Chapter 101 Vaughn: Albus, you're a devil!
"Professor Quirrell and Snape?"
"Yes!" Vaughn said seriously. "Of all the professors, only these two are the most unusual. Quirrell is because of his quirks. To be honest, it's so hot, and he still wears a big headscarf every day. It's really suspicious."
"Dumbledore doubted Professor Snape because he was so hostile to Harry, he practically wished Harry dead, but as I said before, Dumbledore believed him."
So, in reality, there has been no progress at all.
Hermione scratched her head in frustration: "What did Dumbledore say?"
Vaughn didn't hesitate to throw mud: "Our dear headmaster said nothing. He's so engrossed in desserts and knitting that chasing the dark wizard isn't as important to him as coming up with new knitting patterns."
"Oh my god, how could he do this!"
Hermione looked at him in disbelief. "He's the headmaster, how can he be so irresponsible?"
"Honey, you should have realized he was unreliable the first day of school when he made us sing the school song!"
Hermione wanted to salvage some of the headmaster's dignity, but after carefully considering what she had witnessed over the past few months, she simply couldn't bring herself to say that Dumbledore was a responsible headmaster.
Hermione had strong opinions, at least regarding the handling of the Philosopher's Stone.
Frustrated, she kicked a pebble away: "Why did he have to hide the Philosopher's Stone in the school? Why did he protect Snape? Why did he recruit someone like Professor Quirrell... Sorry, I shouldn't have gotten angry."
Vaughn offered her a hypocritical consolation: "It's not your fault, it's all Dumbledore's fault!"
...
Why is it all my fault?
In the headmaster's office, Dumbledore's pale beard trembled as he questioned Vaughn, who was rummaging through his satchel and checking his day's finds, across from him on the desk.
In the corner, standing in the shadows, Snape let out a loud snort.
That was blatant mockery.
Dumbledore's face hardened as he watched Vaughn pull out the fairy jar and slowly admire it under the lamp. He couldn't help but accuse, "You're the one who deceived them! How heartless you must be to so easily shift all the blame onto someone like that..."
"A centenarian, right?"
Vaughn interrupted him, "I'm sick and tired of that excuse. Please come up with something else next time! Besides, if you hadn't insisted on testing Harry, I wouldn't have needed to lie to my girlfriend... You don't need to widen your eyes so much. If you, as the headmaster, can't stand such intimate terms of address, please change the school rules to prohibit dating, thank you."
"Perfect—sharp!"
In the shadows, Snape let out a drawn-out exclamation.
"Thank you for the compliment, Professor." Vaughn nodded gracefully and continued, "If it weren't for you testing Harry, Quirrell would have been killed by us long ago, and Voldemort would have turned into smoke and rolled back to Albania long ago. Albus, all of this stems from your willfulness, at least Professor Snape and I have always opposed it."
"Absolutely right!"
Snape beamed with delight. Vaughn's words had struck a chord with him. He had always thought that testing Harry was a pointless exercise—don't get me wrong, he wasn't doing it for Harry's sake, he just felt that with Harry Potter's brain, any so-called test would be like talking to a brick wall.
"Cough cough!" Dumbledore coughed loudly and glared at Snape.
The Potions Professor snorted, his face turning serious again, and he refrained from further provocation.
Dumbledore scratched his cheek. Faced with Vaughn's words, he really couldn't refute them, so he could only awkwardly change the subject: "Have you finished collecting all the materials?"
Vaughn clicked his tongue but didn't argue anymore. "The collection is complete. They are mostly magical creatures of magical classification level XX to XXX. Their temperament and magical abilities have been carefully selected to maintain their fierce nature while ensuring that their destructive power is not too lethal. They are all excellent materials."
As he spoke, he took out the "materials" from his satchel, including the fairy glass jar, and placed them one by one on the table in front of Dumbledore.
Apart from the fairies who were disguised as decorations and remained perfectly still, the other magical creatures all seemed very energetic.
Several vixens were locked in a cage, ramming against it desperately, occasionally baring their teeth at Vaughn and Dumbledore.
A swarm of glowing insects, resembling large water bubbles, floated up and down in the air. Inside each bubble was a Grindylo trapped inside, squeaking and straining to stretch out its long, sharp claws, trying to puncture the glowing insects and escape.
Several ball-escape birds darted about, landing on Dumbledore's table and pecking at the pile of cockroaches inside the candy bowl.
The various magical creatures, some free-roaming and some bound, pleased Dumbledore greatly.
"Excellent, Vaughn, these are all fantastic materials. They will definitely greatly enrich the surprise adventure we have prepared for Harry. I'm thinking of calling this level 'Mini Forbidden Forest,' which is simple, straightforward, and closely related to the theme. What do you think?"
Vaughn said dryly, "It's just so-so."
"What? Very good? Oh, thank you for your approval, my dear." Dumbledore wiped his eyes tremblingly and looked at Snape with a smile.
Snape: "...Boring!"
"Thank you too, Severus, but I'm not asking for your opinion. What I want to ask is, have you prepared all your potion ingredients?"
Snape's reply was dry and malicious: "Full, and in excess. Potter will have an unforgettable experience, and might even be poisoned!"
"Okay, Severus, that's great."
Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction and clapped his hands. "Alright, gentlemen, everything is ready. Now we just need to wait for the final construction of the mechanisms to be completed before our Harry's Trial can begin..."
"What a disgusting name."
"Don't be like that, Severus. You're being so petty and mean now. You should learn from me and be more open-minded."
"Shut up!"
"This is really a headache, Vaughn. You must never end up like him!"
"Yes, Vaughn Weasley, you'd better watch out, lest you become a stupid and neurotic old man like Dumbledore, it would be too tragic!"
Vaughn couldn't be bothered with the childish banter of these two guys whose combined age was almost 150 (Dumbledore was born in July 1881 and is currently 110 years old, while Snape was born in January 1960 and is 32 years old).
He asked, "When exactly will the plan begin?"
"Early May, Vaughn."
Dumbledore smiled and said, "This way, there will be a month left before the final exams in June, allowing Harry to focus on his studies."
Vaughn: "...Albus, you're a devil...but I like it!"
When I came out of the principal's office, it was already completely dark.
Vaughn stretched, and the door behind him opened and closed again. He turned around and saw Snape coming out carrying a suitcase.
The briefcase belonged to Snape and contained some potion ingredients that Vaughn had found today.
Vaughn greeted him: "Professor, how is the quality of the wrinkled figs? I specially selected them from a pile of fruits to ensure that the medicinal effect is sufficient."
Only after hearing "the drug is strong enough" did Snepla manage a slight smile on his long face.
"You have a good eye; Potter is in luck."
Vaughn was speechless.
He felt that if it could be achieved, Snape would be more than happy if the ingredients for this potion were ten or a hundred times more potent.
Vaughn didn't want to hear Snape's malicious fantasies about Harry, so he changed the subject: "Professor, have you had dinner? I'm on my way to the dining room, shall we go together?"
"No need, I'm not hungry. I need to go back and brew the potion. It will take at least 12 hours, so I'll have to take good care of him."
Do you need my help?
"No!" Snape refused, his cold expression crumbling slightly, tinged with excitement: "This is a gift I prepared for Potter, how can I entrust it to you?"
Vaughn: "..."
He was mocking Dumbledore just a moment ago, but now he's more enthusiastic than anyone else.
Okay!
Whatever makes you happy!
After saying goodbye to the energetic and energized Professor Snape, Vaughn strolled leisurely towards the dining room.
As he passed through the courtyard, he saw the Quidditch pitch still lit up in the distance.
Above the stadium, shrouded in darkness, one could vaguely see people flying back and forth at high speed.
Vaughn stopped a passing lion cub and asked him who he was still at the stadium.
The little lion replied admiringly, "It's Harry. He's worked so hard, training all this time."
Another little lion sighed, "It's a pity we lost the first match last year. We're in second place now. Unless we win by a large margin in the final match against Slytherin, we won't be able to shake Slytherin's first-place ranking."
In the Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts, there is no tiebreaker for a draw – after all, the term is short and everything has to give way to exams at the end of the term – so its rules calculate the total score in addition to the wins in the round-robin tournament.
Slytherin are currently undefeated, catching the Golden Snitch in every match, and are far ahead in total points.
The regretful little lion looked at Vaughn with complicated eyes. It was this guy who had turned Gryffindor's most promising year into nothing again.
Unfortunately, having witnessed Vaughn's level of spellcasting and heard the rumors about Slytherin House, he didn't dare to utter any harsh words. After his companion finished answering, they left together.
Vaughn glanced back at the Quidditch pitch and clicked his tongue.
"Is Harry being so cocky because he's trying to beat me? Sigh, I was planning to slack off for a while after finishing up this..."
Vaughn is determined to win the College Cup. Even though no one else thinks Gryffindor can pull off a miracle, Vaughn isn't going to pop champagne at halftime.
That evening, he found Flint and, under the man's fearful yet wise gaze, gave him the following instructions:
"I want to participate in team training and have a strategy devised for me."
"ah?"
"This time the situation is different. Harry is now able to participate in Gryffindor's offensive system. I need you to come up with a better way to limit him."
"ah..."
"Furthermore, I don't want a third person to know about today's conversation. All tactical considerations are your own decisions, understand?"
Marcus Flint's mouth moved, but he ultimately didn't dare to say no.
...
As mentioned earlier, no student likes the Easter holiday.
This dreaded holiday was less of a break and more of a frenzy of professors assigning homework. To make the most of every minute of the young wizards' time and squeeze every last drop of their energy, almost every professor went to great lengths.
This year in particular, in order to improve the quality of assignments and prevent plagiarism, professors have even mandated that young wizards use specially made parchment.
They are enchanted so that they will not only refuse the automatic quill pen, but also refuse the prying eyes of anyone other than their owner.
So, this holiday felt like a nightmare to Ron!
On the last day of the holiday, Ron was sweating profusely as he hunched over his desk, writing furiously. Occasionally, due to a mishap with his "wand divination," his answers would be judged wrong by the parchment, and he would erupt in impotent rage, shouting and screaming.
Hermione was getting annoyed by his noise, and finally snapped when he started yelling and cursing again, "Can't you be quiet for even a minute? Instead of complaining about your wand, why can't you calm down and think carefully about the question and answer it yourself instead of using...divination?"
Ron declared confidently, "But I can't answer them. I don't know a single one!"
"Good heavens, then why do you still go to watch Harry train every day? Two weeks is so much time; you could review your first-year curriculum all over again!"
"Nonsense!" Ron didn't believe it and defended himself for going to see Harry train: "I didn't go to see Harry for fun, I went to encourage him. It's the last match of the semester, a life-or-death battle. Harry is under tremendous pressure and needs someone to cheer him on!"
As they were talking, the door to the common room opened, and Harry dragged his exhausted body in. He looked like he was about to die, his face ashen and his lips cracked.
The two quickly stopped arguing. Ron ran to help Harry to the sofa, while Hermione poured him a cup of tea.
"Harry, how are you? You look terrible," Hermione asked with concern. "Is training not going well?"
Harry nodded, as if to say something, but no sound came out when he opened his mouth.
He didn't panic. He had experienced this many times recently and was used to it. It was caused by flying around all day, talking loudly, and getting too much wind in.
He took a sip of tea, which soothed his dry throat and made him feel a little better. Then he said in a hoarse voice, "Slytherin has developed a new tactic. Angelina secretly saw it yesterday, and Wood and I have been thinking about and practicing ways to counter it all day today."
Upon hearing about the new tactics, Ron immediately became excited and eager to find out the details.
Hermione stopped him: "Can't you see how bad he looks? Can't you let him rest?"
Exhausted, Harry nodded gratefully to Hermes, then asked his two friends, "How about you guys? How was your day?"
Ron said sullenly, "It's not good. She won't let me see you. All I have to do is homework."
When homework was mentioned, Harry suddenly felt that he might as well just die on the field.
No matter how tiring the training is, there's no escaping the homework.
He didn't want to think about that terrifying thing, and turned to Hermione: "And you? Still investigating the professors?"
Since Hermione and Vaughn went to the Forbidden Forest a little over a week ago, she has resumed her investigation into dark wizards.
Harry was quite concerned about this matter, after all, he still carried the "curse" of the dark wizard!
"Yes, Harry, I recently revisited the professors…"
Hermione said.
Before he could finish speaking, Ron's eyes widened in shock: "Following? When? Didn't you supervise me and Harry doing our homework every day?"
"Of course, it's when Harry goes to training every day, and you go along to join the fun, Ronald Weasley! Also, don't be too surprised that I have so much time. If you didn't spend ten minutes doing homework and an hour daydreaming, you would also find that you have more time than you can use!"
When Hermione gets angry, she's like a fierce little lion, leaving Ron speechless.
Harry scratched his face awkwardly.
He was almost exactly like Ron in terms of getting distracted while doing his homework, so naturally he didn't dare to provoke Hermione's attention.
Fortunately, Hermione didn't dwell on the issue.
She continued, "Based on our previous investigations and the feedback I've received recently, the other professors can be largely ruled out as suspects. Between Snape and Quirrell, I'm more inclined to believe that Professor Quirrell is the dark wizard!"
Harry and Ron were not very satisfied with this answer.
"Why?"
"Yes, that old Snape… I mean, you saw how Snape treated Harry, he practically wished him dead. In comparison, Professor Quirrell was so good to Harry, he was Harry's admirer!"
Harry scratched his face again, a little embarrassed.
"That's the problem." Hermione's eyes sparkled as she looked at Harry. "Harry, do you remember what you told us about the first time you went into Diagon Alley?"
"Uh, of course I remember, I'll never forget that day."
Harry replied, looking somewhat bewildered, "Why do you ask that?"
Hermione didn't answer directly, but said, "I've realized we've been going around in circles. We're always trying to find out who the dark wizard is by observing the professors' suspicious behavior, but the truth is, we don't have that ability or insight."
"So I tried to think about it from a different angle. Since we can't make a judgment based on the professors' current behavior, could we investigate their past activities and analyze them?"
"Harry, the day you went to Diagon Alley was also the day Hagrid took the Philosopher's Stone from Gringotts, and the Gringotts theft happened. Of all the professors at Hogwarts, how many did you encounter that day?"
"I…" Harry paused, then suddenly realized what Hermione meant. His eyes widened. "…There's only one, the Leaky Cauldron, Quirrell!"
Hagrid takes the Philosopher's Stone, Gringotts is robbed, and Quirrell is at the Leaky Cauldron.
Everything that seemed like a coincidence suddenly connected at this moment.
Seeing Harry's enlightened expression, Hermione nodded in satisfaction: "That's right, I investigated. During that period, apart from Quirrell and Professor McGonagall, all the other professors were at Hogwarts and did not leave. Excluding Professor McGonagall, only Quirrell fits perfectly in terms of time and location with the Gringotts theft."
Neither Ron nor Harry questioned why Professor McGonagall should be excluded.
Her strictness and fairness had long been deeply ingrained in people's hearts. Even though Harry and Ron had been scolded and reprimanded by her, they never resented her.
The two looked at each other in bewilderment.
Harry was still persistent. "Was Snape at Hogwarts at the time? Maybe he sneaked out?"
"Yes, he is!" Hermione opened her satchel, took out several newspapers and records, and unfolded them for the two to see: "These are the 'Extraordinary Potions' newspapers from those days, as well as the school's records of owl usage. Snape was arguing with someone in the newspapers those days because Vaughn was about to enroll, and some apothecaries who opposed Vaughn's magic extraction method were clamoring for Hogwarts to revoke his admission."
"Look here, on the day of the Gringotts theft, Snape used the owl 46 times, almost throughout the entire day—unless he could have been writing letters while hacking into Gringotts, it could never have been him!"
Harry and Ron carefully examined the records.
Indeed, as Hermione said, Snape used the owl very frequently during those days, and the fierce "flame war" in the newspapers also matched that frequency.
The owls at Hogwarts are enchanted; all the owls that live there are under contract and their comings and goings are automatically recorded.
Harry felt his mouth was dry and stared blankly for a while before raising his head with a complicated expression.
Although she was still reluctant to admit it, after Hermione's explanation and the corresponding evidence, no matter how unlikely it seemed, Quirrell was indeed the prime suspect.
This felt incredibly absurd and unreal to him.
Because, perhaps due to their similar circumstances, he had once been as weak as Quirrell, bullied and looked down upon, so he had always felt sorry for Quirrell.
Quirrell was also the professor at the school who valued and was friendly to him the most.
Long-buried memories resurfaced, and he seemed to see again that terrifying figure from last Halloween night, wandering the fourth-floor corridor, exuding powerful and evil magic that distorted the surrounding light.
My forehead is throbbing slightly as a result.
Harry touched the scar on his forehead, slumped onto the sofa, and asked Hermione, "So, what should we do?"
The unexpected truth left him confused and unable to make up his mind.
Hermione sighed, "There's nothing we can do."
"What?"
"These are all inferences and speculations, Harry. We have no evidence. The dark wizard hasn't appeared since Halloween. We can't use such reasons to question a professor. Not only would we fail to expose him, but we would also alert him!"
Harry's forehead veins bulged, and he became somewhat agitated: "Are we just going to watch like this?"
Surprisingly, Ron, who is usually impulsive, agreed with Hermione this time: "Harry, Hermione is right. We can't identify a professor based on guesswork alone without evidence. Just like in Muggle society, even if you know someone is a bad guy, you can't do anything to him without evidence."
Harry was breathing heavily. He didn't want to hear those words. All he knew was that he was feeling terrible, a mixture of anger and disappointment.
Although it wasn't particularly intense, the fact that someone who was usually very kind to him secretly wanted to harm him undoubtedly hurt him deeply.
He sat down for a while, then stood up and paced back and forth, thinking it over and over, but he still couldn't stand it anymore. "If you won't do it, I will. I'll go find Professor McGonagall, I'll go find Dumbledore!"
After saying that, he hurriedly ran out of the Gryffindor Tower.
Ron quickly called out, "Harry, don't be impulsive, wait for me!"
They followed.
Hermione sighed and followed behind. In fact, she told Vaughn the moment she deduced the "truth".
Vaughn didn't say whether her speculation was correct, but instead asked her, "How are you going to prove it to Dumbledore and the professors?"
She couldn't prove it, nor did she believe Professor McGonagall would listen to a student.
Sure enough, when Hermione followed and arrived at Professor McGonagall's office, she heard the stern voice of the Vice-Headmistress inside:
"Mr. Potter, what evidence do you have to prove that Professor Quirrell is the... the dark wizard from Halloween night?"
"I..."
"Mr. Potter, is this your new trick to avoid homework? To be honest, you're incredibly audacious; no student has ever dared to use slandering a professor as an excuse!"
"No, I didn't—"
"Oh, Mr. Potter, have you finished your homework?"
Harry: "..."
Outside the door, Ron's hand, which was about to knock, froze, and Hermione covered her face.
The question, "Have you finished your homework?" extinguished Harry's anger.
He should be thankful that Professor McGonagall was counting on him to do well in the Quidditch tournament after Easter, so she unusually showed favoritism and kept the matter a secret.
Normally, this would definitely be a double punishment for doing extra homework.
Along with his anger, Harry's dependence on adults was also extinguished.
On the way back, he said angrily to his two friends, "I shouldn't have relied on those adults. They searched for such a dangerous dark wizard for half a year and still couldn't find him. Since they didn't believe us, we'll do it ourselves!"
Ron was taken aback: "What? Do it yourself?"
"Of course, we'll keep an eye on Quirrell!" Harry said resolutely and solemnly. "Ron, Hermione, from today onwards, we'll be watching Quirrell's every move. He certainly won't give up the Philosopher's Stone. Sooner or later, he'll be unable to resist and reveal his true colors."
"If we can't rely on the adults, then we'll protect the magic stone!"
Ron swallowed hard. He had never faced the dark wizard directly, but he had heard Harry talk about him more than once. Unlike Harry's ignorance of magic, Ron knew very well how powerful and insane a dark wizard who dared to cast the Killing Curse at Hogwarts was.
However, he was, after all, a Gryffindor.
It's impossible for him to back down and show fear of a "mere" dark wizard.
So he quickly came up with a way to reduce the danger:
"Harry, I think we need to tell Vaughn about this. We can't count on the professors. Only Vaughn can help us now. At least he stopped that dark wizard before!"
Hermione, standing nearby, couldn't help but roll her eyes: "Don't you always hate asking your brother for help?"
"These are two different things." Ron said righteously, "I don't ask him for help normally because of my dignity, but now I want to ask him for your safety. What does it matter if I sacrifice my own dignity as long as you are safe?"
Hermione: "..."
Harry's eyes welled up with tears of emotion.
...
The next day at noon, Ron appeared furtively outside Vaughn's dormitory.
Guoguocha greeted him with her paws.
Perhaps because he needed something from it, Ron didn't scold it this time.
He even brought Guoguocha a bag of dried fish, but Guoguocha didn't even smell it and dismissively swept it away with its tail.
Ron told Vaughn what had happened and their plans, then looked at him expectantly: "You'll help us, right?"
The spacious bedroom, which could originally accommodate 4 or 5 people but now houses only Vaughn, is filled with the shimmering light reflected from the Black Lake, making everything seem quiet and mysterious.
Vaughn sat behind his desk, half his face hidden in darkness, making it impossible for Ron to see his expression. Ron could only see that Vaughn was resting his chin on his hand, and his gaze seemed to hold a hint of interest.
What if I answer 'no'?
"Merlin!" Ron's mouth dropped open. "Harry is your friend, Hermione is your girlfriend, and me, your brother…"
"Ha—Ronald Weasley, we've grown up together, how many times have you admitted to being the younger brother?"
Ron's face flushed red. "Why all the nonsense? Are you going to say yes or no?"
"Huh? Is this how you beg for help?" Vaughn toyed with his quill and said with a smile, "I'm not entirely convinced. I'll give you another chance."
Ron tensed his jaw, as if he were gritting his teeth.
But he couldn't hold out any longer and squeezed out a whisper through gritted teeth: "Brother! Brother! Please help us!"
Seeing his awkwardness, Vaughn laughed heartily and finally nodded as Ron looked on the verge of collapse: "No problem, my dear brother. Although you are stupid and have a bad temper, like a rock in the toilet, as your older brother, I will never hate or give up on you."
Ron: "...I've never seen a brother like you before!"
"Now you've seen it, Ronald. Speaking of which, if you were so unwilling, why didn't you let Hermione tell me?"
Ron snorted: "I made the suggestion, so naturally I can't hide behind it!"
Tsk!
It seems I did underestimate this guy's courage and sense of responsibility. Courage and reckless "recklessness" are two different concepts. In the past, Vaughn always thought Ron was a bit like the latter.
After seeing Ron off, Vaughn went straight to the principal's office.
Dumbledore, who had just finished lunch and was enjoying dessert, informed Harry and his two companions of their decision to keep an eye on Quirrell.
Dumbledore was not surprised: "As expected, Vaughn. Harry is not a child who gives up easily. He can be quite reckless at times, and it is precisely because of this flaw that he needs to be tested even more."
"But in my opinion, your and the professors' inaction has seriously damaged Harry's trust in you, and may even lead him to consider you less and less in his future actions."
"I am pleased to see this change," Dumbledore smiled. "In the past, I loved to show off my wisdom and try to bring everyone into my plans and rhythm. But after experiencing setbacks, I tried to compromise and let a free soul develop according to his own will. He showed me more possibilities."
Sitting across from him, Vaughn narrowed his eyes slightly: "This so-called free spirit, could it be me?"
"Correct answer, darling!"
"Tsk—"
"I have indeed learned a lot from you, my child. I used to think I was always right. I proudly looked down on others, manipulated them, and became accustomed to their dependence on me, which in turn made them become accustomed to depending on me…"
He shook his head. "Actually, I know that you have always disapproved of me testing Harry. Unlike Severus, who simply found it boring, your opposition stems from a difference in ideology. You believe that no one can control everything forever, especially when trying to manipulate one or many living beings."
"Life cannot always operate within a prescribed framework; it will find its own way... This is something you once said, and it is very philosophical, even surpassing many adults."
"So I'm glad that Harry can break free from dependence and try to act and think independently, even if he's a bit reckless."
Vaughn listened silently for a moment before saying mockingly, "But now they seem to be relying on me!"
Dumbledore smiled and said, "It's alright. You'll end up like me, leaving the school due to some unexpected event, allowing Harry and the others to happily embark on their independent adventures."
Insidious old man!
Vaughn curled his lip and said with a hint of malice, "To be honest, this change of yours makes me feel like you're making your final arrangements."
This was originally just a sarcastic remark.
But the next moment, Vaughn was astonished to see Dumbledore shrug and say, "You could say that this consideration was one of the reasons that led to my change of mind."
The office fell silent at his words.
After a long silence, Vaughn finally frowned and spoke: "Fate?"
"Yes... fate, a premonition, a premonition that I will embark on another journey in the future..."
When will you die?
"have no idea."
"What caused their death?"
"have no idea."
Vaughn stared speechlessly at Dumbledore: "Knowing nothing, what kind of prophecy is this? I also know that I will die one day. As long as you are human, you will die one day!"
Dumbledore smiled and stroked his beard: "It's different, my dear. You don't have a talent for divination, so it's hard for me to describe the feeling to you. It's like... like you're struggling with a difficult problem, thinking about it in a daze, and then, without warning, you suddenly get the answer, and your mind becomes clearer than ever before."
"A strong, almost instinctive feeling told me that one day, a few years from now, my life would come to an end because of something."
Vaughn tried hard to think about it, but he still couldn't imagine what that state was like. Based on Dumbledore's analogy, he felt it was more like the old man had a mental problem.
And this guy even took the opportunity to mock his divination talent, how infuriating!
Normally, Vaughn would have retorted, but today he unusually held back and asked Dumbledore, "Is there any way to avoid this?"
To Vaughn's surprise, Dumbledore seemed nonchalant: "Why avoid it?"
Vaughn frowned, looking at Dumbledore with surprise: "The Albus Dumbledore I know is not one to submit to fate!"
Dumbledore laughed heartily: "My child, human nature is a very complex and contradictory thing. No label can accurately summarize a person's character and ideological tendencies."
"Yes, I do not like to submit to the arrangements of fate. Whether it was Grindelwald or Tom decades ago, I liked to rebel and fight back, to make fate develop in the way I expected."
"But all of that is because the vortex of fate stirred up by Grindelwald and Tom has too great an impact. If no one intervenes, countless innocent lives will be lost. So I have to fight. But if it is just the life and death of Albus Dumbledore, such a trivial fate, why should I resist it?"
He smiled and picked up a cockroach, popping it into his mouth: "As you said, every human being will eventually perish. The difference is that some people die in a warm bed, while others die on the battlefield."
"Do you remember what I said? Death is just another great adventure."
Vaughn remained silent, unsure how to evaluate this mindset: was it magnanimity? Or escapism?
Compared to the contradictions Dumbledore displayed, Vaughn felt that he was more pure—he would never entrust his life and future to a vague, intangible concept.
He revered fate, but he revered the knowledge and power contained within it, not fate itself!
After a moment of silence, Vaughn asked, "So, whose vortex of fate gave you a premonition of death?"
Dumbledore once said that fate is like a wicked god, and every age will give birth to children of fate, who will stir up storms and whirlpools in the web of destiny, fight each other, and implicate the innocent.
If the story follows the original plot, Dumbledore's death would definitely be because of Harry and Tom.
But now, that's not necessarily the case.
Upon hearing his words, Dumbledore paused, a smile playing on his aged face: "I'm sorry, dear, I didn't know."
Vaughn stopped talking and lowered his eyes.
Did Dumbledore really not know?
He recalled seeing the magic Dumbledore used to observe the Web of Fate. Perhaps Dumbledore couldn't make prophecies, but he could still trace the origins of fate through observation of the Web of Fate.
His "I don't know" might just be a way of saying he doesn't want to.
Perhaps the person who caused his premonition of death was right beside him...
...
At night, the Black Lake outside the Slytherin common room was deep and dark, and even the pale blue light of magical flames could not dispel the darkness.
Vaughn lay in bed, gazing up at the tassels hanging from the curtains above him, his mind still pondering Dumbledore's words about the premonition of death.
In fact, he always remembered one thing.
Dumbledore once told him that the vortex of Harry and Tom's fate was disturbed when he established the Werewolf Affairs Committee.
Vaughn's understanding of fate was limited, but the interaction of everything in the world follows the same logic to some extent—what can affect one vortex must be another, larger vortex that is forming.
It wasn't the Werewolf Affairs Committee that interfered with Harry and Tom's fate.
It was Vaughn Weasley who personally spearheaded its formation!
Vaughn has always been clear about what he needs and what he is pursuing.
Vaughn doesn't actually like the current wizarding world.
In his view, the magical world's potential has not been fully realized. This power and knowledge system, which is completely different from Muggle natural science, has been passively managed by lazy wizards.
Magic and alchemy have existed for thousands of years, yet even in modern times, they have not been systematically compiled into a rigorous and precise system, and the lifestyle of wizards seems to remain in the Middle Ages.
In particular, the so-called "International Secrecy Act," a law that completely separates the wizarding world from Muggle society, is simply a step backward for the times!
Chapter 102 Vaughn's Fate and Splatoon Ron
After the enactment of the Secret Law, wizards buried their heads in the sand like ostriches.
They are lost in the false peace and prosperity that comes from concessions, praising and lamenting the hardships of life, indulging in the abundance of material gifts bestowed by magic, living a life of debauchery, and dreaming of a peaceful existence in a secluded corner forever!
However, it overlooks the fact that only by maintaining competition can progress be achieved. From a macro-historical perspective, the idea of natural selection has permeated almost the entire history of human development.
No country or group has ever gained a chance to survive through constant compromise and concessions; those who cannot be born in adversity will ultimately be eliminated.
Of course, in essence, Vaughn was not someone who cared about the survival of the wizarding world.
All he ever sought was magic.
"Fruit Tea, I love magic, I yearn to understand all its secrets, truths, knowledge, and power!"
He suddenly spoke, and Guoguocha, who was lying next to him, slightly raised her head to listen to Vaughn's voice.
"I long to one day unravel the mystery of the origin of magic, I long to one day reach the end of magic, and see what this world is really like from the highest peak... But I know that I can't do it alone!"
Human resources are sometimes limited.
Even with the system, Vaughn didn't believe he could push magic to its limits on his own.
"I need help from others, the more the better. The development of any knowledge system must rely on the collective strength and wisdom, but the current magical world cannot do that..."
"The current magical world is inefficient and disorganized. Centuries of false peace have caused everyone to lose their sense of urgency and collectivism. They lack identification with a unified will and, more importantly, a competitive spirit."
"Fruit Tea, I've known for a long time that if I want to go further down the path of magic, I must change the magical world!"
Fruit Tea couldn't help but snuggle into Warn's arms: "Meow~"
Vaughn glanced at it and smiled:
"Yes, it's difficult... but fortunately, we live at a critical juncture, when the Muggle society is about to experience an information revolution."
"The Internet is profoundly impacting the world. In just a few years, mobile phones and mobile networks will be widely available. With the ever-accelerating technological progress of Muggles, the maintenance of the Secrets Act will become increasingly precarious."
"Years later, a photo or a video will spread to every corner of the globe at a speed beyond your imagination. Even if the Ministry of Magic cooperates with the Muggle government to block information, as long as wizards still have contact with Muggles and remain active in Muggle society, the cost of such concealment will inevitably increase until it becomes unbearable for everyone, and the cooperation will collapse!"
"In my view, the future evolution of the wizarding world can only go in two directions. The first is that the wizarding world completely severs its ties with Muggle society, with all wizards living in a few villages and no one allowed to enter Muggle society anymore, and Hogwarts also ceasing to enroll students..."
His voice grew softer and softer, then stopped.
He lowered his head and looked into the eyes of Guoguocha, who was looking up at him.
He reached out and scratched its chin, and Guoguocha hugged his hand, whimpering softly.
Vaughn's voice was deep: "That's right, Fruit Tea, I don't like that kind of future. It was destined from the beginning. I will only choose the second direction of evolution—to abolish the Secrets Act, integrate the wizarding world, take the initiative, and forcefully promote the merging of the wizarding world and Muggle society!"
"And with this choice, war is inevitable!"
As someone who considers himself more of a researcher, Vaughn dislikes politics and, naturally, war.
The frustrating thing is that if he wants to push magic to its limit, he needs to integrate the magic world and even expand its power.
It is imperative to abolish the Law of Secrecy, promote the integration of wizards and Muggles, and popularize magic to address the problem of a small wizard population.
Such a change will undoubtedly lead to a series of conflicts.
Conflicts of ideas, conflicts of interest, and may even involve conflicts over the right to survival of species!
Even in Muggle society, a nation's rise to power will attract wolves from all sides, let alone wizards who are so different from ordinary humans and almost another species.
Once Muggles learn of the existence of wizards and magic, whether out of fear or greed, Muggles and wizards will inevitably repeat what happened hundreds of years ago.
This is a fundamental flaw in human nature, and it has remained unchanged throughout history.
Long ago, Vaughn also considered a peaceful approach to the process. He envisioned using memory magic to modify the minds of Muggle leaders and leveraging the control of the Muggle government to minimize the negative impact of the convergence.
Unfortunately, after experimentation and further consideration, this idea had to be abandoned.
First, the magical conditions are not met. Apart from the Oblivion Curse, the effects of memory magic are not permanent. It seems that the human memory system has a concept of "backup" in the soul. The more modifications are made, the easier it is to trigger the correction mechanism.
Imperius, which directly affects the soul, can achieve permanent control, but as dark magic, its corruption and high mana consumption are problems.
Another reason is that when it comes to issues like the merging of wizards and Muggles, which determine the fate of humanity, it is difficult for a minority to control the will of the group.
That's why he later changed his approach and pushed for the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee, thereby actively participating in the politics of the magical world.
Compared to Muggles, who have a large population and complex social conditions, wizards are undoubtedly much simpler.
This has nothing to do with morality or ideological awareness, but is determined by the population size. There are only tens of thousands of wizards in the whole of England, which naturally appears more "simple" compared to the 60 million Muggle population in England.
Even in such a "simple" environment, Vaughn felt that he would find it difficult to unify everyone's thoughts and understanding in the future.
There will inevitably be die-hards who insist on upholding the International Secrecy Act, such as pure-blood families, and so on—
Dumbledore!
A jumble of thoughts raced through his mind. While stroking Fruit Tea's soft fur, Vaughn stared blankly at the curtain above his head.
Guoguocha listened quietly to his murmured words:
"Dumbledore's premonition of death is probably related to me. Our views are vastly different, and it seems that my future self has not convinced him. We are ultimately not on the same path..."
"...What a pity!"
Sensing the complex emotions in Vaughn's tone, Guoguocha nuzzled her head against Vaughn's chin.
Meow~
"I'm fine, just a little sad."
The path of magic is somewhat lonely.
There aren't many wizards that Vaughn can respect and admire, and after spending so much time together, it's inevitable that some feelings will develop.
Although he would not give up his ideals and pursuits for the sake of feelings.
In a sense, he was also an idealist!
Of course, premonitions of death and foreshadowed fates are all uncertain and distant futures. Vaughn's attitude towards fate has always been one of awe, followed by an attempt to take control.
As night deepened and lights out time arrived, the magical flames in the dormitory gradually dimmed and went out.
In the darkness, only Vaughn's open eyes remained, still radiating a magical glow.
...
The agonizing Easter holiday is over, but no young wizards are relieved. For fifth-graders taking the OWLs exams and seventh-graders taking the NEWTs exams this year, the holiday's end means they only have one month left.
The situation wasn't much better in other grades. The professors didn't want the young wizards to level up by playing around, and many of them hadn't finished the homework assigned before the holidays.
Harry and Ron were among them.
Fortunately, Hogwarts does not have class representatives; homework is usually collected by the professors themselves during class.
The two of them had taken advantage of the last few days of the holiday to cram for the Monday and Tuesday assignments after school started, such as the History of Magic, Herbs, Transfiguration and Charms classes.
They all unanimously put the potion-making assignment last.
Even though Hermione's deductions led Harry and Ron to realize that Professor Snape wasn't a bad person, they still disliked him.
Especially on Tuesday, Harry stormed back to the common room in a rage.
When Hermione and Ron questioned him about why he hadn't gone to training, Harry snapped:
"I've never seen a more annoying guy than that old bat. Today it was supposed to be our turn to use the pitch, but he abused his headmaster's privileges and gave it to Slytherin!"
"That's outrageous!"
Ron immediately joined in the discussion and offered a suggestion: "Didn't you and Wood go to Professor McGonagall? If Snape could get a note, she certainly could too."
Speaking of this, Harry was a little discouraged: "Professor McGonagall was unwilling to approve it because Snape had told her in advance that he had asked for her consent... If you ask me, Professor McGonagall is too upright. How could she believe such an absurd excuse as Slytherin needing to change tactics at the last minute and urgently needing special training?"
Ron snorted, "Our dean is always like that, so proper that he's a bit pedantic, which is why we get bullied..."
"Ronald!"
Hermione glared at him, and he quickly shut up and changed the subject: "Well, it's good that you don't have to train. There's a Defense Against the Dark Arts class tomorrow, so you'll have time to finish your homework without having to stay up all night."
Upon hearing this, Harry covered his forehead, looked at his two friends with a troubled expression, and whispered, "I don't want to take Defense Against the Dark Arts class."
"Why?"
"As you know, I've always felt sorry for Quirrell and always thought he was good to me. But it turns out he was the one who cursed me and almost killed me. I... I'm worried I won't be able to control my emotions!"
The three of them had already agreed beforehand not to alert Quirrell, but to secretly monitor him and expose him when he couldn't resist trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
With witnesses and physical evidence readily available, those adults will surely not ignore it any longer.
At this point, it's clearly unacceptable to let Harry alert Quirrell.
Ron, who was always quick-witted when it came to crooked ideas, suggested in a flash, "Why don't you take a sick leave? We'll go find Fred and George, get you a'skip-class candy,' and spray it with three pints of blood. Even if you want to go to class, Mrs. Pomfrey won't allow it."
This suggestion, which Hermione would usually vehemently reject, was now unanimously approved by the trio.
"Speaking of which, what have Fred and George been up to lately? They've been acting all mysterious, not even playing pranks anymore. It feels like something's missing when they're not causing trouble every day."
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I only see them during training."
Hermione replied, "They seem to be researching something, which I think is great. Fred and George have a real talent for alchemy; it's a waste that they've always been so obsessed with pranks."
As they spoke, the three arrived outside the twins' dormitory. The door was tightly closed, and a note was pasted on it:
[A great experiment is underway in this dorm room, please do not disturb!]
Ron scoffed, touching the doorknob as he muttered, "A great experiment? These two are just playing tricks again!"
To Harry and Hermione's astonishment, Ron, who had just touched the doorknob, had his red hair stand on end, convulsed violently, and collapsed to the ground.
The twins are in trouble again!
A third-year student found Vaughn in the library, told him the news, and relayed Professor McGonagall's instructions to have him go to the school hospital immediately.
When Vaughn arrived, before he even entered the room, he heard Professor McGonagall's signature Scottish accent, loudly reprimanding him:
"…You're audacious and lawless, Fred Weasley, George Weasley. I think I've made it very clear to you that you're not allowed to conduct experiments in secret. If you can't remember what I said, then perhaps I should consider using magic to engrave it into your minds!"
"Professor, we didn't do it secretly; we put up warning signs on the door."
"Don't try to change things up, George Weasley. Dormitories are for rest, and any experiment outside of class is..."
"Excuse me, Professor, I am Fred."
"Fred Weasley, I think I've said it before: raise your hand if you have a question. Or do you think you don't need your hand anymore?"
Professor McGonagall's voice was filled with suppressed anger.
Vaughn could almost picture her staring with those sharp eyes, making the twins tremble.
Vaughn coughed and pushed open the door.
The school hospital has recently been almost full of fifth and seventh graders trying to escape their heavy workload.
Everyone's eyes turned to the innermost bed, where Ron lay pale-faced, while Hermione and Harry stood there dumbfounded.
At the foot of the bed, Professor McGonagall, just as Vaughn had imagined, exuded a tremendous aura with her gaunt body. The twins shrank back, dejected, under her blazing gaze.
Hearing the door open, Professor McGonagall turned around and saw Vaughn. Her ashen face softened immediately, and her voice lowered several octaves:
"Mr. Weasley, please come here."
The twins couldn't help but look up, but were immediately scolded by Professor McGonagall: "You two, stand still! Don't move until you admit your mistake!"
The twins grinned, their lips moving silently as if they were muttering something to themselves. Vaughn knew without guessing that they were probably complaining about being treated differently.
It had always been this way since he was a child, and Vaughn was used to it.
With a calm expression, Vaughn nodded to Professor McGonagall, whose demeanor had suddenly softened, then went to the bedside, looked at Ron, and poked him with his finger.
It's rock hard.
"Professor, what happened?"
"Electric shock, Mr. Weasley. Your two older brothers were doing Muggle electrical experiments in their dormitory, and your younger brother, poor Ron Weasley, was struck by a powerful current... Oh, don't worry too much, dear. He's stiff right now because of muscle spasms caused by the current. Madam Pomfrey just gave him a whole bottle of relaxant, and the potion hasn't taken effect yet."
Upon hearing about the electrical experiment, Vaughn couldn't help but look up at the twins.
Professor McGonagall quickly explained the purpose of her meeting with Vaughn:
"This shouldn't have bothered you, but the two Weasleys said that the electrical experiment was an assignment you gave them. Is that true?"
The twins stared intently at Vaughn.
On the other side of the hospital bed, Hermione and Harry also looked up, and even Ron, who was still unconscious, suddenly opened his eyes. It was unclear whether it was due to the relaxant taking effect and the orbicularis oculi muscle relaxing, or whether he was "dying with his eyes open."
Vaughn shook his head without changing his expression: "No, Professor."
The twins' eyes widened, and they cried out in unison, "Professor, he's lying—"
"Shut up, you two!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "You're hopeless! I shouldn't have believed your nonsense. I even dared to hope you had a fraction of Vaughn's honesty. You're both Weasleys, why can't you learn from me?"
The twins looked grief-stricken.
Professor McGonagall ignored them and turned to Vaughn. "Sorry, child, this is none of your business. Go back and get some rest. You've been working yourself to the bone lately."
Ignoring the twins' grief and indignation, Vaughn asked, "Professor, what do you plan to do with these two liars?"
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together, about to say something, when she heard Harry suddenly exclaim from behind her, "Ron!"
The group turned around and saw that Ron, who had been stiff on the hospital bed, was now like a limp lump of dough, his limbs and mouth hanging limply.
Most horrifyingly, his chest began to collapse, and long breaths came out of his nostrils, but he couldn't take in any air.
Harry was terrified; it looked like he was about to die.
But Madam Pomfrey, who rushed over, said these were minor problems: "Don't worry, Harry, the relaxant is working, the muscles supporting his lungs are completely relaxing... Oh, look at his eyes, how wide they are, pupils dilated, he's still dreaming!"
"Professor McGonagall, could you transform me into a trachea? Our little redhead needs a trachea to deliver air to his lungs for the time being. If possible, you should stay a little longer, as we will need your Transfiguration to help with some things later."
Although Mrs. Pomfrey didn't say it explicitly, Vaughn and Professor McGonagall knew what else they needed help with—there are many types of muscles in the human body, one of which is called… the sphincter.
Relaxants are obviously very potent and indiscriminate.
If the muscles that control the lungs relax, then the sphincter muscles probably won't escape it either!
Vaughn didn't want to see that scene, so he took the opportunity to suggest, "Professor, why don't you help treat Ron first? I'll take the two of them back with me. We can talk about any punishments later. Is that alright?"
Professor McGonagall hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement, and sent Hermione away as well: "Miss Granger, it's not a good time for you to stay here. You and Vaughn should go back together... Potter, you stay and help out!"
Vaughn and Hermione hadn't gone far from the school hospital with the twins when they faintly heard screams coming from that direction:
"Merlin—"
"Jesus Christ!"
"Help! I can't breathe!"
In the blink of an eye, several senior students who claimed to be seriously ill and refusing to leave the school hospital came running out screaming and disappeared, lively and energetic.
The twins, who were initially angry and reluctant to go with Vaughn, exchanged a glance and were suddenly relieved that they hadn't stayed behind, and also felt a bit smug.
"Poor little Ronnie, his reputation will spread throughout the whole school tonight."
"That's right, George. Maybe we should give Ronnie a nickname in advance."
"Great suggestion, how about calling it 'Out of Control Warrior'? Or'Spray Hero'?"
The naturally optimistic twins forgot their anger in the blink of an eye.
Forgetting that she had been scolded by Professor McGonagall just moments before, she began to care for her younger brother with great interest.
Hermione finally snapped, yelling, "That's enough! Who caused Ron to be like this?"
"No, no, no, Hermione, we put up warning signs on the door and warned anyone who tried to open it!"
"Yes, Fred, it's clear that little Ronnie has forgotten the dangers of the world, and we, not only were we right, we actually taught little Ronnie a lesson—in the magical world, don't touch things carelessly!"
"Yes, that's really touching, George!"
Hermione: "..."
For the rest of the journey, Hermione ignored Fred and George, afraid of making herself angry to death.
Vaughn didn't say anything either.
He went up to the eighth floor, opened the Requirement Room, and summoned the study he used most often.
Only after closing the door did he look at the twins and ask, "So, you've already figured out a way to solve the problem of the electricity being interfered with by magic?"
The twins, who were looking around with great interest, became animated upon hearing this:
"Of course, such a simple question is no challenge for us!"
"George, remember to be humble. We are standing on the shoulders of giants, there is nothing to be proud of. In fact, the magic radio you provided, Vaughn, has been a great help to us."
"Yes, yes, it's probably about one-eighth of the credit!"
"I said we should be humble, but we can raise it a little higher, to about one-seventh!"
"Alright, considering the alchemical materials provided by Vaughn, we can barely raise the price a little more."
Ignoring the twins' arrogant and infuriating tone, Vaughn opened his satchel, took out the remaining alchemical materials and tools, and handed them to them:
"Show me your thought process and solutions!"
"Ha, George, our dear brother doesn't seem to trust us very much!"
"Then let him see, Fred!"
The twins completely forgot their initial resistance when they accepted the task, and with a lot of laughter, they took the items and were ready to get started with great enthusiasm.
Watching the two begin to sort through the materials and whisper to each other, Hermione leaned closer to Vaughn and asked, "So it really was you who assigned them this task?"
When facing Hermione, Vaughn no longer needed to lie. He said helplessly, "I initially just wanted to distract them so they wouldn't be thinking about playing pranks all the time. In fact, I didn't expect them to succeed so quickly."
Vaughn really hadn't expected the twins to complete the mission so quickly.
He had given them a deadline to finish before the end of summer vacation. He had calculated that deadline, and in his opinion, it was even a bit tight.
As they spoke, the twins had already taken stock of the materials and tools.
Hermione, who was about to ask something, immediately focused her attention. She had never been exposed to alchemy before, and this subject was full of mystery and unknown knowledge to her.
She held onto Vaughn's arm, stood on tiptoe to see better, and asked questions from time to time:
What is that bowl-like thing?
"The magic mortar and pestle is mainly used to grind soft and fragile materials," Vaughn replied. He was always very patient with his girlfriend, even taking the initiative to introduce other tools. "That flask-like thing next to it is called a retort, used to mix or purify liquid materials. The closed metal cylinder is called a calciner, used to process metals…"
Hermione listened with great interest, "So many tools and uses! I didn't know alchemy required so many steps. But some of them seem a bit like potions?"
Vaughn nodded: "Potion making is a branch of alchemy. Hundreds of years ago, alchemists' main job was to brew potions, and they were the ones who developed the earliest potion system."
Upon hearing Vaughn's words, one of the busy twins gave him a thumbs up: "A fair answer, dear brother. Many pharmacists are unwilling to acknowledge this history!"
Hermione asked curiously, "Why?"
Another proudly replied, "Of course it's because alchemy is greater and more inclusive, while potions are singular and narrow. Only someone like Snape would find it aesthetically pleasing to stir something in a pot with a stick!"
Snape gets roasted every day!
Before long, the twins had assembled the tools, set up the boiler, rubbed their hands together, and began to explain their idea with great pride as they started processing the materials:
"Although solving the problem of magic interference with electricity is not particularly challenging, it did stump us a bit at first."
"Just a little bit, George."
"That's right, only a little bit… We discovered that the generation of electricity is actually not the problem. The generator that Vaughn provided us can operate normally. The magical interference only comes into play when the power is input into the line, causing the power to dissipate."
"We spent two days poring over several Muggle books and got a basic understanding of electricity transmission and the forces of electric fields. We discovered that magic doesn't interfere with electrons... Fred, you mean electrons?"
"Yes, George, magic doesn't interfere with electrons, it interferes with electric fields." Fred looked at Vaughn, a seemingly reserved but actually provocative smile on his face: "Our genius brother, do you know what an electric field is?"
Vaughn glanced at him, realizing he'd come to the right person: "Simply put, an electric field is the force between electric charges. Going deeper, it involves quantum electrodynamics and the concept of virtual photons. If you want to understand that, I suggest you study for a few more years!"
Fred: "...Damn it!"
George: "He wasn't stumped at all!"
The two didn't understand at all, and decided not to humiliate themselves any further. They began to explain their discovery to Hermione: "...In short, the flow of electricity is determined by the electric field, and magic interferes with the electric field, which is why electricity fails at Hogwarts."
"Once we find the cause of the problem, the rest will be much easier. Actually, it's not difficult to solve. The electric field is formed in these wires. We just need to find a material, like the insulation layer made by Muggles, to wrap the wires and weaken the magic's effect on them."
As they spoke, Fred and George selected several plants and put them into the mortar. The enchanted pestle and mortar ground them quickly, soon turning them into a gelatinous substance.
Looking at the plant and the ground-up gelatinous substance, Vaughn pondered, "Milk grass..."
"That's right, it's the main material of our newly invented insulation layer... It's actually quite complicated, even though it sounds simple. We tried many materials that could extract the adhesive, and finally found that only it has higher compatibility."
"This is just the first step. Only magic can fight magic. There is no material that can block magic."
"Just like nothing can block gravity!"
"A precise metaphor, George!"
"So we took a different approach. Since we couldn't use magic to fight magic in order to avoid interference with the electric field, we let the magic'slide' smoothly over the wires in the way we wanted, minimizing its interference with the electric field."
As George explained, Fred poured several handfuls of metal powder into the calciner, and after calcining, poured the molten liquid metal into a cup of solution.
Vaughn recognized it as a mercury solution at a glance.
The molten metal fell into the mercury solution after calcination, and gradually 'dissolved' as Fred stirred it. When it finally cooled, a peculiar, golden paste appeared in the cup.
The twins picked up the cup, struck an exaggerated pose, and shouted:
"Ta-da—Mithril Mercury Potion, Weasley's great invention, highly mage-friendly, magic flows through it as smoothly as silk."
"Weasley Professional Guarantee: Absolutely no residue!"
Mercury is a fundamental substance that is introduced in the very first lesson of alchemy.
Because the birth of alchemy is closely related to it.
According to Vaughn's knowledge of the history of alchemy, early alchemy was born because ancient people discovered that mercury could "dissolve" metals.
In that era, no one understood the principle of like dissolves like, and no one could explain the concept of metal atoms "sharing" electron clouds.
Muggles could only regard this amazing phenomenon as magic...
Wizards also believed it to be magic, a wondrous magic without any magical power involved!
As a result, the study of mercury rapidly emerged and was eventually named alchemy. It was named this because wizards and Muggles at the time often used mercury to dissolve gold ore powder and then used the resulting amalgam solution to refine gold. Gold is chemically inert and exists only as an element, making it difficult to react with other elements. Therefore, gold particles in gold ore are generally very small and dispersed.
However, mercury has been phased out in modern times.
On the one hand, through years of research, wizards gradually realized that mercury was not a magical product.
On the other hand, the rapid advancements in Muggle metallurgy and the series of metal trade agreements signed in recent times to appease the goblins have made wizards accustomed to "reaping the benefits without sowing."
The direction of alchemy's development thus changed, and it no longer involved the use of metals—why waste effort on things that can be bought cheaply?
Unexpectedly, something that had been phased out appeared brazenly in the hands of the twins today.
However, Vaughn did not belittle the twins' creativity because of their "renaissance".
He took the cup from the twins, held it up to the light, and carefully examined the peculiar solution inside, saying, "Are you planning to mix this into the insulating layer made of milkweed gum?"
"That's right, look, George, I knew my dear brother would understand our thinking!"
"But he doesn't understand it enough!" George said indignantly.
"Yes, yes, not enough!" Fred raised his eyebrows, every expression seemingly radiating smugness.
Vaughn frowned slightly in thought.
That's right, it's definitely not enough!
Mithril is a magic-friendly metal, but it is neither magic-resistant nor magic-absorbing. Just like Muggles say that metals conduct electricity, without a connection, metals cannot magically attract electricity.
Whether it's magic or science, they share the same logic—objective material conditions need to be designed and planned to achieve the desired effect.
He suddenly remembered the magic radio he had given to the twins. In fact, he had already done some preliminary research on it before giving it to them.
However, due to his limited knowledge of alchemy, Vaughn couldn't figure out how the magic radio solved the problem of magic interfering with electricity.
He only saw some... symbols inside the radio!
Thinking of this, Vaughn looked at the mithril mercury mixture in the cup again and suddenly realized, "It's also the ink you prepared. You're going to use it to outline alchemical symbols in the insulation layer?"
Upon hearing this, and because they had finally stumped their younger brother, the twins, who had been exchanging knowing glances, immediately put on long faces.
"Damn it, he actually guessed it!"
"I think when I go back to summer vacation, I should ask my parents to investigate again. How could Vaughn and Ron be twins? They're like two completely different species!"
The twins were furious and too tired to say anything more. They took back the cup of mithril mercury from Vaughn, grumbled, sat down on the ground, and closed their eyes.
Hermione, who knew nothing about alchemy, looked at the two curiously and asked Vaughn, "What are they doing?"
"They are meditating on symbols."
"Meditation? Symbols?"
"Yes, do you remember what Professor McGonagall said when she taught us Transfiguration? In the eyes of a wizard, all things have a spirit, and this is the key to transforming inanimate objects into living things."
Vaughn slowly said, "Alchemy has a similar view, but alchemical doctrine believes that all things were once a whole, so even though they have differentiated into what they are today, at a higher level, the world and all things still share a common soul called 'ether'."
"'Aether' contains the secrets of creation; it is an ineffable concept, unable to be organized into language or writing, existing only as rudimentary symbols... The core of modern alchemy is alchemical symbols, which can help alchemists create all sorts of magical tools, manipulate magic, travel through space, and reverse time..."
As he spoke, Fred opened his eyes and happened to hear the last sentence. He happily agreed, "That's right, my dear brother, alchemy is indeed so magical, great, and incomparable!"
Hermione, engrossed in taking notes in her notebook, looked up in surprise: "You're done meditating?"
"It's over."
"Where's that... symbol? Draw it for me."
Fred narrowed his eyes, looking inscrutable, and slowly replied in a deep voice, "I can't paint it; it only exists in my heart!"
"..."
Hermione puffed out her cheeks angrily, thinking Fred was up to his old tricks again.
But Vaughn knew Fred wasn't joking. He explained to Hermione, "Alchemical symbols are not language, much less writing. They have no system and no observable, concrete imagery."
"In a sense, it is actually invisible, unreadable, ineffable, and unwritten; it is a concept or enlightenment obtained by the soul's journey through the 'ether'."
Hermione was completely bewildered; this was somewhat beyond her comprehension.
After frowning for a while, the girl scratched her hair and looked at Vaughn in confusion: "You mean, it doesn't exist? But you said before that it was a rudimentary graphic... It feels so contradictory."
"No, it's not a contradiction. It actually exists, right there in Fred's soul, or you could say it doesn't exist because you can't see it."
"...How did you know?"
Vaughn didn't answer, he just smiled.
Why does alchemy require talent? Because without talent, one cannot not only understand basic concepts, but even make observations.
At this moment, perhaps in Hermione's eyes, Fred and George were still the same as they always were, but in Vaughn's eyes, they were shining brightly—
As the meditation ended, numerous tiny points of light appeared within the twins' bodies, merging together and enveloping their forms in a soft glow, as if draping the twins in a veil woven from stars.
The "veil" was perfectly round, appearing both real and illusory.
This "circle" is the symbol that the twins brought back from the ether.
Vaughn's understanding of alchemy was limited to this; in alchemy, a circle could represent many things.
In the introductory books on alchemy that Vaughn had read, alchemy, which had developed over thousands of years, had a total of 53 symbols.
Eleven of them are considered to be the basic framework of the world.
They represent four elements and seven metals (gold, silver, iron, mercury, tin, copper, and lead).
They are constant and have a definite meaning in any school of alchemy.
In other words, in addition to these 11 basic symbols, alchemists have used the remaining 42 symbols over thousands of years to explain and represent the changing relationships between all things and them.
Therefore, in alchemy, each of the 42 symbols has a wide range of meanings.
As the discipline of magic that is closest to Muggle technology, alchemy is essentially more idealistic than magic. At least magic cannot create things out of thin air (magic cannot conjure food or any substance out of thin air; summoning spells and other incantations are essentially transferring objects from other places).
Alchemy, however, can.
Therefore, no knowledge in this discipline can be shown to the outside world. Fred said he couldn't draw the symbol, not because he couldn't draw the circle, but because it was meaningless.
Not only could Hermione not see the symbols he drew, but the meaning of the symbols could not be fully expressed through graphics.
Just as Vaughn could see it at this moment, but he had no idea what the "circle" Fred and George obtained from the ether actually represented.
He was, after all, still a novice alchemist.
Before long, George also woke up from his meditation, and the twins did not delay any longer and immediately began to work.
Fred took out his wand, chanted a spell, and drew it in the air a few times. Under the control of magic, the milkweed juice that had been ground in the mortar quickly released water and solidified into a milky white gel.