auror."

Chapter 305 - Chapter 304 A Dementor's Touch in the Market