Alice and Frank on their hospital beds had no awareness whatsoever of what they were about to experience. Bathed in the silver starlight, they were trapped in the deepest, most horrifying endless nightmares. Their faces had turned haggard from years of such internal suffering.

“Let me examine the memories you’ve collected, Headmaster Dumbledore,”

In the dim room, Dumbledore waved his wand in a series of patterns, and a shallow stone basin carved with ‘True Runes’ around its rim, appeared silently in the space in front of Bryan.

The basin contained a silvery substance appeared to be simultaneously liquid and gaseous, possessing properties that seemed to shift between states of matter as one watched. The memories formed a shining pool that nearly overflowed the basin’s rim, yet remained contained within by the mysterious magical forces in the Pensieve.

“You’ve already taken the time to sort through and organize them?” Bryan asked in surprise, looking at the Pensieve that was now illuminating the dim ward with its silver-white radiance.

‘Working with a wizard of comparable skill was indeed quite effortless.’

“It appears there are no problems with the memory collection,” Bryan observed with satisfaction, nodding his approval as he observed the swirling contents. He then turned to face Dumbledore’s attentively listening face.

“The procedure consists of two main steps, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Bryan began. “The first step, as you already know requires us to completely purge the memories that have become intertwined with malicious thoughts and evil magic from the Longbottoms’ spiritual and mental worlds within their damaged minds.

These corrupted memories cannot be recovered by any means—this process goes far beyond the relatively simple surface-level memory modification done using a standard Memory Charm or even the more advanced Obliviation techniques. What we must do is delve directly into their mental worlds and erase everything that has been contaminated by the torture they endured.”

Bryan’s expression grew even more solemn as he continued, “This is precisely why I need your assistance and expertise, Headmaster Dumbledore. In my previous attempts, I once tried to purify that Muggle’s corrupted mental world using pure magical power alone but it was completely useless against this level of psychological and spiritual damage.”

He began to pace slightly, his hands clasped behind his back as he gathered his thoughts. “The Cruciatus Curse, you see, belongs to an entirely different category of magic—it can be referred to as ‘Soul Magic.’ The malicious thoughts, intentions, and magical energies it contains operate on a level that goes beyond simple spell damage.

They literally contaminate the victim’s soul itself, creating a corruption that must be eliminated using power drawn from a higher dimensional plane of existence.”

Bryan stopped pacing and focused on Dumbledore with an intense stare. “The ability to wield the power of the soul’s essence is far beyond my capability. I haven’t successfully crossed that limit like you have. It’s only through my research into the ‘Blood Curses’ and their connections to soul magic that I’ve managed to discover certain ‘tricks’ that can trigger and channel the soul’s essential power for brief periods.”

Dumbledore listened to this explanation in complete silence, but his actions spoke louder than words. Without any spoken response, he simply began rolling up his sleeves a bit higher than before.

“The second step of the procedure,” Bryan continued, glancing at the Pensieve that had been placed on the floor between the two hospital beds, “involves the process of returning those collected memories to them. Of course, this process is far from simple either, this isn’t just about pouring memories into their brains.

We need to delve deeply into their reconstructed mental worlds and carefully utilize each soul’s own innate personality structure…. I cannot explain the process clearly, Headmaster Dumbledore. This is uncharted territory in magic. In any case, you’ll see.”

Dumbledore’s vast accumulation of magical knowledge was so deep that he didn’t require Bryan to provide further detailed explanations. His mind had already grasped the important concepts being described and understood how to proceed.

“I find myself very much looking forward to it,” Dumbledore replied with enthusiasm. “So, Bryan, shall we…. begin this?”

“I’ll ‘handle’ Frank, Alice is in yours hands.”

After making this division of labor clear, both men moved to take their positions at the bedsides of the Longbottom couple. After exchanging a solemn glance with Dumbledore, Bryan fixed his gaze on Frank’s tightly closed eyes.

Suddenly, as if reality itself was shifting around them, the quiet hospital ward seemed to undergo a transformation. The ward now resembled the deck of a ship caught in the midst of a raging sea, with towering waves of pure magical energy crashing against invisible barriers that surrounded the room.

In the void, magical power roared thunderously due to violent changes. The changes in magical pressure and energy caused the ward’s four walls to ripple continuously like the surface of a pond disturbed by falling raindrops, while countless tiny bolts of lightning began to flicker around both Bryan and Dumbledore.

Crack-crack-crack!

The small thunderbolts that surrounded the two men occasionally shot in all directions nearly destroying everything in the ward that wasn’t specifically protected by their magical preparations. Fortunately, the Pensieve and the two hospital beds remained unharmed.

Almost simultaneously, Bryan’s sharp and focused gaze suddenly blazed with light. His eyes radiated substantial purple radiance that expanded to occupy nearly half of the ward’s available space.

On the opposite side of the ward, Professor Dumbledore’s presence began to cause the very space itself to tremble and vibrate. He moved his wrist in fluid, hypnotic motions and the intense clear light that emanated from his body flowed toward Alice’s.

Whoosh—

As if piercing through a curtain of water, the ward’s noise faded from his ears, and Bryan found himself standing—or perhaps floating, as the concepts of up and down seemed somewhat fluid in this space—within Frank Longbottom’s spiritual and mental world.

This was an ocean on the verge of drying up!

When Bryan looked down from his perspective and saw the sea of consciousness spread out below him like a dying world, understanding flooded through his mind.

High above in the sky that stretched endlessly, fireballs wrapped in pitch-black lightning were falling like meteors from some dark corner of outer space. Each of them crashed into the mental ocean below with destructive force that sent shockwaves through the entire landscape.

The impact of each fireball created towering waves across the surface of the mental sea, but these evil manifestations of the Cruciatus Curse’s influence didn’t immediately extinguish upon contact with the water. Instead, they floated above the water’s surface and continued to slowly evaporate the ‘seawater’ of Frank’s memories and personality with the heat of their fury and hatred.

But the seawater representing Frank’s essential self refused to simply disappear. The mental ocean would surge up to drag those floating fireballs down to the ocean floor where they might be extinguished, paying this enormous cost of its own annihilation to extinguish each ‘fireball.’.

This ongoing battle between Frank’s self and the malicious magic that had invaded his mind was probably the primary reason why Frank Longbottom’s temperament and personality had changed so drastically after his injury!

Bryan surveyed his surroundings gazing upon this harsh mental world that had become filled with rage, malicious thoughts, and felt a sense of mourning for what was about to be lost.

The procedure he was about to perform would indeed purify this space and eliminate the sources of Frank’s suffering, but it would also destroy what remained of Frank Longbottom’s original personality and memories.

“Farewell to the past, Frank,” Bryan whispered into the howling winds of the mental storm. “But through this ending, you will welcome a true rebirth into the life and love that were stolen from you.”

As he whispered these words, Bryan’s body gradually became ethereal and translucent, as if he were dissolving into pure energy, before disappearing completely from perception.

The moment Bryan’s human form vanished from Frank’s turbulent mental world, the entire landscape suddenly erupted into even more violent upheaval than before. It was as if some enormous entity were preparing to descend here, and its approaching presence, its massive ‘gravitational’ influence was shaking everything that existed within this mental space.

Above the nearly dried mental sea, a single point of pure white light appeared. This light was not blazing or harsh like the fireballs that had been tormenting Frank’s consciousness. Instead, it possessed an infinite gentleness.

However, this very gentleness and purity triggered terror in everything that had existed within this corrupted mental world.

The deep, ominous sky became increasingly restless and agitated. Every few seconds, several new fireballs emerged from the void with shrieking, banshee-like sounds that spoke of rage and desperation.

But these manifestations of the curse’s influence no longer rushed mindlessly toward the mental ocean below. Instead, recognizing the true threat to their existence, they surged up toward the newborn milky-white halo that now was suspended in the mid-air.

Simultaneously, the mental sea itself also began to churn. Wave after wave rose from the surface creating an overwhelming assault on the gentle white halo.

But just as Bryan had discovered during his first journey into Pastore’s damaged mental world—

Pure mental power and conventional magic simply could not eradicate the malicious thoughts and corrupted memories that had ravaged this mental world and contaminated the surface of Frank’s soul. The evil influences were too deeply embedded into the structure of his consciousness to be removed by force alone.

But by the same function, these evil thoughts and memories, fused with the remnants of Frank’s original personality could not interfere with or damage power that originated from a higher dimensional plane of existence.

They could rage and struggle all they wanted, but they were incapable of touching something that operated on the level of pure soul magic.

The mental sea, acting entirely on its own initiative and driven by the natural fear of complete destruction, was equally powerless to interfere with this level of intervention.

The resulting scene was truly apocalyptic in scope and intensity, with everything of Frank’s mental world arranging its remaining strength in a final, desperate attempt to erase the white halo that seemed to exist in an entirely different dimension from everything else in this space.

Fireballs streaked through the sky like falling stars, waves crashed upward with the force of tsunamis.

But despite the tremendous sound and fury of this last stand, it was utterly useless. The white halo continued to grow steadily, expanding from its initial manifestation as just a point of light to something resembling a moon-like disc.

Within the expanding circle of milky-white light was a—

Bryan’s form began to appear in a way that was not easy to describe. He was no longer recognizably human in shape or appearance, but had instead transformed into something composed completely of living light.

The form he had taken was that of a golden serpent, its elongated body shimmering with scales that seemed to contain the light of captured stars. But this was no ordinary snake as it had black and white feathered wings.

Bryan had manifested in the same form as his Patronus.

This was the Feathered Serpent—Quetzalcoatl of ancient Mesoamerican legend and mythology, a divine creature that had once been worshipped as a god of learning, wind, and the morning star.

Slowly, Bryan opened his purple eyes and began to twist and coil his body through the air which looked rather unnatural and forced. Though this was his second time, he still wasn’t accustomed to this appearance and found it quite difficult to control.

In the timeless mental world, after struggling for what felt like ages, Bryan finally managed to fully unfurl his body. He gazed at the apocalyptic mental world, and his purple eyes showed no ripples— they held a tranquility so perfect and complete that it would remain unmoved even by the end of all things

Whoosh.

The Feathered Serpent flapped its wings, and an invisible yet substantial current of air emerged. The fireballs, ocean, and even the space itself touched by this breeze had their dark, corrupted tones completely and instantly disappear. In their place was left something flawless and pure, transformed into perfect white light like pencil drawings being erased from white paper.

This current of purification was incredibly resilient and thorough, swiftly traversing every corner of the boundless mental world. Wherever the cleansing breeze passed, everything was completely purified without any trace.

The dim and twisted mental world grew visibly brighter and more transparent with each passing moment.

But this tremendous act of purification seemed to drain Bryan’s energy reserves significantly. His body began to curl up again, coiling in on itself as if seeking comfort and rest. A weariness began to show in his purple eyes and he even yawned in this form.

At the same time, his body began to fade around the edges, becoming translucent and ethereal as if he were eager to fall into the deep sleep.

Interestingly, this was not a matter of one force growing stronger as the other weakened—both the Feathered Serpent and the remnants of corruption that had been polluting the mental world were weakening simultaneously.

After the final speck of contaminated dust in this now pure and flawless mental world had completely disappeared, the magnificent Feathered Serpent vanished, and Bryan’s consciousness returned to his body in the St. Mungo’s ward and he opened his eyes.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep