Chapter 76 The Power of a Max-Level Spell
The excitement kept Vaughn from sleeping.
He rolled out of bed, and the drowsy Guoguocha yawned and jumped to his feet.
Looking at his double-digit reputation points, Vaughn was mesmerized for a while before he could barely control his excitement.
Take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.
Looking at the large number of spells he knew on the system panel, Vaughn began to consider how to allocate skill points.
The spell had already been chosen.
He is a very meticulous planner, and once he sets his mind on a plan, he will not easily waver. Although the "Dark Magic Cloak" gives him hope of mastering dark magic, it still needs to be verified for the time being, so he will not consider it.
We will continue to follow the original plan and prioritize our current main defensive and offensive methods.
Ironclad Curse and Disarming Curse!
Since entering level 4, improving these two spells has become increasingly difficult. In the first month after enrolling, he was able to improve by 1 or 2 points each week through diligent practice.
By December, there had been no improvement for an entire month.
Vaughn could sense that the current level of these two spells seemed to have reached the limit of his spell talent level 7. To push them to level 5, he would have to invest reputation points!
In the system's hierarchy, a spell reaching LV5 represents both the spell's maximum level and a mastery of the spell, reaching a level of unparalleled proficiency.
Although he currently only has the Occlumency spell at its maximum level, and this spell is limited by his expertise in memory, it has not shown any magical effects.
But Vaughn felt that a max-level spell should be more than just an increase in power.
Without further hesitation, he invested 15 reputation points to max out his Ironclad Charm and Disarm Charm.
He then picked up his wand and called out, "Fruit Tea, let's go try out some spells."
Guoguocha immediately perked up and followed him eagerly.
The man and his cat swaggered along, ignoring the curfew, until they reached the House of Requirement, where they encountered Mrs. Lorice and Peeves who were with her.
Upon seeing Vaughn, Peep cursed and ran away. Vaughn ignored it, gave Mrs. Lorris some tonic, and sent it off to cause trouble for the other night-roaming wizards.
Across from the tapestry depicting the troll beating Barnabas, Vaughn released his Occlumency, thinking he needed a room to practice spells.
Soon, the door to the Room of Requirement opened.
The Room of Requirement has several spell practice rooms, some large and some small.
I was lucky this time; I was randomly assigned to a large practice room.
It was almost the size of two classrooms, with more than a dozen wheeled training puppets scattered throughout the spacious area, each holding weapons such as swords, bows, and crossbows.
This large training room was enchanted; once someone entered, the puppets would awaken from their slumber.
As the puppets' eyes gradually glowed red and they rapidly glided around the arena on their wheels, Vaughn, who had been there several times before, knew they were waiting for him to use his spell.
He didn't use a wand, but instead gently waved his hand in front of him.
A suit of armor suddenly appeared around him, and Vaughn noticed the change in the appearance of the Armored Charm immediately.
Its original form was an illusory bubble or armor, but now, the max-level Ironclad Spell has completely changed its appearance.
Its current overall shape is somewhere between a bubble and armor, but in terms of specific details, layers of fine scales emerge on its surface.
It was as if a semi-transparent behemoth was enveloping Vaughn, protecting him from harm with its powerful scales and skin.
call out--
In the distance, a puppet fired a crossbow bolt.
This training ground, likely built in the Middle Ages, still retains the barbaric style of that era. Even during practice, real weapons were used, with sharp and menacing arrows.
But the lightning-fast arrow bounced away with a clang the moment it struck the Ironclad Spell.
Vaughn didn't move, and commanded, "Continue!"
Several melee puppets slid forward, wielding swords and blades to slash and thrust. The metal weapons struck the seemingly fragile iron armor, creating bursts of sparks.
The remotely mounted puppets in the distance were also constantly cocking their guns and firing.
But none of these attacks could shake the spell in the slightest.
It remained firmly suspended around Vaughn, showing no signs of being consumed.
While being beaten, Vaughn tried to understand the changes in the spell by connecting it with himself.
Before long, he opened his eyes, his fingers turned, and with a thought, the Ironclad Spell, which he had previously been unable to control after summoning, slowly began to rotate.
In an instant, it spun faster and faster, and its nature and function began to change. Several flying arrows had just hit it when they were immediately "captured" by the magic spell, which resembled a rotating hemisphere, and then reflected back.
In the distance, several ranged puppets that were stationary were instantly pierced by an arrow, with only one that was sliding escaping unscathed.
"This is a max-level spell..."
Feeling the armor enveloping him, Vaughn marveled inwardly at how the armor had blocked so many attacks without expending much power.
Then, he raised his right hand and, without a sound or staff, cast the disarming spell.
In an instant, a beam of red light as thick as an adult's arm surged out and crashed into a melee puppet, sending it flying.
At the same time, Vaughn, who already had experience controlling the Ironclad Charm, quickly established a connection with the Disarming Charm.
The spell's power, which would normally dissipate upon hitting its target, did not dissipate under his will. Instead, it suddenly split into more than a dozen snakes, gliding and bouncing across the ground and in the air like swimming snakes.
The whole scene resembled a spectacular fireworks display.
Almost every strike hit a puppet, which trembled as its weapons flew uncontrollably into the air and clattered to the ground.
The puppets' eyes flashed red as they stood still.
Vaughn looked at his hands with a surprised expression: "Is this what it feels like to have an extreme understanding of a spell, to be able to cast it at will... like controlling your own hands!"
He's suddenly gotten a bit arrogant.
I really want to run up to the eighth floor, wake up Dumbledore, and fight him!
Reason made Vaughn immediately forget this crazy idea. He was confident that he might have surpassed Dumbledore in terms of the Ironclad Charm and the Disarming Charm, but his magic power was not as strong as that old man's.
The tests were not comprehensive. For example, the effect of the Ironclad Curse in resisting magic was not as strong as that in resisting swords. In more intense and complex battlefield environments, the Disarming Curse still had the power to control the splitting.
However, Vaughn was still very happy.
He only calmed down after he noticed that his reputation points, which had been in the double digits, had returned to 7.
Still not rich enough!
After thinking for a moment, he allocated 5 of his remaining 7 points to Legilimency, raising it to LV2, as preparation for verifying the "Dark Magic Cloak" later.
"Hmm, I'll have Harry try out the Level 2 Legilimency tomorrow!"
It's decided then and there!
Harry must be very happy.
Achoo!
Harry's sneezing hasn't stopped since the morning of January 1st.
He went to the school hospital early in the morning, but Mrs. Pomfrey said he didn't have a cold.
This made Harry anxious, and Ron told him, "In the wizarding world, sneezing is not a good thing. It means someone is talking about you."
Then they looked at each other and simultaneously thought of their embarrassing experience last night. They quickly turned their heads away to avoid embarrassing themselves by digging holes in the floor.
Today is the last day of the Christmas holiday.
In the morning, Harry and Ron used all their focus and effort to finally finish their homework. They decided to cherish their last moments of freedom and have some fun.
Unfortunately, the weather was against them, and a blizzard started blowing outside the castle again.
In the end, they could only huddle in the common room, wasting their last half-day of vacation.
Ron pulled out the Wizarding Chess set, but he didn't play it himself. He had been playing against Harry for over ten days during the holidays and was almost sick of it—playing chess with a novice was a very painful thing.
Until Hermione returned.
As it turns out, no one is omnipotent; even someone as intelligent as Hermione has areas where she is completely unskilled.
Around the fireplace, Harry and Hermione, two terrible chess players, were locked in a fierce and sweaty game of chess.
Harry's queen, disheveled, was dragging the king and beating him violently. Two bishops rode on the front of their chariots, rampaging across their own chessboard, completely ignoring Harry's desperate cries.
Hermione's two knights, completely ignoring the enemy soldiers right in front of them, drew their swords and hacked at each other until they lost arms and legs. Then they suddenly reconciled and prepared to crawl back to cause trouble for the chess player, because the emotional Hermione cursed them as cowards.
Ron, watching from the sidelines, felt a heart attack: "Merlin—why haven't you made any progress at all? If you had just made one correct move, all the key pieces wouldn't have betrayed you!"
"Ron, shut up!" x2
Ultimately, the game ended in a draw—it simply couldn't continue. Harry's queen killed the king, and Hermione's two crippled knights, halfway up the mountain, suddenly changed their minds and, staggering, killed both the king and queen. They decided to revolt.
Ending the agonizing game, Hermione shoved the chessboard aside, deciding to banish this pastime forever.
Harry was unconvinced and wanted to continue.
Hermione quickly changed the subject, glancing around discreetly before asking, "Haven't we heard anything from the Man in Black during the Christmas holidays?"
Harry and Ron shook their heads: "No!"
"I wonder if Dumbledore has anyone he suspects..."
Hermione frowned with worry. Unlike Harry and Ron, who were carefree, the thought of a malevolent dark wizard lurking among the professor's group made her feel uneasy.
However, during her vacation, she had already considered all the professors. Most of them were just ordinary wizards who had worked at Hogwarts for a long time.
She even inquired with Professor McGonagall, mainly asking people who seemed mysterious and suspicious to her, such as Prophecy Professor Silby Trelawney.
Hermione still remembers Professor McGonagall's expression at that moment. Her face was deeply furrowed, as if she was forcing something as she said, "Miss Granger, you know I'm not one to speak ill of others, but Sylvie... she really doesn't meet my expectations for the Prophecy professor."
"You mean she can't predict the future, and is a fraud?"
"No, she can make prophecies, but she's also... well, not exactly a liar, she just enjoys a more theatrical style of performance..."
Professor McGonagall's explanation was halting and stammering.
Hermione didn't quite understand.
But at least she sensed that Professor Trelawney did not seem to possess the powerful magical abilities of the "Black-Robed Man".
Although she was reluctant to admit it, after thinking it over, Hermione increasingly realized...
The only person who best fits the description of the Man in Black is Snape!
She asked Harry, "Has Professor Snape been giving you trouble lately?"
"Hermione, we're on holiday, how can he cause me any trouble?"
Ron chimed in, "He seemed really busy lately, I hardly ever saw him before Christmas... Speaking of which, Vaughn was acting all mysterious around that time too, could they be working together on a wolfsbane potion?"
Hermione thought for a moment and said to Harry, "Harry, you're still learning Occlumency with Vaughn, right? I think you should find an opportunity to ask Vaughn if he's noticed anything unusual about Professor Snape... Why do you look like that?"
Actually, if she hadn't brought it up, Harry had planned to forget about it today...
He really didn't know how to face Vaughn.
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, Ron looking on with sympathy.
Hermione looked at them suspiciously: "Are you hiding something from me?"
The two shook their heads repeatedly: "No, absolutely not!"
Ron grabbed Harry's arm: "Harry, you're going to go find Vaughn, right?"
"You…" Harry's eyes widened at the betrayal of his friend, but under Ron's pleading and threatening gaze, fearing that Ron would self-destruct and drag him down with him, Harry had no choice but to swallow his anger and nod: "Okay, I'll ask him tonight."
Hermione temporarily set aside her suspicions about the two's strange behavior and said, "You ask first. If there's no result, I'll find another opportunity to talk to Vaughn."
That's how the matter was decided.
That night, although Harry tried his best to dawdle, Ron was afraid that if he continued to dawdle, Hermione would come to the boys' dormitory, so he pushed and shoved him out of the Gryffindor common room.
"Ronald! You're such a good friend!"
Harry angrily kicked the door a few times, which angered the fat lady, who scolded him severely. Harry had no choice but to run away to avoid being surrounded by the portraits.
I jogged to the Requirement Room, where Vaughn was already there.
It was still that cozy little house, perfect for reading. Vaughn held a thick book, "The Journey Through the Magic of Memory," a book Harry remembered.
He greeted him awkwardly, "Hi, good evening, Vaughn..."
To his relief, Vaughn didn't laugh at him, but casually pointed to the sofa opposite him and said, "Good evening, Harry, have a seat."
Harry sat down, determined to quickly ask Hermione the question she wanted him to ask, hoping to distract Vaughn and prevent him from bringing up yesterday's events.
"Vaughn, you've been with Snape the whole time, have you noticed him…"
To his surprise, before he could finish speaking, Vaughn, who was flipping through a book, replied, "Are you still guessing that he is the man in black?"
Harry scratched his head: "Uh, we thought about it for a long time, and we still think Snape is the most suspicious."
Vaughn shook his head, but this time he didn't defend the professor. Instead, he said, "I can help you investigate, but how do you plan to repay me?"
"Return, give back?"
Vaughn grinned broadly: "My mastery of Legilimency has improved again. Now I can try to modify memories. Harry, you don't mind helping me test it out, do you?"
Harry: "..."
He wanted to say that he was particularly bothered by it, but he didn't know if it was okay.
The holiday is over, the carefree days are gone, and the little wizard is back to the hellish life of studying.
The professors, who had been idle for half a month, seemed to be getting restless. On the first day after the holiday ended, they assigned a lot of homework to force the young wizards to break free from the relaxed atmosphere.
The results can be described as remarkable.
The little wizards who used to play and joke around in the courtyard a few days ago are becoming increasingly rare. Now, they are almost all holding textbooks, muttering spells with blank expressions.
Or they might hide in the library, sweating profusely while working on their papers.
In this tense atmosphere, a rumor quietly spread—the famous Harry Potter has gone mad!
It is said that many people have seen him sometimes writing papers and then suddenly raising his pinky finger and charmingly tossing his hair.
Some people have also seen him occasionally making frog-like croaking sounds while eating at the restaurant.
Neville confidently asserted that he had encountered Harry imitating a frog jumping in the bathroom.
At first, this was just some unfounded rumors, until the Potions class on the first Friday of the new year.
As usual, Professor Snape hovered around Harry, spewing venom and making sarcastic remarks.
However, Harry, who usually swallowed his pride and endured everything, acted like a madman that day, or rather, like a completely different person. He answered Professor Snape's deliberately difficult questions fluently, and even imitated Snape's tone to mock him at the end—
"Severus Snape! The famous Potions Professor, and this is all the questions he asks? Tsk tsk, I really feel sorry for these students. To encounter a mediocre and incompetent teacher at the very beginning of their academic career is the greatest misfortune of their lives!"
Everyone in the classroom at that moment, except for Vaughn Weasley who was absent, whether Gryffindor or Slytherin, was stunned.
They watched as Snape's face went from white to green, and then from green to black.
No one expected that the expressionless Snape could have such wonderful expressions.
The final result was predictable. Although Harry was quickly shocked and seemed to wake up from a dream, frantically apologizing to Snape, Snape was still furious and deducted a full 30 points from Gryffindor.
Of course, no one in Gryffindor blamed Harry; Hermione would earn back those mere 30 points.
They just felt sorry for the poor guy.
"He must be driven crazy by the heavy workload," Justin Finley of Hufflepuff said confidently. "I've seen students like that in Muggle schools, you know. Before I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter, I was preparing to get into Eton College."
This is the umpteenth time he's talked about Eton College; he'll bring up any topic.
Even though nobody knows what it is.
"Potter might be cursed!" During a meal, Malfoy and his followers deliberately went to the Gryffindor table and said maliciously, "A cruel dark wizard has put a curse on him, and his madness has only just begun. Potter, you'd better be careful, who knows, you might really turn into a frog one day, or a madman who talks nonsense!"
Only Hermione and Ron know what Harry has been through.
On Friday night, a weary Harry returned to the Room of Requirement.
His listless appearance suggested he had been completely ruined.
His lifeless eyes stared at Vaughn: "Women, frogs, an arrogant potions genius... I'm really tired, Vaughn. What kind of fake memories do you want to fabricate for me? I don't care anymore!"
He was indeed exhausted; no one could get away unscathed after angering Snape.
Harry spent the entire afternoon in the Potions Office, cleaning up the mountains of potion ingredients for Snape and enduring the latter's incessant, sarcastic remarks.
He felt like his head was about to explode, and he deeply regretted not having firmly resisted Vaughn's proposal a few days ago.
Vaughn didn't say anything, but pressed his wand against Harry's forehead.
Harry remained motionless, letting him pull a strand of silver hair from his head.
After looking at the strand of silver for a moment, Vaughn casually tossed it away and shook his head: "Harry, your will is too weak. Normally, after practicing for so long, these false memories shouldn't be interfering with you anymore."
"Brain blanks, or heavy academic thinking, or useless distractions—these are all techniques of the 'brain shutting' method. They can ensure that you are not affected by false memories, so why can't you always stick to it?"
"I..."
Harry opened his mouth, a little embarrassed, "Sorry, I accidentally spaced out again today..."
Although he intended to use Harry as a guinea pig, Vaughn did not forget what he wanted to teach him.
Quirrell was active at school all day, and even though he looked like Voldemort, who was parasitizing him, was no longer draining his life force, he seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep.
But no one knows when the Dark Lord will wake up or when he will discover his connection with Harry.
Both Vaughn and Dumbledore wanted Harry to keep his head intact, rather than letting a master of memory magic like Voldemort discover the flaw and use it to resurrect him.
After a moment's thought, Vaughn said, "Harry, it seems you lack a sense of urgency."
"...What's the meaning?"
Harry looked at Vaughn, who had sat back down opposite him, and suddenly had a bad feeling.
Vaughn ignored his pale face and said, "You know I won't harm you, so your resistance to my intrusions and memory alterations is never very strong. Your trust and sense of security in me make your learning of Occlumency very inefficient."
In Harry's memory, Vaughn was never a very serious person; he had a wicked sense of humor and was often smiling, although when he smiled, it was usually not for anything good.
But overall, he rarely saw Vaughn get serious.
Just like now...
Glug...
Harry swallowed hard, then asked nervously and cautiously, "So?"
His response was that Vaughn raised his wand.
"Capture the spirit and grasp the mind!"
Harry felt dizzy for a moment and instinctively leaned back. Having studied Occlumency with Vaughn for over two months and served as a target for Legilimency for over two months, he had already experienced the wondrous world of the mind.
However, they did not enter that wondrous scene of being suspended in mid-air today. He and Vaughn remained seated on the sofa, with the fireplace roaring beside them.
Harry was wondering what was going on when he saw Vaughn raise his hand and snap his fingers.
The surrounding scenery blurred for a moment—a cozy bookstore, a fireplace, a sofa. Harry felt as if he were sitting on a speeding train, with everything around him left behind.
When his vision cleared again, he saw that he was in a familiar abandoned classroom.
There is also a mirror covered with a black cloth, which sits in the middle of the classroom.
"Vaughn, how did you bring me here... wait, is this my memory?"
Harry suddenly realized.
"That's right, Harry, these are your memories. You see your mom and dad here…" Vaughn said slowly, looking into the mirror, then turned to Harry, his expression chillingly calm:
"This memory must be very important to you, right?"
Harry was horrified; he already knew what Vaughn was going to do, and quickly stopped him, saying, "Wait, Vaughn—"
Vaughn sighed: "Harry, you'd better fight me with all your might..."
As he spoke, the black cloth of the Mirror of Erised from Harry's memory was lifted, and Harry saw the images of his parents appear in the mirror.
And Vaughn was reaching out to press them down.
In the space where that palm swept across, all colors faded!
"No--"
Harry woke up with a scream, gasping for breath, gripped by panic, terror, and the despair of having his most precious possession taken away.
It made it difficult for him to breathe.
Then, a hand was held out in front of him: "Have a piece of chocolate!"
Hearing that familiar voice, Harry grabbed the hand and screamed frantically, "Vaughn, give it back! Give me my mom and dad..."
He suddenly stopped and looked up.
Vaughn looked at him and smiled, "You've figured it out? How was the fake memory this time?"
"You...I..." Harry stammered, "Was that just now...a joke? When?"
"When the mind is captured."
Chapter 77 Automatic Response Personality
Harry clutched his chest; the desperate pain from moments before still seemed to linger there.
It was so clear, as if I had experienced it myself.
But the result was false?
Seeing his confusion, Vaughn placed the chocolate in his hand and sat back down on the opposite sofa. "This is an experiment, Harry. Remember what I said before Legilimency? You lack a sense of urgency, which is why you haven't been able to learn Occlumency."
"Of course, from my heart, I don't want to force you with your most precious memories, but you do need some extra means to put pressure on you and eliminate your laziness and sloth, so I just used a technique I'm experimenting with in your mind."
After saying that, Vaughn asked, "Would you like to see?"
Harry paused, then asked, "How do you see it? In my mind's eye?"
Vaughn nodded.
After hesitating for a moment, Harry nodded: "Okay..."
He still felt that the so-called false memory was too real, completely different from before.
Even though he was previously unable to control his behavior, he was actually conscious of it. He knew that the false memories were inducing his behavior to go out of control. So after confronting Snape during the day, he quickly suppressed the influence of the false memories and apologized to Snape.
But just now...
Harry was starting to suspect that Vaughn might have done something to his brain.
For example, confusing his perception of reality and falsehood.
"Capture the spirit and grasp the mind!"
Another wave of dizziness washed over Harry, but this time what appeared before him was the familiar world of his mind.
He remained seated opposite Vaughn, suspended in mid-air, surrounded by boundless darkness, with only a lamp floating between them providing some illumination.
Snap!
Vaughn snapped his fingers, and Harry instinctively jolted. He heard Vaughn chuckle on the other end of the line: "Don't be scared, I'm fixing something... Ah, it's coming out."
Harry saw wisps of gray mist rise from his body after Vaughn snapped his fingers.
It rose gently and quickly gathered into a blurry cloud above his head.
Harry strained to look up, watching the fog gradually take shape, then twist and stretch, until it slowly transformed into a human-shaped silhouette.
Then, a glimmer of light began to flicker in the fog, hazy and indistinct, like... breathing!
No, that's not right.
Harry watched closely and discovered that with each flash of light, countless arcs of electricity erupted from the depths of the mist. These extremely tiny arcs spread densely across the surface of the humanoid mist, carving out winding patterns!
He suddenly remembered the Muggle television programs he had watched, some of which used the visual effect of electric current to represent the transmission path of electrical signals in nerves in order to show human brain activity.
The fog's behavior at this moment was very similar to what was shown on television.
Harry asked, bewildered, "What...is it?"
"I don't know." Vaughn's answer surprised Harry. Seeing his astonished expression, Vaughn shrugged. "It's a work in progress, far from what I envisioned. There's no need to define it yet…"
He beckoned to the humanoid cloud of mist, and it floated down.
Vaughn leaned closer to examine it. "In my vision, it should be a collection of all a person's thoughts, emotions, and behavioral characteristics. It should be a fake personality that can be mistaken for a real one. For example, it should automatically respond to stimuli that are generated within you or given to you by the outside world. For example, in this framework, I have filled in your longing for your parents and your fear of losing them."
As he spoke, Vaughn smiled at Harry: "The scene you experienced before was actually a deception that your love and fear spontaneously created for you. It's a bit like a dream. Of course, dreams are fake, but when you're in a dream, you're very sure it's real. Sometimes you can't even tell when you wake up. Isn't that interesting?"
"..."
Harry was speechless, which was quite amusing... Are you the devil?
Frustrated, Harry stared at the humanoid cloud of mist before him, somewhat puzzled: "Then why did you put it in my head?"
"Of course it's to help you, Harry." Vaughn said sincerely. "Originally, I hoped to provoke your resistance and make you resist my Legilimency by altering your memories, by making you exhibit feminine behaviors, or by making you think you are a frog, etc."
"But unfortunately, it seems that none of them have been effective so far."
Vaughn sighed and shook his head: "Like I said before, you trusted me too much. Subconsciously you thought I wouldn't harm you. Even if altering your memories caused you to embarrass yourself, you knew it was only temporary, that you could control it, that you could make amends. So you started... becoming indifferent, becoming shameless, Harry!"
Harry: "..."
"Alas, this is my mistake. I overestimated the impact of a brief embarrassment on you. I didn't realize that when controlled shamelessness becomes a habit, a person will continue to be shameless."
"..."
Harry began to wonder if Vaughn was indirectly insulting him.
But upon closer reflection, he realized that these words made a lot of sense. In the past few days, as his unusual behavior was discovered, he had indeed gradually become accustomed to it instead of resisting it at the beginning.
Staring at the humanoid cloud of mist for a long time, Harry asked in confusion, "You just said that the experience I had when you erased the memories from the Mirror of Erised was something that spontaneously arose using my love and fear?"
Vaughn sat back down opposite him and nodded, saying, "Yes, the human brain is a very complex system. It has its own deception mechanism. Let's take an example."
He raised his hand, and the darkness of his inner world churned, pulling out a long series of misty images.
Then, a scene detached and flew in front of the two.
Harry looked at the image, which showed the school cafeteria, but it was foggy and he couldn't see it clearly.
Vaughn continued, "This is your memory of lunch the day before yesterday, Harry. Now tell me, what was placed in front of you for lunch the day before yesterday?"
this...
Harry was a little dumbfounded; who would remember such a detail?
He began to try to recall what he had done for lunch that day, and it seemed that he had helped Ron or Neville by handing them roasted quail.
After thinking for a moment, he nodded firmly: "It's roasted quail!"
Vaughn smiled, reached out and grabbed at his body, pulling out an image that was much clearer—Vaughn's memory.
From Vaughn's perspective, Harry sees a plate of apple pie in front of him, while Ron asks Neville for roasted quail and hands it to him.
Harry's mouth dropped open.
"Look, you didn't even notice. Theoretically, you don't remember, but when you try to recall something because of your own needs or external stimuli, like the question I just asked you, your brain, which can't access memories, will automatically 'imagine' and 'fill in' for you based on some details from that time. In essence, it's deceiving you."
"The brain deceives itself to maintain its stability and prevent you from wasting energy by getting stuck on trivial details, so you subconsciously believe the deception it makes is true."
"You can think of this thing I put into your brain as an automatic response personality. It uses the brain's imagination and deception mechanisms. As long as you set some conditions for it, such as requiring you to empty your mind at all times, once you fail to do so—this time you really won't be able to control yourself."
Vaughn gave a meaningful smile that made Harry tremble.
For some reason, Harry suddenly began to miss the serious-looking Vaughn from that previous fabricated experience...
His voice trembled as he asked, "Is it necessary?"
"Yes, you have to, Harry. You need excitement, you need pressure!"
Harry left in a daze, while Vaughn remained in the Room of Requirement, pulling out his notebook to record his recent experiences experimenting on Harry and his future predictions:
"...As I predicted, simple memory modification cannot deceive the overall human consciousness, let alone use it to manipulate emotions. The design of the 'outer garment' must be shaped as a completely new personality. It should be connected to the real personality and the real brain mechanism in order to have real thought processes, reaction abilities, and behavioral characteristics. Only in this way can the full emotions I need be born..."
"...The next step is to train Harry to learn Occlumency as soon as possible, test the protective and filtering capabilities of Occlumency, and test whether the contamination of the real personality by the false personality can be shielded by Occlumency."
At this point, Vaughn hesitated a bit.
Will constantly taking advantage of Harry really ruin him?
But who else would be suitable besides Harry?
He reminisced about the people he knew, lost in deep thought...
"Merlin, Scabbers—"
A scream from the dormitory woke Harry from his dream.
He felt something was wrong as soon as he woke up. It felt like something was wriggling in his mouth. Before he could react, Ron from the next bed pounced on him with a ferocious expression and grabbed his lips.
"What are you doing, Harry? Release Scabbers, oh my god!"
Harry finally realized what was in his mouth!
vomit--
He opened his mouth wide so Ron could drag the damn fat rat out, then lay down by the bed and vomited violently.
Spotty looked terrified; its fur was covered in sticky saliva, and the whole mouse was squeaking and struggling in Ron's hands.
Ron hugged it tenderly, but it bit him, so he had to put it back in its cage.
He said angrily, "Why did you put Scabbers in your mouth, Harry? It loves you so much! Every time you let it out, it sneaks up to you and sleeps with you. How could you treat it like this?"
"Shut up, Ron!"
Harry was disgusted.
After vomiting for a while, Harry couldn't stand the strange feeling in his mouth any longer, so he stumbled into the bathroom to rinse his mouth.
When he came out again, he still felt very uncomfortable.
But what bothered him even more was... he realized why he had put Banban in his mouth—it was his automatic response personality!
According to Vaughn, he had to maintain various techniques of Occlumency, which could involve a blank mind or a mind full of useless thoughts.
The only thing he couldn't do was to keep his thoughts and memories undefended.
There will be penalties for violations!
Last night he had a dream in which he must have failed to maintain his brain-blocking technique and was therefore punished—this morning, he woke up inexplicably and stuffed Banban, who was sleeping by his bedside, into his mouth.
He put it in himself... He didn't even think there was a problem at the time!
Moreover, he also knows that his current awareness of the problem is not because he has mastered the art of brain shutting, but because the punishment mechanism of the automatic response personality is progressive.
After the punishment, it will make him understand that his behavior was inappropriate, and if he repeats the offense today, the punishment will be increased.
Until he completely becomes a different person, all we can do is wait for the automatic reset at midnight!
Harry's face was pale.
Today's first punishment was swallowing Banban. If it gets any harder, wouldn't that be...?
He couldn't help but glance at Ron, who was still angry.
...
"So, you want to eat Banban because Vaughn implanted something in your brain that will turn you into a different person?"
There were no classes on Saturday. After having dinner at the restaurant, Ron, who had calmed down, sat with Harry in the courtyard as he listened to Harry recount the details.
Struggling to maintain a blank mind, Harry remained expressionless. This was a side effect of the early stages of learning Occlumency; he even had to draw out his words to ensure that his increasingly dulled brain could react.
"Yes, in that state, my behavior would be very abnormal, and I wouldn't even be aware of it myself."
"cool!"
Harry stared blankly at Ron, who quickly coughed and said, "I mean, Vaughn went too far. I should have known better. Only he would have such malice towards Scabbers."
"No—eating Banban is only today's punishment, and it's only the first stage. If you do it again..."
What happens if you commit the offense again?
Ron was just wondering when a pair of large hands suddenly reached out from behind and pressed down hard on his and Harry's heads: "Weasley, Potter, have you finished writing your potions papers? Or are you planning to hand me a blank parchment next class and continue to mock me?"
The two turned around stiffly, and behind them stood Snape, dressed in black like a bat.
Snape was pleased to see Ron's face quickly turn to fear, but Harry...
Harry's cold face was exactly like his, including his lifeless eyes.
Thinking of yesterday's events, Snape's face immediately darkened: "What, Harry Potter, are you going to imitate me again?"
"No, Professor!"
"...Gryffindor loses 10 points!"
Please—listen to me—
"Deduct another 10 points!"
Harry finally couldn't hold back any longer. He snapped out of his daze and called out, "Professor Snape, I'm practicing..."
He suddenly stopped, stiffly turned his head, and his bright eyes gradually looked at Ron's head beside him!
Before long, a commotion arose in the courtyard.
"Help! Help! Pull Harry away!"
"Harry Potter! Let go of your... let go of your mouth!"
"Don't pull me! Let me have one more bite! Let me have one more bite! You bunch of bastards, I just want to eat a skull, let me go!"
From a distance, Vaughn and Dumbledore, passing by on the suspension bridge, noticed the commotion in the courtyard and chatted idly:
"It seems you've already come up with a plan."
"That's right, I'm going to create a virtual persona to give myself a disguise."
"Oh, what a wonderful idea, different from mine, but very interesting... But, could you please leave Harry alone?"
"Hmm? Don't you think this method is very effective? I believe that after today, Harry will definitely not dare to slack off again, or, I don't mind if I stop helping you train him!"
"Ah, the weather is really nice today."
Vaughn's prediction was correct.
That day, Ron had a chunk of hair bitten off, and Harry was chained to his hospital bed with restraints by Madam Pomfrey for an entire day as a price.
Harry dared not relax any longer, lest he trigger the automatic response mechanism.
The reality is that one cannot quickly master Occlumency simply because of fear, even if one makes good progress; initially, one can only maintain a blank mind for two hours.
A month later, he was able to maintain this level of performance throughout the day while fully conscious.
But Harry and the entire Hogwarts community know the hardships they endured...
"Potter, I heard Hagrid found you in the Forbidden Forest yesterday, and you were grazing? Tsk tsk, what do you think you are this time? A horse? Or a deer?"
"Potter, I heard you made a complete mess of the owlhouse yesterday. What were you doing? Oh yes, the great Mr. Potter thought he was an owl. He even tried to fly, and ended up smashing the entire scaffolding."
"Potter…"
This month was the happiest time of Malfoy's life.
Harry Potter's baffling human behavior provided Malfoy with a month's worth of laughs, but unfortunately, this happened less and less frequently afterward, much to Malfoy's regret.
On the other hand, there's Vaughn Weasley, the Dark Lord of Slytherin, who becomes increasingly elusive and difficult to spot as Wizengamor holds meetings regarding the establishment of the "Werewolf Affairs Committee."
Without the Great Demon King to suppress him, Malfoy finally dared to swagger around with Goyle and Crabbe, bullying all the first-year snakes. He also gained a follower named Pansy Parkinson, a girl who looked like a poodle.
However, Mr. Malfoy never cared about looks when making friends; he only cared about someone strong and able to fight for him, which Miss Parkinson fits perfectly.
At noon, Malfoy, along with his henchmen, waited at the restaurant entrance for his beloved Potter.
Harry caused trouble again today. In the early hours of the morning, he suddenly broke out of the Gryffindor tower, pounced on the door of the Ravenclaw common room, and pounded on it, determined to get into Ravenclaw and not want to be with the Gryffindor idiots anymore.
A large crowd gathered to witness Harry's betrayal.
Professor McGonagall, who rushed over after hearing the commotion, dragged him to the university hospital.
"You should see, Harry. Percy's face is black with anger. Although everyone knows that your abnormal behavior is due to learning magic from Vaughn, your betrayal of Gryffindor has obviously made Percy feel that he has lost face."
"The school hospital," Ron said with great interest.
Harry looked pained. As his mastery of Occlumency deepened, he no longer experienced the side effects of being expressionless, lifeless, or slow to react while maintaining a blank mind.
Although his act of betraying the school wasn't entirely genuine, Harry still felt very guilty.
Because of his state of mind at the time, he genuinely believed that Gryffindor were all idiots, fools, and brutes, and he said a lot of hurtful things.
Thinking of the Gryffindor upperclassmen who were watching, and Professor McGonagall's trembling lips, Harry felt like banging his head against the ground.
When will this kind of life ever end?!
Hermione, who had also come to visit Harry, paid no attention to Harry's pain—he had been in pain for a month anyway—and upon hearing Ron's words, she closed her book and corrected him: "Percy was angry not because Harry betrayed Gryffindor, but because Harry was clinging to Penelope Crivart's leg, his nose and tears all over the place!"
Ron was stunned: "Pe...what?"
"Penelope Crivate, the prefect of Ravenclaw!"
Ron felt a little confused: "Wait, what does Harry hugging her legs have to do with Percy?"
Hermione looked at him dismissively: "Because Crivette is Percy's girlfriend, Ronald Weasley, and who knows, you two might even become family someday!"
"...How did you know?"
"Percy told me."
Ron was taken aback.
When the twins came to visit Harry later, he was even more devastated.
"That's right, Ronnie. Remember last summer when Percy received a lot of letters? They were all from Crevat."
"Mom left them all at home when school started, and Percy was really angry."
"So he decided to tell everyone that he was in love with Krivat in order to avoid a similar situation from happening again."
"We all know, including Ginny. I heard she and Krivat exchanged gifts for Christmas."
Ron, who thought, "So I'm the only one who didn't know," looked completely bewildered. Undeterred, he asked Harry, "Harry, do you know?"
Harry: "Uh..."
No answer is needed.
Ron looked ashen and dejected.
"Uh, Ron, I know because I ran into them. They were on a date there when I went to the Forbidden Forest last time. Thanks to Percy for calling Hagrid for me, otherwise I might have gotten lost. You know, I thought I was a stag."
Ron sat listlessly on the edge of the bed, as if abandoned by the whole world. After a while, he asked again, unwilling to give up, "Does Vaughn know?"
"Of course I know, Percy told me first."
A voice came from outside the door.
Hermione smiled happily and stood up: "Vaughn, how's everything going?"
Wearing a velvet suit and looking very smart and handsome, Vaughn entered the ward, greeted Harry, and was then pulled by Hermione to sit next to her. He shook his head and said:
"The establishment of the committee went relatively smoothly, but politics is never smooth sailing. There will always be people who will point out problems, and then you have to solve them or compromise."
Seeing his slightly furrowed brows, Hermione bit her lip, took his hand, and gently advised, "Don't be too anxious. There's a solution to every problem; it's just a matter of time."
"Thanks."
Hermione's palms were warm, and it was only then that Vaughn noticed that the girl in front of him had suddenly grown taller.
She's a little taller than him now, and her figure is starting to show curves.
It was as if she had grown from a naive child into a budding young woman overnight.
Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn't let go of his hand, even ignoring the two third wheels next to her.
Are you going to the Ministry of Magic this afternoon?
"I need to go there this evening; this meeting will continue for a few more days."
"Let's think about it in the evening. How about we go to Black Lake later? We can enjoy the scenery, read a book, and relax our minds."
Vaughn thought for a moment and nodded: "Bring the fruit tea along too, how has it been these past few days?"
Hermione, quick to act, didn't want to wait a moment longer and immediately pulled Vaughn up. "Let's go now. Fruit Tea misses you. Although it's very well-behaved and doesn't make a fuss, it's always spacing out. It's almost lunchtime, so let's go to the restaurant and get some food, and also get some fish for Fruit Tea. How about a picnic?"
"That's a great idea!"
As the two chatted, they quickly disappeared outside the door, leaving Harry and Ron, two silly elementary school students, dumbfounded and at a loss.
After a long pause, Ron suddenly said, "Harry, did you really stumble upon Percy's affair yourself?"
"certainly."
"Then why did he tell Hermione?"
Harry said dryly, "Maybe he thinks Hermione will become part of the family too?"
Foolish Ron started sulking again.
He's not even as good as Hermione!
Chapter 78 Dumbledore's Powerful Connections
Time always slips away quickly without us noticing.
In Vaughn's memory, the blizzard seemed like it was just yesterday. But as he became engrossed in memory magic and various meetings, in the blink of an eye, the ice on the Black Lake had thawed, the trees were sprouting new buds, and the mountains surrounding Hogwarts were gradually returning to their verdant green.
Today was a rare day of fine weather, and the spring sunshine suddenly became bright.
Hermione found a tablecloth from somewhere, and the girl hummed a cheerful tune as she placed the food she had brought from the restaurant on it.
After not seeing its owner for two days, Guoguocha, after rubbing against Vaughn repeatedly, gradually became attracted by its surroundings and chased after several transparent-winged butterflies, hopping around on the grass.
Vaughn lay on the grass, snapped his fingers, and a blue magical flame ignited between his fingers.
Then it floats into the air, swaying in the still slightly chilly spring breeze, offering a little warmth.
In the nearby black lake, the giant squid also poked its head out from underwater, its thick tentacles creating waves in the water.
This is a rare moment of relaxation.
Vaughn stared at all this, somewhat lost in thought.
After some time, Hermione lay close to him and quietly took his hand.
Vaughn turned to look at her, and she instinctively looked away, staring at the magical flames above.
"I can do this magic too," she said.
Then she wanted to hit herself on the head. Why did she always seem so competitive?
Vaughn laughed out loud, and Hermione's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
"Let's not talk about magic today," Vaughn smiled. "Otherwise, this lunch will turn into a classroom discussion."
Hermione bit her lip and quickly racked her brains, trying to think of something to say.
But after thinking it over, she realized that her brain, which she had always considered clever, seemed to have rusted.
She sadly discovered that, apart from studying, she and Vaughn seemed to have absolutely nothing to talk about.
Fortunately, Vaughn seemed to sense her embarrassment and suggested, "How about we talk about your family?"
"Uh, my mom and dad are both Muggle dentists. Do you know what a dentist is?"
Seeing Hermione's expression as if she was about to give a lecture, Vaughn could only say helplessly, "Let's talk about magic instead. Did you perform magic for them when you went back for Christmas?"
"Yes." Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I demonstrated Transfiguration, Levitation, and Fire Charm to them. I also received a letter from the Ministry of Magic, warning me not to let other Muggles see it, or they'll expel me from Hogwarts."
Vaughn shrugged: "That's just to scare you. Even if a Muggle sees you casting a spell, the Ministry of Magic doesn't have the authority to expel an excellent student."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good. By the way, what is the Trace Silk, and where is it?"
Since receiving the warning letter from the Ministry of Magic at Christmas, she returned to Hogwarts and immediately went into the library to find out why the Ministry of Magic knew about her spellcasting.
Unfortunately, she only searched for the word "tracking silk," and there was no record of anything more specific.
"Tracing is a kind of monitoring magic, or rather, a kind of magical contract with little binding force. It is not in our wands or bodies, but on the day we receive our Hogwarts admission notice, once we confirm our enrollment, we are automatically signed a contract. This contract allows the Ministry of Magic to locate our approximate location and the magical fluctuations that occur around us."
Hermione was very clever and immediately noticed the flaw: "So, if there are many wizards near where I live, the Ministry of Magic won't know I'm casting a spell?"
Vaughn nodded: "That's right, so you see, I never worry about traces."
"That's wonderful…" Hermione said enviously.
After a moment of silence, Vaughn suddenly heard her ask softly, "Then... Vaughn, can I come to your house to play during the summer vacation?"
Vaughn turned his head, and the spring sunlight cast a hazy outline on the girl's profile.
It also made her brown eyes, full of anticipation, trepidation, and shyness, sparkle like jewels.
He smiled and said, "Your eyes are the same as mine and Ginny's."
"Huh?" Hermione was puzzled. She knew who Ginny was, but she didn't know why Vaughn would suddenly say that.
Then she saw Vaughn close his eyes and whisper in the warm light and breeze, "Ginny would really like you."
A surge of immense joy instantly filled the young girl's heart.
Her heart was pounding wildly, and Hermione tried her best to control herself.
After the initial surprise, anxiety crept in, and she couldn't help but ask herself, "Since everyone in your family is a wizard, what should I dress for? And how do I get to your house? By train or car? No… wizards probably don't have these things where they live…"
Vaughn chuckled.
"Summer vacation is still a long way off, I'll pick you up then!"
"Oh..." Hermione quietly moved her cheek closer to the grass to dispel the heat.
"By the way, Mr. and Mrs. Granger can also come and play. They probably don't know what a wizard's family is like, do they?"
"May I?"
"You could write to them and ask if they'll think I'm a scammer, since I'll take some time out of my meeting to deliver this to your parents."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Then, Vaughn heard her whisper, "I've told them about you, they'll know when they see your hair..."
"oh--"
"...What do you mean, 'oh'?"
"It's nothing, it's just that I feel like someone has been eyeing me for a long time."
Hermione blushed and quickly got up. "The food's gone cold, eat up!"
Vaughn lay down for a while before getting up. The wind blowing from the lake ruffled his fiery red hair. He watched as the girl, her face flushed, arranged the food and waved to him.
...
"Mr. Vaughn Weasley, I saw in your document for the 'Werewolf Affairs Committee' that the committee will not accept donations from any individuals or organizations, nor will it accept funding from the Ministry of Magic. You are trying to keep the committee's organizational structure pure, but I wonder, how will those poor… poor and kind people survive? How will they maintain their monthly supply of wolfsbane?"
Nighttime, Wissengamo administration.
This huge conference room, located on the second basement level, serves as both Wissengamo's office for handling daily affairs and a meeting room for making decisions on important matters.
The tiered classroom-like structure was filled with wizards dressed in crimson robes.
In the very center of the room, a high platform stood, and Vaughn, also dressed in a crimson robe, stood behind the lectern on the platform, receiving questioning from the entire Wizengamo.
He glanced at the old wizard who had asked the question, and the name immediately came to mind: Alred Travers, a pure-blooded man and one of the 28 Holy Clans.
Truly a pureblood with deep roots.
However, the Travers family is rather opportunistic. They have many branches, some of which maintain their pure-blood pride while others flirt with Muggles. This is not due to serious internal divisions, but rather a survival strategy.
By branching out and siding with both purebloods and Muggles, Travers can diversify its resources and ensure its continued existence regardless of future changes in the wizarding world.
"As long as they're not here to make things difficult, that's fine."
Thinking it over, Vaughn replied loudly, "Your question is very good, Mr. Travers, but I need to point out that werewolves are poor not because they are lazy, but because their circumstances and the public opinion forced them to stay away from people. Now, with the wolf poison, they are able to return to society and support themselves through labor and work."
"But your concerns are not entirely unfounded."
Vaughn spoke eloquently, "According to our investigation, there are currently about 2,000 werewolves in England. Excluding Greyback and his henchmen, there are at least 1,600 vagrants who can be absorbed. About three-fifths of them are Muggles, Squibs, and native werewolves (wolf cubs born to werewolf couples). They are undoubtedly unsuitable for living in the wizarding world, and the current size of the wizarding world cannot immediately accommodate 1,000 people."
"Our temporary plan is to divert these werewolves into Muggle society. The huge Muggle population is enough to help them find jobs quickly and solve their survival problems temporarily."
At this point, Vaughn paused, and seeing the wizards starting to whisper among themselves about what he had just said, he said somewhat helplessly, "Yes, it seems that you have all noticed the problem—Muggle currency is worthless in the wizarding world."
"Of course we've taken that into account, so once the committee is established, I will push for the committee to set up an internal foundation. Initial funding will be provided by me and Dumbledore as loans to the foundation to operate Muggle gold, and then the gold will be used to cooperate with Gringotts to solve the initial costs of the wolfsbane potion."
Of course, this is a stopgap measure.
Although Vaughn recalled that gold prices in the 1990s had great potential, the magical world's economy was very fragile due to its large population.
Even if the goblins of Gringotts love gold, they cannot exchange it without restraint. Otherwise, a large influx of gold could very likely cause the Galleon system to collapse.
This was a problem that Vaughn had already considered before he even started preparing the "Werewolf Affairs Committee".
Moreover, he was happy to see this problem arise.
The wizarding world is too closed off; he wants to slowly pry open a crack so that the wizarding world can have more contact with Muggle society.
Vaughn paused, giving the generally elderly Wizengamo members more time to understand the meaning behind his words, before continuing to propose another solution: "...On the other hand, I hope that Wizengamo will allow the Werewolf Affairs Committee and the International Magical Exchange and Cooperation Department to reach an export cooperation agreement on wolfsbane potions."
When this idea was proposed, the Wisengamites looked at each other in bewilderment, and many of them involuntarily looked toward the corner.
There sat a thin wizard, about 50 years old.
Barty Crouch, once a prominent and ruthless figure who rose to fame during the Wizarding Wars more than a decade ago, is now the Director of the International Department of Magical Exchange and Cooperation.
He is also a member of Wizengamo.
Barty Crouch was clearly surprised that the Werewolf Affairs Committee would involve him. He glanced at Vaughn in astonishment, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, but he ultimately remained silent.
People around were whispering.
Everyone recalled that the newspapers had been reporting recently that Vaughn Weasley harbored wolfish ambitions and attempted to tear the Ministry of Magic apart.
Is this a declaration of war against Fudge?
Otherwise, why would he request to cooperate solely with the International Department of Magical Exchange and Cooperation?
More importantly, the department's leader is a sensitive figure like Barty Crouch.
This inevitably leads many people to speculate!
Seeing that the situation was getting out of control, Amelia Burns, who was chairing the meeting, had to shout a command to stop it: "Silence!"
The massive sound drowned out the buzzing discussions.
Once everyone had sat up straight, Amelia looked at Aldridge Travers, who had asked the first question, and asked, "Mr. Travers, do you have any objections or questions about Mr. Weasley's answer?"
Travers shook his head: "No, Ms. Burns, I'm satisfied."
"The questioning session will now continue. Please proceed to the next member!"
As she spoke, she glanced at the person opposite her, and an old witch across from her stood up as if to understand her meaning: "Mr. Weasley, I would like to ask you what your plans are for the future development of the wolfsbane potion? Will the werewolf affairs committee be to operate on a regular basis?"
"Yes, for the time being, the wolfification syndrome—I prefer to call it the werewolf virus—cannot be completely cured yet. For the next version of the wolf poison, I plan to first address the issue of werewolf transformation under the full moon... Therefore, judging from the current trend, the Werewolf Affairs Committee cannot be just a temporary entity; it may continue for many years."
"Next… Mrs. Marchban, you may sit down and ask your question."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Weasley…"
Under Amelia's guidance, the meeting proceeded smoothly, and several hours passed quickly.
As night fell, Amelia announced a temporary recess, to be held the next day.
A group of people in purple robes walked out of the conference hall, talking amongst themselves. Vaughn breathed a sigh of relief. As he descended from the platform, Amelia walked to his side, a slight smile appearing on her serious face.
"Thank you for your hard work, kid. Would you like to come to my office for something to eat?"
"Okay, thank you, Ms. Burns."
"Call me Amelia. I've never seen you so polite when you're with Albus."
Amelia's office is also on the second basement level.
On the way to his office with Amelia, Vaughn encountered many Ministry of Magic officials, and everyone who saw him couldn't help but stop and stare.
If this floor didn't belong to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and if Amelia weren't the department head with a lot of authority, officials from other floors would probably have come here too.
Once you get to know her better, you'll find that Amelia isn't serious in private and sometimes even likes to joke around.
Even now, back in her office, she brought out two drinks and a few plates of dried fruit, and smiled at Vaughn, saying, "You've been making quite a splash in the ministry lately. They all call you a 12-year-old ambitious man, someone who's trying to destroy the Ministry of Magic."
Vaughn shook his head: "That's not my intention, but the Ministry of Magic's system is too outdated, and Fudge is a typical politician. If I don't want the wolfsbane potion I developed to become a political tool, and if I don't want the werewolves to become weapons, I can only find a way to separate werewolf affairs!"
Although after spending more than a month together, Amelia already knew that the child in front of her was deep and not simple.
But hearing him say that, she instinctively comforted him, "Don't worry, Dumbledore supports you, and we all support you."
Looking at Amelia's matter-of-fact expression when she said those words, it was as if Dumbledore was her superior (although, judging from the organizational structure of Wizengamor, that was indeed the case).
Vaughn outwardly thanked him, but inwardly sighed.
This is the appeal of the greatest white wizard of our time, even though Dumbledore, out of fear of power, locked himself in Hogwarts and did not want to participate in the struggle.
But as long as he stands up, countless people will respond to him.
Some people agree with his ideas, some simply admire him as a person, and some, like Fudge a year ago, try to curry favor with the "White Devil" to enhance their own political capital.
Through various meetings these days, Vaughn has encountered many subtle overtures, including today.
In Vaughn's view, so-called questioning meetings are actually places where things can easily go wrong. As long as the questioner deliberately makes things difficult, they can drag out a lot of trivial matters for many days.
He had been harassed by a pure-blood family member in the morning, but by evening, Amelia had controlled the entire meeting, with Travers only raising one relatively meaningful question.
When Vaughn's answer was sensitive, Amelia immediately took control, not giving anyone else a chance to make trouble.
No wonder everyone likes to suck up to powerful people...
In a good mood, Vaughn chatted with Amelia while drinking a beverage.
"...There are still two days left in the interrogation session. Although there was a bit of an accident this morning, I can assure you that there won't be any similar situations in the future. Of course, you should also be careful to restrain yourself. You shouldn't have dragged Barty Crouch into this when you answered Travers earlier."
Amelia instructed, "No matter how down on his luck he is now, he was once the most promising candidate for Minister of Magic and a major thorn in Fudge's side. You see, Fudge couldn't wait to throw Crouch into the Department of International Magical Exchange and Cooperation just one year after taking office... That place clearly doesn't want him to be in charge of England's affairs."
"You may not have any other intentions in proposing cooperation, but outsiders will not think that your idea is so simple. People always like to complicate a simple matter, such as your intention to join forces with Crouch to overthrow the Minister of Magic or something."
Vaughn smiled and nodded, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking behind the smile.
Amelia didn't know either.
But as she said before, if Dumbledore wants to support Vaughn, then she will support him too!
She heard Vaughn ask curiously, "So, Crouch is really down on his luck now? He didn't say a word at the meeting and looked very old. He's only lost some support because of his son. It shouldn't be such a big blow to him, right?"
"It's not just for political reasons," Amelia sighed. "For a politician, losing power is only temporary. He became what he is now more because of his family."
"Few people outside knew that Barty Crouch Jr. had died in Azkaban. Not long after, Crouch's wife also died from grief and longing for her son. The deaths of his wife and son completely devastated him. From then on, he became low-key and didn't want to care about many things anymore."
Vaughn listened silently, inwardly scoffing.
It seems that Barty Crouch has kept a low profile very well; no one has noticed that his low profile is not really due to being deeply affected by a setback.
He also abused his power for personal gain, and in order to fulfill his seriously ill wife's wish, he switched her and Little Barty with a compound decoction.
Therefore, it wasn't Barty Crouch Jr. who died in Azkaban, but a mother who died in place of her son.
The real Barty Jr. is currently being controlled by Crouch using the Imperius Curse and is being kept at home!
Seemingly sensing Vaughn's interest in Crouch, Amelia had to remind him, "You'd better not try to win Crouch over; it's useless. He's lost all his ambition now."
"Furthermore, Fudge has remained silent since the last incident because Wissengamo has not yet made a decision, and he cannot participate in Wissengamo affairs. However, no one believes he will swallow this insult, so it's best not to give him any excuse. Trying to win over Crouch would do more harm than good!"
Theoretically speaking, her judgment wasn't wrong.
Crouch has become a useless person or even a joke in the eyes of many. In the eyes of politicians, such a self-destructive guy has lost his last remaining value.
Vaughn gave her the smile she expected: "Thank you for reminding me, I was just curious."
After chatting for a while longer, Vaughn politely declined Amelia's offer to stay and got up to take his leave.
We'll meet again tomorrow anyway.
After taking the elevator down to the second basement level, Vaughn didn't go to the fireplace area to use Floo Powder. Instead, he slowly walked out of the Ministry of Magic through the underground passage.
The Ministry of Magic is actually not far from Muggle society; just above it on the ground is Whitehall in London, a very famous street.
Most of the Muggle government departments are located on this street.
Vaughn cast a banishing spell on himself to prevent his ancient Wizengamo robes from attracting the attention of Muggles. Then, with his magical eyes, he observed the nearby buildings and found a public toilet that had also been cast a banishing spell.
That's the staff entrance; Ministry of Magic staff can be teleported to the fireplace area via the toilets in the restrooms.
This quirky approach was clearly resisted by most of the staff, such as Arthur, who disliked it, but there were also some honest guys who rigidly followed the department's rules.
Just like the short, chubby young man in front of us, who was holding a newspaper and looked easy to bully.