Chapter 91 The Savior's Trial
Outside Hogwarts Castle, on the path leading to Hagrid's Hut.
The cobblestone path was slippery from the rain, and the four of them walked carefully on it. A slightly chilly wind swirled around them, carrying the drizzle. Harry and Ron, who were walking ahead with their heads down, kept sneezing, and their robes were soon soaked through.
But the two people and one cat following behind them, protected by waterproof and moisture-proof spells, were still in the mood to chat.
"Vaughn, when did you get back?"
"I just got back and was about to go back to Slytherin to rest for a while when Fruit Tea found me."
Hearing its owner call its name, Guoguocha, who was frolicking around, hopped over and rubbed against Vaughn's legs.
Hermione asked expectantly, "Is everything resolved?"
Vaughn nodded: "Pretty much. The next thing is a bit complicated. Wizengamo and the werewolves need to write to the International Wizarding Association and the three parties need to agree on a time to discuss the establishment of a joint committee structure. I don't need to get involved in this kind of thing, so I will stay at the school until the end of the semester."
The little witch immediately smiled sweetly.
She glanced at her two friends walking ahead with their heads down, then quietly took Vaughn's hand and gently shook it, her inner joy hidden in the gesture.
Achoo!
Harry sneezed again, and he couldn't help but tug at his robe. The soaked robe had become very heavy and had completely lost its function of keeping him warm.
The wind blowing on it is so cold it chills you to the bone.
He glanced furtively at Ron beside him. Ron was in no better shape than him, clutching his robe and shivering in the cold wind. His face was as white as Malfoy's, and his freckles seemed almost transparent.
"Ron, maybe we should wait for your brother… uh, I mean, wait for Vaughn."
Harry hinted.
But Ron clearly didn't want to admit defeat.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have pulled Harry away first after seeing Vaughn more than ten minutes ago.
Ron snorted: "Don't expect him to cast a waterproof and moisture-proof spell on you, Harry. He loves seeing people in a mess. I don't even need to wait for him to know that we'll both end up getting soaked in the rain."
No, he just wants to see you look pathetic...
Harry thought to himself, but didn't dare say it aloud, fearing that Ron's fragile pride might crumble.
Through their previous experience practicing Occlumency, Harry had already discovered...
Vaughn may have a wicked sense of humor, but he generally wouldn't do anything to strangers.
His "bullying" often feels more like a slightly urging joke he makes to people he knows well—like right now.
The real waterproof and moisture-proof spell is a spell that can be learned in first grade. If the two of them had worked harder in class and read more books in their spare time, they wouldn't be foolishly braving the wind and rain now.
At least Harry felt that being bullied was no big deal; he had never experienced that feeling before!
He grew up only accompanied by loneliness.
Oh, but Dali's bullying doesn't count!
Ron was unaware of Harry's inner thoughts; otherwise, he would have thought Harry was crazy. He muttered and recounted Vaughn's "care" for him from childhood to prove how wise it was for him to drag Harry away early, at least avoiding humiliation.
It would be even more convincing if his teeth didn't chatter when he spoke.
Fortunately, Hagrid's cabin wasn't far away. After crossing a hill, the cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest came into view, with white smoke billowing from its chimney. Yaya was squatting at the door, barking from afar.
A short while later, Hagrid, wearing an apron and carrying two umbrellas, came to greet them. Upon seeing them, he immediately complained:
"You two silly girls, you don't know any waterproof or moisture-proof spells, why didn't you bring an umbrella?"
Harry and Ron were struck dumb.
Oh right...
Feeling ashamed of their own stupidity, the two huddled under Hagrid's umbrella, dejected.
Hagrid, ever the easygoing one, didn't seem to care. He watched Vaughn with Hermione from afar, waiting patiently for a moment until they approached. Then, he warmly stepped forward and gave Vaughn a hug.
"Kid, that's fantastic! Werewolf Affairs Committee—that's the hottest buzzword in the papers this year. Nobody ever thought of that before. I mean, who cares about those poor werewolves…and those poor hybrids of magical creatures?"
As he spoke, he emotionally wiped the corner of his eye, probably thinking about his own background.
The ancient magical world has many problems. What Hagrid was talking about was that the abuse of magic led to the emergence of new species, but these new species could not be recognized in the magical world and could only become a marginalized group that no one cared about.
For a half-giant like Hagrid to be able to stay at Hogwarts is already considered very lucky; at least Dumbledore was willing to take him in.
However, his sadness was short-lived, and he quickly greeted them warmly, "Come on, children, I've already made tea. It was a gift from Vaughn, and it smells wonderful!"
Whether the tea smelled good or not is another matter; the four followed Hagrid into his hut and discovered something strange—
In the small room, all the windows were blocked off. After inviting everyone inside, Hagrid immediately closed the door and even used rags to seal the cracks in the door.
The fireplace was blazing, and even in this chilly, damp weather, the sweltering heat was almost suffocating.
Harry, who had wanted to ask questions immediately, was so breathless that he couldn't speak.
Ron, who had been deathly pale a moment ago, was now so hot that he unbuttoned his collar: "Merlin, Hagrid, what are you doing? Did you really raise a fire dragon?"
Snap!
Hagrid, who had just brought over the snacks, dropped the plate. He nervously wiped his forehead and said, "Good heavens, how did you know? Who else knew?"
"No one else knows, Hagrid. Hermione found your library card; we just guessed."
Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief and was about to say something when he saw Vaughn, who hadn't said much, walk to the fireplace and pick up the fire tongs to pok at the firewood inside.
The other three noticed as well. Ron seemed to have suddenly lost his memory, completely forgetting that just a few minutes ago he was criticizing his brother. He excitedly moved closer to Vaughn, Harry leaned on his shoulder, and Hermione peered over from across the table.
As Vaughn parted the firewood, a dark, watermelon-sized egg was revealed beneath the burning embers.
Ron held his breath, his eyes gleaming in the firelight: "This...this is a dragon egg?"
"Yes, isn't it beautiful?" Hagrid, who still couldn't get enough of looking at it after several days, said, dazzled, "It's a perfect creature, isn't it?"
Vaughn crouched down to examine the dragon egg closely, casting a spell on his eyes. In his vision, the firelight gradually dimmed, while the life force emanating from the dragon egg became dazzlingly bright.
He nodded: "Yes, they are truly beautiful creatures."
Long ago, about a few years after he transmigrated, Vaughn, who had worked hard to learn English, began to browse through the limited collection of books in his home.
Most of them are history books of the magical world, and some are notes that Molly and Arthur copied from the Prewitt and Weasley families before and after their marriage.
If Vaughn wants to find the essence of magic, then he must first trace its origin and birth.
Before the establishment of the Wizarding Council (the predecessor of the Ministry of Magic, which was dissolved in 1707), the magical world did not have a unified governing body, so the tracing of magical history usually only relied on the notes of predecessors to glimpse one aspect.
Even after enrolling at Hogwarts, Vaughn spent at least half of his time in the library flipping through notes that seemed meaningless to other students.
Time is the most powerful spell of oblivion; everything will eventually be buried by the dust of time. He never expected to find the answer he was looking for in the book.
In the magical world, there are quite a few people who study the origins of magic, but they usually associate magic with civilization. In fact, most people believe that magic either originated in Egypt or in the more ancient East.
This is the mainstream view.
Vaughn was different from them. He believed that the original form of magic had never left people's sight, nor had it been hidden by time—magical creatures!
In his view, everything in the world originates from nature, and magic is no exception.
Perhaps the first wizards of long ago learned magic from magical creatures. Given that dragonpox, a shameful and historically significant disease, still exists in the magical world, he has reason to suspect that the magical bloodlines that pure-blood families are so proud of and so desperately try to protect may also have rather exotic origins...
The reason Vaughn is pursuing the origin and essence of magic is because he has been puzzled by one thing—through the system, he already knows that an ordinary adult wizard has a magic power scale of about 500 points, which is roughly the average level in the magic world, and his current magic power is approaching that limit.
Even though he's already close to average, he still feels powerless when facing Dumbledore.
When Vaughn faced Dumbledore, it was like facing a vast ocean, while he himself was just a babbling brook, relying solely on his own growth, with a sense of despair that he could never catch up to him in his entire life.
He had experienced a similar feeling with Voldemort!
This is what puzzles Vaughn the most. They are both wizards, and even if there are differences in talent and bloodline, why is the difference so great?
The difference was so great that it was as if Dumbledore and Voldemort were no longer the same species as other wizards!
The feeling they gave Vaughn was that they had become part of the magic, part of the mystery; they were no longer wizards, but some kind of magical creature, or rather, mythical creature!
Beside the fireplace, Vaughn, whose eyes gleamed with a faint, magical light, gazed at the dragon egg in his field of vision, its life force shining brightly.
The light was so rich and intense, far surpassing that of humans, and unlike the pure white of humans, the life aura of the dragon egg was a fiery color.
In his view, if anything in the world is closer to the life level of Dumbledore and Voldemort, it must be magical creatures.
Both are magical creatures, but the only difference is that magical creatures are born from nature, and nature is imperfect.
A few months ago, when Vaughn first realized the gap between himself and Dumbledore, he wanted to study magical creatures and try to understand why Dumbledore was so powerful by starting with the origin and nature of magic.
Or, what would it take for him to "evolve" into that form?
Of course, Vaughn knew that it was bound to be a huge project and there was no need to rush it, so he focused his main efforts on improving his spells and reputation.
However, he wouldn't let go of readily available material if it were offered to him.
While he was observing, Harry and Ron had already started talking to Hagrid.
"Hagrid, how did you get it? I mean, there are almost no truly wild dragons left (they all live in protected areas). Back in the 17th century, to prevent Muggles from knowing about dragons, the wizarding world confined all dragons to their habitats."
Ron asked curiously.
Before Hagrid could answer, Hermione interjected, "This is the content of the 'International Wizarding Federation's Law of Secrecy.' In 1692, the entire wizarding community worldwide decided to conceal the existence of the wizarding world from Muggles. The first thing to be restricted was magical creatures. To this end, the International Federation invited intelligent magical creatures such as mermaids, centaurs, and goblins to form a delegation to sign the Law of Secrecy together."
Harry, who knew nothing about "common sense" and could only listen blankly, finally heard a familiar phrase and hurriedly said happily, "I know this so-called Secrets Act. I read about it in the newspaper a while ago. Some wizards used it to attack Vaughn and werewolves, saying that the werewolves' reintegration into Muggle society could potentially trigger violations of the Secrets Act."
Hagrid, who was about to answer Ron, was immediately distracted again. He stroked his beard and said, "Oh, that's a very serious problem. The Secret Law cannot be violated, otherwise the International Wizarding Federation will discipline the whole of England, and even Dumbledore can't stop it."
He looked at Vaughn: "How did you guys finally resolve it?"
While thinking, Vaughn casually replied, "There's no solution. Werewolves need to work, and only Muggle society has enough space to support them."
Hagrid was speechless.
He didn't quite understand what "body size" meant, and vaguely said a few words like "very good" and "insightful," before returning to Ron's previous question, his expression immediately becoming animated:
"How did you get this dragon egg? Ron, you'd never guess!"
Before Ron could ask, he excitedly told him, "This is my spoils, Ron. A Greek man made a bet with me—actually, I was just going out for a drink that day—and he lost. He didn't have anything valuable on him, so he gave me this dragon egg."
Hagrid looked at the dragon egg in the fire, his heart filled with joy: "That's a good man who keeps his promises. I dare say he must have gone to great lengths to get this thing."
Ron was practically drooling with envy: "Yeah, nobody can keep a dragon these days. Hagrid, have you found out what breed it is?"
"certainly."
Hagrid took out a book he had borrowed from the library. "It says in this book that, judging from the pattern on the eggshell, it should be a Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon—very rare, with very few surviving specimens."
Now, Ron was really drooling.
In his view, rarity equals high price equals a large amount of Galleons equals financial freedom!
All night long, until they returned to the castle, Ron couldn't stop thinking about Hagrid's good luck.
"Why can't I find a single Greek who can lose to my dragon egg?"
As Ron lay in bed that night, he was still muttering this sentence, not without a hint of sourness: "Maybe that Greek guy deliberately lost to Hagrid. He's probably worried about what to do with the dragon egg. It's really rare, but the crime he committed is also big, right, Harry?"
After waiting a while without receiving a reply from Harry, Ron looked up at the bed next to him.
Harry was lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with its tassels hanging down from the bed.
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"...I'm thinking about what Hagrid said."
Ron paused for a moment before realizing what he meant: "Snape?"
Harry nodded.
Of course, he didn't forget his main purpose in going to find Hagrid. Even when everyone was focused on the dragon egg that night, he didn't forget to find an opportunity to ask Hagrid about it.
The answer surprised him somewhat.
"Harry, you already know that when I picked you up, I went to Gringotts to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone, right? It was terrifying. If Dumbledore hadn't ordered me to pick you up that day, it might have fallen into the hands of that thief who broke into Gringotts."
"So from then on, Dumbledore kept it at Hogwarts. Dumbledore set up powerful magical mechanisms, and every professor, including me, was involved. I provided Fluffy to guard the entrance... Yes, Harry, Snape was involved too."
"I don't know exactly what he arranged, but I heard Dumbledore say that Snape was in charge of the most important part. If Snape wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone, he would have had the opportunity long ago, and he wouldn't have had to wait until now."
Harry repeated Hagrid's words to Ron.
Ron scratched his head: "Uh, that sounds reasonable."
This is exactly what frustrated Harry. He had considered magical mechanisms before; the trapdoor that Fluffy guarded was practically a classic example of a trap design.
However, he originally thought that the trap was set up by Dumbledore and that Snape was unaware of the specifics. On the contrary, Quirrell was likely deeply involved, which is why he witnessed Snape threatening Quirrell that day.
But now it seems that things are not like that.
He... seems to have misunderstood Snape all along.
This fact was hard for Harry to accept, and it even made him vaguely feel that something was wrong with the whole incident.
If Harry gained anything from studying with Vaughn for several months besides Occlumency, it was that he learned to think things through and use his brain first.
There's no way around it; if you don't keep your wits about you when dealing with someone as smart as Vaughn, you'll end up like Ron, full of resentment.
Now, looking back, Harry feels more and more that everything is too much of a coincidence.
Why was it on the very day he was to be picked up that Dumbledore instructed Hagrid to take the Philosopher's Stone?
Why did the people who broke into Gringotts make their move on that particular day?
Why did Dumbledore go to such great lengths to protect the Philosopher's Stone, which he hid in Hogwarts, by setting up a whole host of magical mechanisms?
In fact, Harry felt that it would have been safer if Dumbledore had kept the Philosopher's Stone hidden in the Headmaster's office or in his pocket without saying a word.
Ron was already asleep, snoring loudly.
Harry, burdened by too many unanswered questions, tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Just as the savior was suffering from insomnia once again, in the principal's office on the eighth floor.
As Dumbledore cast his spell, all the portraits fell into a deep sleep.
He and Vaughn then went to the Pensieve and watched the memories of the night in Hagrid's hut.
The haze of memories, like ink dripped into water, spread and diffused around the two of them.
Vaughn looked at himself, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and the dragon egg in his memory, his expression calm: "Quirok has already gotten the method from Hagrid on how to get past Fluffy... You really went for it, Albus, you even used a Confusion Charm on Hagrid to make sure he didn't let it slip."
"Oh—did you notice?"
Vaughn smiled knowingly. "I noticed it the moment I saw him. Poor guy, he still doesn't realize that the person he trusts most has cast a curse on him."
"Your progress in memory magic far exceeds my expectations, Vaughn."
Dumbledore praised him, then sighed, "Hagrid is a good boy, simple-minded. It's my fault for keeping him at Hogwarts all this time, which prevents him from understanding the complexities of reality... Although Quirinus's mind has become less clear, he still has basic discernment. In order to convince him that the Philosopher's Stone is not a trap, I must make everything as reasonable as possible."
"Aren't you afraid Tom will find out? He's a memory magic master just like you."
Dumbledore winked playfully: "I checked beforehand, and Tom is still asleep. I have you to thank, Vaughn. Without unicorn blood, he has to hibernate frequently to avoid draining Quirinus to death."
As he spoke, his expression turned somewhat sad.
Quirinus was originally a student he had high hopes for. His original plan was to have Quirinus teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for a year, and after that, he would arrange for him to join the Ministry of Magic or the International Wizarding Federation.
Unfortunately, things don't always go as planned.
Dumbledore couldn't say whether what caused all this was Voldemort's curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, or the disturbance caused by the fates of Voldemort and Harry.
But no matter which point, he is to blame.
If he hadn't found Quirinas last year, all of this...
Seemingly sensing his guilt, Vaughn couldn't help but add another sarcastic remark: "Albus, have you noticed that you're always wary of Slytherin, but the ones with the most problems are actually in the other house?"
Dumbledore: "?"
Vaughn counted on his fingers: "Quirinus Quirrell, Ravenclaw; Rita Skeeter, Ravenclaw."
Dumbledore's beard twitched, and he stubbornly said, "It's just a coincidence!"
Vaughn smiled. There was one more thing he hadn't said yet. When Gilderoy Lockhart came to Hogwarts next year, he really wanted to ask Dumbledore again if it was a coincidence.
The two looked at the memories for a while longer. Perhaps to change the subject, Dumbledore greatly praised Vaughn's memory processing, believing that the memory he constructed was so clear and full that it could be mistaken for the real thing.
Miss Granger, in particular, was incredibly lifelike and captivating, with every smile and gesture so vivid and charming.
Vaughn rolled his eyes, too lazy to pay attention to his teasing, and only asked him as he left, "When are you going to guide Quirrell to solve the other puzzles?"
Dumbledore said with a smile, "I was just about to tell you about this. What do you think of those magical mechanisms?"
Vaughn didn't answer, but his expression said it all—it was like children playing house.
"Would you like to make things a little more difficult for Quirinas and Tom?"
"Um?"
Chapter 92 The Web of Fate and the Path of Legend
Vaughn, who was about to leave, turned back and looked at Dumbledore with a puzzled expression.
Old Deng smiled back at him.
After a pause, Vaughn said with a hint of sarcasm, "I thought you wouldn't let me participate in the childish games you've prepared for the savior."
He is still self-aware of this. Although he is now cooperating closely with Deng Xiaoping, it is only because he has not shown any dangerous behavior.
In reality, Vaughn and Dumbledore's relationship has always been characterized by mutual trust yet mutual distrust.
Their differing views make it difficult for them to truly accept each other.
Vaughn was too "obsessed" with power; whether it was his pursuit of fame and prestige or his thirst for knowledge, it was essentially a pursuit of power.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, was too "divine." He had seen too much of the complexity and cunning of human nature and hoped that everyone could be as simple as possible.
Of course, so far, both of them have maintained restraint regarding each other's views, and even tacitly agree not to interfere in the other's concerns behind the scenes, keeping everything out in the open.
So even though Dumbledore clearly guessed that Barty Crouch Jr. might still be alive, and that Vaughn had used this to win Crouch over, he didn't delve any further into it.
Every time Vaughn met Harry, he would show Dumbledore his memories of spending time with Harry, because he knew that Dumbledore was afraid that his ideas would influence Harry.
Maintaining distance from each other, avoiding touching each other's vulnerabilities, and engaging in limited cooperation—this is the foundation upon which their relatively fragile trust has been maintained to this day.
Harry is Dumbledore's Achilles' heel!
Hearing Vaughn's sarcasm, Dumbledore merely smiled slightly. His gaze lingered for a moment as if he were pondering something, before he asked a seemingly unrelated question: "Vaughn, what is your view on fate?"
Vaughn frowned slightly. He couldn't yet discern what fate held, and he never liked to comment on things he didn't understand.
Dumbledore didn't seem to expect an answer either. He continued, "A few months ago, you told me a line from a Muggle movie: 'Humanity is the sum of divinity and bestiality.' It deeply moved me. In the past few months, I've spent my free time studying Muggle philosophy and literature."
"One playwright's viewpoint particularly interested me. He believed that tragedies in literary works are generally divided into three types: one caused by the villain in the play, another by coincidence, or what Muggles call 'fate,' and the last, the most common and realistic, stems from social relationships and social class."
"What I've written isn't the outcome, nor retribution, but rather the cruelty of the world and humanity..."
Muttering these words aloud, Dumbledore paused for a moment, lost in thought, before standing up and extending his hand to Vaughn:
"Take my hand, child."
Vaughn didn't understand what Dumbledore was going to do, but he did as he was told, stepping forward and taking Dumbledore's old, thin hand.
Dumbledore waved his wand.
He uttered a spell, which sounded like runes, or rather, runes. Vaughn only came into contact with this ancient language, which had been extinct in Muggle society and even in ordinary wizarding families, after enrolling in Hogwarts.
However, his self-study was not very effective (as Niven was an elective in his third year), because learning this language has nothing to do with a person's intelligence, but rather with whether you have a talent for divination—runes have always appeared as proverbs.
Vaughn's talent for divination was something he least wanted to talk about.
However, after more than half a year of study, Vaughn has gained some insights.
"It requires the spell to be recited in runes. Is this a prophetic spell?" Vaughn was somewhat puzzled. As far as he knew, the Dumbledore family had never produced a diviner.
He did not resist, but silently observed and felt the massive magical energy emanating from Dumbledore, who was waving his wand beside him.
In Vaughn's perception, the old man beside him was like a terrifying source of radiation at this moment. Invisible ripples spread out from his body, extending to 3 or 4 meters away, and then suddenly disappeared when he approached the wall.
It may seem that it can only spread that far, but that doesn't mean it's weak. In fact, within the range of the ripples, the air is affected by its terrifying power, becoming so heavy that it's almost solidified.
For a fleeting moment, Vaughn felt like a worm trapped in pine resin. He could clearly sense that he had absolutely no ability to resist Dumbledore.
He had always been keenly aware that his ability to negotiate with Dumbledore was merely taking advantage of Dumbledore's reputation as a "gentleman." Just as Dumbledore trusted his rationality, he trusted that Dumbledore wouldn't resort to underhanded tactics against him.
As Dumbledore's chanting grew more and more intense, the terrifying magical power spread more and more rapidly, and its influence on the surroundings became more and more intense!
At one moment, Vaughn's pupils dilated, and he saw that the colors in the world before him were rapidly disappearing—it was not some kind of illusion.
Under the influence of the incantation, the ripples of Dumbledore's surging magical energy were so intense that they were visible to the naked eye. Vaughn could clearly see the ripples sweeping across their bodies, across the decorative tassels hanging from the Headmaster's office, across the desk, the carpet, the dessert cabinet, the candy, the Pensieve...
With each ripple that passes by, a color is stripped away from these objects.
It's as if an invisible hand is peeling away the glaze applied to an oil painting to enrich its colors, revealing the world's true nature by stripping away its glamorous exterior!
Even though the area was less than 4 meters, it was enough to shock Vaughn!
He watched as everything touched by the ripples quickly transformed into outlines of black, gray, and white, and watched as transparent, spiderweb-like threads emerged from the surfaces of those objects.
At this point, Dumbledore finally stopped his magic. He seemed to be greatly exhausted, and from this unique perspective, his face was so pale that it was almost transparent.
"Huff—" Dumbledore took a few quick breaths before he finally calmed down. His voice became hoarse as he said to Vaughn with a self-deprecating smile, "I'm really getting old. Decades ago, when I used this magic to observe the Web of Fate, it wasn't nearly as difficult as it is now."
"The Web of Fate?"
Vaughn observed the strange scene before him. The space with a radius of about 3 meters radiating outward from him and Dumbledore had completely lost all color (in hue, black, white and gray all represent no color or no hue).
Outside the boundary, the walls covered with portraits remain as normal as if a black, white and gray sphere had suddenly been embedded in reality.
Inside the sphere, apart from him and Dumbledore, the surfaces of all objects were covered with spiderweb-like threads that extended out, intertwined and wove together, like... a web, stretching all the way to the boundary of the spherical space before disappearing without a trace.
"...This is the web of fate!"
Vaughn repeated the word Dumbledore had said, but this time with certainty.
"Yes, this is the true face of fate, and what that playwright described as the cruelty of the world!"
Looking at the crisscrossing threads in the space, Dumbledore sighed, "It penetrates into all things, it is both the origin and the end of all things. Nothing can escape these threads. Muggles, of course, cannot see this. What they consider to be coincidences and opportunities of fate are merely part of the true destiny. But even so, they still understand certain aspects of the nature of destiny."
"For example, its ruthlessness and cruelty!"
Dumbledore put away his wand, raised his free hand, and called out, "Fox!"
Fawkes, who had been hiding somewhere since Vaughn arrived, reluctantly appeared on Dumbledore's arm.
Fawkes spread its wings, and with a crackling sound, it Apparated the two of them to a corridor in Hogwarts, appearing outside a door.
Having lived at Hogwarts for several months, Vaughn was quite familiar with the castle and knew that Quirinus Quirrell's office was inside the door.
The spherical space surrounding the two still existed, and it seemed that maintaining it was not difficult at all. Dumbledore even had the energy to cast invisibility and soundproofing spells with a wave of his hand.
He opened the door as if he were in his own home, and led Vaughn into the office without encountering any obstacles.
"This is just a small right of the headmaster, and Hogwarts will not refuse the headmaster's request," Dumbledore said, winking at Vaughn.
Vaughn paid no attention to the old man's quirks; he simply looked at Quirrell, who was fast asleep, curled up on the sofa in the office.
As he drew closer, the black, white, and gray spherical space encompassed Quirrell's body. Then, the colors on his body rapidly peeled away, and like the objects around him, countless fine threads emerged from his skin.
The difference is that the silk threads on his body are clearly divided into two parts.
Some are quite slender and almost invisible; they extend from all over Chilo's body and are distributed relatively evenly.
The other part is mainly concentrated at the back of Quirrell's head, dense and thick, like the tail feathers of a white peacock spreading its tail, extending from behind Quirrell in all directions, all the way into the boundary of the spherical space.
"...Is that Tom's fate?"
Vaughn overlooked Quirrell's own delicate fate.
He looked at a thread that extended from behind Quirrell's head and swept past his eyes.
He reached out his hand and looked at Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded, and he tentatively touched it.
But he didn't touch anything; his fingers went straight through the thread.
Dumbledore sighed: "This is a place that has puzzled and frustrated many great wizards throughout history. Fate can only be observed and predicted, but cannot be interfered with or changed."
Dumbledore stared blankly at the back of Quirrell's head. Vaughn followed his gaze and saw the thickest thread there. It looked different from the others, which, regardless of their thickness, were all smooth, thread-like objects.
Only it has a spiral shape, as if it were made of two twisted threads.
Vaughn had some guesses, and Dumbledore, noticing his gaze and seeing through his thoughts, said, "Yes, that's the intertwined fate of Tom and Harry, they're stuck together... You should also know about that prophecy, right? The prophecy about the Dark Lord creating his own mortal enemy."
"I know a little," Vaughn nodded.
Logically, this should be classified information, but after spending several months together, Dumbledore had gotten used to Vaughn's extensive information network, although he was very curious about how Vaughn knew those secrets.
He continued, "That's the wonder of the world. No one in the wizarding world doesn't believe in fate, but most people, like Muggles, have a narrow understanding of fate, including the Dark Lord."
"When he began to slaughter children born in July according to prophecy, he did not know that he knew his own destiny and that his actions of slaughter were also part of that destiny."
"You haven't seen Voldemort at his peak, Vaughn. He's not some old man like me; he's at his prime. His magic and power have far surpassed certain limits, perhaps even surpassing mine and…"
He paused, ultimately not uttering the name, but mumbled, "Even someone as powerful as Voldemort couldn't defy fate, and a miracle occurred—a legendary wizard who had mastered dark magic was killed by the reflection of his most powerful and prized dark magic!"
"Sometimes when I think about it, it's both absurd and terrifying..."
Dumbledore's beard trembled slightly as he gently closed his eyes: "...The prophecy reveals that only the two people whose fates are intertwined can kill each other!"
Hearing this, Vaughn finally understood why Dumbledore had shown him the Web of Fate. He hesitated and asked, "You mean, only Harry and Tom can kill each other, and no one else can?"
Dumbledore nodded silently.
Vaughn's expression wasn't too good, but that wasn't because he was so arrogant that he thought he could take down the Socket Man or wanted to play the hero.
In his view, having the ability or desire to accomplish something is one thing, and being able to accomplish it are two different things.
The former gives you the choice, while the latter basically blocks all paths, leaving only "can" and "cannot," with no other room for maneuver.
Vaughn didn't like that situation.
His pursuit of power was fundamentally about gaining more options and not wanting to entrust his life and safety to others!
"Believe me, when you try to fight fate, it usually gets worse!"
Seeing Vaughn's pale face and deep thought, Dumbledore said nothing more, but led Vaughn away from Quirrell's office: "Let Quirinus get some sleep, he... sigh!"
Fox led the two back to the headmaster's office, where Dumbledore dispelled the spell and poured a glass of juice for both Vaughn and himself.
After this period of time, Vaughn gradually came to his senses and realized that if fate was truly irreversible, then Dumbledore had no reason to show it to him.
Was it specifically to tell him, "Don't bother trying, you're not the main character anyway"?
Old Deng isn't that bored.
Vaughn took a sip of juice, frowned, and put it down. It was too sweet. He looked at Dumbledore and said, "Tell me, you didn't come here specifically to attack me. What are your thoughts?"
Dumbledore cut to the chase. "Remember your guess you told me back then? Harry, because of that accident, he's become Voldemort's... Horcrux!"
Vaughn certainly remembered that it was during Halloween last year, after he unexpectedly encountered Voldemort. In order to avoid a crisis of trust with Dumbledore and to deepen their cooperation, he deliberately dropped this bombshell.
"I've been thinking about how to solve this problem for the past few months, and I've only recently started to see some progress… but if possible, I don't want to use that method."
At this point, Dumbledore stopped there, without revealing what his solution was.
But Vaughn knew that it would most likely be the same method as in the original story. If the inevitability of fate was true, then Dumbledore would have very limited options when faced with the intertwined fates of Voldemort and Harry.
Even setting aside fate, from a relatively logical perspective, considering that Harry and Voldemort could communicate with each other in terms of senses and memories, the fragments of Voldemort's soul were clearly not just "attached" to Harry's soul.
The only way to succeed is to use the methods described in the original story, through a series of arrangements, sacrificing many people, making Voldemort intoxicated by the pleasure of revenge, and losing himself in the joy of breaking free from fate, so that he can personally "kill" Harry and destroy his last Horcrux.
Recalling everything he knew, Vaughn began to understand why Dumbledore didn't want to use that method.
There's no other reason than the sacrifices were too great.
If we were to go along with Harry and Voldemort's fate, their destinies would become a giant meat grinder, involuntarily drawing everyone else into it until the final outcome.
He looked at Dumbledore: "So, you no longer want to submit to fate and are prepared to fight against it? If my mind is not confused, not long ago you said that anything that tries to resist fate will only make it worse."
"No, it's not resistance, it's about finding another way..."
Dumbledore pondered and explained, "Vaughn, fate doesn't give a definite answer. It only sets certain conditions, such as 'the Dark Lord and his mortal enemy, one of them must die at the hands of the other,' rather than saying for sure that Voldemort will win or Harry will win."
"This is precisely where the ruthlessness and cruelty of fate lie. It's like a god with a twisted sense of humor, selecting a few chosen ones, setting out the rules, and then watching them fight and frolic within those rules for its own amusement."
"What we're going to take advantage of is this uncertainty. Of course, I haven't figured out how to do it yet, so for now, the method I've come up with will continue to be implemented. But at the same time, I hope to introduce some variables... Oh, that's Muggle terminology, which is quite interesting."
He looked at Vaughn with sincere eyes, "You have the potential to become that kind of variable!"
In the past, Vaughn would have simply turned his back and left, but today, he was unusually patient, not because of Dumbledore's request.
He asked, "Albus, your magic just now didn't reveal our destinies. Did you see something?"
"..."
Dumbledore remained silent for a moment before hesitantly saying, "I don't know..."
"What?"
"I don't have the talent for divination and can't see the revelations of fate. All I know is that after you successfully pushed the Werewolf Affairs Committee, there was a disturbance in the web of fate… It was very subtle, but now that Tom and Harry's fates have already been set, normally no new chosen one will appear."
"unless..."
Dumbledore's deep blue eyes, bright and clear like the autumn sky, said, "Unless what you do in the future profoundly affects the entire wizarding world, the Werewolf Affairs Committee is just the beginning, but this beginning is enough to make the web of fate respond to you!"
Vaughn remained silent.
Dumbledore didn't urge him. Today was just an experiment for him, and he was even willing to set aside some of his insistence for it. He asked Vaughn in a gentle tone, "Do you want to know why I don't have the talent for divination, but I can master the magic to see the web of fate directly?"
Vaughn looked up. "Trying to tempt me with power?"
"Don't be so blunt. You could say you're attracting me with knowledge; that sounds better," Old Deng said, shamelessly.
He chuckled coldly, but Vaughn had to admit he was somewhat tempted.
The perspective from which he had directly observed fate was so wondrous; the most ethereal and elusive part of this world was presented to him so vividly.
After a brief, tense standoff, Vaughn asked Dumbledore with a cold expression, "How did you do that?"
Dumbledore readily agreed this time, replying, "It stems from a transformation. When your magical power reaches a certain level, your body and soul will undergo a positive change from the inside out, much like what Muggles call evolution. You will feel yourself becoming a completely new kind of life, as if it were made of magic, a kind of..."
"Mythical creature?"
Vaughn continued.
"…mythical creatures…hmm, a very good summary." Dumbledore gave Vaughn a deep look. "It seems you've been thinking about this for a while now."
Vaughn shrugged: "Of course, your strength far surpasses that of other wizards. The difference in talent alone cannot be that great. Apart from the evolution of your life level, which turned you into another species, I can't think of any other explanation."
Dumbledore laughed heartily. He was actually quite arrogant, and in his youth, only Grindelwald caught his eye, which is why the two teenagers hit it off so well.
Even after experiencing tremendous changes and some of his views shifting, some things etched into his very being are impossible to let go of.
For example, during his interactions with Vaughn, he would occasionally hear him say things like, "Smart people like us."
He still is, he said cheerfully, "I like talking to smart and brilliant people, Vaughn, though the wizarding world calls that a 'legend,' or we usually call a legendary wizard."
"I've never heard of it."
"Because there are too few. In the second half of this century, there was only one Tom, you know, and nobody wants to mention his name."
Dumbledore said optimistically, "Of course, perhaps at the end of the century you will become the new legendary wizard, Vaughn!"
Despite his almost blatant seduction, Vaughn avoided the question: "So, that prophetic magic you learned after you became a legend?"
Dumbledore didn't mind and answered simply, "It's the moment you become a legend. It's a wonderful state where you can glimpse many secrets of the world and comprehend magic that you would never normally be able to learn."
"I chose prophecy because of an old friend... I could say that I created that magic myself, even though I don't have any talent for divination."
Vaughn paused for a moment, then asked, "So, how do I reach that level?"
"With your talent, when you feel you can no longer improve, you've reached the threshold. You can choose to delve deeper into a particular discipline; no one can help you with that... However, I think you can continue to study potion-making and transfiguration; you excel in both."
"If everything goes well, one day you will naturally understand where you are headed, which we call the legendary path."
"Everyone's path to legendary success is different."
Vaughn, having received the answer, remained silent for a long time.
Chapter 93 Vaughn: I want the Philosopher's Stone!
Ultimately, Vaughn neither agreed nor refused.
He still needs to digest the amount of information brought by the web of fate and the path of legend.
Another point is that although the topics he discussed with Dumbledore touched upon the most profound magical knowledge.
But in essence, he is still just a first-year student.
For the sake of his talent points, he still has to return to reality.
Try your best to catch up on your studies and ensure you can complete the system's main quest and receive the rewards.
Since Harry's trial hadn't even begun yet, Dumbledore's invitation was merely a way to involve him more deeply in the plan, hoping that his presence would interfere with Harry and Voldemort's fate.
That night, Vaughn suffered from insomnia, a rare occurrence. When he appeared in the dining room the next day and made his long-awaited visit to his loyal Gryffindor, the dark circles under his and Harry's eyes became a unique sight at the long table that day.
"I dare say he's been up to no good while he was gone, and he probably spent all last night figuring out how to torment us, Harry!"
At noon, Ron spoke desperately to Harry and Hermione in the Gryffindor common room.
Unfortunately, Harry, who had stayed up all night and was in a daze, didn't pay attention to what Ron said.
Only Hermione, her ears twitching, took note of Ron's words.
So, in the afternoon, everyone saw Ronald Weasley, the boy who had become famous as "the Savior's friend" and "killed the troll with his brother Vaughn," and whose fame had quickly faded, suddenly become a star in the castle again—
For some reason, the mischievous ghost had its eye on him.
It rode on Ron's head, dyed his hair in strange colors, and then disrupted the class by imitating Ron's voice, shouting, farting, swearing, and so on.
Even if Ron eventually proves that Peeves was the one who did those things.
But the annoyed professors still punished him—they made him double his homework.
"If you didn't misbehave and annoy Peeves, why is it targeting you like this, Weatherby!"
Professor Binns' words comprehensively summarized the professors' true views on the incident, although he unsurprisingly mispronounced Ron's last name.
At night, while taking a bath, Ron, who had been hit by a dung bomb thrown by Peeves, finally lost his temper. When he unleashed Vaughn, disregarding the embarrassment, he finally understood why Peeves was targeting him.
"Oh—poor, stupid Wetherby, he tried to scare Peeves with the name of Vaughn Weasley, but…"
Peeves blinked his wicked little eyes and grinned: "But the person who asked Peeves to teach Weatherby a lesson is Vaughn Weasley—hehehehehehehe, the Great Demon King said that poor, stupid Weatherby is talking bad about him behind his back, and Weatherby needs to wake up. Peeves is happy to accept this job commission, hehe!"
Ron stormed back to the common room, completely ignoring the stench that nearly made everyone faint.
"I knew he wouldn't let me off the hook. See? From childhood to adulthood, he's never gone more than two weeks without messing with me!"
He loudly accused Harry and Hermione, then glared fiercely at the other students in the common room, "You better not find out which guy told Vaughn, or I'll make him taste the fists that have fought trolls!"
In his anger, he certainly didn't notice that his good friend Hermione was quietly lowering her head.
For Vaughn, disciplining his brother was merely a matter of weighing the pros and cons and reviewing a minor incident in his life.
In fact, for several days after his conversation with Dumbledore, he hadn't stopped thinking about what Dumbledore had said: the existence of the web of fate, the impact of his efforts to establish the Werewolf Affairs Committee on fate, and the excitement of glimpsing the future.
It took him several days to temporarily put aside these unrealistic things and refocus on reviewing and accumulating college points.
Another week passed, and he finally caught up with the schedule. He used his personal "charm" to make a few of the more unruly guys in Slytherin—such as Malfoy, who had become a bit wild and started swearing everywhere because of his departure some time ago—become well-behaved and obedient again.
As March arrived, Slytherin, who had briefly lost their top spot in the House standings, returned to the top.
Vaughn, wanting to relax a bit, decided to go out with Hermione for a walk on the second weekend of March.
As March arrived, the Scottish Highlands finally stopped being constantly shrouded in rain. Especially on this day, the weather was sunny and breezy, the sky was so clear it resembled a sea of forget-me-nots, dotted with a few white clouds, the bright sunshine illuminated everything, and even the wind carried a touch of warmth.
Suddenly, the air felt like summer.
Hermione readily accepted Vaughn's invitation. She changed into a dress, used the hair serum Vaughn had given her to make her frizzy hair smooth, and tied it into a ponytail.
They wandered from Black Lake to the Forbidden Forest, finally resting under a huge oak tree where sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the girl's face.
The light reflected off the light downy hair on her face, as if casting a halo around her, a sight usually seen on young girls.
Vaughn watched quietly and listened attentively as Hermione talked about the little things happening around her.
Hermione noticed his gaze, blushed slightly, and asked him shyly, "What are you looking at?"
Vaughn smiled and took her hand: "Look at a beautiful girl."
A bit greasy, but girls in love are usually brainless. Hermione, who is usually clear-headed and sharp-tongued, blushed and stammered, unable to say a word. She just quietly moved her body and sat closer to Vaughn.
Their hands clasped together, feeling each other's body heat, letting the ambiguity spread.
But in Vaughn's heart, what he was thinking had nothing to do with romance. Memories of his past life kept surging up in his mind, and finally, they settled on George, who had lost his ear, and Fred, who died with a smile.
Harry and Voldemort's fate is a meat grinder; unless they abandon everything now and leave England and even the wizarding world, no one can escape it.
He already knew this, but he always thought that when that time came, he might be strong enough to save them.
Until Dumbledore told him about the nature of fate.
The web of fate is too ethereal for him to grasp or comprehend, but the example of the playwright that Dumbledore gave was quite interesting.
Fate is cruel in both the heavens and the earth, because fate is the interaction between people and the conflicts that arise from that interaction.
He may have power in the future, but can he really restrain George and Fred?
Humans cannot be controlled.
Even if you explain the danger to them, they will do it for their ideals, for freedom, or for something else.
They may still end up on the battlefield and die in some forgotten corner, just like their mother's two brothers.
The only way to avoid all of this, the only way to put one's mind at ease, is to kill Voldemort, or rather, to break Harry and Voldemort's fate!
That evening, Vaughn went to the eighth-floor office, knocked on the door, and looked at the calm Dumbledore: "I want to make a deal."
Dumbledore nodded: "Please speak!"
Dumbledore remained calm in the face of Vaughn's demands for a trade; he even leisurely poured himself a glass of juice.
With the wealth he had accumulated over a hundred years, he could produce anything, whether it was Galleons, rare materials, or profound knowledge and magic.
He believed that Vaughn wouldn't make any unreasonable demands.
After all, if Vaughn agreed, it means he's willing to cooperate, so we certainly won't make things difficult for him.
Then he heard Vaughn say, "I want the Philosopher's Stone!"
"Pfft—cough cough!"
Dumbledore spat out a mouthful of juice, but fortunately, he was alone this time.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Dumbledore's robe, soaked with fruit juice, instantly became dry and clean, his beard trembling.
"what would you like?"
"The Philosopher's Stone!" Vaughn rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I'm just borrowing it for a while. I'm almost broke because of those werewolves, so I'm planning to use the Philosopher's Stone to get some gold."
This is obviously just a made-up excuse.
In reality, he was still thinking about the system's side quests. Since he had agreed to Dumbledore and become more deeply involved in the Savior's plan, Vaughn would feel he had to take advantage of it.
Stroking his beard, Dumbledore felt a toothache and suddenly couldn't bring himself to refuse.
After hesitating for a long time, he finally asked, "How long do you need to borrow it?"
"One week."
Vaughn said that according to the system's mission description, he only needed to obtain the Philosopher's Stone, but since he had acquired this alchemical artifact, it would be unreasonable not to study it.
Thinking about it, he smiled again: "Of course, if you can introduce me to Nicolas Flamel, I can also do without lending you the Philosopher's Stone. I heard that he and his wife live in seclusion in Devonshire?"
Upon hearing this, Dumbledore did not hesitate and put on a gentle but fake smile: "Although using the Philosopher's Stone to create gold is somewhat unearned, your intentions are good. As the headmaster, how can I stop you from doing good deeds?"
He got up and walked outside:
"Come with me, son, I'll show you the trials I've prepared for Harry."
"Don't pretend you didn't hear me, Albus. Actually, I just wanted to ask Nicolas Flamel about alchemy. You know, this subject is too ancient and lacks systematic organization and classification, making it very difficult to get started."
"What did you say? Sorry, as people get older, their ears always seem to have some problems for no reason."
Vaughn didn't seem to care and followed Dumbledore out of the headmaster's office, saying slowly, "Oh dear, I suddenly think, was my decision a bit hasty? Getting involved in Harry and Tom's fate so rashly doesn't seem very wise."
Despite his advanced age, Old Deng reacted quickly, replying immediately, "Ah—you mean Nicolas Flamel? Yes, he's practically a living fossil when it comes to alchemy, but..."
He sighed. "Let him rest, Vaughn. He and Perel have decided to stop taking the elixir of immortality. As an old friend, I hope they can spend the last leg of their lives in peace."
Vaughn didn't say anything more.
Although he never considered himself a good person, even the most flexible bottom line has its limits, and naturally he couldn't really disturb an elderly couple who had lived for six centuries and now only wanted to die peacefully.
Even if he genuinely wanted to consult Nicolas Flamel.
Since enrolling at Hogwarts, Vaughn has borrowed many books on alchemy from the library, and so far he has been able to create some small gadgets—the magical gadgets he modified using Muggle equipment in his research on Wolfsbane Potion applied some alchemical techniques.
But those techniques are very basic; they simply involve applying a spell to the equipment and then solidifying it.
It's less like alchemy and more like a modern, improved version of item enchanting.
True alchemy should involve altering the nature of matter. According to some books that Vaughn has read, alchemy believes that all matter in the world can be transformed into one another, and that stone can be transformed into gold through a series of metamorphoses.
Soil can also be transformed into a living body through a series of metamorphosis.
If we disregard the idea of creating life and simply look at the transformation of matter through alchemy, it's practically the nuclear physics of the magical world!
However, while Muggles use particle acceleration, high-energy rays, and other methods to activate protons and neutrons to bombard atomic nuclei, wizards use magic to achieve similar goals more efficiently.
For example, manufacturing gold.
Muggles only recently began using particle accelerators or high-energy rays to bombard substances similar to gold nuclides (such as mercury) to artificially create gold. This requires a lot of energy and the results are uncontrollable (energy cannot be used evenly and precisely on every atomic nucleus).
Wizards have been able to do this for a long time, at the cost of magic or some relatively rare materials.
For Vaughn, creating gold using alchemy was actually a rather boring thing.
He has plenty of ways to get gold, why waste magic on something like that?
Nuclear physics in the magical world naturally involves studying nuclear energy and radioactive isotopes!
Dumbledore was clearly unaware of Vaughn's dangerous ideas; otherwise, he certainly wouldn't have agreed to let Vaughn learn alchemy.
Now leading the way, he simply compromised and said, "Vaughn, don't bother Nico. If you want to learn alchemy later, I can teach you... Of course, I suggest you wait two years before starting, since you still have a lot to learn right now."
Vaughn accepted the suggestion.
He has so much to learn right now, there's no need to rush. Improving his magical abilities is the most important thing.
The two were talking as they went downstairs.
When Dumbledore brought Vaughn to the start of the school year, he deliberately forbade students from wandering around the floors.
"Albus, you've been preparing Harry's trial since the start of the semester. When did you discover Quirrell's problem?"
"...Before the start of the semester." Dumbledore walked unhurriedly, his hands clasped in front of his abdomen, his gaze fixed on the door at the end of the corridor, the door he had warned his students not to go to when the semester started.
"Actually, Tom hid it very well. You must have used magic to observe Quirinas, right? You couldn't detect any traces of dark magic on him at all, could you?"
Vaughn nodded: "Apart from the fact that Tom later drained his life force, causing his life force to dim, there was almost nothing unusual about him."
"Yes, I didn't notice at first either," Dumbledore sighed. "He had his head wrapped in a turban, and I just thought he had encountered an accident on his journey and was a little nervous, which is why he was acting so nervously. You know, there are quite a few wizards like that in the wizarding world…"
"Tom underestimated how much I valued Harry. He also didn't know that although I couldn't perceive anything in terms of magic, fate would give me warnings. Before Harry entered school, I used the magic I showed you before, the Web of Fate, to spend more than ten days inspecting the entire castle, including the professors."
Vaughn paused for a moment, then asked, "Is there any hope for Quirrell?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment, then spoke: "No... Quirinus Quirrell was already dead when he opened his soul and allowed Tom to inhabit it!"
This is a sad topic.
Vaughn had heard Dumbledore talk about Quirrell's past.
According to Lao Deng, he was a young man with a strong thirst for knowledge, great talent, and a positive and optimistic attitude.
Professor McGonagall also spoke highly of him. Vaughn recalled that once at the Transfiguration Club, he saw Quirrell, as an outstanding student, in a graduation photo with Professor McGonagall on her desk.
Apart from the divination class, the other professors spoke in a similar tone. Of course, they were unaware of the truth, and when they talked about Quirrell, they mostly expressed regret.
Some of the more short-tempered ones even believed it was a curse from the Defense Against the Dark Arts class that had turned Quirrell into a babbling, timid coward.
For example, Professor Silvanus Ketterburn.
This professor of the Magical Creatures class is known for his volatile and reckless nature. As a result, after teaching at Hogwarts for many years, he now only has one arm and half a leg that are original parts; the rest are magically prosthetics.
However, over the decades, he has had many students, including Voldemort and Hagrid, who were once little wizards who followed him around asking questions.
Dumbledore was very pleased that Hagrid had followed him and learned so much about magical creatures.
Not wanting to talk much about Quirrell, Dumbledore started discussing the trials he had prepared for Harry.
The first thing he mentioned was Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn: "Over the years, I have been unable to get Sylvanas to change his strange hobby of large, ferocious magical creatures. Decades ago, when he was still Principal Armando, the school was rehearsing a play called 'Good Luck Fountain' and asked him to provide a giant earthworm."
"As a result, he cast a powerful spell on a fire ash snake and lent it to the film crew... You can imagine what a disaster that was."
Vaughn raised an eyebrow.
Fire serpents are magical creatures with very short lifespans and a very peculiar way of life. They are born from uncontrolled magical flames.
During their lifetime, they will frantically lay eggs, and an hour later, their bodies, having laid their eggs, will burn violently, turning to ashes and losing their lives.
Normally, a slender fire ash snake, similar in size to an ordinary water snake, is enough to set a house ablaze if it dies, let alone after being amplified by a curse.
Vaughn knew about it because of the Fire Ash Snake Eggs, which were the ingredients for aphrodisiacs.
"For the original trial, I wanted to ask Sylvanas to provide a magical creature, but my aging memory told me that if I didn't want to kill Harry, I'd better choose someone else, so I chose Hagrid—he lent me a very fierce magical creature that looked quite impressive."
As he spoke, Dumbledore led Vaughn to the end of the corridor and opened the door.
The moment the door opened, a stench mixed with heavy breathing rushed out, and a huge shadow loomed over Vaughn and Dumbledore.
It was a large dog, about 14 feet tall, with a huge body that almost filled the room. It had three heads, each one ferocious and cruel. Even when it was fast asleep, its long, dagger-like teeth protruding from its lips were full of savagery.
Hearing the sound of the door opening, the three-headed dog opened its eyes, its huge, bloodshot eyes staring at the two of them.
Good evening, Lou Williams.
Dumbledore greeted it.
Unfortunately, the three-headed dog didn't listen. Its three heads growled, and one of them opened its mouth and bit at the dog.
Dumbledore was not nervous at all. He even said to Vaughn with interest, "Compared to those cruel little things that Sylvanas keeps, Fluffy is much safer, and he has trained this big guy to have a unique hobby."
As he spoke, he clapped his hands, and magic began to play music.
The three-headed dog, which was tearing at the ground, immediately stopped. Its six ears stood up, and its three fierce faces quickly became fascinated and dazed by the music.
Soon, it yawned, its huge body wriggled a few times in the room, making the floor and ceiling creak, and then it fell into a deep sleep.
Dumbledore blinked. "What do you think of it as the first test of Harry's trials?"
Vaughn scoffed: "Not very good. It can only fool little kids, or fool Quirrell and Tom when they're desperate."
"Oh, Vaughn, don't be so harsh. At least before we knew about its weakness to being easily hypnotized by music, it was still quite intimidating. A three-headed dog isn't so easy to deal with."
"One Killing Curse can solve it."
"No, the Killing Curse requires a lot of magic, especially to kill such a huge creature. Quirinas probably can't provide that much magic… Come on, let's go to the next level."
Dumbledore used magic to move Fluffy aside, revealing the trapdoor beneath it.
He opened it and floated down with Vaughn.
The passageway beneath the trapdoor was pitch black, and something seemed to be rustling and wriggling in the darkness.
This level was even more boring. Even without relying on his memories of his past life, just by smelling the dampness in the air and the unique movement pattern, he knew what it was.
"Ha, Devil's Net, a harmless little thing."
Vaughn summoned flames, and a huge magical fireball hovered above their heads.
In the instant that light and heat burst forth, darkness was dispelled, and the snake-like vines that had been hiding in the darkness and coiling towards the two from all directions suddenly screamed and retreated back into the cracks in the wall.
Dumbledore clapped his hands vigorously: "Excellent, Vaughn, Pomona will be very proud of you. I must say, in the field of botany, being able to apply the knowledge from books is more than enough."
Vaughn gave a half-smile: "Thank you for the compliment, but unfortunately I'm not Harry."
"To be honest, this challenge was added later. I didn't really expect Harry and Ron to know how to solve it. On the contrary, it was more suitable for Miss Granger."
Speaking of this, Dumbledore had a bit of a headache. Although he didn't expect Harry to be as academically excellent as his parents, Harry becoming a poor student still bothered him quite a bit.
Vaughn was equally dissatisfied: "You secretly included my girlfriend in the trial, shouldn't you have asked for my opinion first?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I assure you there's no danger. In the end, only Harry will be able to face Tom."
Dumbledore apologized as usual, then looked at Vaughn with a strange expression, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.
"What are you trying to say, Albus?"
"...While I'd love to see you in love, you're both still young. Shouldn't you be a little more reserved in front of me? I'm the principal, do you remember?"
"Oh, Albus, are there any rules at Hogwarts that forbid dating?"
"..." Dumbledore's beard twitched as he began to consider whether to add some new school rules.
But think about it: if he forbade students from dating, he would likely immediately oust Phileas Black and become the most unpopular headmaster in Hogwarts history.