Chapter 82 Watching the Show and Tacit Understanding
Why Voldemort went to Albania is a question that is difficult for book fans to understand, even in Vaughn's previous life.
Although, in Vaughn's view, the truth is quite simple.
It's hidden in a later sentence from Helena—"It's a lonely place!"
Voldemort, who grew up in an orphanage, was accompanied by loneliness throughout his life. He had no relatives or friends. Perhaps it was because Helena had once mentioned the "Land of Solitude" that he subconsciously hid there after his death.
The specific reasons are not important; what matters is the event that led to those reasons.
Voldemort knew about Albania because Helena told him, and it was there that he found the Ravenclaw tiara that Helena had hidden.
Vaughn had been trying to find the Horcrux that was thrown into the Room of Requirement, but he had returned empty-handed time and time again because there was just too much junk in the Room of Requirement.
Since the end of last year, when he focused on the research and development of wolfsbane medicine, Warn has completely given up on finding it.
Anyway, Dumbledore must be more anxious than him!
Even Snape didn't know that Dumbledore was tracking Quirrell's whereabouts in order to find the Horcruxes!
Vaughn said calmly, "Now that we've traced it back to Albania, with that destination in mind, I think you could try investigating whether Tom ever went there, when he went, and then try to figure out why he went based on that time period."
Dumbledore pondered for a moment, then nodded: "That makes some sense, but it's been too long, and investigating it would be very difficult."
Vaughn shrugged: "There's nothing we can do about it. If you can't find the Horcrux, you'll never be able to kill Tom... Think about it, what's the difficulty of finding the Horcrux? You'll have to arrange for Tom to be resurrected before you can kill him again. Doesn't that feel even worse?"
"..."
Dumbledore's old face wrinkled like a chrysanthemum.
In this world, the dead cannot be killed again. To kill Voldemort, you have to bring him back to life!
After a moment of frustration, Dumbledore put his arm around Vaughn's shoulder and said, "Alright, let's not talk about these unpleasant things anymore. Come on, Vaughn, let's go see Harry."
"What, what kind of show have you prepared for Mr. Savior this time?"
"Don't say that, child. I was just giving him a little guidance, a gentle push on his way to the stage!"
Vaughn scoffed: "Be careful not to push him off the stage... Who's the villain this time?"
Dumbledore did not answer, and with Vaughn, they disappeared from Slytherin.
They saw Malfoy as they passed the common room.
For some reason, he was staring blankly at the door of the lounge.
So when Dumbledore and Vaughn opened the door, they saw the common room door suddenly open but no one in sight. Malfoy's face turned deathly pale, and he screamed and ran away.
"Oh, sorry, I think I startled him when I came here."
"Your apology lacks any sincerity. You should at least compensate him for his emotional distress. I don't mind passing it on, Albus!"
"I have no money!"
Having already been swindled out of more than 10,000 Galleons by Vaughn, Dumbledore has become shameless.
This time, Dumbledore arranged for the stage not to be in the castle.
The two stealthily left the castle, followed the stone path, and bypassed the deserted Quidditch pitch.
Finally, they arrived at the Forbidden Forest.
From afar, Vaughn saw Harry riding a flying broomstick, using the dense canopy of trees to hide in mid-air.
Below where he stood, beside a huge oak tree, Snape grabbed Quirrell by the collar and said something.
That fierce and menacing look, he's definitely a villain!
Vaughn felt there were absolutely no surprises:
"Yes, Professor Snape, there's no one in all of Hogwarts more like a villain than him!"
...
"Snape... he really is that villain!"
Harry's hands were trembling with excitement.
He felt as if he had been kissed by Lady Luck today.
This afternoon, he caught the Golden Snitch and helped the team defeat Hufflepuff.
This was a long-awaited victory, and Gryffindor temporarily moved up to second place in the House Cup, with only Slytherin ahead of them.
Because he was so excited, he stayed in the locker room a little longer than usual. He was worried that he might miss dinner, but unexpectedly, it was during this extra time that he discovered Snape sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest.
Harry didn't think twice and immediately mounted his broom and followed.
He didn't consider why Snape, as a powerful wizard, hadn't discovered him; he was simply proud of his own cleverness and excited about the secret he had discovered.
He saw Quirrell standing under a huge oak tree, waiting for Snape.
As darkness fell, Harry couldn't see Quirrell and Snape's expressions clearly, but he could glean their meaning from their conversation, which was all the more obvious:
"Severus, why do you want to see me?"
"Don't play dumb, you know what I want to ask, the Philosopher's Stone..."
Hearing that familiar word from Snape made Harry almost lose control of his broom for a moment. He quickly used Occlumency to calm himself and focused intently on eavesdropping:
"...Have you figured out how to subdue Hagrid's monster? Don't try to fool me, Quirrell, your little tricks won't work on me..."
Harry gripped the handle tightly.
This dialogue is so clear. Poor Professor Quirrell, he's being pressured by the evil Snape!
He was so frightened that he stammered and couldn't say a word.
Just by listening to his rapid breathing, you could feel his fear!
But Harry knew he couldn't stand up for Professor Quirrell alone.
Recalling his near-death experience in the fourth-floor corridor a few months ago, Harry was both furious at Snape's ruthlessness and somewhat fearful.
So he tried to hide himself and make sure he wasn't discovered.
Only after Snape finished threatening Quirrell, put on his cloak, and hurried away did Harry quietly pilot his flying broom, gliding silently through the soft canopy of the jungle, taking a detour back to the Quidditch pitch.
Before leaving, he glanced once more at Professor Quirrell, who was shivering under the big oak tree.
His eyes were full of respect!
What a respectable person he was, he didn't even yield to Snape's threats!
Harry decided to quickly share this information with his friends and discuss how to respond.
On the other side, seeing Harry riding away on his broomstick in the distance, Vaughn turned his gaze to Quirrell under the big oak tree.
His magical eyes could see that Quirrell's life force was weak and ephemeral, like a candle flame in the wind, as if it would be extinguished with the next flicker.
Vaughn asserted, "He won't live much longer."
"well..."
Dumbledore sighed, "Yes, that's why I decided to move the plan forward. It seems Tom has recently awakened again. Without unicorn blood, he can only feed on Quirinus's life force..."
"Speaking of which, why didn't you let Harry know that Quirrell was the man in the black robes?"
"To borrow a phrase you once said, prejudice is a poison in the heart. Harry is prejudiced against Severus, and that's what I want to teach him—don't let prejudice blind you!"
"That makes sense…but to be honest, Albus, I think you'd better teach the professor a lesson first; his prejudice against Harry is even more outrageous."
"..."
The pleasant atmosphere was immediately ruined by Vaughn's words.
Dumbledore was speechless.
When Harry rushed back to Gryffindor, the entire Gryffindor was celebrating.
Since Charlie graduated, the Gryffindor Quidditch team has declined year after year, losing more than winning, and every victory has been hard-won.
Harry saw the twins running around in the crowd, and to celebrate their victory, they decided to sell Canary Cookies at half price.
However, Harry suspected they were clearing out inventory, as their products had been sluggish since the end of last year when the twins used Canary Cookies to bankrupt many small groups.
The two are reportedly trying to develop something new.
After politely declining the twins' sales pitch and brushing off the enthusiastic greetings of the lion cubs, Harry found Hermione and Ron.
The latter, sporting a lion's head, was competing with Seamo and Neville to see who could roar the loudest.
Upon seeing Harry, he let out a huge roar of joy, which blew Harry's hair wildly.
What is this?
Harry stared at Ron's lion head and wiped the drool off his face.
Ron shook his head and changed back to normal: "Zoko's Lion Throat Candy, isn't it cool? Wood went all the way to Hogsmeade to buy it."
"Come on, Harry, take in the cheers! What a joyous day! We've finally won! Did you see the Slytherin guys' faces when the game ended? They were as black as the bottom of a pot! We'll catch up with their House Cup points soon!"
"Wait, let's go out."
Harry had to interrupt Ron, who led his two friends out of the common room and into a secluded room.
Hermione asked in confusion, "Harry, is something wrong? I was just about to ask you where you went. We only found you weren't there when we got back to Gryffindor."
Harry took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart and left himself at the Quidditch pitch, only to unexpectedly discover that Snape and Quirrell were meeting in the Forbidden Forest, where Snape was forcing Quirrell to reveal what had happened.
He concluded, "It's obvious that Snape is the man in black on Halloween. He wants the Philosopher's Stone and is threatening Professor Quirrell to help him deal with Fluffy."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, her expression conflicted. Although she thought about it and felt that Snape was the most likely villain among the professors, it didn't make sense. "Snape... he taught Vaughn a lot of things, how could he be the man in black?"
Ron looked like he'd discovered the truth: "Maybe that's how Snape disguised himself. You see, because of your misleading information, we've been deliberately avoiding suspicion of him for the past few months, and now it turns out we've wasted several months because of it, Hermione!"
"..." Hermione puffed out her cheeks. "What have you investigated, Ronald? Spending all day playing wizard chess in the common room is what you call investigating?"
Seeing that the two friends were about to start arguing again, Harry quickly stopped them:
"In short, we have to inform Hagrid and Dumbledore, and we can't let Snape's plot succeed."
But Ron was worried about his suggestion: "Have you forgotten, Harry? We mentioned Snape's suspicion to Hagrid before, but Hagrid believed Snape because Dumbledore also trusted Snape!"
"...Oh right!"
Harry was a little annoyed. Why were these adults so unsuspecting?
The trio discussed the matter for a while and realized they had reached a dead end.
They can do nothing but warn the adults, and the adults are unlikely to believe them.
After a moment's hesitation, Ron stammered, "How about... we go find Vaughn?"
Hermione agreed, and she was also surprised by Ron's behavior: "Ronald, you actually offered to ask your brother for help?"
Ron's face turned red.
Ignoring his predicament, Harry thought he could approach Vaughn, but the problem was...
He sighed, "Vaughn isn't at Hogwarts. He's busy with the werewolves, and it's been a month since I asked him to help investigate Snape, and he hasn't given me any news. I think he might be like Hagrid and Dumbledore, believing that Snape is trustworthy!"
Hermione frowned: "Maybe Snape really is trustworthy... Seriously, Harry, I have a feeling that what happened to you today is strange. Don't you think it's odd?"
"Hmm? What's strange?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"Everything is strange!" Hermione said. "First of all, after the game, none of us—Ron, Percy, Fred, George, and I—noticed that you were still in the locker room, which would never have happened normally."
"Secondly, there are many ways to get to the Forbidden Forest. Why did Snape choose the Quidditch pitch route? Besides, you were able to track Snape while riding a flying broomstick. He's an adult wizard and a professor. Harry, he should have a hundred ways to find you."
"Finally, when you recounted Snape's threat to Quirrell, I had a feeling... he was saying it to you on purpose?"
The little witch's analysis left Harry speechless.
Only Ron nonchalantly remarked, "Maybe Harry just got lucky!"
"Luck can't explain everything, Ronald. Do you rely on luck for your exams too?"
"...Merlin, why do you always manage to bring up studying in everything?"
A corner of the room.
The seemingly empty place was filled with the power of an invisibility spell, and Vaughn and Dumbledore were standing there.
Vaughn glanced at Hermione, who was arguing with Ron, and then looked at Dumbledore with a smile: "Look, your plan is full of loopholes. It can only fool those two silly boys, Harry and Ron."
"Miss Granger is such a clever witch…"
Dumbledore dramatically wiped the sweat from his brow, but immediately burst into laughter again: "...Luckily, she and Harry are good friends. Even more interesting is that she and our esteemed new Potions Master seem to be getting ready to commit to a romantic relationship. Ah, what a touching youth—"
Vaughn: "..."
Ugh, that's disgusting!
Too lazy to pay attention to Dumbledore, who was wiping away tears again, Vaughn looked at the trio who were still arguing and discussing their next move, and shrugged, saying, "It seems that I'm not really suitable to appear in front of Harry now."
"…Yes!" Dumbledore also had a bit of a headache: "I'm sorry, I've somewhat overlooked your role in the whole thing. You're their age and have powerful magical abilities, so they will inevitably rely on you…which doesn't go against our original intention."
"What about Harry's Occlumency?"
Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "Let me think."
Vaughn smiled: "Actually, I have a plan..."
Seeing his smile, Dumbledore knew he wasn't up to any good, but he was still curious: "What plan?"
"Harry's Occlumency procedure is actually progressing quite well. The reason it's not completely finished is because he doesn't have enough of a sense of urgency. Even though I've used some methods, I haven't been able to make him truly experience the danger."
Vaughn's smile grew even brighter: "Perfect timing! Now that Harry has discovered the true nature of the villain Snape, why don't we let the professor teach him the final step? I'm sure Harry will be terrified!"
"...You're a genius..."
The trio ultimately failed to reach an agreement.
Harry and Ron were convinced that Snape was the Man in Black. Although Hermione found many things suspicious, she had no strong evidence to prove that Professor Snape was a good person.
This made Harry and Ron realize even more how impressive Snape's disguise was, that he had even fooled Hermione!
Therefore, they dared not tell the adults casually, lest they alert the enemy.
"We can observe for now and hope that Professor Quirrell can withstand Snape's pressure while we investigate and gather evidence in secret!"
Ultimately, this is the only way.
To the trio's relief, when they met Professor Quirrell the next day in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, although he was pale and looked frail and on the verge of dying, he did not appear to be mentally broken.
This earned him the respect of Harry and Ron.
Ron said admiringly, "What a strong person! I can't imagine anyone being able to attend classes and assign us homework normally under Snape's threat!"
Harry stared blankly at the eight-foot-long paper format, beginning to question the meaning of life.
Even Hermione, while finding the idea that Snape = the Man in Black somewhat illogical, never doubted Professor Quirrell; she simply felt sorry for him.
"Whatever Snape is going to do, he shouldn't pressure Professor Quirrell; he looks too pathetic."
The compassionate girl stopped the twins from playing a prank on Professor Quirrell that evening—they were trying to stuff a toad into Quirrell's turban.
Harry and Ron also changed their attitude towards Quirrell.
They even advised the Gryffindor students to stop mocking Quirrell's stutter and to stop being mischievous in class, so as to give the respectable professor less trouble.
Unfortunately, not many people listened. Everyone thought that Harry's strange magical side effect had kicked in again, and this time he had become a saint.
That evening, upon hearing the rumors, Malfoy ran to the Gryffindor long table and made faces at Harry:
"Come and see, everyone! Saint Potter! Anyone short of money? Come and borrow some, Saint Potter will definitely be generous—he even pities stinky Quirrell!"
Then Harry, Ron, and Malfoy and his henchmen got into a fight.
Harry and Ron were no match for Crabbe and Goyle, not to mention Malfoy's constant sneak attacks. The two were left with black eyes and swollen faces.
However, they didn't suffer any losses. In the end, the two of them risked getting beaten up and pinned Malfoy down, giving him a sound beating.
That night, Ron emerged from the school clinic, sporting dark circles under his eyes that hadn't completely faded, looking quite smug.
"Malfoy had no strength at all. I mean, I could sit right on his bottom and all he could do was scream 'Mama' in a shrill voice, his resistance weak and feeble... Oh dear, I was stunned by the beating. I should have made him call me 'Papa'!"
Harry laughed out loud, but then a sharp pain shot through his bruised cheek, almost bringing tears to his eyes.
"Are you so smug? Gryffindor lost 30 points!" Hermione scolded them with exasperation as she picked them up from the hospital.
Harry and Ron didn't care at all; Hermione would make it back anyway!
All they knew was that they were happy.
This joy lasted until Professor McGonagall appeared before them.
The stern vice-principal had the ability to quiet any student, especially when she had a stern face.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, you have truly brought glory to Gryffindor tonight!"
Ron exclaimed in surprise, "Really?"
Then Professor McGonagall glared at him with a sharp look, which made him shut up immediately, and Harry gave him a hard elbow.
Professor McGonagall took a few deep breaths, her gaunt face appearing even more terrifying, but to their surprise, she didn't continue her reprimand. Instead, she said, "Mr. Potter, please come with me. Dumbledore wants to see you..."
She glanced at the dazed Ron again, took a few deep breaths, and said, "...Weasley, go back and rest. Come to my office tomorrow for solitary confinement...Miss Granger, you should go back too. It's late, and curfew is coming soon."
After saying goodbye to his two friends, Harry nervously followed Professor McGonagall to the eighth floor.
All the way, he kept thinking about why Dumbledore wanted to see him. Also, could he take this opportunity to report the truth about Snape to Dumbledore?
But when Harry actually stepped into the headmaster's office, he immediately dismissed the latter idea—
The office wasn't just occupied by Dumbledore; there was another figure dressed in a black robe, looking gloomy and indifferent.
Snape!
He seemed to be arguing with Dumbledore about something, and when Harry came in, he heard him angrily shout, "...What kind of trick are you playing, Dumbledore!"
He stopped talking when he saw someone come in.
But Harry noticed that Snape was staring intently at him, and the way he looked made Harry suspect that if Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore weren't around, Snape would just rush up and chew him up and eat him!
"Did he discover that I was following him?"
Harley, harboring ulterior motives, was lost in thought and instinctively shrank behind Professor McGonagall, avoiding Snape's fierce gaze.
All he could think about now was getting Dumbledore to finish what he had to say so he could leave.
That's terrifying!
Professor McGonagall put her arm around Harry's shoulder and led him to her desk. "Albus, Mr. Potter is here."
"Ah, Harry—"
Dumbledore smiled. "I was just talking to Severus about you. We need to speak with you about something."
"..."
Harry suddenly had a bad feeling. He tried to force a smile, but found his cheeks stiff as stone: "Uh, Headmaster Dumbledore, what is it?"
"It's nothing, here, have some candy... Oh, no appetite? Okay."
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Dumbledore, sensing Harry's increasingly ominous premonition and under Snape's murderous glare, smiled and said:
"It's like this, Harry, Vaughn has been very busy lately, and as we can foresee, with the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee, he will be even busier. So, he has once again entrusted me with teaching you Occlumency…"
Harry, who had been feeling uneasy, suddenly felt relieved.
However, before he could even manage a smile, Dumbledore, behind the desk, beamed and said, "...But unfortunately, I have some personal matters to attend to lately, so I'm going to have Severus teach you!"
boom!
Harry's mind went blank; a wave of immense fear washed over him, and his first instinct was to stop Dumbledore's outrageous decision:
"headmaster--"
"Oh, child, don't worry. Your potions professor is a master of Occlumency and has a wealth of experience. He will definitely be able to teach you quickly and well."
"I'm not worried, I am—"
"That's even better, it's decided then. Minerva, take Harry back... Oh, and classes start tomorrow, same place as always, Harry!"
"Dumbledore—"
Harry, with Professor McGonagall's arm around his shoulder, desperately reached out to Dumbledore, and then he heard Snape on the other side grit his teeth and call out, "Dumbledore!"
Their shouts overlapped, and Dumbledore clapped his hands and laughed:
"Great! I'm already looking forward to seeing your teamwork!"
Harry & Snape: "..."
What a terrible day!
Chapter 83 What does it mean to dislike each other?
"I'm dead..."
Harry cried out those words in despair, but he had already returned to Gryffindor.
Although he struggled desperately on the way, trying to run back to the headmaster's office and make Dumbledore retract his decision, he even told Professor McGonagall that Snape was the man in black!
But given that he and Ron had just fought with Malfoy that evening, and his face was still swollen.
Professor McGonagall forcefully suppressed his resistance.
"Mr. Potter, although you stay out all night, copy homework, and fight… I still hope you're a good boy. Now, obediently follow Dumbledore's orders, or I'll put you in solitary confinement for two weeks and have Professor Snape supervise you!"
"Don't blame me for not warning you beforehand!"
Clearly, in Professor McGonagall's eyes, Harry had already become a person who had broken his promise.
Dragged back to his dormitory by Professor McGonagall, Harry was utterly desperate. He lay motionless on his bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
Worried about him, Ron, without taking a break, ran to the common room and asked his female classmate Lavender Brown to go to the girls' dormitory and call Hermione over.
Hearing Ron's retelling, Hermione frowned: "Harry, didn't Dumbledore say anything else?"
She stood at the entrance of the boys' dormitory. Several boys, including Simo and Neville, were wrapped up tightly and didn't dare to utter a sound.
The only one making a sound was Spotty by Ron's bedside.
The fat rat screamed desperately because Fruit Tea had also come and was squatting in front of Ron's bed, shaking its head at the cage with its eyes wide open.
Ron didn't care about Scabbers right now. He shoved Harry a few times, and Harry, who was staring blankly in despair, said with a mournful face, "No, he only told me that starting tomorrow, Snape will take over teaching me Occlumency."
Hermione thought for a moment, "We'll go with you tomorrow!"
Ron nodded hastily: "Yes, Harry, we're with you. With so many of us, Snape definitely won't dare to lay a hand on you."
Neville peeked out from the side and asked, "Why did Snape attack Harry?"
Ron didn't even turn his head: "It's nothing, Neville, you can come along tomorrow too!"
Neville: "..."
Seamus and Dean quickly suppressed their curiosity and pretended to be asleep. No one in Gryffindor liked Snape, and no one was afraid of him.
Poor Neville, why did he have to be so talkative?
After agreeing on a time for tomorrow, Hermione went back. Harry lay on the bed like a dead fish, listening to Ron's rambling worries and Neville's stammering resistance.
As they talked, the two of them started snoring, leaving Harry alone, mentally broken, tossing and turning, unable to sleep all night!
The next morning, Harry stared wide-eyed as Ron yawned as he got up, then shamelessly said to him, "Harry, I didn't sleep a wink last night because I was worried. Look, I have dark circles under my eyes."
hehe...
That was clearly Crabbe's shot!
Harry ignored him, silently washed up, went to the dining room for lunch, and then, taking advantage of the few classes in the morning, secretly slipped up to the eighth floor to try and find Dumbledore.
He recited the command that Professor McGonagall had given him yesterday, but the ugly dripping stone beast didn't react at all; instead, it attracted Peeves.
"Aha, Harry Potter! I caught you, you truant brat, you're in big trouble!"
For Harry, facing Snape would be the real disaster.
He threatened, "Shut up, you little devil! Do you know the password to the principal's office? Tell me, or when Vaughn gets back, I'll have him teach you a lesson!"
Peeves seemed startled, blinking his small, dark eyes: "Oh no—how could poor Peeves possibly know the password? Dear Harry Potter, are you trying to break into the Headmaster's office?"
Frustrated, Harry casually replied, "Yes..."
The words had barely left his mouth when he saw Mischief do a somersault in mid-air, grinning widely and shouting:
"Help! A thief is trying to break into the headmaster's office! Filch, you damn cripple, come here and grab Harry Potter!"
Harry fled in panic, but how could he possibly escape Peeves' pursuit? The guy was riding on his head and wouldn't leave no matter what he did.
Ultimately, Harry was dragged to Professor McGonagall by Filch, who rushed over.
Seeing Professor McGonagall clutching her chest in anger, barely able to breathe, Harry sighed and decided to accept his fate.
He realized that these adults were completely unreliable!
Hermione's suggestion is more reliable!
At night, Harry, who had spent the day mentally preparing himself, picked up a lantern and prepared to head to the House of Requirement.
He doesn't need to worry about Filch now, but if possible, he'd rather be caught by Filch and taken to the guard's office!
After walking down the corridor for a while, Harry quietly turned around, looked at the empty space behind him, and whispered, "Are you still there?"
Then Ron's reply rang in his ears: "We're right behind you!"
Neville sobbed softly, "Seriously, can you let me go back? What if I get caught..."
A few steps away, Hermione's voice came: "Alright, Neville, you won't get caught, I promise!"
"Hermione, why aren't you in the Invisibility Cloak?"
"I'm bringing fruit tea. Don't worry, my Disillusionment Charm is pretty good... Let's go, Harry, don't waste time, you have to go no matter what!"
"Sigh..." Harry sighed, and had no choice but to huff and puff as he made his way to the eighth floor.
When they arrived, the door to the Room of Requirement was already in sight, slightly ajar, across from the tapestry of the troll beating Banaba. A sliver of dim light shone through.
Harry nervously rubbed his trouser leg, glanced behind him where there was no one, and pushed open the door.
It was still the same little study where he and Vaughn often practiced, but everything that he used to find warm and familiar was now chilled by the presence of Snape, dressed in black like a ghost, standing before the fireplace.
Glug!
Harry swallowed hard, deliberately opened the door wide, and quietly gestured behind him.
But his plan failed.
Snape turned around, his dark eyes seeming to pierce through Harry's body, and said in his signature tone, drawing out the last syllable, "Granger, Weasley, Longbottom—get out!"
"..."
Harry forced a smile: "Nobody, Professor..."
"I'll say it again, get out, and while you're at it—close the door behind you!"
The air was still for a moment.
Squeak!
Harry heard the scraping sound of the door, and he knew that his friends had given in after all. He felt even more sorrowful and desperate.
Outside the door, Ron ripped off the Invisibility Cloak and whispered in fear, "Oh no, I did it because I was scared. Will Snape kill Harry in there?"
He could almost see Harry turning into a mosaic.
Neville, standing nearby, was so frightened that his teeth chattered.
Only Hermione, after the Disillusionment Curse was broken, stared thoughtfully at the fruit tea at her feet:
Fruit Tea looked very anxious. It sniffed the air as if it wanted to find something, but it didn't dare to leave Hermione's side—it still had to help Hermione deal with Mrs. Lorris so that everyone wouldn't get caught while out for a night out.
Bang!
The door closed behind him, and what was originally a slight sound sounded like thunder to Harry at that moment.
He felt as if his head had been hit by a giant's club, numb and empty. Many thoughts rushed in and then quickly disappeared, as if there was no longer any substance in his mind to sustain their existence.
Ha vigorously rubbed his trouser legs.
Snape, who had been staring coldly at him, lowered his gaze and curled his upper lip into a mocking smile: "The famous Savior can be nervous? It seems you have a good sense of self-awareness, knowing that you are just a fool—excuse me, I shouldn't insult fools!"
This infuriating sarcasm finally brought Harry to his senses.
He took a deep breath, knowing he had to accept reality. Dumbledore had arranged for Snape to teach him Occlumency, and he was powerless to resist.
But at least, he could choose not to let Snape succeed.
That wretched old bat, don't even think about reading his memories and thoughts!
Harry also couldn't let Snape know that he had discovered Snape's "true colors".
With all the knowledge Vaughn had taught him flowing through his mind, Harry desperately used Occlumency to lock all his thoughts and memories firmly inside a cold "shell".
That shell was made up of emptiness and distracting thoughts, and for the past month or so, Harry has been able to maintain it while fully conscious.
However, the intensity could never be increased, and once one entered a sleep state, it was easily relieved due to mental relaxation.
Vaughn said that this was due to his lack of survival pressure. The safe environment affected his practice efficiency, and he did not develop a set of subconscious defensive instincts.
Harry didn't understand the specific theories, but he knew that his sense of crisis and pressure to survive were at their peak!
Following Vaughn's instructions, Harry desperately built up his mental defenses. The result of this extreme focus was the expected side effect: his expression gradually turned cold.
"Let's begin, Snape... Professor!"
Watching Harry's transformation, Snape looked somewhat dazed. Those cold, emerald-like eyes... how similar they were!
Just like about 20 years ago, when he lost his mind and shouted "Mudblood," and she left in tears, the same look in her eyes when she saw him again.
There was no emotion left...
Snape felt a sharp pain in his heart and instinctively looked away, then he saw Harry's face.
That hateful face!
Pain turned into rage, which burned uncontrollably!
He raised his wand and forcefully chanted the spell: "Levitate!"
A powerful spell, carrying immense, invisible magical energy, crashed down upon them.
This time, Harry really felt like he'd been hit on the head.
A powerful, invisible force is violently attacking his brain-sealing technique.
The sea of thought surged into a raging torrent, and all the light in the room quickly faded before Harry's eyes, leaving only boundless darkness.
This wasn't because his eyes were injured, but because his brain, which was fully engaged in defense, had no energy left to receive information from his senses.
The mental world, due to external attacks, this space that does not exist in a physical form, is now showing various strange phenomena.
Lightning, gales, earthquakes... or many other indescribable horrors.
These were all manifestations of Harry's fears. Since he didn't understand memory magic, he couldn't see them. He just felt that he was very scared. The mental shock caused by the attack made his mind wander, and it became increasingly difficult for him to maintain Occlumency.
He finally understood what the pressure of survival meant!
This was completely different from how Vaughn had felt about him using Legilimency over the past few months, but Harry knew it wasn't because Vaughn was weak, but because he had no defenses against him.
More importantly, it was because Vaughn had never felt such deep hatred, disgust, and malice towards him before!
Harry, struggling to stay afloat, was of course unaware that deep within his mind, a humanoid cloud of mist quietly raised its head.
It watched as the "mental storm" raged within Harry's heart.
The gleaming eyes recorded everything, then awaited the person who placed them to retrieve them, read them, and analyze them…
...
Harry didn't know how he managed to persevere.
His mental defenses, built up with all his might, were like a small boat adrift in a storm, constantly on the verge of capsizing under Snape's attacks.
Time seemed to pass for a long time. When Snape finally stopped Legilimency, Harry found that his clothes were soaked and his body was covered in sticky sweat.
As the attack subsides, the brain's defenses weaken, and vision clears again.
He suddenly felt as if he had been transported to another world.
Harry also noticed that Snape didn't seem to be having an easy time either; he secretly clenched his trembling hand—maintaining strong emotions is very taxing, and there are similar examples among Muggles; when people are in extreme grief, they can even faint.
Harry couldn't help but laugh, but he soon paid the price for his overconfidence.
"Potter—you seem quite pleased with yourself? Yes, you defended against Legilimency... Even though you couldn't move an inch the whole time and were completely at their mercy, it must have been a very valuable experience for someone as stupid as you!"
"...I am not smug, Professor Snape!"
"Next time you lie, watch the smile on your face; it looks disgusting!"
"..."
Snape always managed to break down any young wizard's defenses with his cold expression and vicious words, especially Harry.
He clenched his fists, barely managing to control the urge to throw a punch. He knew he couldn't beat Snape, so he decided to endure it.
But for Snape, seeing his enemy's son so tolerant only emboldened him to vent his frustration at having to raise his enemy's offspring!
He raised his head high, adopting that Malfoy-like, disdainful air about him, and said slowly and deliberately:
"Take a 20-minute break, then we'll continue!"
Harry turned pale instantly. He was exhausted and sweating so much that he was almost dehydrated.
He was worried that he might not be able to handle it if he had to do it again!
He cried out in a panic, "Professor Snape, 20 minutes is too short..."
Before he could finish speaking, he heard Snape, who was secretly flexing his wrist, let out a cold snort: "Ten minutes it is then, Potter. Do you have any objections?"
hateful!
Harry finally understood that this old bat was willing to die together with him in order to read his memories and thoughts and to humiliate him!
Harry, equally determined, gritted his teeth and declared, "No! Professor!"
"Very good. I hope you will show your savior potential next. To be honest, your defense just now seemed only slightly better than that of a troll."
"I feel the same way. Your attack is like Aunt Penny tickling Cousin Dudley, afraid of breaking his delicate skin."
Snape's face darkened, and he said, enunciating each word clearly, "...Very—good, Potter! I'll see if your defense is really as tough as your mouth!"
Although he was a little regretful, Harry was absolutely not going to back down. He retorted sharply, "I look forward to your performance, Professor!"
"..."
"..."
The two stopped talking, staring at each other without blinking, as if they wanted to compete in this aspect.
Ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and as Snape raised his wand, Harry let out a muffled groan.
The fierce battle has begun again.
"Tsk tsk, how interesting."
In the corner of the study, Vaughn, who was hiding, smiled and looked around.
The clash between Snape and Harry may have been mentally intense, but from his perspective, their actions were essentially a blank stare at each other, followed by a sudden jolt as their attacks and defenses paused, causing them to stop panting and rest to recover their strength.
It's like performing a comical, and perhaps even suggestive, silent film.
Neither of them was willing to admit defeat, so the silent performance continued in a way that made the onlookers burst into laughter.
As time went on.
Sixty minutes later, Harry, on the defensive, was exhausted. He frantically waved his limp hands and feet, trying to grab the back of the sofa or something else to keep himself from falling.
Snape, no longer concerned with maintaining his public persona, leaned against the fireplace, his face pale and covered in sweat.
It must be said that the professor does have professional ethics.
Even in moments like these, even when he couldn't help but spit venom, he was truly dedicated to teaching Harry.
"Potter, phew... your stupid brain can only brutally defend against all attacks, without knowing how to adjust or adapt..."
Harry was too exhausted to argue. He listened to Snape's words, panting, and then, with the last bit of strength he had managed to muster, gritted his teeth and said, "Again!"
So, let's continue!
In the 90th minute, as Snape ended another attack, Harry, who had barely managed to hold on, was completely exhausted, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.
Snape wasn't having an easy time either; he had been using Legilimency for over an hour straight, and it was the enhanced tutorial version with a lot of emotional investment.
His face was as pale as Malfoy's.
If it weren't for his unwavering belief, he probably would have collapsed too.
Even so, his arms, which were braced against the fireplace, were trembling.
Vaughn dispelled the spell and clapped lightly: "Brilliant! A sharp attack and a tenacious defense, Professor, you and Harry have put on a textbook-perfect battle of wits!"
Snape was not happy at all to hear Harry's name mentioned alongside his own.
He forced back his breath, his face hardening. "Go check on Dumbledore's savior. See if he's dead!"
"Oh, Professor, Albus and I still trust you. I'm only here as a precaution, and I won't be coming back tomorrow."
"snort..."
Ignoring the mocking hum, Vaughn walked over to Harry, squatted down, and his eyes gleamed slightly.
In the mental world that Snape could no longer see, Vaughn saw a humanoid cloud of mist. He did not take it back, but left it there to continue recording.
He examined it for a moment and said in a light tone, "Occlumency is still intact. Although it is operating passively and its defensive capabilities are not ideal, it is sufficient for early warning... Hmm, Harry seems to be very wary and resistant to you, Professor. I have never seen him have such a sensitive subconscious after falling asleep before."
This is nothing to be proud of, Snape's expression grew even colder.
Ignoring his unpleasant expression, Vaughn checked for a while longer to make sure there were no oversights before smiling and saying, "Alright, everything went smoothly, and the results exceeded my expectations. Sigh, I should have let Harry receive the professor's guidance sooner!"
stare--
Snape's dark eyes seemed to pierce through Vaughn's head.
"Don't be angry, Professor, just kidding. Actually, I think you and Harry work together quite well. The sparks fly between you amidst your mutual hatred and loathing. The intensity of your emotions is truly..."
"Vaughn Weasley!"
"Alright!" Vaughn shrugged, no longer provoking the professor. "Let's continue at the current pace, Professor. Of course, that's enough for today. You can call Ron and the others in to take Harry back."
After saying that, he disappeared again.
Snape stood there catching his breath for a while, finally regaining some strength. He glanced somewhat awkwardly at the spot where Vaughn had disappeared, straightened his robes, and once again became the calm "ghost," flicking his wand.
The door opened with a click.
Ron, who had been waiting anxiously outside the door, quickly poked his head in. When he saw Harry lying on the ground with his eyes closed, his face immediately turned ashen.
"Harry—" he yelled, clenching his fists and glaring at Snape.
Hermione, who had rushed to Harry's side to check on him, quickly said, "Wait, Ron, Harry just fainted."
"--oh..."
Ron smoothly opened his fist, scratched his head, and grinned sheepishly.
Snape curled his upper lip. "Gryffindor loses 10 points! Ronald Weasley attempted to attack the Professor!"
"No, I just... I just have an itchy scalp and haven't washed my hair lately..."
Snape: "...Deduct another 10 points, Ronald Weasley is mocking the Professor!"
Ron decided to shut up.
He and Neville helped Harry up, and before leaving, he asked, "Hermione, should we take Harry to the school hospital? I'm worried he might be injured."
Snape said with a dark expression, "I think you can send him to St. Mungo's. The delicate Savior needs 100 wizards to worry about his head. You can also take a look at your own head to see if it's filled with troll snot."
Ron and Neville grabbed Harry and slunk away.
His indistinct mutterings could only be heard from a distance:
"That old bat's mouth is getting more and more venomous. Neville, if you hadn't held me back just now, I definitely would have punched him."
"Huh? I, I didn't..."
The sound quickly faded away as Neville offered his explanation.
Snape felt terrible, or rather, he hadn't been happy for even a second in the past two days.
All of this was thanks to Dumbledore and Vaughn. So when Vaughn deactivated his invisibility and tried to have a word with him, he simply tossed his robes aside and walked away without looking back.
Looking around the suddenly empty study, Vaughn shrugged, sat in the study for a while, and then prepared to go back to rest.
In order not to disrupt Dumbledore's plans, he cannot appear before Harry for the time being.
I have to get back to the Ministry of Magic through the fireplace first thing tomorrow morning.
This does have some advantages; at least the blame for skipping class can be shifted to Old Deng.
Vaughn couldn't help but laugh when he recalled how Professor McGonagall had stared at Dumbledore's beard with such rage that evening.
Then, as he walked out of the Room of Requirement, he saw a large cat excitedly meowing as it ran around the corner of the corridor.
And then there's Hermione, a girl in pajamas, huddled in a corner, only her eyes sparkling:
I knew you were here!
Chapter 84 New Potion Ideas
How did you find out?
"It's fruit tea. It smelled your lingering scent and has been acting very agitated."
Vaughn did not take Hermione back to the Room of Requirement; Hogwarts at night posed no danger to him.
Unlike other young wizards, you don't have to worry about Filch, Mrs. Lorris, or Peeves.
So he took Hermione directly to the observatory.
This is the tallest tower in the entire Hogwarts. Apart from classes, it is usually deserted. The two sat on the edge of the observatory. Guoguocha snuggled in Vaughn's arms, rubbing her head against his chest and purring sweetly.
"Fruit Tea, so you're the one who gave me away."
"Meow~"
Guoguocha stretched, its fur reflecting a layer of silvery white, the bright moonlight cast by the moon hanging in the sky, covering everything that should have been shrouded in darkness.
Hogwarts Castle, perched atop a cliff on a high ground, offers a panoramic view of the surrounding landscape, not to mention the observatory. This is the best place Vaughn has found to enjoy the view since arriving at Hogwarts.
Looking down now, the Black Lake, reflecting the moon, shimmers with fragmented crystalline light. The dark Forbidden Forest and the rolling mountains merge into one color, stretching into the distance. At the edge of the horizon, stars appear and disappear in the mist rising from the forest.
Everything possesses a beauty that is completely different from that of the daytime.
A serene beauty.
A gentle breeze ruffled the girl's hair. Hermione gazed at the scenery before her and pursed her lips: "I've never seen the Scottish Highlands at night before."
"Is it pretty?"
"Um!"
Vaughn opened his satchel, took out the Grangers' reply, and handed it to her: "I was planning to give it to you earlier, but it took some time."
Hermione took it and asked, "Did Mom and Dad agree?"
"At least Mrs. Granger is happy. Mr. Granger is a bit hostile towards me, as if he thinks I've stolen his sweetheart!"
Vaughn shrugged, and Hermione smiled, a little shyly, a little sweetly.
Putting away her parents' reply, Hermione asked softly, "Harry said you've been busy with the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee lately, is that true?"
"Oh, it's true."
"Then you probably won't have time to come back recently..." The girl loosened her tightly wrapped robe, took out a delicate box from her bosom, and blushed:
"...I was originally planning to give it to you on the holiday, but since that's the case, I'll give it to you early... This is Valentine's Day chocolate..."
Is Valentine's Day almost here?
This is terrible!
Vaughn suddenly realized that he had been so busy lately that he had completely forgotten about it.
A moment of panic shot through him, but Vaughn remained outwardly calm, smiling as he accepted the gift: "Thank you. I've also prepared your gift; shall I send it to you that day?"
"Mmm..." the girl nodded shyly.
Vaughn breathed a slight sigh of relief; thank goodness, he had managed to get away with it for now.
The next day, perhaps knowing that Valentine's Day was approaching, Vaughn belatedly realized that... the entire Hogwarts was filled with an atmosphere of youthful restlessness.
As he wandered around the castle, he saw many older students gathered in small groups, enthusiastically exchanging tips on how to confess their feelings.
Many people who used to scoff at the legends are now humbly standing in the crowd, listening to everyone say how effective it is to confess one's love under the mistletoe, and that as long as the timing is right, it will definitely work.
In their mouths, mistletoe has become a love potion.
Later, when Vaughn went to Snape's office, he learned that someone had actually tried potions—
"Severus, take a look. I can't believe it! Those two Weasleys somehow got their hands on a batch of love potions and are selling them all over campus!"
Professor McGonagall was so angry that her cheeks trembled.
She's been getting angry more and more often lately, and I feel like my heart can't take it anymore.
Fred and George hung their heads dejected as she twisted their ears.
On the desk lay a pile of confiscated bottles and jars. Snape opened one and sniffed it.
When Vaughn came in, he heard him say dismissively, "Fake!"
Upon hearing this, Professor McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief.
The overuse of love potions is a very serious matter. Although they can only bring false love, that is precisely what makes them even more terrifying.
Just imagine, when you're under the influence of a potion and fall in love with someone you don't like at all, and if something else happens... how painful it would be when the potion's effects wear off!
Unfortunately, this stuff is impossible to eradicate. Older students already know how to make it, so every Valentine's Day, the school can only crack down on it and try to prevent any accidents.
The twins, however, could not accept Professor McGonagall's relaxed attitude.
"How is that possible? These cost us 5 Galleons!"
"We checked it; the color and smell are exactly the same as what Vaughn wrote."
"Yes, Fred. Vaughn researched love potions two years ago. We secretly looked through his potion notes. His notes couldn't possibly be wrong!"
The twins exchanged a glance and whispered to each other, "Is Snape trying to steal our potions?"
"Possibly, George!"
Snape's face fell: "Weasleys—you can whisper a little louder!"
As he spoke, he saw Vaughn enter, and his expression became intriguing: "Or perhaps you should explain this to Mr. Vaughn Weasley..."
The twins turned around stiffly.
Vaughn gave a half-smile: "I remember some people who swore to me that they would use the money for product development and would never waste it... Fred, George, right?"
"Uh, we can explain!"
"Yes, Vaughn, we want to earn a little more. Developing new products is too expensive, and we have too much unsold Canary Cookies from before..."
Fred and George tried to argue their case, but Professor McGonagall wouldn't give them time.
She grabbed the twins by the ears and dragged them out of the office: "Mr. Weasley, although you haven't committed any major offenses, selling counterfeit drugs is still a serious violation of school rules. Now, come with me to detention. Your brother Ron Weasley can keep you company!"
The twins screamed as they were dragged away.
Vaughn ignored them, walked to his desk, opened a bottle of potion, and smelled it:
"Yes, it's definitely fake. The honey and sugar water are dyed pink, which can only fool laymen."
"The renowned newly minted Potions Master, his brothers are complete amateurs... Hmph!"
Knowing Snape was unhappy, Vaughn didn't care about his sarcasm. While looking at the medicinal herbs in the office, he casually asked, "Professor, what do you think is a good gift to give a girl for Valentine's Day?"
Snape: "..."
He suspected that Vaughn was mocking him!
However, Vaughn was indeed thinking very seriously; he had little experience in this area.
In my past life, I was just an ordinary person. I was under a lot of pressure when I was in a relationship, and I could only follow the crowd and send flowers to fool people.
Although saying that might sound a bit arrogant.
But now that he has power and less pressure, he doesn't want to be so casual anymore.
Unfortunately, Snape wasn't the right person to consult. If he knew how to give gifts, he wouldn't have been single for so many years!
After asking casually, Vaughn prepared to leave using the fireplace, but as his gaze swept over the crucible, he noticed something amiss—
It was a pot of pink potion that shimmered with a pearly luster even in the dimly lit potion office. Most peculiar of all was its steam, which rose slowly in a spiral and lingered above the crucible for a long time.
"Aphrodisiac?"
Vaughn stared at Snape in astonishment.
Snape's lips twitched, his dark eyes darting awkwardly to the side as he offered a dry explanation: "...for upper-level teaching..."
Vaughn approached the cauldron and carefully examined the potion. With his current skill level, he was capable of identifying most potions.
He inhaled the unique, individually distinct, rich fragrance of the aphrodisiac and exclaimed, "It's brewed wonderfully!"
Snape smirked.
But then Vaughn added, "You cunning professor, you've been secretly suffering quite a bit, haven't you?"
"...Hmph, shut up!"
Vaughn shut his mouth, inhaling the fragrance lingering in his nose, a scent that seemed to be a mixture of various potions—the scent of aphrodisiacs, which smelled different to everyone and was usually that person's favorite.
He suddenly had an inspiration.
He thought back to a few months ago when he met Hermione at Black Lake.
At that time, she was rejected by Harry and Ron, and she sat alone by the Black Lake and cried secretly. She was very sad at that time, and the reason was certainly not because she had a deep relationship with Harry and Ron, whom she had only known for a short time.
Instead, she couldn't speak to anyone except the two of them and Vaughn.
To be fair, Hermione's personality at the time was indeed not popular with the playful young wizards. No one would like a competitive person, especially one who was always carrying around books and whose conversations revolved around studying.
So even now, Hermione doesn't have a single female friend...
No one doesn't yearn for friends. Among teenagers, there are no irreconcilable grudges. It's just that no one is willing to back down or compromise. As a result, the rejecter and the rejected gradually form a habit.
Vaughn rubbed his chin, and suddenly wondered if he could develop a social potion for Hermione, inspired by the unique scent of love potions that varies from person to person.
The effect doesn't need to be too strong; it's enough to make the girls in her dorm feel that she smells nice and is friendly, and that they are willing to gradually let down their guard.
Thoughts raced through my mind, thanks to the time I spent developing the wolfsbane medicine, where I used the magic extraction method to summarize and statistically analyze the properties of materials.
Vaughn quickly devised a plan.
He was also familiar with Snape's office. He waved his hand, and a jar in the corner opened automatically. Several henbane petals flew out automatically under the effect of the levitation charm and floated in front of Vaughn.
As he channeled his magic, they immediately disintegrated, releasing their properties.
Noticing his movements, Snape became interested: "You have a new potion idea again?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Heavenly hyacinth petals... You want to develop a new love potion? Something like an aphrodisiac?"
Snape guessed.
He also remembered that a few months ago, Vaughn used the birth of the love potion and the evolution of the properties of the datura to explain the influence of Muggle legends on magic.
He was somewhat expectant. Originally, Vaughn hadn't touched potions for a long time since he finished developing the Wolfsbane Potion, and he had been feeling disappointed.
Vaughn paused for a moment: "Uh, I just wanted to develop a Valentine's Day gift for my girlfriend..."
"..."
The budding expectation in Snape's heart withered, his face fell, and he spoke succinctly:
"Get out of my office!"
asshole!
How can you use a sacred potion to please your girlfriend?
Snape was very angry.
It wasn't just because Vaughn used a holy potion to please his girlfriend, but also because that bastard sneaked into the fireplace and, right in front of him, shoved a large amount of materials and a gold cauldron into his satchel.
"Professor, as you know, your dear student has recently almost gone bankrupt trying to help the werewolves, and hasn't even had time to spend with his girlfriend..."
So he softened.
I watched helplessly as Vaughn stuffed his bag full, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, and disappeared into the green flames.
That night, he went to mock Dumbledore for not offering help. Dumbledore looked helpless and said, "Severus, I'm an old man over a hundred years old. All the tens of thousands of Galleons I've painstakingly saved, along with some Muggle pounds, have been moved to a foundation that hasn't even been established yet... How can I possibly help you?"
Snape's face turned ashen.
Vaughn Weasley!
This liar, thief, cunning villain!
...
Vaughn, who nearly broke Snape's composure, didn't go to the Ministry of Magic, but instead teleported directly to Crouch's house—
After the two established their partnership, Crouch contacted FlooNet and granted Vaughn access.
The reason I came here is because Vaughn promised to take a look into Crouch's mind today.
Although he is flexible about his bottom line, he always adheres to contracts with true partners.
Crouch fulfilled his promise during the previous questioning session, so Vaughn will not keep delaying and manipulating people's sore spots.
When Vaughn arrived, Crouch was pacing anxiously back and forth in the living room.
Standing beside him was a house-elf with large brown eyes, wearing a tea towel.
Upon seeing Vaughn appear, Crouch immediately said impatiently, "When do we start? I'll have Blink take you to the basement... Sorry, to prevent him from escaping, I had to cast an Anti-Apparition Charm in the basement; only the fairy's magic is unaffected..."
He became somewhat talkative, as if he was using this method to relieve his anxiety.
Vaughn reassured him: "Barty, calm down. I told you, this is a long and meticulous job. Being too hasty is not a good thing."
"...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I...I just waited too long, and I was a little anxious..."
Crouch took a few deep breaths, finally stopped pacing, and slowly sat down on the sofa, saying wearily.
Seeing that he had calmed down, Vaughn looked at the house-elf and smiled, "You must be Sparkle, right? I'll be in trouble with you later!"
Shan Shan, who had been standing there blankly without saying a word, suddenly filled her big eyes with tears upon hearing these words.
She shrieked, "My God, Mr. Weasley with the red hair is so kind, he cares about Sparkle…"
As she spoke, she looked around in alarm, then grabbed the table leg and slammed it against her head: "Bad Sparkle, bad Sparkle! She suspects Mr. Weasley, she suspects that Master invited Mr. Weasley here to harm the young master, bad Sparkle!"
She slammed the table repeatedly, and the table legs soon broke with a mournful creak.
Vaughn: "...Barty, aren't you going to stop it?"
Barty smiled wryly: "Let her be. That's how house-elves are."
Vaughn shrugged.
The Weasleys had never owned a house-elf, and even after Vaughn made money, he never considered buying one—not out of moral fastidiousness, but because Vaughn knew that since their defeat and enslavement by wizards, their people had been subjected to countless curses over the years.
Their bloodlines are already filled with all sorts of strange spells, which often results in house-elves having some kind of mental problem.
Vaughn doesn't want to raise a Dobby.
He ignored the shrew who was punishing him, opened his satchel, and started taking out the materials and crucibles he had taken from Snape.
Crouch was somewhat taken aback: "We need to use potions?"
"Oh, no, this is something I'm planning to develop as a little gift for my girlfriend... By the way, I'll be staying at your place for a while, you don't mind, do you?"
"...I don't mind..."
Crouch said dryly.
Suddenly, Sparkle appeared between the two, blinking her big eyes expectantly and asking, "Master, Sparkle would like to help Mr. Weasley tidy up a room, is that alright?"
The two turned around and saw that the table had been completely shattered and was slowly being restored under the effect of a repair spell.
Looking into those bright, expectant eyes, Crouch's lips twitched: "Of course—"
"Great, Master has agreed to Shiny."
Sparkle blew her nose hard, then burst into tears of joy: "Sparkle wants to please Mr. Weasley and make him happy so that he will do his best to treat his master."
Watching Sparkle busily working, casting the Levitation Charm to carry everything she had taken out upstairs, Vaughn teased, "Barty, it seems you're far less important to her than her little master."
Crouch paused for a moment, his voice becoming hoarse: "She was always raised by my wife, and my wife's greatest wish before she died was for our son to live..."
"Uh... I'm sorry."
"It's alright, it's been a long time..."
Despite saying this, Crouch's spirits continued to decline. He stopped speaking, and a trace of fatigue appeared on his aged face.
This situation reached its climax when Flashy finished tidying up Vaughn's room and Apparated the two of them to the completely sealed-off basement.
The basement was not large and sparsely furnished, with only a few braziers burning against the wall, providing some light.
In the center of the room, a huge cage woven from steel bars as thick as a wrist came into view.
A frail figure was locked in a cage. He was wearing pajamas, and it was clear that someone had been taking good care of him. His medium-length hair was combed very smoothly, and there was only a little stubble on his face.
But his eyes were vacant.
When Flash appeared with the two of them, he didn't even react immediately. Instead, he stared blankly at Vaughn and Crouch.
Then, his expression gradually turned ferocious—
"You damned old dog, how dare you come in front of me!"
He gripped the cage and shook it violently, his eerie eyes fixed on Crouch, his tongue nervously licking his lips as he hysterically cursed, "Want to cast the Imperius Curse again? Come on, your weak spells only bring me pleasure, and make me remember the humiliation you brought me..."
His eyes widened, and he squeezed his face into the gap of the cage, grinning to reveal a mouthful of gleaming white teeth: "One day, I will escape. I will find my master, and then I will make him allow me to bite off every last bit of your flesh—"
"He collapsed to the ground, completely unconscious!"
Bang!
Vaughn raised his finger, and the powerful spell immediately knocked Crouch unconscious, abruptly silencing his hysterical and vicious words.
He turned around and saw Crouch slumped on the ground.
His son's hatred and curses made his aged appearance impossible to hide, and his eyes filled with tears.
Shiny put her arm around her owner's shoulder and cried along with her.
Shining left with Crouch. For a father, an old man over fifty, it was a cruel thing to watch and hear his son insult and curse him.
Despite his objections, Vaughn ordered Flash to take Crouch to rest.
Sparkle chose to obey—she could tell what was better for her master.
In the suddenly quiet basement, Vaughn frowned slightly as he looked at the unconscious Crouch.
Although he had a premonition that Crouch Jr.'s condition might be bad before he came, he was still somewhat surprised that it was this bad.
Magic filled his eyes, and in his vision, Crouch's body was shrouded in a thick black mist.
They were so dense, profound, and dangerous that even the glimmer of life was obscured and suppressed, with only a sliver of gray-white visible in the gaps between the rolling black mists.
"Dark magic?"
Vaughn didn't know what the black mist was; he could only guess that it might be the effect of black magic.
After standing still and closing his eyes to think for a moment, Vaughn opened his eyes, his reddish-brown eyes shining with magical light as he looked at little Crouch lying in the iron cage.
Little Crouch floated up!
Vaughn slowly sat cross-legged on the ground. In his vision, everything was losing color and form, except for Crouch Jr.'s body, which was shrouded in black mist, becoming clearer and clearer.
In the unseen realm of the mind—in the magnificent archives of memories—his personality opened a door, behind which lay boundless darkness.
He reached out and grasped wisps of mist from the darkness, which automatically wove into a cloak with wisps of mist hanging down.
Vaughn draped the cloak over his shoulders and took a step forward—
Outside, Vaughn's eyes emitted a strong yet ethereal light, which stretched and contracted, cautiously touching the black mist on Crouch's body as if testing it.
The black mist gave no response whatsoever.
Then, the light burst through!
At the same time, Vaughn's persona, draped in a white mist cloak, appeared in front of an old-fashioned building.
The small building seems to have been built a long time ago. The stone walls are covered with moss, and the wind and rain have left rough marks on the surface. Looking up, the eaves hang low, and the faded rafters and damp, dark green tiles are exposed in the view.
Everything was old.
Vaughn looked around. He was in a strange space. The small building in front of him was clear, but apart from that, the surrounding scenery began to blur when he was only about ten feet away from the building.
The feeling was like looking at a blurred photograph.
"These are Crouch's memories... Crouch's ancestral home? His childhood?"
Vaughn pondered for a moment, then walked around to the back of the building instead of going inside.
There is a huge garden there, as clearly defined as a small building, connected to a densely forested hillside.
The hillside is lush with trees and lush vegetation, and sunlight filters through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled patterns of light.
Vaughn saw a blurry figure, that of a child, running through the woods.
"whee--"
The children's laughter rang softly in his ears. Vaughn blinked, and the figures playing in the woods had disappeared again.
This made him frown.
Memory is the brain's record of past experiences. Normal people's memories are very stable; the memory will present the scene exactly as reality is.
But what he's seeing now is less like a memory and more like... a dream!
That's a bit strange!
Thinking it over, Vaughn took a deep look at the dense forest on the hillside, turned around and went back to the front of the small building. After a moment of deliberation, he gently knocked on the door.
This action seemed to have triggered some mechanism.
The once quiet building was suddenly filled with various sounds—the crackling white noise of the television and the creaking music from the record player.
From what seemed to be the direction of the kitchen, there were sounds of dishes being washed and clattering, and a woman's voice could be faintly heard shouting:
"Barty, honey, go open the door!"
Squeak—
The door opened.
But there was no one inside, and the sounds stopped abruptly.
Vaughn stood in front of the door, a light that had somehow appeared behind him casting his shadow and the outline of the door obliquely onto the floor.
All that remained was darkness!
In the darkness, heavy footsteps descended from what appeared to be the stairs ahead, followed by a deep voice asking, "Who are you looking for?"
Vaughn looked at the bright outline of the door and his own silhouette on the floor, then looked up in the direction the voice came from: "Barty Crouch Jr.?"
"call--"
All he could see was deep black; Vaughn couldn't see anything.
All that could be heard was the voice breathing heavily, "It's me. Who are you?"
"My name is Vaughn Weasley, and I'd like to talk to you."
"Weasley…that's a familiar last name, I think I've heard of him before…"
Vaughn remained calm: "Perhaps we've crossed paths before?"
"No... Hehehehe..." The voice in the darkness suddenly laughed hysterically, saying, "I heard your name at Shan Shan's place a few days ago!"
"A thief who sneaked into my memories!"
boom--
The scene before him exploded with a deafening roar. Vaughn felt dizzy as the small building, garden, hillside, and dense forest all shattered into tiny grains of sand. A violent force swept over them, like a sandstorm, crashing down on them from all directions.
Amidst the deafening roar, a voice shouted from all directions:
"Trying to steal my memories? Hahahaha—come on! Take them all, experience my darkness, my twistedness, my evil... Hahahaha!"
Vaughn saw the black mist emerge from the raging "dust storm," polluting and blackening everything in its path.
They drew near in an instant, and Vaughn gently raised his hand, only to see a grain of black sand glide across his cloak.
In an instant, the mist hanging from the cloak turned from pure white to gray!
"pollute..."
Vaughn remained expressionless, simply watching as more gravel swept in.
As they collided, the cloaks grew darker and darker in color.
Before long, a wisp of mist turned black.
Vaughn waved his hand, took off his cloak, and threw it out.
A terrifying black sandstorm instantly engulfed it, but it was just bait. The moment he threw out the cloak, Vaughn had already taken a step back.
As he retreated, the surrounding scenery changed in an instant.
In the blink of an eye, Vaughn was freed from Barty Crouch Jr.'s memories and returned to the basement.
But he didn't move. His eyes, gleaming with magical light, saw Barty Crouch Jr., who should have been unconscious in the cage, slowly rise, revealing gleaming white teeth and glaring at him menacingly: "How did you get away? Vaughn Weasley, didn't expect I'd find you!"