Chapter 217: Obscurus
Mr. Grevis surprisedly took the document, which felt warm to the touch with a strong ink smell, probably spat out from the printer half a minute ago.
A line of standard printed title was centered at the top, 「Judicial Autopsy Report」, with several columns below for basic information, external examination, external injuries, internal examination, toxicology, and supplementary report.
「Male, 42 years old, identity confirmed…」
「Height 179 cm, weight 70 kg…」
Mr. Grevis flipped through the autopsy report, his bloodshot eyes blinking, and couldn’t help but look up and ask: “Why is it still the English version?”
“The computer’s built-in translation system, otherwise how would I know where the print icon is?”
Melvin somehow produced disposable gloves, white nitrile material, snapping as he pulled them on, “Don’t waste time on these irrelevant issues, hurry up and open it to check if there are any magic-inflicted wounds on him.”
“Cut open and sewn back, now opening again…”
Mr. Grevis shook his head, his lips moving as he pinched his fingers to make a cross, silently praying for the deceased. Wizards generally didn’t believe in God, but considering the deceased was a Muggle, Grevis respected his faith.
Two snaps as he put on the medical gloves, fitting his hands perfectly, so thin they barely affected touch. The dead flesh was slick and cold, without any elasticity, and with the freezer temperature too low, Mr. Grevis couldn’t help shivering.
Melvin glanced at him and said flatly: “Don’t worry about damaging the body, just use the Repairing Charm on him later.”
Grevis’s temple twitched slightly. In a way, this was a piece of magical trivia: many spells couldn’t act directly on living beings but could be used on corpses, with the Repairing Charm and Levitation Charm as classic examples.
After opening the chest and abdomen, the two discovered that forensic examiners not only had to endure psychological pressure but also physical strain. Various lifeless blood and fat laid out before them, the cold tones delivering visual shock, the nose filled with the smell of chemical agents mixed with dead flesh, causing strong discomfort in the digestive system.
Fortunately, the Iron Armor Bubble’s shielding was very effective, so Melvin didn’t have to endure the torment of the strange smell.
“Why are the spleen and liver both ruptured?”
Grevis looked at the organs inside the body; the cold, hard organs had irregular cracks everywhere, with traces of dried blood, and some blood clots still visible.
“It says on the paper, died of blunt trauma from a fight, internal organs ruptured with massive bleeding. He was probably beaten to death alive?” Melvin poked the organs with one hand while flipping through the file with the other, “Check his back and spine; the report mentions strange bruising, color and shape different from other wounds.”
“Aren’t they all wounds?” Grevis muttered.
They slightly lifted the cold-emitting body, turned it over, and checked the back and spine as indicated in the report, immediately seeing that strange bruise: an irregular oval, pitch black like ink, penetrating several centimeters under the skin, instinctively suggesting deadly poison, but the toxicology section said no abnormalities.
Melvin’s eyes narrowed slightly; he sensed faint magic fluctuations.
The wound bruise was pitch black like ink, clearly caused by some Dark Magic, yet without the unmasked cruelty of the Killing Curse, nor the malice of Shedding the Shadow or Cruciatus Curse, not even the pure ravage of Fiendfyre.
In his perception, it was just ordinary magic power, the bruise exuding a barbaric, rough feel, without obvious tendencies, like concentrated magic power bursting out violently, with no technique or control whatsoever.
Could it be some magical creature?
Melvin pondered the wound for a moment, then snapped back to see Mr. Grevis frozen in place, eyes dazed, expression slightly blank, as if lost in some distant memory.
“Mr. Grevis, Mr. Grevis?”
Melvin waved his hand up and down in front of him, pulling his thoughts back to reality, “Did you remember something? Any clues?”
Strange light flowed in Grevis’s bloodshot eyes. He removed his right glove and gently touched the wound: “I’ve seen this kind of wound before—no, photos of this kind of wound… In fact, this is the first time I’ve seen it in real life.”
“There were similar Dark Magic cases before?”
Melvin examined the bruise-like wound, thinking that young Riddle still lacked authority; this Dark Magic that had appeared before, the Dark Lord surprisingly didn’t recognize it.
“I’ve seen photos of this wound many times, all in my father’s study.”
Grevis said softly, “For the past fifty years, he investigated that case relentlessly, more obsessed in his later years, refusing to stop after retirement, constantly investigating outside and unwilling to come home, causing much unpleasantness with my mother.”
“Your father… Percival Grevis?”
Melvin’s heart stirred slightly; many puzzles instantly cleared up.
This name appeared in many magazines, newspapers, even history books, often linked to that old case fifty years ago, the most severe and egregious magic exposure incident in centuries, a catastrophe that nearly destroyed all of New York, exposing the Ministry of Magic bare to Muggles.
Grevis removed his left glove and nodded slightly.
Percival Grevis was the Grevis Family’s genius. At 11, during Ilvermorny’s sorting ceremony, he was acknowledged by the Thunderbird, Pukwudgie, and Wampus house statues. He went on to be Prefect and President, showing talent young in Charms, Transfiguration, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, never losing a duel to his peers.
By fifth year, he could duel seventh-year wizards. After graduation, he became an Auror, unafraid of any Dark Wizard. At twenty, he encountered a fugitive Dark Wizard group, single-handedly holding off 7 Dark Wizards until Woolworth Building reinforcements arrived.
Percival clearly had potential to be President of the Congress, yet he chose frontline Dark Magic crime fighting, steadily in the Director of Security position, while fully supporting the equally young Picquery’s campaign, rapidly growing the Grevis Family’s wealth and power during that period.
In 1926, traces of an Obscurus briefly appeared in New York. Ghost reporters captured blurry photos, drawing attention from wizards worldwide. As Director of Magical Security, Percival investigated the Obscurus case while maintaining wizarding law and order in New York.
But no one anticipated that the wizards drawn by the Obscurus, besides curious travelers and reporters, included the Leader of the Wizarding Party—
Gellert Grindelwald.
That evening, returning home alone after work, Percival was ambushed by Grindelwald. Facing this world-famous Dark Wizard, he instantly lost resistance, allowing Grindelwald to take his wand and magically torture out his hard-earned investigation results.
Most importantly, watching helplessly as Grindelwald plucked his hair, drank Polyjuice Potion, and disguised as Percival.
What followed is detailed in the International Confederation of Wizards’ report.
Using Percival’s identity, Grindelwald freely entered the Woolworth Building, Apparated around New York City at will, quickly pinpointing the Obscurus host’s activity range and the group suspected of hiding the Obscurus host’s identity: the New Salem Philanthropic Society.
“Second Salem back then hadn’t mixed with the Purifiers yet. That president Mary was a Barebone descendant; her ancestor had toyed with the Witch of the Twelve Trees’ affections, learning of wizards and magic from her…
“Though Mary was just a Muggle, she stubbornly spread wizard threat theory, distributing flyers everywhere, incessantly disturbing local residents. But Muggles saw her adopting several children and thought she was using gimmicks to raise funds for the orphanage, tolerating her.
Mr. Grevis paused, “The Obscurus host, Credence Barebone, was one of her adopted orphans.”
Grindelwald, as Percival, observed for a long time but still couldn’t confirm the true Obscurus host. But the Leader of the Wizarding Party was adept at manipulating hearts; he deceived Credence with lies, making him work for him to find the true Obscurus host.
After a series of coincidences and farce, Grindelwald’s lies were exposed. Credence fell into rage and despair, releasing the true Obscurus. The powerful, uncontrollable force swept the city, nearly destroying half of New York and exposing magic to Muggles.
Later, with help from Newt Scamander and others, President Picquery joined Aurors to cast spells eliminating Credence. Enraged, Grindelwald attacked the Aurors, his disguise exposed, and he was arrested on the spot.
Muggles’ memories were erased by Swooping Evil venom, the matter resolved successfully, but for the true Director of Magical Security, Percival Grevis, his ordeal was just beginning.
The Obscurus devastated half of New York; buildings and roads could be repaired, but some severely injured Muggles could not be saved. Facing this most serious magic exposure in centuries, the captured Grindelwald couldn’t bear all the blame; the Ministry of Magic needed someone internal to take responsibility—or be the scapegoat.
Several Congress members blamed the casualties on Percival.
“They said it was all due to my father’s negligence, allowing Grindelwald to infiltrate the Woolworth Building, triggering the subsequent disaster: Credence out of control, Obscurus catastrophe, magic exposure… all Grevis’s fault.”
Mr. Grevis wearily leaned on the freezer, exhaustion from the sleepless night surging, nearly swallowing him whole. “Though other congressmen didn’t accept such absurd reasoning, the Grevis Family was forever nailed to the pillar of shame, never recovering.”
New Salem truly was the Grevis Family’s disaster star.
“Don’t zone out here; let’s go to the scene and find clues to root them out.” Melvin patted his shoulder, like consoling a Hogwarts student, “In two years is the International Confederation of Wizards conference; this time write in your report that Grevis saved Paris.”
“Grevis… saved Paris!”
Mr. Grevis looked up, flames bursting in his pupils.
…
“Clang… clang…”
The subway passing stations roared deafeningly.
“Philippe II station, Philippe II station…”
Grevis stood before the subway map, silently reciting while searching. His already fatigued eyes grew more sore; the just-ignited passionate flame extinguished. He vowed inwardly: if he couldn’t find the route, he’d tattoo the map on his knee upon return!
“How long do you plan to stare here?”
Turning back, sure enough Melvin, faint smile on his face, two subway tickets already in hand.
“You’re sure these are tickets to Philippe II station?”
“Sure, Line 2; I asked.”
“Don’t you speak French?”
“The caretaker speaks English.”
“…”
Grevis fell silent.
Minutes later, they entered the carriage, the subway clanging toward Philippe II station in Paris’s 20th arrondissement; the scene was at Père Lachaise Cemetery.
“An Obscurus is a special magical creature; that’s what Newt Scamander says in his book.”
In the crowded carriage, Mr. Grevis leaned against the window, fast-moving lights and shadows outside. “When little wizards haven’t yet learned to harness and control their power, suffering unbearable torment, feeling pain and despair, thus rejecting magic, unconsciously suppressing magic power’s flow and release. Under this subtle influence, magic power transforms into a dark force, continuously parasitizing and devouring the host’s life.”
The soul is the source of magic power; emotions connect to the soul—this was Melvin’s insight from the Horned Serpent.
Magic changes subtly based on the caster’s emotions: joyful positive emotions birth Patronuses, dark negative desires lure into the Dark Magic abyss. Casting Unforgivable Curses requires intense hatred and malice, while intense rejection of magic is also an emotion, prompting unknowable changes in magic.
Hogwarts and Ilvermorny libraries both have related materials. Melvin had browsed them before; due to scarce case studies, the magical principle of Obscurus transformation remains unknown, descriptions mere summaries of records.
Obscuruses usually lack physical form, appearing as black granular thick fog or oily substance, like weightless fluid moving in air, sometimes with a scarlet core, sometimes showing the host’s blurred face, like gray-white eyeless eyes.
When manifesting, they unleash powerful ravaging energy around them, unlike magic power or other forces: hard to control, hard to observe, with extreme destructiveness—even without contact, splintering hard wood, rock, and steel.
An Obscurus’s scale and power depend on the host’s inner strength; more accumulated negative emotions mean stronger host magic power and stronger Obscurus.
“…Second Salem is just Muggles without magic. The Purifiers have Dark Wizards, but their descendants can’t attend proper magic schools, relying on single-line inheritance to teach new Purifiers, utterly unable to fight Aurors trained at Ilvermorny.
“In this situation, to defeat true wizards…”
Melvin paused, calmly stating the conclusion: “They turned their eyes to the Obscurus.”
Mr. Grevis gripped his wand in his sleeve, eyes reddening, expression turning somewhat ferocious.
