Dumbledore never once looked toward the corpses of the werewolf wizards outside.
Frankly, he could already guess most of what had happened here.
What truly concerned him was something else entirely.
Why was an eleven-year-old child so terrifyingly skilled at using the Unforgivable Curses?
On this point, Lucas's earlier judgement had been completely correct.
As Dumbledore entered the tent, his gaze briefly passed over Nagini resting near the entrance.
The giant snake immediately raised her head warily.
She didn't recognise Dumbledore personally, but instinct alone told her the old man was extremely dangerous.
Dumbledore merely glanced at her once before calmly continuing inside without comment.
"The inside of this tent," he observed mildly, "is considerably more impressive than the outside."
Lucas coughed awkwardly.
To be fair, he had only just repaired the tent itself. The interior remained completely empty because events outside had escalated before he had time to arrange anything properly.
Dumbledore casually flicked his wand.
Several broken wooden fragments lying nearby instantly transformed into three elegant chairs and a small round table.
Then he flicked his wand again.
"On warm evenings," he said pleasantly, "I find chilled pumpkin juice quite refreshing."
Three glasses of iced pumpkin juice appeared on the table instantly.
Lucas stared blankly.
So this was the difference between ordinary magic and true mastery.
"It's only a small trick," Dumbledore said with a faint smile before settling comfortably into one of the chairs. "Now then… I believe we can finally talk properly."
Then his gaze shifted toward Cassandra.
"And Miss Vole… your father is currently quite worried about your disappearance."
Cassandra froze slightly.
Clearly, Dumbledore already knew her family personally.
"Professor!" she blurted out immediately. "Lucas only used the Killing Curse to protect me!"
Instead of answering Dumbledore's question, she instinctively began defending Lucas first.
"The werewolves wanted to capture me and feed me to their leader!"
Lucas felt genuinely touched.
Dumbledore raised one hand gently.
"Please calm yourself, Miss Vole. I have no intention of sending Lucas to Azkaban."
Then he added mildly:
"Besides, I am not an Auror. And this is Albania, not Britain. The British Ministry of Magic holds no authority here."
Only after reassuring Cassandra did Dumbledore turn his attention fully back toward Lucas.
"Actually…" Lucas began hesitantly, "I don't remember much from before about half a month ago."
That part was entirely true.
The original owner's memories before the final weeks remained fragmented and incomplete.
And Lucas absolutely did not dare exaggerate in front of Dumbledore. The old wizard could probably infer the approximate timing and nature of various curses simply by examining his body.
Sure enough, Dumbledore asked quietly:
"May I see your injuries, my boy?"
Lucas nodded before slowly removing his shirt.
The moment his pale skin became visible—
Both Dumbledore and Cassandra froze.
His body was covered in scars.
Not one or two.
Hundreds.
Burn marks.
Cuts.
Whip-like wounds.
Dark traces left behind by lingering curses.
The original owner hadn't only suffered under Crucio.
Rex and the other werewolves had clearly experimented with countless forms of dark magic torture over the past six months.
Some curse damage still hadn't faded completely even now.
Even Lucas himself had once found it unbelievable that the original owner managed surviving that long.
Especially after the memories slowly resurfaced more clearly.
The boy who originally owned this body had truly endured unimaginable suffering.
"Oh… my God…"
Cassandra's voice trembled badly.
Her eyes immediately filled with tears again while staring at the horrific scars across Lucas's body.
"They… they did this to you?"
Her chest hurt painfully just looking at them.
"And you still went after them afterwards?"
She couldn't understand it.
Even with injuries this severe, Lucas had still willingly risked his life rescuing others.
Lucas nodded quietly.
"There are still children imprisoned like I was," he said softly. "I had to save them."
Dumbledore's expression softened considerably.
"Saving those children is not solely your responsibility, Lucas."
"But…" Lucas lowered his head slightly. "I didn't know who else I could ask for help."
Then he added quietly:
"I couldn't even remember who I was."
As they spoke, Dumbledore lightly tapped his wand against several of the darker scars.
Golden magic spread gently across Lucas's skin while removing lingering curse residue.
The relief was immediate.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Lucas's body truly felt lighter.
"Have some pumpkin juice," Dumbledore said kindly. "It's quite good chilled."
Then his tone became calmer.
"As for the remaining children, leave that matter to me. I promise they will be rescued."
His blue eyes blinked behind the half-moon spectacles.
"You may trust me in that."
Lucas nodded silently.
After spending several more moments removing the lingering curse traces, Dumbledore finally returned his full attention to him.
"Now then," he said gently, "could you tell me how you escaped?"
Lucas immediately understood.
Dumbledore's Legilimency had started again.
Thankfully, his Occlumency remained fully active.
"I… don't really understand what happened myself," Lucas said carefully.
"When that man was torturing me, black mist suddenly started pouring out of my body."
As he spoke, he deliberately visualised an edited version of the memory in his mind.
"I transformed into black smoke somehow… and escaped from the cage."
That part was technically true.
Only the details had changed slightly.
In reality, Lucas had first used Imperio on Rex before taking the wand.
But that definitely wasn't something he intended revealing.
"Afterwards," Lucas continued calmly, "I took his wand once he collapsed."
Dumbledore's expression suddenly changed.
"Black mist?"
His blue eyes sharpened instantly.
"And you remained conscious while transformed?"
For the first time since entering the tent, genuine shock appeared openly on Dumbledore's face.
Because he had recognised it immediately.
An Obscurus.
....
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