Chapter 117 Time Converter
Amidst the roar of his brain, Ron seemed to return to a few months ago, to the hazy images of his past self reflected in those memories.
In the scene, he flicked a small dragon's head with his finger, and in the face of the dragon's anger, he and Harry laughed happily.
Beside him were Vaughn's words of dissuasion:
"...Dragons hold grudges very much..."
And then there was Malfoy's annoying, yet now seemingly sincere, warning:
"If I were you, I would never try to provoke such a monster..."
What were their responses at the time?
"We're going to send it away anyway, so let it come back to Hogwarts and seek revenge if it dares to!"
As Ron's consciousness was gradually engulfed by blankness, he suddenly wished that time could go back to the past, or that he could delve into his memories and grab his past self from a few months ago to give Harry a good beating!
Two idiots!
In his final moments, Ron heard Nobeta let out a loud "ga ga ga" sound, a sound filled with the exhilarating and satisfying satisfaction of finally getting revenge...
...
The forest in the painting looks a lot like the Forbidden Forest.
The tall trees, the deep shade of the forest, and the moisture exhaled by the dense plants were as thick as the fog on a morning before rain, covering the body heavily, and in the blink of an eye, the clothes were half wet.
Of course, there are also differences.
For example, in this forest, the water mist will not dissipate. No matter how intense the sun becomes over time, it seems unable to evaporate the moisture in the forest, let alone send it into the atmospheric circulation to participate in the natural cycle.
Ultimately, this is just a "painting," subject to the creator's will. The creator likes the misty forest, so it will remain in this state.
Moreover, there are no animals here.
Hermione had explored the Forbidden Forest several times, and her impression of it was not just that it was a vast, dark woodland, but that there was also a vibrant side to life beneath the shadows cast by the dense trees.
Birdsong, insect chirps, animal roars, and the rustling of swaying bushes... In a true natural forest, the sounds of life are like a never-ending symphony.
In the world depicted in the painting, it truly is just a scene frozen in time!
Splash—
The bushes not far away swayed a few times, and Hermione, who was squatting on the ground, absentmindedly poking at the grass with her wand, immediately raised the tip of her wand and pointed it over.
"It's me!"
The bushes parted, and Harry, soaked to the bone by the mist and covered in dry twigs and leaves, looked disheveled and dejected.
His shoulder-length hair was plastered messily to his forehead, and his glasses were no longer recognizable. He spread his empty hands and said in a muffled voice, "I couldn't find anything to eat."
Hermione lowered her wand and comforted her, "If we don't find it, so be it. This place is probably just a 'painting,' and even if we do find it, we're not sure if it's edible."
Harry nodded, then sat down opposite her, staring blankly at his feet.
The two had been away from Chessboard Town for an unknown amount of time. In modern society, without clocks, people seem to have forgotten how to keep track of time. Even if the movement of the sun in the sky can be used as a reference, it is not real and its use for keeping time is questionable.
After confirming that Hermione was unharmed in Checkerboard Town and having a good cry for Ron, Harry became quiet and withdrawn.
He silently led Hermione through the woods, tracking Quirrell's trail.
As the sun began to set, they found the spot where Quirrell had fallen, but all that remained were charred trees struck by lightning; Quirrell was long gone.
The good news is that Hermione found the wreckage of her flying broom and Quirrell's lost potion bottle nearby.
After a moment of blankness, Harry took out the potion bottle Hermione had found from his pocket, fiddled with it for a moment, and muttered, "He can't use magic, and he doesn't have a flying broom. Where did he go?"
Even in his murmurs, there was an undeniable anger and hatred in his voice.
Hermione glanced at him worriedly, unsure how to comfort him, even though she knew that this place was created by Dumbledore and Vaughn, and that their entry into it was also facilitated by Dumbledore and Vaughn.
Emotionally, Hermione felt that Ron might not be dead, and that Vaughn would never harm his own brother.
But rationally she also knew that this place was, after all, a mechanism guarding the Philosopher's Stone, and it was perfectly normal for it to be lethal and dangerous.
The girl, who had read all sorts of books and notes, knew very well how dangerous magic could be.
In the magical world, accidents caused by magic are commonplace.
No wizard dares to guarantee that everything is under control.
What if... what if Ron's ordeal was just an accident?
So until now, Hermione hasn't dared to tell Harry her suspicions. She's afraid that Harry, immersed in sadness and anger, will become extreme and take his anger out on Dumbledore and Vaughn.
Hermione's mind raced with thoughts. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look away: "Still no trace of Quirrell?"
Harry shook his head.
"The damage caused by lightning must be severe." Hermione analyzed, glancing at the bottle in Harry's hand. "Remember what Ferrenze said? Quirrell used unicorn blood to make potions to prolong Voldemort's life. The bottle in your hand contains unicorn blood."
"That's a potion belonging to the mysterious man, but Quirrell used it to heal himself. This shows that he has been driven to the brink. I think that instead of blindly searching for him in the forest, we should force him to come to us!"
Harry, who had been silent all along, finally looked up: "You mean?"
Hermione looked ahead, the lush forest obscuring her view, but both she and Harry knew that direction led to their final destination in the world of the painting—the castle!
In the narration, it is the lair of the evil fire dragon and the final level!
After gazing in that direction for a moment, Harry put away the bottle and nodded emphatically: "Let's go to the castle!"
His expression was brave and resolute, which made Hermione feel somewhat unfamiliar with him.
The Harry of the past was actually a very impulsive person.
Impulsiveness is not courage, but recklessness. In the past, he would be afraid, lazy, and hesitant. Only when faced with difficult choices would he blindly rush forward—such behavior without considering the consequences is essentially a form of escapism.
But Harry is completely different at this moment.
Hermione could sense that he was still consumed by grief, anger, and hatred, but when he nodded emphatically, his mind was clear; he understood what she meant and quickly grasped the key points.
The castle is the final level in the painted world, and it is very likely that it holds the Philosopher's Stone. Once they reach the castle and open the final level, Quirrell will have no choice but to reveal himself.
Otherwise, his plan to steal the Philosopher's Stone would have failed completely!
Ron's death made Harry mature, but at a price...
Hermione recalled what Ferrenze had said about Harry and Voldemort's intertwined fate, and suddenly felt a pang of sadness in her heart—
For Ron's uncertain fate, for Harry's future, and for the cruelty of destiny!
The girl reached into her pocket and took out the "Wishing Pen," a reward she had received from the fairytale town.
[Wishing Brush: A magical brush used in the world of paintings. When you make a wish upon it with sincere faith, it can draw whatever you desire!]
[Number of uses: 1/3]
The Wishing Brush can only be used 3 times. It was used once at first to draw a flying broom, but it was stolen by Quirrell. They left Chessboard Town, and in order to track Quirrell, they had to use it again to draw a new one.
Before the fierce conflict in Chessboard Town, Hermione thought she would never need this reward item again.
But now, her opinion has changed.
"Dumbledore, Vaughn... what do you want me to draw with it?"
The girl felt lost.
Hermione!
Hermione snapped out of her daze. Not far away, Harry was already on his broomstick, looking back at her: "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing." Hermione shook her head, jogged over, carefully climbed onto the back of the broom, lay down, and hugged it—the broom couldn't carry two people, and if she weren't so light, it might not even be able to fly.
Harry was puzzled, but he didn't think much of it. Once Hermione was lying down, he pulled the handle and soared into the air!
When walking in the forest, you feel that the forest is so vast that it seems to have no end.
However, once you break free from these barriers, and with the ubiquitous trees and terrain no longer obstructing your path, what seems like a long distance can actually be covered very quickly.
The broom drawn by the wishing pen is Harry's most familiar Nimbus 2000. This broom has a top speed of about 300 km/h, which is 83 meters per second.
Riding it at breakneck speed in the air is undoubtedly not a pleasant experience; at such high speeds, even the gentle breeze feels like knives on your face.
But Harry couldn't care less about that at that moment.
He just wanted to get to his destination as quickly as possible, get the Philosopher's Stone, or kill Quirrell!
The castle is located in a rift valley at the end of the forest. Its style is somewhat similar to Hogwarts Castle. The main body sits on the top of a towering cliff at the end, and a long covered bridge spans the rift valley, connecting it to the forest.
After flying for an unknown amount of time, Harry's face was red from the friction of the air, as if he had been exposed to the sun for a long time. He then began to press down on the handle from a distance.
Hermione, who had been holding onto the broom's tail and burying her head in her arms, sensed the slowdown and asked loudly, "Are we there yet?"
After waiting for a while without receiving a reply from Harry, Hermione had no choice but to raise her head slightly. The strong wind that rushed towards her blurred her vision, but she could still see a majestic castle standing in front of her.
The covered bridge extending from the castle to this side is straight and steep, with tall stone statues silently guarding both sides of the bridge.
Hermione noticed that Harry, who had been silent, was still flying in that direction, and in an instant, the two of them had quickly approached the top of the covered bridge.
"Harry?"
Hermione shouted.
Just then, the long-silent narration resounded between heaven and earth, in their ears:
"You and your companions have overcome countless dangers and finally arrived at the castle of the evil fire dragon. Now, heroes, charge towards the castle, defeat the fire dragon, and rescue the princess..."
"Hmph! Hermione, hold on tight!"
Harry, who had been silent all along, finally spoke up. He pulled the handle again, and the broom, which had started to slow down, sped up to its limit again. The sudden acceleration almost made Hermione slip.
But what terrified her even more was...
As the narration from the sky began, the stone statues guarding both sides of the covered bridge slowly stood up.
They looked up and turned their heads.
With a clattering sound, they pulled their spears from the stone bricks and raised them!
The next moment.
Buzz—
Something high-speed whistled and vibrated as it whizzed past her. Before Hermione could react, she heard Harry curse "Damn it!" and then she slammed her broom down and swooped down to the ground.
It was only then that Hermione realized that the high-speed object that had just brushed past her was a weapon thrown by the statue.
She strained to look in that direction, and what she saw confirmed her guess!
The girl's brown pupils, blurred by the airflow, reflected a terrifying scene—countless stone statues in front of her were hurling their spears, which appeared as tiny as hairs in the first blink.
In the blink of an eye, it was already overwhelming, like thick clouds!
Woohoo—
The whooshing sound of objects tearing through the air came from afar, like a swarm of bees, but in reality, it felt like a catastrophic natural disaster. Goosebumps, aroused by fear, spread across Hermione's arms.
Harry, whose dynamic vision was better than hers and who discovered it earlier, naturally also saw that scene.
He pressed his lips tightly together, trying to keep the broom low as it continued its downward sweep, while at the same time, he silently uttered a word:
"Regina (Queen)!"
A strange dialog box unfolded before his eyes, visible to both him and Hermione; it contained a description:
[Queen: The reward Harry Potter received for winning the endgame in Chessboard Town can only be used in the Painted World. Child, the Queen has witnessed your pain and your growth. When danger arises, call her name: Regina!]
[Number of uses: 4/5]
As Harry pronounced the word, the "4" in the usage count column flashed and changed to "3".
At the same time, the sky darkened, not because the spears projected by the stone statues were too numerous or too dense, but because this painted world was responding to the re-arrival of a powerful spell.
Countless gray streams of air emerged from the void, like draped veils, covering Harry, turning his skin grayish-white, and causing his size to increase dramatically!
In the blink of an eye, the tall yet elegant queen stood in mid-air, but the sudden surge in mass caused her to plummet the moment she took shape.
And all of this was part of Harry's plan.
A tremendous external force filled Harry's body, giving him the confidence that he could destroy the world with a single move. Harry knew that it was just an illusion.
But the power that fills my body at this moment is real.
It was so powerful that everything he saw appeared to be in slow motion.
Ahead, a spear flew over first, and he could see it spinning rapidly, creating vortexes as it pierced through the air. The ripple-like patterns formed a wave-like trail at the spear's tail, circling and reflecting a dazzling light.
Harry held out his hand.
The air was thick and heavy. Having experienced it once before, he knew that it was because he was going too fast, and the air was creating resistance.
But that's all!
The surge of power in the "Queen" form easily ignored the slight resistance. A burst of air erupted between the stone fingers. Harry grabbed the spear, while turning around to catch Hermione and the flying broom as they fell. Watching the girl in slow motion, he struggled to climb onto the broom.
"Be careful—while I—deal—with—them!"
Harry spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice drawn out in a somewhat comical tone.
He did it on purpose. The enhancement brought by the "Queen" form is all-encompassing, not just physical speed, but also thinking, vision, vocal cord vibration, and so on.
If he doesn't deliberately draw out his intonation when he speaks, the syllables he makes will blend together, and to outsiders it will sound like he's shouting.
This is based on experience gained from the last upgrade.
At that moment, Hermione clearly heard Harry's words; of course, in her actual perception, everything happened very quickly.
She heard Harry say "Queen," and then her body sank. The feeling of falling and weightlessness had barely registered in her mind when she was caught.
By the time Hermione managed to climb onto the broom, her chaotic thoughts calmed down, and she began to think about what Harry had said, all she could hear was the deafening roar.
Ahead, the "Queen's" figure disappeared and then reappeared.
It was the afterimage left in our vision by high-speed movement, accompanied by a long, whistling sound as the air was torn apart...
Hermione couldn't tell what kind of voice it was.
Her ears felt like they had gone deaf; the turbulent air from the disturbance hit her head, ruffling her long hair and making it almost impossible for her to open her eyes.
From a limited field of vision, one could only see the densely packed spears falling down, being blasted away in large swathes as the "Queen" flashed by.
It's safe now.
Thinking it over, she tried to control the flying broom, slowed down, and landed. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she felt a violent tremor.
Hermione stumbled a few steps, dragging her broom, and when she looked back, she saw in the distance the covered bridge that stretched all the way from the castle to the edge of the forest, where Harry's "Queen" had fallen like a cannonball.
boom--
Soil and gravel were blasted into the air by the powerful shockwave.
At the same time, a fleeting white shockwave appeared—it was the air torn apart by the Queen's high-speed movement, like a charging arrow, crashing into the stone statues guarding the bridge who were running heavily towards it!
...
"No skill, just brute force!"
Looking down at Harry, who had ascended to the position of "Queen" and was now dominating the battlefield, Vaughn commented expressionlessly.
The situation on the battlefield below is even clearer when viewed from the air.
Vaughn and Dumbledore could clearly see Harry rush onto the bridge, clumsily and chaotically waving two stolen spears in his hands.
It looks really ugly.
However, with the support of Transfiguration and the magical impetus of the entire picture world, even though Harry had never been in a fight, and even though his punches and kicks lacked any close-combat technique and were not even comparable to street boxing, he was still able to fight.
But he is fast enough, strong enough, and has sharp enough dynamic vision!
Each swing of the spear was so fast that it left a trail of afterimages. With each strike, a stone statue guard could not withstand the immense force, and its arm or body was smashed into pieces!
Like Vaughn, Dumbledore, whose eyes gleamed with a deep blue light, closely observed the magical effects on Harry: "But he's trying to learn, have you noticed? Harry has realized that Ascension is a Transfiguration spell, and he's sensing that his magic is resisting it. He's forcing his magic to accept this change!"
"He's growing, Vaughn!"
Vaughn remained noncommittal: "This kind of growth is fake. You use Ron's 'death' to stimulate his potential, but the magical knowledge he acquires doesn't come out of thin air. Even if Harry eventually masters the 'Queen' form, what's the point?"
He always felt that Dumbledore's trial plan was unnecessary.
However, Dumbledore clearly didn't see it that way: "Of course it makes sense. The 'Queen' is indeed a fiction, but the experience and mindset of facing battle and going through the battlefield are real. The growth I expect is not about Harry mastering some great power, but about completing a transformation on a spiritual level."
Looking down at Harry, who was fighting bravely without showing any fear, Vaughn said nothing more.
After a long while, he suddenly shifted his gaze to the forest: "Quirok is here!"
"Yes, the grand finale is about to begin."
Dumbledore sighed, extended his aged, ringed hand, and said, "Give me the key; I need it to see something."
With Vaughn's involvement, the trial plan was completely different from the original one.
Dumbledore's conception of the functions of government agencies remained at the level of traditional child's play.
In comparison, Vaughn's imagination was much more boundless.
Fairy tale castles and worlds in paintings are still just experiments. The experiment is about what conditions are needed to create a "world".
At the same time, the formation of the "world" also has more research value from different perspectives.
For example, it is difficult to interfere with the real world through higher-dimensional means, which makes it difficult to observe many phenomena. So, would it be easier if we had a "small world" that we could control?
The essence of the world or the universe can be vast, inexhaustible, and inexplicable, but it can also be very "simple".
Time, space, and energy (matter) can basically summarize the cycle of birth, death, and operation of all things within these three concepts.
Including some ethereal things, such as fate!
Vaughn looked away and glanced at Old Deng: "You've accomplished what I envisioned?"
A few months ago, when he first helped Dumbledore design a level, Vaughn had an idea—fate may not be unobservable. If one could completely control a world, every disturbance of the wind and every jump of a photon in that world would be within one's grasp.
So, is it possible to indirectly capture traces of fate through the circulation of energy?
This idea was one of his many imaginings, and he hadn't paid much attention to it at the time. It wasn't until Dumbledore suddenly said that he wanted to use the key to the world in the painting to see something that he suddenly remembered it.
What else, besides fate, requires a legendary wizard to see through a "world"?
Sure enough, upon hearing Vaughn's question, Dumbledore smiled and said, "It's not quite a success yet, just a little easier than in reality. Your thinking seems to be on the right track, my dear."
Vaughn blinked, handed the key to Dumbledore, and asked simply, "Does fate exert an influence on things, acting on energy?"
"Not only that, there's also time!"
As he spoke, Dumbledore unfurled the scroll-like key, which unfolded before the two of them and condensed into a cloud of smoke.
The smoke was so thin that you could even vaguely see the scene below through it.
Dumbledore stared at the smoke, silently chanting a spell, controlling it to writhe, deform, and extend in the air, gradually forming a huge curtain.
He didn't stop until a huge, thin curtain of smoke covered the entire sky.
Completing this spell seemed to have consumed a lot of his magical power; his aged face turned paler, revealing an unhealthy complexion.
Dumbledore took a breath and looked down at the castle and the covered bridge: "Next, we just have to wait for Quirinus. There's still time."
"Hmm—"
Vaughn's gleaming eyes revealed keen interest as he followed Old Deng's gaze and said, "I'd also like to see what time looks like in this 'painting world'... Have you done any experiments before?"
"No, my dear, those alchemical artifacts are very difficult to make, and there aren't many left in the world."
"So what do you think it will do?"
Dumbledore paused for a moment, then said, "I hope it's not like what you're describing!"
What exactly is the state of time?
Or, to be more precise, does the event evolve linearly over time, or does it continuously diverge?
Past lives and present lives are discussed in many fantasy works that Vaughn has read, the most famous of which is the parallel universe theory.
Different processes or decisions regarding the same event will produce different consequences, and all possible consequences are like forking paths in a garden, leading to their own independent times and spaces.
But all of that is ultimately just Muggle theory and fantasy, because Muggles cannot truly travel through time and go back to the past, so they cannot disprove the existence of parallel universes.
In the magical world, time travel is something many wizards know about.
Time converter!
These alchemical items, controlled by the Ministry of Magic, should be considered the second greatest miracle in alchemy after the Philosopher's Stone.
The reason it's ranked below the Philosopher's Stone is because its effects are truly indescribable.
A time-traveling device can indeed allow people to travel through time and go back to the past, but the act itself seems meaningless.
Those who travel back in time cannot change the past; no matter how hard they try, they will only get the same result.
It's as if some force in reality is constraining the "timeline," causing events to unfold according to a predetermined path.
Not even the slightest deviation is allowed!
Vaughn had thought about the time-twister problem long ago. Although he couldn't access this alchemical artifact, Bill had used it.
Dumbledore had little knowledge of time. Throughout his life, he had been curious about and challenged many things, but time and fate were the only things he always approached with caution and dared not touch lightly.
It's not about fearing time and fate itself, but rather based on a certain sense of gain and loss—what if you can't make things better by changing time and fate?
After a moment of silence, Dumbledore asked, "Vaughn, you said you once asked Bill to do an experiment for you, what was it?"
"It was a very small experiment," Vaughn said. "I broke a vase and asked him to go back in time and use every means at his disposal to stop me from breaking it."
Dumbledore frowned. Without asking any further questions, he knew what the final outcome would be—the vase would definitely break!
Sure enough, Vaughn continued, "He tried sending letters, asking Professor McGonagall to let him go home with Floo Powder, or asking Mom and Dad to come home and take the vase... but no matter what he did, when I picked up the vase and smashed it on the ground, his obstruction did not happen to me."
He looked at Dumbledore and continued, "From my perspective, I broke the vase at noon, and only received the letter from Zhu Weiqiong that afternoon because I had only bought it a short time ago and it had gotten lost."
"That evening at dinner, we received news that Bill had been put in solitary confinement. Only then did Mom and Dad remember that Bill had asked them to come home that morning to help get some things, but they were too busy that day and forgot about it."
"As for Bill himself, he used the Time-Turner to go back to noon during dinner and asked Professor McGonagall to let him use the fireplace in her office to go home. However, Professor McGonagall discovered that he was abusing the Time-Turner because she had just seen him going to his divination class before she returned to her office..."
"He could only find an excuse to escape. He ran away for six hours, but by dinner time he was so hungry that he couldn't stand it anymore. He tried to remind his other self not to go to Professor McGonagall, but as soon as he entered the dining room, the professor caught him, put him in solitary confinement, and used the fireplace to notify his parents."
"At that moment, another version of himself had just left the restaurant and was turning on the time converter in the restroom, returning to six hours earlier."
At this point, Vaughn smiled and said, "Albus, isn't that interesting?"
"Hmm..."
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, and after a moment, he commented, "The whole thing is like a cycle."
"Yes, it has a strong sense of fatalism," Vaughn said calmly. "In the view of fatalism, the past, present, and future are all planned by fate, so what happened in the past cannot be changed. Even if you travel to the past, you are just following the predetermined path to complete your destiny."
"Just like that experiment, 'Vaughn smashing the vase' is a fact that has already happened for Bill six hours later. Even if he went back six hours and wanted to change it, all sorts of unexpected events would hinder him and ensure that 'Vaughn smashing the vase' would proceed normally."
Dumbledore remained silent.
In his mind, this phenomenon was not strange at all. Although he had never studied time, the Ministry of Magic had conducted many experiments on time throughout history.
This is obvious.
Wizards revere fate, but that doesn't mean they are willing to accept its arrangements. Everyone has some unfortunate experiences in their lives that they want to undo or change.
Fate cannot be measured, but time can.
Traveling back in time is undoubtedly the most likely way to change one's destiny in the magical world.
Unfortunately, countless experiments failed.
The most famous of these was the time travel experiment conducted in 1899 by a mutated man named Eloise Mintab.
In her experiment to travel back in time, she was trapped in 1402 for five days.
Although Eloise died of old age soon after her return due to her body being five centuries older, her experiments thrilled the entire wizarding world.
Because during those five days, Eloise successfully interfered with time, so that Tuesday after her return to the modern world lasted for two and a half days, while Thursday became four hours.
The wizards seemed to see a glimmer of hope in escaping their fate.
Chapter 118 The Observer and Fate
Until a prophet divined Eloise's time travel.
Divination is a power far more mysterious than magic, and the prophet's divination was disheartening—he divined that the Mintabu family should have 25 more descendants than they do now.
However, the reality of history is that the Mintabu family has no trace of those 25 people in the past 500 years; they were never born!
This means that the Eloise incident was predetermined from the very beginning, including the changes in time after her return!
Although the Eloise incident was an accident, its impact was far-reaching. It was the first documented case of time travel in the magical world that spanned hundreds of years.
This was also the first time that wizards widely came to understand that time travel was not the answer to destiny, and that in the cycle of fate, time travel itself was part of destiny.
But Dumbledore knew that Vaughn did not believe in fate!
Sure enough, in the silence, he heard Vaughn say, "...It's a very interesting phenomenon. Time is like a circle folded from a line, and all of us, all events, are always moving in circles inside the circle...But I have a question: has it always been like this from the beginning?"
"A few years ago, I read a theory by a Soviet physicist in a Muggle magazine called the Novikov principle of self-consistency!"
"This theory was created to oppose parallel universes and parallel timelines. Its basic principle is very simple: time and space are unique and the past cannot be changed."
"But what's interesting is that it doesn't prohibit the existence of time travelers, and it believes that there have been many, many time travelers throughout our long history. It doesn't even prohibit time travelers from interfering with history!"
Upon hearing this, Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder, "This seems somewhat contradictory?"
"No, it's not contradictory." Vaughn shook his head: "To summarize that theory simply, it can be summarized in two points: 1. The past we experience is already the past after it has been altered by time travelers."
"2. The outcome we have reached, whether good or bad, is the final result of interference by time travelers!"
"Things do indeed have countless possibilities, but just like in quantum mechanics, when we, as observers, observe a particle and cause it to collapse, what we ultimately see before us is only one of countless possibilities... and that one and only possibility is reality!"
"..."
Dumbledore paused, stroking his beard. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't. Only the pounding in his heart reminded him of his shock!
He could tell that behind the so-called "Novikov self-consistency principle" theory was a concept that Vaughn had vaguely raised a few months earlier when he and Vaughn were conceiving the world in the painting!
That's a hypothesis, a hypothesis that long ago, the past, present, and future of the real world could all be changed.
Until one day, the "observer" appeared, and its interference caused all the uncertain possibilities of things to begin to collapse into "uniqueness," and eventually became the reality we see today, a reality that can no longer be changed.
So the question is, who is the "observer"?
Just thinking about this problem fills one with uncontrollable fear.
Even a legendary wizard like Dumbledore couldn't imagine what kind of power could accomplish such a thing.
In fact, no one could have imagined it.
That's why Vaughn came up with the idea of creating a small world.
He uses a newly created, "simple" world to test his thoughts on time, fate, and the observer.
Looking at the smoke screen beneath his feet, formed from the key and now covering the sky under his magic, Dumbledore hesitated.
He suddenly felt a sense of fear. What if... what if Vaughn's theory was right?
Seemingly noticing his hesitation, Vaughn, who had been waiting for a moment, suggested, "How about I take over?"
He was met with a long silence.
After a long while, Dumbledore finally breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head: "No need. Although I am old and no longer have the ambition of my youth, even the oldest lion has the courage to face the truth."
However, despite saying that, he still drew his wand, tapped it on his forehead, and pulled out a strand of silver from his mind.
"This memory contains the method to control the key."
With a wave of his hand, the silver thread floated over. Vaughn didn't catch it, but instead used his wand to catch it—he hadn't forgotten that Dumbledore was a master of memory magic, and it was not a wise choice to rashly access the memories released by a master of memory magic.
Seeing Vaughn's caution, Dumbledore didn't seem to mind.
He walked to the edge of the magic carpet, took a light step, and stepped into the void. The light air beneath his feet felt as solid as the ground, supporting him as he walked further and further.
Gradually, he approached the smoke curtain that covered the sky.
The moment he got close, a powerful surge of magical energy emanated from him, distorting the air and light around him.
They were shrouded in a misty haze, tinged with a faint silvery white, their magic imperceptible—an anomaly created by magic interfering with reality.
Then, Dumbledore stirred his wand into the smoke.
In an instant, the entire sky lit up, and countless dense symbols appeared from the void, like a galaxy, tracing arcs across the sky.
That is the world responding to the call of its creator!
On the magic carpet, Vaughn, who was using memory magic to decipher the silver thread, suddenly looked up and felt a ripple sweep over him, and over the entire "world"!
Every wisp of wind, every air molecule, even every photon, every tiny energy level transition, seems to fall under the control of some higher being the moment the ripples pass by.
At this moment, everything was brought under control.
Vaughn knew that from now on, this "world" would no longer be in a state of disorder; it would revolve around a will to achieve the results that will desired!
How wonderful...
Just like fate!
...
call out--
A sharp whistling sound, like a shell flying overhead, swept overhead. The next instant, a deafening roar erupted, sending dust flying everywhere. A sycamore tree nearby fell with a mournful cry.
Hermione, who was about to dodge in that direction, quickly pulled the handle of her flying broom. The broom sped over overhead, and below, the dust kicked up by the explosion rained down like a storm. The lush canopy of the sycamore tree crashed to the ground, making a crackling sound as it snapped.
Dust, flying wood chips, vibrations, and more, the howling and bombardment of objects hurtling towards us at high speed.
Everything around me was so terrible and chaotic, it felt like the end of the world had arrived!
Hermione dared not linger. In the distance, Harry stood blocking the bridge, swinging his spear and smashing the stone guardian statues one by one.
The spear in his hand quickly broke, so he picked up the severed limbs of the stone statues to use as weapons.
But he was alone, while the stone guards seemed endless. Even with his best efforts, he could only stop a small portion of those around him. Further away, even more stone guards were hurling weapons at Hermione, bombarding her relentlessly.
run!
Run as far as possible!
Riding her broom, Hermione narrowly escaped repeated bombardments without panicking. She calmly maneuvered the broom, constantly moving away from the covered bridge.
This was certainly not an escape; Hermione knew very well that she was now a burden to Harry.
The best thing she can do for Harry is to stay far away!
Woohoo—
Not far after flying away, Hermione heard a series of sharp phoenix cries, the sound of a high-speed spear almost grazing past her.
The whistling and the pressure changes caused by the violent air vibrations made her ears ring.
She quickly raised her hand and sped upwards, the spear trailing a white tail as it flew past her feet and crashed far into the forest.
Smoke and dust rose, and the sound of trees breaking could be heard from afar.
Thankfully, Hermione reacted quickly enough. As she flew upwards at an angle, she noticed that the sky had darkened, turning from a deep blue to a leaden gray.
It was like being shrouded in smoke!
"when?"
A question arose in her mind, but she didn't have time to think about it. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that several more "white lines" were rapidly approaching in the distance.
In the blink of an eye, they were right in front of us, and a thunderous sound filled our ears.
Without flinching, Hermione remained calm and anticipated their trajectory, gently turning the handle.
If nothing unexpected happens, she will, like before, bypass them and continue trying to get away from Harry.
But then, an unexpected incident occurred!
Perhaps it was just a gust of wind that disturbed things.
Perhaps it was a sudden change in the air vortex.
Just as Hermione was anticipating the trajectory and trying to avoid the flight paths of the spears, the spear closest to her suddenly deflected by a slight arc.
It's just a tiny angle.
But at the terrifying speed of the spear, even the slightest change will be rapidly amplified.
The spear suddenly drew an arc, and before Hermione, who was adjusting her broom, could react, she heard a snap.
A violent jolt ran beneath my feet!
The next second, her mind went completely blank as she realized that the broom had been hit and gone out of control!
"ah--"
With a piercing scream, Hermione was carried away by the out-of-control broom, hurtling towards the covered bridge she was trying to escape.
Everything looks like an "accident," and if we were to review it in hindsight, we would certainly attribute the sudden turn of the spear to an accident.
Because those directly involved, even if they have doubts, cannot perceive anything unusual.
No one would believe that someone's will could make everything in this "world" revolve around him, and that he needed Hermione back with Harry.
And so the world responded to his will!
This interference occurs naturally.
High in the air, Vaughn stared intently down until the broom, its tail billowing smoke and moving erratically, miraculously brought Hermione back to Harry's vicinity, at which point he breathed a slight sigh of relief.
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of Granger."
A faint whisper, like the sound of the wind, reached my ears.
"Albus?" Vaughn raised an eyebrow slightly. He could clearly see that Dumbledore was still in the smoke below.
"It's me."
"What state are you in right now? Is your consciousness encompassing this world? Or has this world become a part of your consciousness?"
"It's hard to describe... I think you'd better experience it for yourself later."
Vaughn was somewhat interested in this, but it was clearly not the time to talk about it now, because through the hazy vision shrouded in smoke, he saw that the situation on the other side of the covered bridge had changed again with Hermione's return.
"We'll talk about the experience later, Harry's in trouble!"
...
Let's go back a few dozen seconds.
Harry's heart is once again put to a terrifying test.
When he was in the middle of the battle, he suddenly saw Hermione, who should have flown far away to find a place to hide, being carried back by an out-of-control broom.
His heart was in his throat.
Hermione!
Hermione screamed as she flew past him, and in his slow-motion view of everything around him, he could clearly see the tears streaming down her face.
Harry reached out, trying to grab her.
In the heat of battle, such a move would have been inappropriate. Taking advantage of the opportunity, a stone guard pounced on the "Queen" and locked her arm.
Thus, the mistake immediately escalated into a devastating disaster—
Taking advantage of the moment when Harry's attack methods were greatly reduced due to one arm being locked, several more stone guards pounced on him.
Then, more and more!
In the blink of an eye, Harry's vision was filled with the bare faces of the stone guards. Their terrifying weight was too much for even the Queen's strength to bear, leaving him unable to move.
He desperately tried to break free and save Hermione, but could only watch helplessly as the broom, trailing black smoke, carried her into the covered bridge!
Like a tiny drop of water falling into the sea, it is submerged among the densely packed stone statues.
Harry couldn't quite describe his feelings at that moment; his mind went blank, and his thoughts seemed to have stopped.
This is the second time he's experienced something like this today; the first time was with Ron...
hateful!
The boy's inner turmoil was about to erupt. He suddenly regretted why he had acted like a hero today. Why had he entered the mechanism guarding the magic stone?
If it weren't for his arrogance, his stubbornness, and his conceit...
Ron won't die, and neither will Hermione...
The Queen's towering figure stood motionless on the covered bridge, while countless stone statues guarded her one after another, completely engulfing the boy who was drowning in pain!
...
"Ah—my test is over!"
Dumbledore's soft sigh echoed in Vaughn's ears.
"Harry finally understands the consequences of his recklessness, and I believe he will remember the pain he feels for the rest of his life."
"I don't expect this child to become a calm and wise person from now on, but I hope that when he encounters similar situations in the future, he will consider things more carefully, think more deeply, and consider whether he can bear the consequences of failure..."
Vaughn listened quietly to his rambling. Although he still disagreed with his so-called test, Vaughn had to admit that for a 12-year-old boy, "killing" two friends in a row was indeed a profound lesson!
And it's far too profound.
He cautioned, "Albus, if there isn't a dramatic turn of events, your savior complex is likely to completely collapse."
"Hahahaha!" Dumbledore laughed. "Alright, now let Harry witness a miracle that only exists in fairy tales."
As soon as he finished speaking, Vaughn heard the previously silent narration resume:
"The warrior's heart sank to the bottom. Although he fought valiantly, the relentless guardians of the dragon's statues were endless, and his companions fell on the battlefield. Harry Potter began to question his decision in despair, blaming himself for his recklessness and rashness!"
"What a touching friendship and growth!"
"Dear warrior, please remember the pain of today, but also remember that the pain is not meant to make you back down, but to help you understand what the justice and responsibility you uphold are for!"
"The observer sheds crocodile tears and makes a decision with unpredictable consequences—Rule number one is now lifted!"
Harry heard the narrator's voice.
Although the pain and darkness in his heart made him want to ignore it, it was always omnipresent, echoing in the sky and in his ears.
He wanted to yell, "What's the point of lifting that damn rule now?"
Could this possibly bring Hermione back...?
The frenzy of his thoughts was still brewing when, amidst the dense, jostling sounds of the countless stone statues guarding him, he heard a clear, high-pitched voice chanting a spell:
"Everte Statum!" (Reversal Spell)
Harry didn't know what the spell was.
But that voice was all too familiar to him.
Is it Hermione?
He blinked, and his previously numb and colorless pupils suddenly regained their luster.
He wanted to raise his head, to look beyond the wall of stone guardians, to see if Hermione was there in the direction the sound came from.
But there were too many stone statues guarding the area.
"Hermione..."
Harry stretched out his hands desperately, struggling against the weight of the stacked stone guards.
Will a miracle really happen?
Back in the Dursleys' house, he had also prayed for a fairytale-like miracle to happen to him.
Whether it's Santa Claus or Jesus Christ, he begged them to take him away countless nights.
But those prayers only brought disappointment after disappointment, and by the time he was about 6 years old, he no longer believed in those things.
Until this moment!
Six years later, he once again yearned for a miracle.
Then, a miracle really happened!
boom--
With a loud bang, the bridge surface shook violently!
Immediately afterwards, Harry's vision, which had been completely obscured by the stone statues, suddenly brightened.
He was astonished to see... the stone guardians piled on top of him, one by one, flipped into the air by some force, and then fell.
At the same time, Hermione uttered another spell, this time with even stronger emotion, in an almost torn voice:
"Everte-Statum!"
A deafening roar and overflowing emotions imbued the spell with a powerful effect.
All the stone guardians on Harry's body were flipped over by the spell, like stones thrown up by a shockwave, and they were uncontrollably bounced into the air.
With his view wide open, Harry stared blankly at the pale-faced girl standing not far away, amidst the broken limbs of the stone statues.
"Hermione..."
"You idiot Harry, what are you standing there for!" Hermione yelled as she stumbled over.
Despite being scolded, Harry was overjoyed: "Hermione, you're not dead! You're really not dead! A miracle has happened!"
His voice choked, and tears streamed down the queen's stern and cold face.
This left Hermione, who was still shaken and a little irritable, momentarily stunned. But now was not the time for sentimentality. She quickly ran to the "Queen's" feet and climbed up the intricately patterned and gorgeous cloak behind the "Queen."
The stone-carved cloak was enough to support her.
Once she was secure, Hermione smacked Harry hard with her wand: "Harry, hurry, rush across the bridge, rush into the castle, I'll use magic to help you!"
Overjoyed that Hermione had "come back to life," Harry instinctively obeyed her command, grabbing a broken stone arm and whipping it at a charging stone guard while laughing, "Great, Hermione! I just saw you being carried into the group of stone statues by a broom, and I..."
Before he could finish his thoughts, Hermione shouted, "Stop talking nonsense, watch out for both sides of the bridge... Thunderous explosion!"
The two stone guardian statues that had climbed up from either side of the covered bridge were blasted back by Hermione's Explosion Charm.
Her breathing became increasingly labored.
Bang!
After transforming into the "Queen," Harry's powerful acceleration of thought and dynamic vision allowed him to precisely catch a flying spear. The spear abruptly stopped at high speed, releasing a powerful kinetic energy that created a shockwave.
Amidst the billowing smoke, Harry knocked a stone guard away. Hearing Hermione's panting, he asked worriedly, "Hermione, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, just a little exhausted from using too much magic!"
The continuous casting of spells made Hermione's face even paler, but she dared not linger, not only because of the statues on the bridge, but also because the first rule was now invalid.
"Harry, don't worry about me, hurry up and get there... There's no longer any penalty for using magic, Quirrell might be here any minute!"
Upon hearing this, Harry, who was about to ask more questions, suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
He almost forgot about Quirrell!
But as the neighborhood aunties used to say when I was a kid, if you speak of the devil, he's sure to appear.
Just then, Harry and Hermione heard a soft whisper:
"Hehe, Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Granger, are you waiting for me? Waiting for poor Quirrell?"
Harry turned around abruptly. Behind him stretched from the covered bridge to the edge of the forest, at the end of a ravaged battlefield, where a figure draped in a black robe stood, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Qi-no!"
Blood rushed to Harry's brain, and he gritted his teeth, uttering the man's name slowly and deliberately.
Quirrell slightly lifted his black robe and bowed: "Hello, Mr. Potter, we meet again!"
Before he could finish speaking, he flicked his wrist and unleashed a spell.
"Armor protects you!"
Hermione, perched on the "Queen's" back, reacted quickly by reciting the spell, though she couldn't recognize the silent spell Quirrell had cast.
However, in magical duels, as long as it's not dark magic, the Ironclad Charm generally provides good protection.
However, Hermione's understanding of this spell was not very deep. She never imagined that one day she would face a grown wizard head-on!
The thin barrier formed by the Ironclad Curse successfully blocked the spell, but it also collapsed after flickering a few times.
Quirrell chuckled. "I was thinking about this back in Chessboard Town. Poor magic... Of course, Miss Granger, don't be discouraged. Professor Quirrell is actually very happy. For your age, this performance is already quite surprising!"
Quirrell is very relaxed now.
He wasn't in a hurry to get rid of these two overconfident little guys. After all, there were still so many stones and trash on the covered bridge. Instead of expending his own time and effort, why not make use of the available manpower?
He slightly lifted his hood, twirling his wand in his fingers, and as he walked onto the covered bridge, he chuckled and reminded Harry and Hermione, who were staring at him as if facing a formidable enemy, "Are you sure you want to keep watching me? Those stone guardians are still there!"
"you--"
"Harry!" Hermione called out to Harry, staring at Quirrell as she quickly said, "You continue cleaning the statues, I'll watch him!"
Harry gasped angrily, but managed to control his temper and chose to obey Hermione.
He picked up a broken half of a stone statue, roared, and charged into the group of statues that had rushed over, smashing and throwing them around in a frenzy, venting his anger.
Quirrell didn't actually make a move; he just watched from afar, leisurely commenting as he did so.
"Speaking of which, Potter, is this the reward you received after winning the game? The professor was in such a hurry to leave last time that he didn't get a good look. It turns out it's a kind of transfiguration… How amazing! Dumbledore truly deserves to be called a master of transfiguration, doesn't he, Miss Granger?"
What should we do now?
Hermione sat on the "Queen's" cloak, using a spell to stick herself to it so she could concentrate on Quirrell's every move.
She ignored Quirrell's question, partly because she didn't want to waste her attention on idle chatter, and partly because she was thinking about how to break the deadlock.
The situation was dire; she and Harry were trapped on the covered bridge, with stone guards in front of them and Quirrell slowly approaching from behind.
The bridge deck is less than 6 feet wide, leaving no room for maneuver.
The girl gritted her teeth secretly.
She was certain that she was no match for Quirrell, and as for Harry… the "Queen's" power was indeed formidable.
However, this power poses no threat to a wizard, although judging from the previous performance in Chessboard Town, Quirrell's magic could not harm the "Queen".
However, the "Queen" cannot harm a wizard who is no longer bound by rules and can freely cast spells.
Leaving Quirrell aside, Hermione herself had several ways to trick the Queen: the Jester Charm, the Tarantella Dance, the Flip Charm, the Come/Fly Charm, the Binding Charm… and even more terrifying ones, the dreadful spells developed by wizards specifically to deal with solid objects—
Shattered to pieces!
Hermione didn't know the spell, but she believed Quirrell certainly did!
"But Quirrell has never used the Shattering Curse… or even many other evil curses. Why is that?" Hermione suddenly wondered.
The Shattering Charm is a powerful spell in the modern spell system. Its power also means high demands, requiring emotional control and magical ability.
As far as Hermione knew, normally young wizards wouldn't have enough magic to cast curses like the Shattering Curse until they were close to adulthood.
It wasn't that it couldn't be used before, but rather that its power was very small.
Quirrell graduated long ago and is from Ravenclaw; his knowledge and magic are not a problem... Why doesn't he use it?
I recalled Quirrell in Checkerboard Town, who had only used the Split Charm, the Explosion Charm, and the Disarm Charm. I also remembered the vial containing unicorn blood that Harry and I found at the spot where Quirrell had fallen.
Hermione, quick-witted, called out, "Professor Quirrell!"
"Ah, dear Miss Granger, it's so nice to hear you call me Professor again," Quirrell replied cheerfully. "What are you going to say? Are you planning to pledge allegiance to your dear Professor?"
He was grinning, his pale face devoid of the familiar cowardice and neuroticism of the past.
Instead, it transformed into a confident, composed demeanor, as if everything was under control, and even a mood for joking.
Hermione gave a perfunctory smile, but it was a sarcastic one: "I was wondering how someone could change their attitude so quickly. When Dumbledore was around, you practically wanted to become a clown every day, trying your best to please every student who mocked and bullied you, just so you wouldn't attract Dumbledore's attention."
"Before you could use magic, you were also taciturn, low-key and insecure. If we made a casual sarcastic remark, you would turn gloomy and look like you wanted to eat people."
"And now, you're putting on a victor's face, mocking and making fun of two teenagers... I find it strange that there are so many fickle and shameless people in the world?"
Quirrell's expression darkened for a moment, then he smiled indifferently: "Foolish little girl, trying to provoke me won't do you any good. You should be glad my main goal is to obtain the Philosopher's Stone, not to kill someone, otherwise..."
"Or what? Torture me with a gruesome spell? I've heard that dark magic requires vicious negative emotions and immense magical power. Can a coward like you really cast that spell?"
Hermione retorted loudly, "We found out from the centaurs that you've sided with the Dark Lord. How strange! Some people would rather be good people than dogs!"
Boom!
It sounded like teeth being crushed.
Quirrell's face darkened completely. He gripped his wand tightly, narrowed his eyes, and stared at Hermione's face: "For the first time, I find your cute little face really annoying!"
With a wave of his staff, magic silently drifted out from the tip.
Hermione, who was already on guard, immediately shouted, "Protect yourself!"
She doesn't really have many spells to use in combat, but as Vaughn said when he taught her the Ironclad Charm, most battles don't actually require much strategy.
Having at least one spell for both offense and defense is enough to handle 80% of combat scenarios.
Because, frankly speaking, there are only two purposes in a battle: to protect yourself and to defeat the enemy!
As expected, the Ironclad Curse shattered, and amidst the shimmering fragments, Quirrell unleashed another spell that silently attacked.
Having learned her lesson in Chessboard Town, Hermione was naturally on guard. The moment the armor spell shattered, she lunged to the side.
Although she looked a bit disheveled, she had successfully escaped the curse, which left a faint black mark where she had originally stood.
It seems to be some kind of dark magic.
Without bothering to identify her, Hermione raised her wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
Upon hearing the shout, Quirrell instinctively waved his wand to defend himself. The next moment, his face turned red—because Hermione had only shouted and hadn't seen the distinctive red glow of the Disarming Charm.