Chapter 30: Just Looking, Not Learning

The moon hung high in a sky filled with twinkling stars.

Inside a quiet little cabin, soft silver light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting dappled shadows on the wooden floor. A faint scent of pine lingered in the air, blending with the crisp coolness of the night.

At an old oak desk—one that might have been older than him—Ian sat upright, holding his elder wand in one hand. The soft glow at its tip illuminated the forbidden book lying open before him.

"Advanced Secrets of the Dark Arts."

Penned by the infamous dark wizard of a bygone era, Orle Brock, this book was considered the Dark Arts Bible. Throughout the late 20th century, its sinister presence had been felt behind many of the wizarding world's most catastrophic events.

Even Voldemort, the name that sent shivers down spines, had drawn power from its pages. It was this very book that planted the seeds for the Seven Steps of Magic, a path that ultimately defined his rise to terror.

Most people only knew one thing:

Voldemort learned the secret of Horcruxes from this book, mastering the dark ritual to split his soul into seven fragments, ensuring his survival—even in defeat.

However…

That was far from the only dangerous knowledge contained within these pages.

The book held more than just the means to create Horcruxes. Its pages whispered of forbidden spells, magic so powerful and corrupting that the wizarding world had chosen to erase its existence from common knowledge. But due to the constraints of the original story, many of these secrets remained hidden from readers.

And now…

By sheer luck—or perhaps misfortune—this banned tome sat quietly before Ian.

Curiosity burned within him.

He knew well that every spell in this book carried risks. Dark magic was deemed forbidden not just because of its destructive power, but because of its insidious influence over its wielder.

After all…

There were many powerful spells in the world.

But true dark magic didn't just harm others—it corrupted those who wielded it.

A single misstep…

And one could lose themselves completely.

Many of Voldemort's Death Eaters had descended into madness, their minds twisted beyond recognition. It was difficult to say how much of it was due to their own incompetent dabbling in dark magic rather than sheer devotion to their master. After all, their leader himself had warped his own form beyond recognition in pursuit of power.

Ian tapped his fingers lightly against the desk, deep in thought.

"Would Grindelwald really hand something this dangerous to his own bloodline?"

His knowledge of Gellert Grindelwald, the first Dark Lord, was limited to scattered mentions in the original story. Even the History of Magic textbook he had skimmed through earlier had barely provided any useful details.

It was clear, however, that this chapter of history was one the wizarding world preferred to forget.

But one thing stood out.

Grindelwald, unlike Voldemort, had never been described as insane.

He was a dark wizard.

An ambitious visionary.

A ruthless supremacist.

A man who had plunged an era into chaos.

Yet, even his greatest enemies had never dismissed him as a madman.

And unlike Voldemort, Grindelwald treated his followers with far more care.

This alone convinced Ian that the book Grindelwald had prepared for his successor wouldn't contain something that would recklessly destroy them.

That said…

For a child barely old enough to attend Hogwarts to be studying a book like "Advanced Secrets of the Dark Arts"…

That was more than a little concerning.

"Knowledge might be dangerous, but knowledge itself is never evil."

After a long internal debate, Ian finally let out a slow breath.

Then, with a mix of trepidation and anticipation, he flipped open the first page.

Many wizards would spend their entire lives searching for just a glimpse of the knowledge contained within these pages.

And now, it was all laid bare before him.

The temptation was impossible to ignore.

Ian wasn't interested in soul-splitting rituals—he had no desire to touch Horcruxes.

But he did want to complete his knowledge of the Unforgivable Curses.

After all…

Hogwarts was far from safe.

Even if he didn't intend to interfere with the fate of the Chosen One, simply being at Hogwarts was already dangerous enough.

Having a few extra means of self-defense wouldn't hurt.

"I'll read critically. I'll analyze objectively. This isn't about seeking power—it's just like how a certain 'supreme leader' critically plays Steam games and objectively drives a luxury car."

With that rather dubious justification…

Ian adjusted his grip on his wand and leaned in closer to the book.

Compared to dim candlelight, Lumos provided a more stable and brighter light source. It also helped him sharpen his spellwork—a practical habit he had developed over time.

There were enchanted lighting devices in the wizarding world, of course—like the Deluminator.

A brilliant alchemical invention, capable of stealing and releasing light at will.

But…

That was far beyond his current budget.

And frankly…

Could it increase his spell proficiency like Lumos did?

Absolutely not.

So why waste money?

"I'm just looking. Not learning. Or at least… I'll try to learn as little as possible."

Muttering a highly questionable self-reassurance under his breath, Ian brought the tip of his wand closer to the book.

Being a modern compilation of dark magic, the text was far easier to read than ancient runic grimoires. Though it contained remnants of older magic, its structure followed the conventions of contemporary spellcraft, making comprehension relatively smooth.

And sure enough—his hunch had been correct.

The first page was covered in detailed notes and strict warnings, neatly written in elegant script.

Not just that.

Every single spell and theory had additional annotations and explanations, thoroughly dissecting the mechanics and implications of the magic within.

It was a personalized textbook—one clearly tailored for a successor.

Possibly even more valuable than the original text itself.

Just as he suspected, the creation of Horcruxes took up only a small section of the book.

It seemed that even the original author hadn't considered Horcruxes to be that significant.

Instead, the book was overflowing with other dark spells—an arsenal of knowledge far more expansive than Ian had anticipated.

The structure of the book was meticulous.

From basic principles to advanced techniques, it was arranged in a gradual progression, ensuring that a reader wouldn't recklessly leap into danger.

On the very first page, there was a spell marked as:

"Simple and low-risk."

"Most effective when used with the Elder Wand."

Ian's eyes scanned over the incantation.

"Osteo Requiem…"

Lost in concentration…

He failed to realize he was still holding his wand.

At the same time…

He underestimated both Grindelwald's teaching quality and… his own talent.

—[Necrotic Control (Lv.1): 2/100]—

Before he could react, a chill ran down his spine.

A rush of raw magic surged through his wand—unnaturally clear and sharp.

Ian's eyes widened in horror.

At the tip of his wand…

The soft white light of Lumos flickered—

—And then turned an eerie, sickly green.

A haunting glow spread through the room.

Creeeak… Creeeak… Creeeak…

The old wooden floorboards beneath him…

Began to move.