Continue from WebNovel: Harry Potter: the Fame system
Hogwarts: From Little Wizard to White Lord
Chapter 73: Vaughn's Speech
At this moment, the more than one hundred people sitting in the Great Hall quieted down the instant Vaughn opened his mouth.
They looked at, gazed at, and scrutinized this child.
Vaughn ignored their stares, his gaze sweeping past Fudge's stiff smile and the crowd, looking out the luxurious floor-to-ceiling windows of the Great Hall at the street covered in pristine white snow.
He was telling a story, a story that had actually happened.
"Many people are curious why I developed the Wolfsbane Potion. I haven't responded because I didn't know how to tell others. Don't misunderstand, I was just worried you wouldn't understand!"
The main podium amplified his voice, sending it to everyone's ears.
By the Great Hall door, Dumbledore, who had been missing for a long time, was standing there unnoticed. He held the Elder Wand, its tip resting casually on the glass, causing imperceptible ripples to spread out in circles.
The glass, along with the Great Hall itself, which was an alchemical marvel, silently opened a gap, transmitting the sound waves outside.
"It was when I was about six years old. One day, I saw a document Dad brought home. It was a request from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for cross-departmental personnel transfer. They needed new staff to work in two subordinate departments: the Beast Office and the Being Office..."
Vaughn paused here. He saw that some people in the crowd were still confused, while some Ministry of Magicofficials realized what Vaughn was about to say, but looked puzzled, seemingly not understanding why he brought this up.
Vaughn lowered his gaze: "They needed new staff to be transferred to the Werewolf Registry and the WerewolfCapture Unit under the Beast Office, and the WerewolfSupport Services under the Being Office!"
"Perhaps those of you present cannot understand the shock a child felt at the time—why was the Werewolfissue placed in the Beast Office? I always thought that office managed Dragons, Ghouls, and Hags..."
On the street outside, hearing the sound emanating from the Great Hall, the Aurors stepped out from various corners.
To ensure everything went smoothly today, Fudgedisregarded Rufus Scrimgeour's protests and transferred dozens of Aurors to Diagon Alley.
Of course, for the mental well-being of the guests, especially those from Pure-blood families, Mr. Fudge did not allow the Aurors to appear in front of everyone and be an eyesore.
Delrich, who passed the Auror exam last year, was still a newcomer. He quietly listened to the childlike voice coming from the Great Hall and asked his captain, Senior AurorKingsley Shacklebolt:
"Captain, is that true?"
"Mmm..."
Kingsley nodded silently.
Delrich mumbled a few times, "I always thought werewolves were managed by a specialized department. How could they... how could they put them in the Beast Office?"
Kingsley did not answer. Many young people who joined the Ministry of Magic had asked this question, and as they grew older, they all forgot it entirely.
No one knew how this discrimination formed or how it subtly took root. After spending a long time in the Ministry of Magic, it always felt as if, from the beginning, Wizards had never considered Werewolves to be human!
The surrounding Aurors all had strange expressions—some were disdainful, some were contemplative, and some were uneasy.
Suddenly, a commotion came from the starting point of Diagon Alley, near the Leaky Cauldron. The Auror closest to that spot, named Shawick, frowned and looked over.
He saw more than ten raggedly dressed people, passing through the iconic narrow archway at the entrance of Diagon Alley, walking timidly towards them.
"Hey, who are you? Diagon Alley is closed today, and all shops are temporarily shut. If you have business, please come back this afternoon!"
"Did you hear me? Stop!"
Those people ignored his warning; they were listening to the voice coming from the Great Hall:
"...I thought everyone would have a fair attitude towards Werewolves, recognizing them as victims of lycanthropy, but I haven't seen such people in all these years..."
Vaughn's voice echoed above Diagon Alley. Shawick noticed that these dozen or so vagrant-like figures suddenly shed tears upon hearing that voice.
Shawick didn't want to think about what madness they were engaged in. He drew his wand: "Stupefy—"
Before the spell was finished, the vagrant walking at the very front, whose face bore a hideous scar, raised his wand, which burst forth with red light, striking Shawick and sending him flying.
"Hostile attack—"
"Damn it, they're Werewolves!"
All the Aurors noticed the commotion due to this Expelliarmus. Some raised their wands, preparing to counterattack, while others ran toward the Great Hall.
Just then, Kingsley Shacklebolt shouted, "Stop, all of you! What are you doing?"
"Captain..."
Someone else tried to resist the order, but Kingsley ignored them, his gaze fixed in shock on the archway at the entrance to Diagon Alley.
The others looked over as well, and their scalps went numb—
One, ten, a hundred... more and more downtrodden and haggard people, looking like vagrants, walked over from that direction.
In a flash, the area was crowded with a dense, dark mass of people.
Roughly counting, there were several hundred people, led by the dozen or so Wizards who had appeared first, walking towards them.
As far as the eye could see, there were crowds of heads!
They were all... Werewolves!
Delrich fearfully swallowed his saliva. He had never seen so many Werewolves gathered together. Although, theoretically, Werewolves who hadn't transformed didn't pose much of a threat, and many Werewolves couldn't transform voluntarily.
But frustratingly, the Wizarding World hadn't solved the problem of Werewolves losing their minds in the past, but it had invented Potions that could force a Werewolf to transform... His eyes trembled as he looked towards Kingsley, realizing his captain didn't seem too afraid.
Delrich looked carefully and realized that the Werewolves weren't making any threatening moves. They were just looking excitedly, their gazes mixed with complex emotions, fixed intently on the Great Hall behind the Aurors.
They... were listening to the child speaking inside!
Delrich suddenly understood.
"Everyone move aside!" Kingsley ordered.
This time, no one resisted. The densely packed Werewolves before them left them helpless, and they instinctively obeyed Kingsley, moving to the sides of the street.
The downtrodden Werewolf Wizard leading the group nodded to Kingsley in thanks, then continued walking toward the Great Hall.
Everyone was quiet, and what struck Delrich was that he saw many children in the crowd. They held their parents' hands, walking together with the adults through the rustling snow. The falling snow seemed to be intimidated by the intense emotion in their eyes and chose to move around them.
The commotion on the street outside was also noticed inside the Great Hall.
Many people stood up in surprise, watching the raggedly dressed people approach. Below the main podium, Umbridge clung tightly to Fudge's arm, while Fudge's face was ashen and pale.
The Wizengamot members on the second floor whispered to each other.
On the main podium, Vaughn took in everyone's expressions: their astonishment, panic, and scrutiny.
The Werewolves finally stopped outside the Great Hall, looking toward it with eyes that were both expectant and uneasy.
Vaughn, like everyone else, looked at the crowd standing in the snow, seeing the elderly and the children among them. He raised his wand and pointed at them.
magic made his voice carry to the sky:
"Ladies and gentlemen, tell me, are those standing before you beasts, or people?"
The crowd inside the Great Hall displayed different reactions to Vaughn's question.
Some Pure-bloods were expressionless, acting as if the Werewolves outside the door were mere weeds, and nothing could shake their resolve and convictions.
Other Pure-bloods had more complex reactions. They whispered to each other and pointed outside. The Pure-blood families these individuals came from were considered to be of the more open-minded type.
As for the reporters from England and various other countries, they were frantically aiming their cameras at the crowd of Werewolves. The originally unremarkable awards ceremony had suddenly transformed into this scene—it was clearly major news.
No one answered Vaughn's question.
The first type of Pure-bloods always maintained a condescending attitude. Don't expect to appeal to their pity by having people show misery in front of them or by using a soul-searching question. The minds of those people had long been ruined and rigidified by the concepts of "Pure-blood Supremacy" and "Family Supremacy." Vaughn had never regarded them as his target.
Only the second type of Pure-bloods and the reporters were the focus of his attention.
If he hadn't tricked Fudge and used the names of Fudgeand the Ministry of Magic, he truly wouldn't have been able to gather these people!
Amidst the continuous clicking of camera shutters, Vaughnanswered his own question:
"In my opinion, they live lives worse than beasts. Does anyone know why they are so destitute?"
The second type of Pure-bloods, the reporters, and even the Wizengamot members on the second floor looked at each other.
However, among the expressionless first type of Pure-bloods, someone suddenly mocked, "I don't care how some stupid fools got themselves into poverty by being lazy and gluttonous, right, Weasley?"
Vaughn looked over. It was a person whose appearance he felt unworthy of remembering.
But he remembered the surname; Fudge had introduced him earlier.
Selwyn, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, a famous Radical among the Pure-bloods.
Selwyn seemed to think he was very humorous. After speaking, he burst into laughter, and several people beside him joined in. Then they saw Vaughn on the main podium raise his wand with a cold expression and point it towards him!
Selwyn was furious: "What, planning to cast a spell on me, Weasley? Then I'll discipline you on behalf of your parents! Expelliarmus—"
Red light shot out from the tip of his wand.
Vaughn casually swept his hand in front of him, and a powerful, clearly contoured armor appeared.
Everyone was astonished to see the red light strike the armor without causing even a ripple. Only then, after waiting for the opponent to make the first move, did Vaughn slowly utter a spell.
A more dazzling and powerful Expelliarmus directly shattered the Shield Charm Selwyn hastily conjured, sending him flying.
The wand spun through the air and landed in Vaughn's hand!
Events unfolded quickly. It wasn't until Selwyn fell to the ground that the others around him reacted. A middle-aged man quickly drew his wand and rushed onto the main podium to shield Vaughn, while the reporters rapidly changed targets, frantically snapping photos of Vaughnand the fallen Selwyn.
The middle-aged man was named Oliver Prewett. Based on the surname, it was clear why he stepped forward to defend Vaughn—Prewett was Molly's maiden name.
Vaughn thanked him: "Thank you, Uncle, but please let me handle this myself."
With that, he tossed the wand he was holding, stepped off the main podium, and walked up to Selwyn and his cronies, who were lying on the ground, unable to get up after being hit by the Expelliarmus, looking fierce on the outside but weak inside.
Looking down at them: "There are always ignorant fools who like to make inappropriate jokes in inappropriate settings!"
Looking at the coldness in his eyes, the few people felt both anger and a faint fear.
The people around them were also whispering.
"What a powerful Shield Charm, Selwyn was just tickling him."
"And it was wandless casting..."
"Damn it, didn't you feel his magic?"
Pure-bloods believe in strength. Perhaps Vaughn should thank Mr. Selwyn; he successfully served as a negative example, reminding the Pure-bloods that Vaughn, who still looked like a child, was far more powerful than they imagined!
At this moment, their attitudes finally became more serious, and they listened attentively to this unique "acceptance speech."
Vaughn looked around at the people, "Mr. Selwyn just now seemed to think that the Werewolves' plight was due to their laziness and clumsiness..."
Such condescending words seem to be present in every world.
You are poor because you are lazy, you are poor because you are stupid.
Of course, that wasn't because they truly believed intelligence and diligence could solve all difficulties; it was just an excuse to maintain a noble persona—I am noble because I am intelligent and diligent, and because I am intelligent and diligent, my nobility is reasonable!
He scoffed inwardly, then turned and loudly asked outside, "Little Barnal, tell me, is it because you are lazy and stupid?"
A young man walked out from the group of Werewolves and replied loudly, "Of course not, sir."
"Then why?"
Little Barnal looked at the magnificent Great Hall before him, then at his own tattered clothes, and tears streamed down his face: "It's because we exiled ourselves to the wilderness..."
"Why did you exile yourselves?"
"Because we were afraid of hurting others... afraid of waking up after every full moon and seeing innocent lives destroyed by our own hands!"
Little Barnal's voice choked; he cried because of the pain of survival, and also because their kindness was unknown to others, and had even just been trampled upon!
Grievance and resentment made his tears flow uncontrollably.
Behind him, the Werewolves also began to sob.
Separated by a door, the well-dressed people in the Great Hall looked at each other in silence. They watched the Werewolves standing in the wind and snow, and watched Vaughn turn around, meeting their gazes one by one.
The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive.
Although some people were still rigid in their thinking, more of them had actually begun to change their attitudes.
Werewolf stories were very popular in the Wizarding World, but in reality, they rarely truly saw Werewolves. They mostly heard about Greyback and his Werewolf army wreaking havoc, and knew little about the other group that self-exiled and wandered, at least most people didn't, before today.
Vaughn looked at the silent people before him; he didn't expect a single demonstration or speech to overturn deeply ingrained beliefs.
He wasn't pursuing those things either.
For him, it was enough if he could change the attitudes of some people today and ensure that today's events spread.
The spread was both for the Werewolves' public opinion and for himself.
And the change in attitude of some people present was related to what he wanted to do!
Amidst the sobs of the Werewolves outside the door, he returned to the main podium: "Ladies and gentlemen, I invented the Wolfsbane Potion, which suppresses the werewolf virus. Theoretically, we can begin to address the Werewolf problem, but it is regrettable that another poison in the human heart is far more terrifying than lycanthropy—it is called prejudice!"
"The Ministry of Magic throws Werewolf affairs to the Beast Office, but ladies and gentlemen, they are not beasts; they have intelligence, emotions, joys and sorrows, and I can even say, they are all noble people!"
"In treating Werewolves, the Ministry of Magic is undoubtedly prejudiced. For many days and nights, I have doubted whether, under the guidance of such prejudice, the Wolfsbane Potion can truly solve the problem."
"I don't know the answer; I can only try to take the first step. I mailed the formula to the Extraordinary Potioneers Association and the Ministry of Magic, to the esteemed Minister Cornelius Fudge. I want to know their insights on this matter."
Saying this, Vaughn looked up to the second floor, where Dumbledore, in purple robes, had somehow sat down. Seeing Vaughn's signal.
He stood up, and amidst everyone's astonished gazes, pointed his wand downwards.
Wisps of smoke spewed from the tip of his wand, thick like paint falling into water, descending and spreading along the ground. Soon, it condensed into two simple human silhouettes.
The moment people saw the two human silhouettes, they recognized them: one short figure was Vaughn Weasley, and the other short and stout one... was Cornelius Fudge!
Fudge's face instantly turned pale.
He seemed to want to rush forward, to say something, but he hesitated under the indifferent gazes of Vaughn and Dumbledore.
Soon, this Memory Magic re-enacted the conversation between Fudge and Vaughn at the Three Broomsticks.
The overall effect was far inferior to a Pensieve, but in this setting, it was enough.
"...Child, I need you to promise me a small condition: use your identity as the inventor of the Wolfsbane Potion to appeal to Werewolves to abide by the 'WerewolfRegistration Act'..."
Hearing the Werewolf Registration Act, the Wizengamotmembers on the second floor whispered among themselves, while the people on the first floor were somewhat bewildered.
Vaughn bowed to Dumbledore, thanking him for his help, then waved his hand to disperse the smoke: "It seems some friends are unclear about the contents of the 'Werewolf Registration Act.' It's an act passed around the 17th century, and in my opinion, it should be called 'Regulations for a Dangerous Beast.'"
"As a magical act, its designers, from the very beginning, imbued it with an oath-binding magic. As long as a Werewolf follows the requirements of the Registration Act, providing detailed personal information, hair, and blood, they are automatically deemed to have agreed to the oath."
"Those who sign the oath cannot violate any provision of the act, such as where they can live, specific times of day they can be active, and what measures they must take during a full moon..."
Vaughn spread his hands: "This so-called act is not for registration at all, but rather to put chains on what they see as beasts!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, I invented the Wolfsbane Potionhoping to bring some help to those kind people outside, not to push them into a fiery pit... Over the past few centuries, the 'Werewolf Registration Act' has proven ineffective; no one would voluntarily lock their freedom and life to an act."
"Or rather, if Werewolves were willing to lock their freedom and lives to the act, what would they become?"
The answer was obvious.
Those kind Werewolves outside would become beasts, beasts belonging to the act's administrators!
Regardless of other aspects, the people present were politically sensitive. Leaving aside the first-class Pure-bloods on the first floor who had come for this very reason, the Wizengamot members on the second floor were already furious.
One short, fiery-tempered old woman took off her shoe and threw it at Fudge's head: "You damned fat dwarf, what are you trying to do?"
"Mrs. Marchbanks, please calm down first."
"Let go of me, Albus, let me beat this scoundrel to death! If I had known he would become so consumed by greed, I shouldn't have let him graduate when I invigilated his exams!"
Dumbledore, over a hundred years old, carefully held back the even older Grandma Marchbanks, while Amelia Bonesalso stood up, blocking the trembling old men and women who were rising to curse Fudge.
Fudge clutched his head in embarrassment, while the loyal Madam Umbridge beside him showed her professional sycophancy, firmly shielding the Minister with her plump body.
This also made her the main target of attacks upstairs. Soon, she was covered in shoes and wigs, her fluffy curly hair even adorned with a set of dentures thrown by who-knows-who.
The reporters were excited, snapping their cameras, documenting this astonishing scene.
They had already thought of the headlines—
Wizengamot Beats Up Minister of magic!
A Group of Hundred-Year-Old Wizards Ganging Up on a 50-Year-Old Man!
The chaotic scene lasted for a while before finally returning to calm thanks to the efforts of Dumbledore and Amelia Bones.
After coaxing a group of old Wizards with one foot in the grave back to their seats, Amelia stood up and said in a loud voice, "Mr. Vaughn Weasley, your speech today was very... special..."
She looked back at the street outside the window, at the Werewolves still waiting quietly in the cold wind, and said, "Thank you for drawing the Wizengamot's attention to the fact that Werewolves are not all Greyback. So, what is your intention?"
Vaughn, looking up at her, calmly replied, "As I just stated, I hope to offer some help to these wandering Werewolves, help free from prejudice and discrimination, help that doesn't shackle their necks. Therefore, I implore you and Mr. Dumbledore to convene a full meeting of the Wizengamot to discuss the establishment of a Werewolf Affairs Committee!"
At these words, the hall once again erupted in discussion.
With the preceding buildup, everyone already understood the nature of the "Werewolf Affairs Committee" he spoke of.
Vaughn ignored their discussions and continued, "The Werewolf problem is a problem for the entire Wizarding World, and it should be borne by the Wizarding Worldcollectively. However, given the Ministry of Magic's outdated system and extreme risks, it clearly cannot undertake such responsibilities. Therefore, I propose that the 'Werewolf Affairs Committee' be independent of the Ministry of Magic, and I propose that the Wizengamotreclaim all management and disposal powers over Werewolves from the Ministry of Magic."
Even Fudge, who had been feigning death, couldn't help himself. He struggled to his feet and roared, "Vaughn Weasley, you... you are splitting the Ministry of Magic!"
If looks could kill, Vaughn would have been riddled with holes long ago.
Fudge could never have imagined that he would one day be defeated by a child.
However, Fudge's roar didn't even earn him a glance from Vaughn, who continued in a steady tone, "Considering the widespread discrimination in the Wizarding World, the composition of the Werewolf Affairs Committee must include at least half Werewolf seats. For the remaining half, I propose that the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards jointly appoint members..."
International Confederation of Wizards!
Everyone, including Fudge, looked up at the second floor, at Dumbledore.
In a trance, people seemed to see this greatest White Wizard of the age, who was rumored not to like power, extending his magical claws...
Chapter 74 The White Demon King!
Breaking News: Hundreds of werewolves gather in Diagon Alley, and Vaughn Weasley's investiture ceremony is marred by numerous mishaps!
"Fudge's reputation is ruined; he was beaten up by a mob of Wessengamo at the medal award ceremony!"
"The Werewolf Affairs Committee: Is it truly for the benefit of werewolves, or is it actually tearing apart the authority of the Ministry of Magic? — The love-hate relationship between Dumbledore and Fudge!"
"Vaughn Weasley, a boy whom everyone underestimated, was kind, intelligent, and compassionate. The werewolves held him in high esteem. According to the werewolves interviewed, Mr. Weasley gave them hope and even paid for their recent living expenses out of his own pocket..."
"Vaughn Weasley, a hypocritical, cunning viper who disguises himself as a child, behold, readers, he has summoned those savage werewolves, his ruthless army, and the wolfsbane potion is not the dawn of the wizarding world, but poisoned bait for Weasley to realize his personal ambitions!"
"Is Dumbledore the kind-hearted headmaster of Hogwarts, or the White Lord plotting to overthrow the Ministry of Magic?"
Late at night, in the principal's office, Vaughn chuckled as he looked at the newspaper.
He peeked out and looked at Dumbledore, who was fiddling with a plate of candy on the other side, and teased, "See that, Albus? Someone's calling you the White Demon. That reporter has some nerve."
Dumbledore's beard twitched, and he kept a straight face, not wanting to speak.
He's very frustrated now. He had agreed to cooperate with Vaughn in promoting the establishment of the "Werewolf Affairs Committee" and, in order to minimize resistance, he agreed to Vaughn's request to bring in the International Wizarding Federation.
Although he had anticipated that his actions might draw criticism, he did not expect the criticism to be far greater than he had imagined.
He underestimated his influence in the wizarding world as the most powerful wizard of his time, an influence that he could not easily diminish by hiding in Hogwarts.
People will naturally pay close attention to the details of such a great person's every move.
At this point, half a day had passed since the medal-awarding ceremony.
From the moment the werewolves appeared in Diagon Alley, the ceremony itself lost its meaning. Wizengamo did not respond to Vaughn's final proposal, and the ceremony could not continue.
As the council and highest court of the magical world, Wizengamor is both a judicial and legislative body.
Its organization is loose, but it wields immense power, and any decision it makes will receive the cooperation of the entire magical world.
This is why Vaughn insisted on holding the event at his own award ceremony, because at other times it would be difficult for him to gather so many Wizengamo members. Without the support of the Wizengamo, the "Werewolf Affairs Committee" could not succeed!
However, on the other hand, such great power must be subject to a set of procedures to constrain it.
Therefore, any decision made by Wissengamo must be discussed and voted on by all members, and it is impossible to get a result in a short period of time.
Dumbledore ate a pile of cockroaches, which cheered him up a bit: "Amelia has sent a letter to all Wizengamo members, preparing for a general meeting in two weeks. You should receive the letter tomorrow, since you are now part of Wizengamo."
Vaughn shrugged: "Just an ordinary member."
"Ordinary members wouldn't cause something this big…" Dumbledore rubbed his temples and asked, "Are those werewolves still in London? What are you going to do about it?"
"I instructed Remus to take them to Muggle society for a while. Many of them are Muggles or Squibs. Once they have legitimate identities in Muggle society and there is no risk of them going out of control during their Full Moon transformation, they can support themselves."
At this point, Vaughn held out his hand to Dumbledore: "Give me 5,000 Galleons!"
Old Deng was stunned: "...What?"
"5000! Galon! Before the Werewolf Affairs Committee is established, I need to prepare enough wolfsbane potion for them to survive two full moons... Tsk tsk, Your Excellency White Demon King, you're not expecting me to foot the bill, are you?"
"..."
After a long pause, Dumbledore finally couldn't stand idly by.
He muttered something, slowly went back to the bedroom, and came back with a bag.
Without batting an eye, Vaughn stuffed the spell-enchanted, palm-sized, and weightless pouch into his satchel: "Don't feel bad about it. Think about it, you stay at Hogwarts all day, eating and lodging without spending a single knaut. What's the use of money? You might as well use it to do something meaningful."
"...Go away, I'm sleepy!"
Vaughn didn't mind, patted his satchel, and said goodbye to Dumbledore.
Following the awarding ceremony, various newspapers urgently published additional reports on the werewolf's appearance in Diagon Alley, Fudge's house collapse, and the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee, making the topic extremely popular.
This also put him in a very good mood.
His original purpose was to make a big fuss about the wolf poison and werewolves, so as to alleviate the plight of those homeless werewolves and promote his own fame.
So whether he's praised or criticized, it doesn't matter to him—being infamous is still being famous!
The day after tomorrow is January 1992, the day the system's reputation points are settled. This "hype" at the end of this month will definitely bring a big increase in his reputation points!
With a hint of anticipation, Vaughn decided to take a good rest for the next two days to recharge.
After Vaughn left, in the portrait in the headmaster's office, Headmaster Black sarcastically mocked Dumbledore: "Ignorant old fool, foolishly played by a child, ruining his lifelong reputation and now his money!"
"Do you regret it now? Serves you right! I knew he was no good all along. Only you bunch of pedantic idiots said I seduced him into depravity—a guy like him, with a head full of scheming at 12, did he need me to seduce him?"
While Black continued rambling on, Dumbledore paused for a moment, then suddenly laughed and said, "At least what he did was meaningful!"
He could tell that Vaughn felt sympathy for those wandering werewolves, perhaps not intensely, but it was real—otherwise, Vaughn wouldn't have needed to offend Fudge; if he wanted to become famous, cooperating with Fudge wouldn't have cost him anything.
Only someone with sympathy for werewolves would push so hard to establish the "Werewolf Affairs Committee"!
Dumbledore felt that this alone made the loss of his reputation and the 5,000 Galleons worthwhile.
Principal Blake, enraged, roared, "Nonsense! Stupidity! To be a principal alongside a bunch of fools like you is the greatest disgrace of my life—"
Dumbledore let him insult him, only saying when he went too far: "Phineas, no matter how much you curse, I will not let you go. Sirius is guilty of many sins, and staying in Azkaban is the most suitable end for him. Don't even think about rescuing him."
Principal Blake, with his serious expression, gradually fell silent. After a long while, he broke down in tears.
"That's the Black family, the last of their bloodline… The Black family is going to die out, Albus…"
"...Alas, take heart, Phineas. You are dead. Don't concern yourself with the affairs of the younger generation."
Early morning, Gryffindor Tower.
Harry was awakened by Seamus Finnigan's screams.
"Merlin—did you see that? Ronnie, Ronnie, did you see that? Your brother caused such a huge mess yesterday!"
Harry fumbled to put on his glasses, just in time to see Ron next door leap up.
He yelled angrily, "Seamus! How many times have I told you not to call me Ronnie! Damn it, one day I'll kill Fred and George!"
Yesterday, Vaughn was awarded the medal, and Ron, as his younger brother, was disappointed that he was not invited to attend.
The twins never miss an opportunity to cheer on their younger brother. Yesterday, they made a point of loudly comforting Ron in a crowded place, calling him by his nickname, and encouraging him to work hard to catch up, saying that there was only a small gap between him and Vaughn—not much, probably a Bill, a Charlie, and a Percy!
Thanks to them, everyone now knows Ron's nickname, and to make matters worse, Malfoy was there at the time.
Thinking back to last night at dinner, that guy was jumping around on the Slytherin table, squeaking out "Ronnie Ronnie."
Ron felt so nauseous that he couldn't eat.
An excited Seamus ignored his protests and slapped a newspaper at Ron's face.
Ron grabbed the newspaper in frustration, about to throw it away, when his eyes were drawn to the photos on it—
Against a somber backdrop, Vaughn stood before a magnificent auditorium, while a fierce wind howled through Diagon Alley, whipping up snowflakes. A group of ragged people stood in the snowstorm, surrounding and huddling around him.
They cheered, their eyes filled with fervent reverence as they looked at Vaughn. Many others, dressed in purple robes and befitting important figures, including Dumbledore and a somber witch, stood solemnly on the periphery of the crowd, as if witnessing some momentous occasion.
The photographer was very perceptive; while capturing this important moment, he also remembered to include the esteemed minister.
A disheveled Fudge and his chubby assistant in a pink knitted dress are squeezed in the corner of the photo, looking panicked and helpless.
Looking at the photo of Vaughn surrounded by crowds and flashing lights, Ron's lips immediately welled up with tears.
Damn it!
It looks really glamorous...
Harry peeked over from the side and saw the photo too, exclaiming, "It looks really impressive..."
Ron retorted defiantly, "Hmph, it's nothing special!"
Despite saying that, he still carefully read the newspaper; below the photo was a shocking headline:
"The Rise of a New Wizarding Star: The Ministry of Magic is Falling Apart!"
The huge, bright red exclamation mark was eye-catching!
On the other side, an excited Seamus was already pulling along Dean Thomas, who had just been startled awake and was still sleepy, and Neville, who looked completely bewildered, and loudly reading the contents of the newspaper:
"...Wolfsbane was Mr. Vaughn Weasley's weapon in his attack on the Ministry of Magic. He incisively pointed out the backwardness and flaws in the Ministry's system. In contrast, Fudge, who held a high position, failed to offer any impressive counterattack. He seemed to be indulging in some kind of fantasy. Even when he uttered the accusation, 'Weasley, you are tearing the Ministry apart,' it sounded weak and superficial..."
"Vaughn is amazing!" Seamus exclaimed. "My uncle has always hated this short, fat man, saying he's the most incompetent Minister of Magic, a lucky guy who got hit on the head by a windfall!"
Upon hearing Vaughn's name, Neville, whose mind finally cleared up a bit, was happy for his friend. Although he didn't know what had happened, he chimed in, "My grandma doesn't like him either."
Soon, their conversation veered to how Vaughn would deal with Fudge, leaving only the Muggle-born Dean Thomas completely bewildered.
Harry and Ron ignored what was happening over there and quickly finished reading the newspaper, finally understanding the whole incident from yesterday.
"Vaughn actually recruited werewolves!"
When he repeated the sentence again, the two were already sitting in the dining room, where a fragrant breakfast was piled up on the Gryffindor table. Ron, who had been starving all night, was stuffing pies into his mouth while still incredulous.
Sitting opposite her, Hermione, her tousled hair buried behind a newspaper, said with dissatisfaction, "It's not about incorporating them; Vaughn is fighting for their rights!"
I don't understand what rights are at all!
Ron, with his boyish idealism, dreamt of "werewolf armies" and "armed forces," boasting to Harry, "There are probably tens of thousands of werewolves in all of England. If Vaughn could recruit them all... Merlin—"
Hermione slammed her hand on the table in anger: "Ronald! Good heavens, I can't believe Vaughn and you are brothers... Your brother is doing something great, and you're still describing werewolves as animals!"
She paused, then added carefully, "And there aren't that many werewolves in England. There's an interview with a werewolf wizard named Remus Lupin, who said there are probably around two thousand in total!"
Ron blushed with anger at her retort, and knowing he was in the wrong, he finally fell silent.
Harry, who was listening to the conversation between the two, didn't quite understand what Vaughn was doing. After all, he came from Muggle society, and his impression of werewolves was based on Ron's description of Greyback's cruelty, as well as what he had just read in the newspaper about the hardships of wandering werewolves who exiled themselves to the wilderness to avoid harming others.
Only now did he understand how true Vaughn's words in the newspaper were—prejudice is the poison in the human heart!
Ron subconsciously viewed werewolves as animals, and Harry couldn't imagine what werewolves were like in other wizarding families, in the minds of the adults who influenced their children.
This made Harry suddenly understand the significance of what Vaughn had done.
Throughout breakfast, Harry seemed lost in thought. He flipped through the newspaper several times, and finally folded it up and put it in his pocket.
Seeing all this, Ron couldn't help but say sourly, "Harry, you've become a little fan of Vaughn too? Planning to cut out his picture and stick it on your bedside like those little girls?"
"...Shut up!"
Harry, embarrassed and annoyed, prepared to walk away.
"Wait a minute, are you going again tonight…" Ron grabbed him, glanced around instinctively, and then lowered his voice: "Are you going to see that mirror again? Take me with you!"
Harry looked at him questioningly: "Didn't you say you didn't want to see it?"
He had taken Ron to see that mirror a few days ago. Ron thought it was a bit eerie, as it could actually see into people's hearts. That day, Ron saw himself in the mirror as the prefect, with everyone in his family proudly applauding him—
Harry realized what was happening, "Ron, you..."
Ron stammered, "I want to look at it some more... just treat it like a beautiful dream, right?"
Harry suddenly became very worried about his best friend. He had seen similar examples on Muggle television, where some people gradually became psychologically abnormal due to long-term repression and jealousy.
He thought about it and agreed.
.........
"Disappeared (Evanesco)!"
As the incantation was chanted, a mouse that was sniffing around on the table suddenly disappeared.
The soft shimmering waters of Black Lake in winter made the bedroom appear to blend seamlessly with the underwater world outside the window. In the center of the room, Vaughn gently held his wand, closing his eyes to sense the surroundings.
In his perception, an obscure magical power was enveloping countless fine "dust particles," which were scattered throughout the indoor air.
They are so small that they are completely invisible to the naked eye, and if the spell was not cast by him, or if there is a magical and mystical connection between him and the spell, he would not be able to perceive it.
The term "microscopic" refers to the feedback he receives from his perception; these feedbacks seem to penetrate the pores between every molecule, and no macroscopic object, whether it be air, a table, or a bed sheet, can block them.
They were evenly scattered throughout the dormitory, with only a trace of the Vanishing Curse's residual power maintaining their fragile presence.
Waiting for the curse to be reversed or the spell to be lifted.
However, this power is so weak that it requires only a tiny bit of magical interference—
Vaughn gently traced an arc with his wand, releasing a meaningless burst of magic that rippled through the air.
But to Vaughn, at the microscopic level, it felt like a raging storm.
The remaining power of the Vanishing Curse surged and collapsed amidst the turbulent waves of magic. The countless "dust particles" it twisted and projected into his perception, like stars obscured by dark clouds, extinguished one by one after the ripples subsided.
Vaughn opened his eyes, looked at the spot where the rat had disappeared, and cast a vanishing spell in reverse.
But nothing happened.
The remaining power of the spell was destroyed. Without its protection, the rat had transformed into the most basic unit of matter, becoming a member of the ocean of particles.
Just as Professor McGonagall said, it becomes everything!
"A terrible curse..."
Vaughn's expression was somewhat grave. He tried several more uncurse-breaking and resurrection spells to confirm that the rat had completely disappeared and could never be brought back to life.
I couldn't help but think of a certain ability I saw in an anime in my previous life: Dust Release—a powerful force that breaks matter down into atomic states.
The Vanishing Charm has a very similar effect.
This is also why Vaughn was interested in the Vanishing Charm.
Vaughn prefers a structured life. With the wolfsbane incident behind him, he has no plans to develop any new potions until the Werewolf Affairs Committee is established and operational.
The growth of reputation points cannot be achieved by blindly piling up fame.
He had tested it two years ago.
When he published his paper on magic extraction methods in "Extraordinary Potions," he attracted a bunch of pharmacists because he was testing the system's definition of "reputation."
He guessed that the reputation required by the system was similar to a force that drives magic in this world—emotion. Emotion could also be regarded as a kind of power in this world, even though it had no quantitative standard and was invisible.
Reputation may be the emotional response others have to him when they hear or think of his name. This response can be joy or admiration, or it can be disgust or hatred.
This is the conclusion Vaughn reached after a period of time when he became a troll, sending letters to hundreds of pharmacists and engaging in heated debates with them.
Starting in the second month after the test, his monthly reputation points increased by 1 point.
However, Vaughn also discovered that this emotional feedback was not limitless. He later tested it again, expanding the scope of the "victims" of the criticism to the magical communities of countries like France. The result was that they did not add another reputation point to him.
Vaughn was unclear about the specifics, but he guessed that the spread and growth of fame might involve some more hidden aspects of the world's mysterious system.
There is a threshold limit to it. Just like when you throw a stone into a lake, the ripples it creates shake the water plants. The shaking of the water plants is the feedback given by the things affected by the ripples.
But this ripple will eventually dissipate and disappear, and the place where the ripple finally disappears is the upper limit of the threshold that it can affect.
From that moment on, Vaughn began to focus on one of the most unpredictable forces in the world—fate!
Vaughn believes that the reason those foreign pharmacists couldn't grant him reputation points was likely due to real-world national boundaries, which prevented him from forming a connection with them in terms of destiny.
In practical terms, his influence couldn't reach beyond England, and he couldn't interfere with the lives of those apothecaries. So even if they disliked or hated him, it wouldn't be reflected in the system's calculations.
Perhaps only a connection of fate can explain this phenomenon.
Vaughn's choice of Wolfsbane Potion as his trump card for advancing to Potions Master is still a test.
The wolfsbane medicine itself is unlikely to cause a sensation; only through his hype can it influence the fate of many people, and it even has a good chance of going abroad and influencing even more people.
But it was precisely because this campaign was so intense and eye-catching that Vaughn felt that any of his recent achievements in potions could be overshadowed by the emotional response to the "Wolfsbane Potion Incident."
So he decided to temporarily put aside the potion and focus his energy on improving his own power.
Tomorrow is the day reputation points are settled.
This morning, Vaughn began to review the spells he knew, preparing to select some to practice and study in depth over the next few days, using his reputation points.
The "Ironclad Curse" and the "Disarming Curse" definitely need to be explored further.
He had never let up on these two spells since he learned them a few years ago. The "Ironclad Spell" goes without saying; this seemingly simple spell is the only means of protection for wizards. Apart from some powerful black magic, it can block most spells.
The "Disarming Charm" is a very effective means of attack, since most people, except for a small number of powerful wizards, cannot do without a wand.
He lost most of his abilities after confiscating a wizard's wand.
After deciding on these two spells, Vaughn found himself in a dilemma when choosing other directions, as he wanted to enrich his offensive and defensive methods.
In terms of defense, we can continue to study Polymorphism to supplement the defense in addition to the "Ironclad Charm".
But when it came to offense, he was unsure which option to choose.
He currently has two directions: one is to study memory magic such as "Levitation" to attack, harass, and restrain enemies through memory, in order to assist "Disarming Charm" and "Stunning Charm".
Another direction is to strive to develop a powerful spell that the enemy cannot resist.
That's how the "vanishing spell" came into his view.
"Tsk, how come I never noticed before? I actually have a bit of decision-making difficulties..."
Vaughn stroked his chin, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the open system panel, unable to make a decision for a moment.
Both have their advantages and disadvantages.
Once memory magic is mastered to a certain level, it can be activated silently and without a staff, making it an ideal tool for ambushing others. However, it lacks strong destructive power and is also countered by skilled memory magic users. If it encounters Voldemort, it is likely to be useless.
The Vanishing Curse is powerful enough, but it originated from Transfiguration and was not originally intended for destruction. Not only is there a counter-curse, but it is also countered by Transfiguration. According to Vaughn's tests, the life that vanishes still retains memories and thinking abilities. If it encounters a master of Transfiguration, such as Dumbledore, the master can restore it on its own.
Vaughn was in a bad mood and feeling distressed, so when he was about to go to the dining hall and passed by the common room and saw the prefect, he cast a Stunning Charm on him.
Before the prefect could even mount a resistance, his eyes rolled back and he fell off the sofa.
The snakes fell silent, and Malfoy buried his face in the sofa cushions, trembling like an ostrich.
All of this left Vaughn feeling utterly bored. He could only bully these weaklings. When would he ever be able to punch Voldemort and kick Dumbledore?
Selwyn, the weakling who was once defeated by his Disarming Charm, and Lupin, the weakling who was pushed out the door by his Silent Wandless Flight Charm, both expressed that they had something to say...
Chapter 75 Ron and Harry's Social Time
That evening, while Vaughn was still trying out various spells, he received a letter from Zhu Weiqiong.
The letter was from my mother; inside was just a piece of parchment that read, "Throw me into the fireplace."
This was certainly not because Molly had gone mad and demanded that her son burn her; rather, the parchment was titled "Throw Me into the Fireplace," and it was an alchemical tool used for fireplace communication.
The thrifty Weasleys rarely used such fancy things. This time, probably because the wolfsbane incident had such a great impact, Molly and Arthur felt that a few letters couldn't explain things clearly, so they simply had a fireplace call.
There's a small fireplace in the dorm, but it can't be used for communication because alchemical items like "throw me into the fireplace" utilize the Floo Network.
Only the large fireplaces in the common rooms of the various houses and the fireplaces in the professors' offices are connected to the Floo Network at Hogwarts.
Vaughn didn't go to the common room, but went straight to Snape.
The professor, still dressed in his sinister attire, stood amidst a dense array of potion ingredients, squinting his eyes, and slowly spoke in his classic sarcastic tone: "Hmm—the renowned Vaughn Weasley, the newly crowned Potions Master, why aren't you indulging in the adoration and flattery of those little fools, instead of graced by the presence of a humble Potions Professor's office?"
Vaughn glanced at the prepared materials beside Snape and knew that this arrogant professor had actually been waiting for him all along.
But I'm sorry, he's not here to study potions today.
Vaughn pulled out "Throw Me into the Fireplace" and said earnestly, "Professor, I'd like to borrow the fireplace for a moment."
"..."
Vaughn seemed to see dark clouds gathering above Snape's head. The Potions Professor's face stiffened for a moment, then he gave a cold snort, flicked his robes, and walked away.
Seeing how bad his mood was, Vaughn added insult to injury before he left the office: "By the way, Professor, I want to practice spells recently, so I won't be coming for a while. Don't wait for me!"
Snape stumbled.
The door slammed shut with a loud bang the next moment.
With such a bad temper, I wonder who's going to be in trouble next.
Vaughn paused to mourn for the unknown unfortunate soul, walked to the fireplace, pulled over Snape's favorite recliner, settled comfortably, and then tossed the parchment into the fire.
The parchment immediately burst into flames, and the fire in the fireplace seemed to be catalyzed, expanding rapidly.
Before long, three human figures emerged from the fire.
"Vaughn—my darling!"
Molly screamed.
Vaughn rubbed his temples; this was why he didn't want to make a call in the common room...
"Mom and Dad, and Ginny, are you home yet? How's Charlie doing in Romania?"
He quickly asked first, lest his mother get emotional and start nagging again.
Molly's attention was indeed diverted: "We just got back, darling. Mom and Dad are so sorry we couldn't be with you. After seeing the newspaper, you have no idea how worried I was, Merlin. Just thinking about all the difficult things you had to face from the adults, I—"
The chubby Molly clutched her chest, on the verge of fainting.
Arthur, who was standing next to her, quickly patted her back.
Vaughn said helplessly, "Mom, the newspapers are exaggerating. Besides, Dumbledore was with me at the time, and Uncle Oliver was there too."
"I wouldn't be angry if you hadn't mentioned them!" Molly miraculously recovered, put her hands on her hips and exclaimed, "How could Dumbledore let a child like you stand up for him? And Oliver, he actually had the nerve to tell the whole family that you defeated Selwyn. As an uncle, how could he let his nephew face an adult wizard? He better pray that I won't find him next time I go to my uncle's house!"
Molly and Oliver are not biological siblings; she only has two older brothers.
Molly kept berating Dumbledore and Oliver, while Arthur's expression gradually turned dazed, until Ginny jumped up in frustration, "Mom, let me talk to Vaughn!"
Mo Li finally stopped, still wanting more.
"Wait, baby, Mommy isn't finished yet… Vaughn, Mommy is so proud of your kindness and perseverance. My child, I read the report, and it's hard to imagine that there are such kind wanderers among the werewolves. You did the right thing by helping them. Don't worry about those who disagree or threaten you. Mommy and Daddy will always support you in doing the right thing!"
"...Thank you, Mom."
Vaughn said, then looked at Arthur: "It might have some impact on Dad. Dumbledore and I messed with Fudge, who is Dad's boss after all."
Despite his concern, Arthur showed no fear: "Don't worry, son. I've disliked that short, fat guy for a long time anyway. I can just quit my job. Besides, the Weasleys are a pure-blood family."
In the magical world, pure-blood families represent many things, the most typical being the intricate and intertwined relationships between families.
Outsiders would probably find it hard to imagine that Weasley and Malfoy, who are at odds with each other, are actually relatives.
Targeting one pureblood could lead to the emergence of another group of purebloods, which is the secret behind the continued existence of pureblood families in the magical world.
Vaughn recalled Arthur from the original story, who still leisurely went to work at the Ministry of Magic even after Voldemort was resurrected and took control of it.
He felt a little relieved.
Afterwards, he talked with his parents for a while. Although their rambling was mostly disorganized, Vaughn did not get impatient.
He appreciated their concern.
They don't care what achievements he has made, they only worry about whether he has been wronged, and they will support him as long as what he wants to do is right.
Especially when Ginny started kicking her parents' legs in her anxiety, finally getting a chance to speak and crying that she missed him, Vaughn felt his heart suddenly find peace.
"Vaughn, when are you coming home?"
"Hmm—it'll probably be another ten weeks or so."
Vaughn played a little trick with the timing, and sure enough, when Ginny heard "week" and felt that it wasn't a long time, she immediately felt less sad.
She ran off happily, then quickly returned carrying a fluffy little thing: "Vaughn, I received your Christmas present! I love it! What do you think we should name it?"
The furry thing nestled in her arms, sticking out its tongue blankly.
It was a fluffy creature, a very gentle magical animal. Vaughn had seen one at the Scamander's house last time and then asked Newt for one.
This amazing animal is perfect for children and is a legal pet.
After discussing pet names with my sister for a while, the "throw me into the fireplace" phase was almost over.
After saying a reluctant goodbye to Ginny and promising her parents that she would write to them if anything came up, the phone call ended as the flames in the fireplace receded.
Vaughn sighed, suddenly feeling that time seemed to be passing too quickly.
I feel a little melancholy.
Then, that lingering melancholy vanished as he left the potions office.
In the dimly lit corner by the door, an old man in a light pink bathrobe stood there with a smile...
"Albus, what would the students think if they knew that their beloved principal was actually a voyeuristic old scoundrel?"
"Everyone will understand, Vaughn. You have no idea how happy I am when I see a child who is so mature that it's worrying, able to patiently talk to his family."
"Then you'd better be careful, that child might cast a curse on you from behind one day."
"I'd be happy to be cursed!"
How come I never noticed this strange quirk of yours before?
"Child, when an old man decides to be shameless, there's no way you can argue with him."
"...Fine, you win. Where do we go now?"
Having lost this verbal exchange, Vaughn gave up on competing with a shameless old madman.
By this time, the two had become invisible under Dumbledore's magic, and they walked slowly through Hogwarts, which was gradually falling silent as night fell.
Hearing his question, Dumbledore winked at him: "I'll help you, so you should help me too."
As they spoke, they had already reached the fifth floor. Vaughn immediately realized, "Harry still comes to look in the mirror every day?"
"yes..."
Dumbledore sighed, "I was busy helping you the other day and didn't have time to keep an eye on him. Now he's getting more and more addicted to it."
Vaughn couldn't help but sneer, "So, why did you even think of showing him this in the first place?"
"This involves some of my little plans!"
Dumbledore, in a very childlike way, kept everyone in suspense.
Vaughn scoffed. Of course he knew why: Dumbledore wanted to confirm whether Harry's inner desires had deviated from his expectations, and he was also making arrangements for the tests to come.
Only by familiarizing Harry with the Mirror of Erised, and then revealing that everything it reflects is false, can Harry finally find the correct answer to pass the test.
But in Vaughn's view, such artificial tests are meaningless; everything is under control, which means there are no variables.
The truth is, when a person truly faces danger and the cruel tricks of fate, variables are everywhere.
People can only grow by making mistakes; in fact, they are learning to cope with those variables.
Old Deng will probably only understand after this, so the so-called test is only this one time in the first year.
Vaughn didn't bother to say more. Since Dumbledore had asked him for help, he would naturally help out of good faith in the transaction.
"what do you want to do?"
"Tell Harry, just as you warned me before, that what the Magic Mirror shows is just an illusion, a dream, and that he should return to reality."
Vaughn hardened his face: "Why don't you say these things yourself?"
Dumbledore smiled and said, "Don't be so resistant, Vaughn. Harry has always considered you a good friend. You two should be closer."
Vaughn rolled his eyes. In the end, the old man still wanted to turn the Iron Triangle into the Iron Quadrangle.
Dream on!
As the two were talking, they heard movement in the distance down the corridor. Although they couldn't see anyone, they could hear footsteps and faint voices.
"Ron, you stepped on my foot again."
"Sorry, Harry, I'm a little nervous."
"You weren't like this last time, Ron. To be honest, I'm a little worried about you."
"What? Don't worry, I just want to take a look, just one look."
Ron?
Vaughn looked at Dumbledore and found that Dumbledore was also a little confused. It seemed that he didn't know that Ron had come along today.
The advice to Harry would be more appropriate to say when he's indulging in it in private. With Ron around, Harry is unlikely to become addicted to the Mirror of Erised.
Thinking of this, Vaughn's mood brightened again: "Looks like I won't be needed today. Let's go, Albus, I need to go back and rest."
Dumbledore twitched his beard in frustration: "Well, let's wait until they've finished reading before we leave, at least to make sure they don't run into Quirinus."
Vaughn shrugged and didn't press him further.
As the two were talking, Harry and Ron also entered the classroom. The moment they appeared after removing their Invisibility Cloaks, Ron couldn't wait to lean over the mirror.
As Harry put away the Invisibility Cloak, he worriedly reminded him, "Be careful not to break it; it might belong to Dumbledore."
"No, I wouldn't bear to break it."
Ron stared at the mirror, mesmerized.
"Uh, Ron, what did you see?"
"I see… lots of people are taking pictures of me…" Ron murmured, his freckles gradually turning red. "I see! It turns out I invented a super powerful potion, and everyone is looking at me with admiration. Merlin! Harry, I got the Order of Merlin, First Class! First Class!"
Ah, this...
Harry had a strong sense of déjà vu; wasn't this the picture of Vaughn they had seen in the newspaper that morning?
He suddenly felt like complaining.
Just how much did Ron envy and be jealous of Vaughn that he even imitated Vaughn's shape in his innermost desires?
In the corner of the room, Vaughn and Dumbledore also wore strange expressions.
"Hmm—Vaughn, it seems you brothers have a good relationship..."
"You're getting senile; he's just jealous."
"Jealousy can sometimes be a driving force!"
The two were bickering as usual when Harry, looking at Ron who was practically lying on the mirror, suddenly bit his lip, stepped forward, pulled Ron away, and then tore off the black cloth to cover the mirror.
Suddenly waking from his dream, Ron was still a little dazed: "Harry...?"
Harry stared at him, "Something's wrong with you, Ron!"
"Uh, I..."
"You know that mirrors are all fake, right? You were the one who told me last time that these magic mirrors are usually not good things."
Ron was a little indignant: "I just wanted to take a look, but you've been looking for days and nothing's happened."
"You didn't seem as relaxed as you are now," Harry said seriously, taking a deep breath. "And I've decided I'm not coming back!"
"...What?"
Harry sat down next to Ron, staring blankly at the ground. "That's right. I've been obsessed with the reflection in the mirror these past few days. In it, my mom and dad aren't dead, and there's a whole family... But Ron, they're not real. This morning when I was reading the newspaper, I suddenly realized that I've been completely out of touch with reality these past few days."
"Hermione is right. Vaughn is doing something great. He's the same age as us, but he's already working to save others. And me? I spend every single day looking in the mirror…"
As he spoke, he pulled out the newspaper he had folded that morning from his pocket and said to Ron, "You're not wrong to say that I've become a little fan of Vaughn. He made me realize that I can no longer indulge in fantasy. I should learn from him and do something more meaningful!"
Ron was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "For example, finishing your homework, right?"
Harry paused for a moment, then burst into laughter with Ron.
What a vibrant scene of youth! The young man has come to his senses after making a mistake and has turned over a new leaf.
Unfortunately, a burst of applause ruined the moment. Dumbledore had somehow dispelled the magic, and while clapping vigorously, he wiped his eyes and said, "How touching, Vaughn! Look, Harry has taken you as his role model and broken free from the illusory lies of the Mirror of Erised!"
He also blew his nose forcefully.
But the two young boys in front of the mirror were stunned. They stared at Dumbledore, who had appeared in the corner, and Vaughn, who stood next to him with a stern face.
Harry blushed, and Ron almost groaned as he subconsciously asked, "When...when did you get here?"
Vaughn remained expressionless: "Always here, Your Excellency Ronald Weasley, recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class!"
"ah--"
Ron screamed and scrambled away, Harry covering his face with his sleeve and hurriedly following behind.
Watching their hasty retreat, Dumbledore burst into laughter.
Vaughn scoffed, "You old lecher, is this how you raise your savior? Be careful Harry doesn't socially die and turn to the dark side!"
Dumbledore blinked: "With you as an example, I believe he won't."
"...Shut up!"
Dumbledore, who had shut his mouth, laughed for a while longer. Looking at the Mirror of Erised, now covered by a black cloth, he suddenly said, "You and Harry are both braver than me..."
He shook his head, stopped looking at the mirror, waved his hand, and moved it somewhere.
He turned and left, saying to Vaughn before he did, "Severus told me you're going to practice spells next. I suggest you try memory magic more. The answer you're looking for, you already know it!"
"The answer you're looking for, you already know it."
That night, Dumbledore's words kept echoing in Vaughn's mind.
What answer is he looking for?
The problem is obvious—the impact of negative emotions on the mind required to resolve black magic.
This has been the most troubling problem for Vaughn. A few days ago, when he was chatting with Dumbledore and Dumbledore was urging him to learn ancient magic, he mentioned this very issue.
For the past few years, if Vaughn really wanted to learn dark magic, he had a way to get his hands on it; the Knockturn Alley underground district was a good option.
Black magic is rampant over there. Although black magicians have little integrity, sell a lot of counterfeit goods, and often try to double-cross others, they are not honest.
However, if you try a few more times, you can not only choose from various dark magic spells, but you should at least have no problem acquiring the three Unforgivable Curses.
The main reason Vaughn hadn't considered it was because he was somewhat afraid of the mind-distorting nature of dark magic.
They require extremely strong malice.
This explanation might not fully capture the difficulty, but an example will make it clear. Vaughn clearly remembers that in the original story, Bellatrix Lestrange killed Sirius Black, Harry's only remaining family member.
Harry witnessed his godfather's death, and at that moment, his anger, brutality, hatred, and other negative emotions towards Bella must have reached the peak of his life.
Driven by that emotion, he recited the Cruciatus Curse on Bella.
Even under such intense negative emotions, his Cruciatus Curse was still mocked by Bella as "weak and powerless".
Harry was nearly an adult at the time, and his magic was not weak. Bella mocked not his magic, but the darkness in his heart.
Even the Cruciatus Curse unleashed under such extreme conditions seemed insufficiently powerful and dark to Bella, which gives an idea of just how terrifying the negative emotions required for the Unforgivable Curse must be.
Vaughn doesn't believe any normal person could maintain their rationality and normal thinking while having such terrifying negative emotions accumulating in their mind all day long.
He did want to learn dark magic, but if the price was turning himself into a madman, then he'd rather not.
Lying in bed, Vaughn thought about Dumbledore's words:
"From what he's saying, the way to counteract the mental effects of dark magic is memory magic?"
Thinking about it, he suddenly sat up and took out the magic book that Dumbledore had given him, titled "A Journey Through the Past and Present of Memory Magic".
Turning to the title page, I saw the author's handwritten cursive script:
Memory is the garment of the soul.
At that time, he had just come into contact with memory magic. At first, he thought that this passage was the author's literary sentimentality. Later, he found that advanced transfiguration required the application of memory magic to simulate the soul, and then he thought that the author was implying its versatility.
Now, his understanding of that statement has changed once again.
"The answer has always been right in front of me... Memory is the outer garment of the soul, and the purpose of the garment is to shield it from wind, rain, and dust. When it gets dirty or polluted, you can change it, but the soul behind the garment remains pure and flawless..."
"But how do I weave this coat?"
Now Vaughn has some understanding of memory magic. So-called emotions and memories are not separate entities that do not affect each other, but rather different manifestations of subjective cognition when a person's brain is active.
They are essentially one entity; it's not that you can separate them, fabricate a false memory, and generate the corresponding emotions.
The emergence of emotions can actually trigger all memories. For example, when a person feels humiliated and angry, he will recall all his humiliating experiences, and may even be able to trace them back to the beginning of his memory.
If you want to deceive yourself with false memories, it means you have to modify all the memories in your mind and create a life that is realistic enough. Otherwise, your own cognitive abilities will tell you that what you are thinking is fake.
Vaughn opened the system panel and browsed through all the memory spells he had learned.
Spells of Mind Control, Oblivion, Sweet Dreams, Nightmares, False Memories...
Looking at the spells one by one, Vaughn pondered for a long time and finally came up with some ideas:
"If I were to weave an outer garment for myself, firstly, I would use a false memory charm to create a sufficiently large framework. This framework would need to be able to accommodate the entire life of a dark wizard, and it would need to be logical and reasonable, such as the reasons for his fall into darkness, why he became enslaved by dark magic, and why he went mad..."
"...The Dream Charm and Nightmare Charm amplify the effects of memories, making the beautiful ones profound enough before destroying them, making the pain unforgettable, providing a convincing reason for the fall. Finally, there's the Forgetfulness Charm, which ensures that once this 'outer garment' is corrupted to a certain degree, it can be 'destroyed with a single click'..."
Legilimency will participate in the entire weaving process, followed by Occlumency, which is responsible for protecting the true memories!
Having come this far in the planning, Vaughn was already somewhat taken aback.
He calculated that to complete this dark magic cloak, he would need to use about a dozen memory spells, and not just the kind he had a rough grasp of, but at least level 3.
This is undoubtedly a huge undertaking, and he has no way of verifying its effectiveness at the moment.
Although in his view, there was nothing wrong with this line of thinking.
"It seems this won't be resolved quickly; we'll need a large number of test subjects to verify if my ideas are correct..."
Vaughn was a bit of a headache. If it were an ordinary wizard, he might have to spend his whole life on this. No wonder this method is rarely heard of in the magical world.
The road ahead is difficult, but Vaughn is still in a good mood.
Even the hardest road is better than no road at all. In order to be able to enjoy gossip at will in the future, while I'm still young and can still have fun, I can accept working hard.
What made him feel even better was that after lying in the dark for a while, the clock struck midnight, 1991 became a thing of the past, and January 1, 1992 officially began.
The system silently popped up a message in front of me:
[Previous month's reputation points have been settled]
Warn opened the system panel.
[Host: Vaughn Weasley]
[Magic Scale: 456 (500 for a typical adult wizard)]
[Talents: Charms 7, Dark Magic 6, Polymorph 8, Potions 10, Herbalism 6, Divination 2 (Maximum 10)]
[Spells: Occlumency LV5 (MAX), Levitate LV4 (11/16), Levitate LV4 (9/16), Armored Charm LV4 (9/16), Disarming Charm LV4 (8/16)... Divine Shield LV1 (4/6), Sweet Dreams LV1 (3/4), Patronus Charm LV1 (4/8), Vanish Charm LV1 (2/6), Legilimency LV1 (3/8)...]
[Potions: "Vorn Beauty" series, Wolfsbane Potion, etc...]
[Reputation Points: 22]
The last time Vaughn added points was on November 1st, when he kept 1 point. He also kept the 6 points from the previous month when the December settlement was completed.
In total, the Wolfsbane Potion incident will directly boost his monthly reputation points to 15 points!
This is a full nine points more than before, one event, exceeding his efforts over the past few years!
Vaughn instinctively hugged the fruit tea tightly, and he suddenly had the illusion that he was very wealthy...