Chapter 121 Battle with the Battle-Damaged Dark Lord
"We've got him!"
Vaughn sensed something amiss and immediately broke free of his teleportation state, "squeezing" himself out of thin air. Before him stood Voldemort, who had just apparated.
Before the visible "smoke" could even dissipate, his expression grew even more astonished!
Vaughn, who suddenly appeared in front of Voldemort, flashed his wand and unleashed the sinister Divine Strike, an invisible blade that was unavoidable at close range.
With a soft "poof".
Blood splattered, and a long wound appeared on Voldemort's side, from which blood flowed uncontrollably.
The Dark Lord was injured as soon as the battle began!
Voldemort's bloodshot eyes grew even more ferocious. His rich combat experience allowed him to instantly understand Vaughn's strategy. Ignoring the wound on his side, as his wand returned to defense, black mist emanated from his body.
The ground was corroded by the black mist, making a hissing sound.
Vaughn, who had originally intended to stay close, suddenly slid away as lightly as a piece of paper.
At the same time, Voldemort swung his wand and unleashed what appeared to be an invisible blade, but the invisible force was swallowed up by a semi-transparent barrier after flying a meter.
Max level Ironclad Spell!
Durable and with excellent magic resistance!
The unknown magic Voldemort cast couldn't even make it tremble. The next second, Vaughn Apparated again, silently appearing behind Voldemort.
A tiny spark ignited the moment he appeared.
boom!
Harry and Hermione stared blankly at the battlefield where the two were fighting. The intensely expanding flames completely engulfed the area, and a large crater was blasted into the ground. Voldemort, covered in thick smoke, was blasted away by the violent explosion.
Even so, the power of the curse binding him did not diminish. As he was blasted away and rolled, the fire marks remaining on his clothes erupted several more times with flashes of light, creating a barrage of explosions.
"What kind of spell is that?" Harry asked.
Hermione composed herself, "Big Boom! A spell that causes enemies to explode in succession!"
Harry listened intently, mesmerized!
Harry had never realized that Vaughn was so powerful, and he also knew that Vaughn's offensive style was very aggressive.
Once he gains the upper hand, his attacks will be relentless, making it a luxury for his opponent to even catch his breath!
Don't ask how I know, it's all from experience!
Sure enough, before Voldemort, who had just been bombarded, could even land, the smoke of Apparition reappeared beside him.
Through the smoke, Vaughn reached out a hand and grabbed Voldemort's arm!
"hiss--"
Voldemort let out a hoarse hiss, and the clothes on his arm transformed into venomous snakes as he roared, viciously biting at Vaughn's outstretched hand.
But Vaughn's hands didn't stop; he had to keep the rhythm under his control, and it was worth it to make even the slightest sacrifice for it!
The snake bit Vaughn, and the wound immediately turned black, but Vaughn also caught Voldemort.
The two figures contorted—Vaughn forcibly brought Voldemort into Apparition!
The dangerous spatial spell was used to its fullest potential by Vaughn. Harry and Hermione heard a crackling sound, Voldemort remained where he was, while Vaughn appeared about 10 feet away.
But in his hand, which was bitten by a venomous snake, he was clutching a bloody arm with its severed surface revealing the bare white bone!
Voldemort's arm was torn off!
"ah--"
A hoarse, painful scream echoed through the hall.
Pain overwhelmed Voldemort's senses; he could hardly remember the last time he had been injured.
Even Harry Potter never experienced such pain – the Killing Curse doesn't hurt, it just kills you!
Of course, the Dark Lord wouldn't lose his mind because of anger; his anger and shame would only make his emotions more vicious.
He no longer hesitated to use Quirrell's body; billowing black smoke emanated from that weak, broken body, engulfing and corroding everything around it.
In the smoke, he forced the body to its limit, pushing it to the brink of collapse, in order to bear more of his magic!
Green light burst forth—
"Avada—Kedavra!"
Avada Kedavra!
A green glow illuminates the black fog!
The thick, corrosive mist vanished under the light, unleashing a magical, electric-like effect.
"ah!"
The moment he saw the green light, Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead and fell to the ground with a scream.
Beside him, Hermione, who had been watching the battlefield intently, was drenched in cold sweat and her limbs were stiff.
As a spell that directly "kills" a soul, even though the Killing Curse wasn't aimed at her, even though she wasn't close by, even though she had indirectly encountered the Killing Curse last Halloween.
But back then, Vaughn stood in front of her, and now, she finally saw what the Killing Curse really looked like!
When that green light spread out in her eyes, shooting out like a giant serpent tearing through the mist.
The mere glimpse of her aura was enough to completely paralyze Hermione—
What a despairing magic it was! Death, destruction, withering... it seemed that all concepts related to death were contained in that magical light. Just one glance was enough to make one tremble and fear, cowering in its terror!
Time slowed down.
This is not an illusion, but Hermione's genuine feeling!
She saw Vaughn, facing the Killing Curse, gently turn the hourglass-shaped pendant in his hand—he had removed the Time-Turner from the dragon's neck at some point.
The sound of the pendant turning was incredibly clear in the suddenly silent space; it was like the click of a clock.
Tick-tock!
Tick-tock!
With each rotation, time stretched out a little longer, the ticking sound slowed down, and with each pause, the sound was like an echo reverberating in an empty room, hollow and lingering!
Then, freeze!
What would the world be like if time stopped?
This was a rather grand and complex question, one that Hermione couldn't quite grasp at the moment, but at that moment, she clearly saw the scene created by time stopping in this space—
Everything was frozen in time, like a realistic painting, including light—the light of fire, the light of the Killing Curse, and the light of this space from who-knows-where… These photons, which had lost their motion, were like colorful amber, solidified in the air, making everything in sight hazy and dazzling.
Only the mind remains active, but very, very slowly, as if the original linear path has suddenly been stretched many times over.
Hermione saw Vaughn moving very slowly.
"He can still move..."
Hermione's sluggish thoughts raced with delight.
Yes, although it's slow, Vaughn is indeed still able to move freely.
"time..."
Vaughn stared at the large patches of solidified light in his field of vision, and at the Killing Curse that had been about three feet away from him before time stopped.
As one of the most powerful dark spells in the magical world, the Killing Curse is both ruthless and fast, almost as fast as the Disarming Curse. If it were easy to dodge, it wouldn't have made such a name for itself!
What's more troublesome than the disarming spell is that there are almost no ways to defend against it.
In his battle against Voldemort, Vaughn would naturally be wary of the Unforgivable Curse. The Time Stop was his attempt to put his previous experiments on time into practice after they had yielded results.
So far, the results seem good.
Looking at the Killing Curse that seemed within reach, Vaughn suppressed the curiosity in his eyes.
The slowly moving vision scanned the frozen space.
"Unfortunately, such methods cannot be used in reality."
Time is not some independent substance, nor is it some objective reality (although it objectively exists), but rather the movement and continuity of things.
To control time, you must first be able to control everything!
This is, of course, impossible in reality.
With a regretful thought, Vaughn turned back the Time-Turner with one hand, and with the other, his wand trembled slightly in the slowed flow of time.
A silent levitation spell spread along the cracks in the ground caused by the explosion moments before.
The stillness of time infinitely prolongs the transmission of sound.
Without a sound, many pebbles floated up, like attracted celestial bodies, gathering around Vaughn.
The next moment, time resumed!
Boom!
The roar that had been restrained by the stop of time resounded, and amidst the deafening sound, Vaughn swiftly tapped the rubble gathered around him with his wand as the Killing Curse struck again.
Under the influence of magic, they quickly twisted and deformed.
They transformed into lifelike animals, filling the area in front of Vaughn in the blink of an eye.
The green light crashed into us!
Vaughn's memories from his past life made him realize that there were actually ways to defend against the Killing Curse. Dumbledore would use Transfiguration in the "future" to show people why he could make Voldemort so fearsome!
Before enrolling, Vaughn didn't understand why Transfiguration could counter the Killing Curse.
It wasn't until after he enrolled and was taught by Professor McGonagall that his Transfiguration skills began to deepen, progressing from "inanimate objects becoming active" to "living objects becoming inanimate objects."
Until he obtained Barty Crouch Jr., an excellent research subject.
The secrets of the Unforgivable Curse began to be revealed to him, such as the Black Magic's tendency toward life—even if it was just illusory life!
ah--
The moment the green light touched the shapeshifting creature, the wailing of the dead rang in their ears. The sound was hollow and distant, seemingly echoing in the air, yet also appearing to come from a more illusory realm.
Silently, the "life" of the transformed animals vanished, and they reverted to their original stone nature, collapsing like sand and dust.
But their mission is complete.
The killing curse was neutralized, the green light disappeared, leaving only a faint trace of light in the retina, telling the story of what had just happened!
This result was within Vaughn's expectations. Although Voldemort, who was experienced in combat, was surprised, he was not too bothered by it.
The brief exchange had given him a rough idea of Vaughn's fighting style.
They advocate offense, ferocity, and dominance!
If we can't completely suppress him with magic, he will definitely launch a counterattack quickly in order to continue to seize the initiative and control the rhythm!
Sure enough, the next second, Voldemort saw Vaughn's body twisting and turning more than ten feet away, like a rapidly swirling cloud of smoke disappearing into the air.
Crack!
A faint sound of spatial teleportation came from behind. Voldemort, who was prepared, retaliated with a spell behind him, and at the same time, he began to Apparate.
Voldemort didn't pay attention to whether his spell had hit Vaughn Weasley; he didn't even glance at him, because he sensed that the injured and forced use of the Killing Curse was taking its toll on this useless body.
The field of vision shifted rapidly due to the distortion of space, and in an instant, we entered a strange spatial state.
He looked at the hazy smoke around him, and watched the scenery rush past him as if it were pasted onto a curved mirror.
Then, he saw his goal.
Harry Potter!
Voldemort already understood.
Given his current condition, it's virtually impossible for him to defeat Vaughn Weasley quickly; the failure of the Killing Curse not long ago sealed this fate.
If this drags on any longer, Quirrell's body could collapse at any moment, and he would once again become a lonely shadow, drifting aimlessly between heaven and earth.
I don't know when it will see the light of day again!
So even when he was furious and angry, Voldemort remained sane.
He knew clearly that his most important goal at present was resurrection.
Now that the Philosopher's Stone is in his hands, as long as he can escape this space, the Dark Lord can make a comeback!
Vaughn is undoubtedly the biggest obstacle to his escape from this space, but at the same time, Harry is also his greatest guarantee.
If only he can catch Harry!
The Dark Lord is patient and wise. For the past 11 years, he has been able to hide in the jungle like a rat, so he certainly has no shame for his retreat now.
When he spotted Harry, he didn't hesitate to Apparate, preparing to exit his warp state.
Then, he suddenly opened his eyes wide—in that distorted, mirrored passageway where countless scenes glided by, a pair of hands grabbed him!
Those hands were fair and slender, just as vivid and powerful as when they had gripped Voldemort's arm not long ago.
Voldemort suddenly felt a chill run down his spine!
Vaughn Weasley is forcibly invading his Apparition!
And the invasion was extremely fast!
In an instant, Vaughn Weasley was stretched into a long, thin shape and squeezed in from outside the "mirror." He saw the other person's calm eyes and felt those slender, white hands gripping his neck.
Voldemort could sense that some strange force was interfering with Apparition, just like the feeling when his arm was ripped off not long ago!
The exact same methods, arrogant and presumptuous!
Damn redheads!
Their eyes met. Voldemort's expression was ferocious, and a vicious emotion surged within him—his anger, the very raw material for dark magic.
Grayish-white magic emanated from him, and the spatial tunnels that had been distorted by Apparition rapidly collapsed under its influence.
He is forcibly manifesting his phantom form.
This was undoubtedly a very dangerous thing. Voldemort felt a sudden, sharp pain in his back, and a large amount of blood swirled and gushed out.
On the other side, Vaughn also had huge gashes on his chest and shoulders.
Separate parts!
But it was all too late.
With a crackling sound.
The distorted space completely collapsed, and two bloodied figures staggered out. Voldemort's bloodshot eyes were fixed on Vaughn, looking at the wounds on his chest and shoulders, and at his eyes, which had remained as calm as a deep pool from beginning to end.
And behind Vaughn, there's that thin body wrapped in a black robe, but without a head!
Voldemort knew it well; it once belonged to Quirrell, but a second ago, it belonged to him!
Now, it's like someone who has suddenly gone blind, raising its hands aimlessly, stumbling a few steps, and then collapsing with a thud.
Jingle bells!
A scarlet ruby fell from the headless corpse, reflecting a brilliant light, and rolled to Vaughn's feet.
Vaughn raised his hands and then released them.
Voldemort's head fell, bounced a few times, and came to rest in front of the scarlet Philosopher's Stone.
"Vaughn…Weasley…"
Voldemort's lips moved, his voice barely audible as he lost his body, but he still tried to make a sound. His bloodshot eyes also turned bloodshot as he turned toward Vaughn, not even paying attention to the Philosopher's Stone that he had been longing for.
"I... I'll remember you..."
"It is my honor, Dark Lord."
Vaughn's voice was as calm as his eyes. The wounds on his chest and shoulder seemed to have no effect on his emotions. Only his slightly trembling hands as he bent down to pick up the Philosopher's Stone showed his pain.
And inner joy!
Voldemort saw the pleasure in his eyes: "You...you think you've defeated...me?"
"Of course not." Vaughn picked up the Philosopher's Stone, examined it against the light, and a smile appeared on his pale face: "Right now you are just a dying soul clinging to life. There's nothing to be proud of in defeating you. I'm just glad I did it. You can't take the Philosopher's Stone with you!"
Voldemort stared at Vaughn for a moment, then smirked, "Heh—well, I look forward to seeing you again..."
As soon as the words were spoken, thick black smoke billowed from the head, coalescing into a distorted, ugly face. It howled as if being pulled or rejected by something, tumbling and flying away, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
Vaughn did not try to stop him.
In this state, Voldemort is unstoppable; he is neither a living person nor a ghost, and no magic or physical means can affect him.
Just like no one can hurt a shadow.
Otherwise, even if Dumbledore wanted to nurture Harry, he wouldn't have allowed Voldemort to exist until now.
Just as Vaughn thought of Dumbledore, he heard that annoying voice: "Darling, superb magic, brilliant tactics, you have just defeated the Dark Lord!"
Turning around, Vaughn saw that Harry and Hermione had both fainted, and Dumbledore was standing behind them, his hands clasped in front of his abdomen, smiling at him with a cheerful expression.
He rolled his eyes: "I'm injured, I don't want to talk to you."
"What kind of injury is this? It's just a split body!"
"Would you like me to split you up and see if I could?"
"I'm over a hundred years old, I can't afford this... cough, can you give me back the Philosopher's Stone?"
"We'll talk about the Philosopher's Stone later, Albus, I'm injured!"
"...Didn't I give you three drops of Fox's Tears before? It's just a matter of different types; one drop of tears is enough to cure it."
"That's for Hermione, Harry, and Ron."
"...So, you want another drop?"
"I've lost so much blood, and now I'm on the verge of death. I don't think a single tear can heal me. What do you think?"
"..."
...
Harry was awakened by a nightmare. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a blurry ceiling.
There was another hoarse voice, seemingly familiar yet different: "Harry, how are you feeling right now?"
Looking up at the sound, Harry could only see a blurry outline. He instinctively asked, "Where are my glasses?"
He saw the blurry figure slowly take something from the side and hand it to him, saying, "I was so worried, but Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore both said you're fine, just a little affected and have fallen into a deep sleep."
Harry fumbled around, putting on his glasses as he pondered.
Where is he?
Were all those previous experiences just a dream?
Why did the person in front of him seem so familiar? The voice did sound somewhat familiar, but it was as if the other person had a carrot in their mouth. In his memory, no one he knew would talk like that.
With all these doubts in mind, the first thing he did after putting on his glasses was to look over there.
I was immediately startled.
What a huge... head!
A head that was swollen several times its normal size stood in front of him. Harry leaned back to see the body "hidden" under the head.
Then, he finally found a familiar feeling in those clothes, his eyes widened, and his voice trembled:
"Ron?"
"...Of course I didn't die. Although when I rushed up there, I thought I was going to die for sure. After all, the traps were designed to guard against dark wizards!"
"I don't know what happened, I just passed out, and when I woke up I found myself still alive, but it didn't feel good at all, because there was a huge fire dragon lying in front of me..."
Ron kept telling Harry about his "resurrection" experience, his big head and big sausage lips trembling, making Harry very uncomfortable.
Finally, I couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Ron was annoyed: "What are you laughing at? I'm telling you something really exciting!"
"I'm sorry, Ron, I just... puh... cough, I just can't quite believe it..." Harry finished his apology with difficulty. To avoid bursting out laughing and hurting Ron's pride, he quickly changed the subject: "So, you saw the dragon before we did?"
Speaking of this, Ron's swollen head seemed to glow: "Of course, I think I probably triggered some hidden conditions in Chessboard Town, such as self-sacrifice or demonstrating noble virtues, which is why I was directly teleported to the Dragon's Nest."
He automatically ignored the fact that he had always been on the Fire Dragon's side, after all, the Fire Dragon was evil, and what he did was so righteous!
"Haven't many stories told this story? Heroes pass hidden trials and win the game directly. Unfortunately, the design of Chessboard Town didn't capture the essence of it. They just threw me into the dragon's lair and that was it. After that, they just watched you and Hermione fight Voldemort..."
As he spoke, Ron smacked his lips regretfully, and his two fat sausages began to tremble again.
Harry almost laughed again and had to look away, but he also keenly caught the message Ron was getting: "You can see us?"
"Yes, there are a lot of Muggle televisions in the dragon's nest. They must have been magically modified. I saw you chasing Quirrell and storming the dragon's castle."
Harry looked at him nervously: "Then... are there other people in the dragon's nest?"
"No." Ron shook his head, but before Harry could breathe a sigh of relief, he added, "You want to ask about Vaughn and Dumbledore, right?"
Harry nodded quickly.
Ron sighed: "I think they've always been there... at least when I left that painted world, I was brought out by Dumbledore, and Vaughn was there too, he was injured!"
Upon hearing this, Harry, who was overjoyed to wake up and find Ron still alive, finally remembered what had happened before he fell into a coma.
He sat up immediately: "Vaughn is injured? How is he?"
Before Ron could answer, a voice spoke first: "Vaughn is fine, Harry. How about you? How are you feeling?"
It's Dumbledore.
The principal, dressed in a white robe, looked both solemn and kind, and walked in with a smile from outside the door.
He nodded to Ron: "Mr. Weasley, now that Harry is awake, you should go back to your bed and rest. If Madam Pomfrey sees you wandering around, she'll be furious. Dragon dung is very toxic, and you've been in contact with it quite a bit, so you need to rest properly."
This passage contains a lot of information. Ron seemed to want to refute it, but in the end he just ran to another bed and buried his big head in the blanket.
Harry ignored Ron's embarrassment and looked at Dumbledore with a hesitant expression.
After a moment, he still asked in a low voice, "Dumbledore, were you and Vaughn really always here? Watching Hermione and me, watching us fight Quirrell and Voldemort?"
Hermione has already said that Voldemort deliberately exposed this matter in order to sow discord and make him suspicious.
But undeniably, this question is a thorn in Harry's side, and if he doesn't get an answer, it will remain stuck there forever.
He hoped to hear an answer that differed from Voldemort's.
However, under his expectant and anxious gaze, Dumbledore, sitting by his bedside, nodded calmly: "Yes, Harry, Vaughn and I have always been here."
"...when?"
Harry's voice was dry.
Dumbledore answered honestly, "After Quirinus and you went in, Vaughn and I returned from the Ministry of Magic, within five minutes of each other."
Although he is somewhat reckless, Harry is not stupid; on the contrary, he is quite intelligent.
From the time difference mentioned by Dumbledore, he perceived the information contained within it and even figured out part of the "truth." Some questions that he couldn't understand before were all answered at this moment.
Why has the school failed to track down the man in the black robe?
Why was Snape able to transfer Dumbledore and Vaughn away?
It was all a carefully orchestrated scheme. Snape, Dumbledore, Vaughn... they had everything planned out long ago. Only he, Harry Potter, foolishly believed he was saving the world!
Thinking about his anxiety at learning that Quirrell was planning to steal the Philosopher's Stone but couldn't find Dumbledore and Vaughn, Harry's expression turned slightly self-deprecating: "Thinking about it carefully, there are actually quite a few suspicious points. The most obvious one is Snape... a professor, how could I have overheard his conversation with Quirrell?"
"When I was at my most confused, I overheard him and Quirrell 'conspiring' and obtained crucial information… There can't be that many coincidences…"
He muttered to himself, shrinking into the covers, not wanting to see Dumbledore again, much less speak.
Dumbledore looked at his thin back with a complicated expression. After a moment of silence, he sighed and said, "I'm sorry, Harry, but I still want to tell you that Vaughn has always been against me letting you meet Voldemort. It was I who insisted. I'm sorry, child."
Harry shrugged, and after a long pause, his deep voice came through:
I want to be alone for a while.
Dumbledore's lips twitched a few times, but he ultimately said nothing more, leaving behind the words, "I'll come see you again later," before leaving the school hospital.
He understood Harry's temper; anyone would feel emotional when they discovered that their thrilling experience was orchestrated by the person they trusted most.
He just hoped Harry could figure it out as soon as possible.
However, Harry's current refusal to communicate is making him feel somewhat depressed.
However, this dejected mood vanished abruptly when he returned to the principal's office—
The weather is lovely today; it seems even the heavens are celebrating the end of the Savior's trials. The bright morning sun shines down gently, neither too intense nor too cold.
The office window was open, and a gentle breeze blew in, stirring the curtains, behind which lay a clear, blue sky.
Beneath the curtains, Vaughn, who was wrapped up tightly, was leisurely lying on the bay window sill.
"Vaughn, is this angle okay for the book?"
"A little further...yes, this distance."
"Come, try Dumbledore's coffee. An old headmaster in the portrait told me about it, and he said it tastes very good."
"Yes, it's really good. You should try it too."
"hey-hey."
Looking at the boy and girl basking in the sun under the curtains, laughing and snuggling together, Dumbledore suddenly felt that the sunlight shining on them was so bright that he could hardly open his eyes...
Hermione stayed with Vaughn in the headmaster's office for the entire day.
The girl was very popular with the portraits, especially the several witches whose portraits had been hanging on the walls for hundreds and thousands of years and had seen enough of the old faces of past headmasters. They were delighted to see a young witch who was studying and affectionately called Hermione "the studious Granger".
As it turns out, Hermione's personality may not be liked by her peers, but she is highly favored by her teachers.
Hermione also enjoys chatting with the portraits. She is curious about everything and has an insatiable thirst for knowledge, while the portraits are happy to answer her various questions to pass the time.
So much so that when Hermione had to return to Gryffindor House in the evening, the witches were still reluctant to part with her.
"Young lady, you can come and visit us more often when you have free time. Life here is too boring. We can only face Dumbledore's face, which looks like a desert, every day. It's utterly dull."
"Yes, kid, I've been with six principals. You know, these guys were all old men and women when they became principals. I've almost forgotten what it's like to be young and energetic."
"Then why don't you go and look around at the other portraits in the castle?" Hermione asked, as far as she knew, the other portraits in the castle could visit each other.
The portraits sighed: "We cannot leave without permission. We were all headmasters, and we hold the secrets of Hogwarts. Only the current headmaster has the right to know those secrets. To avoid being misled, most of us swore an oath when we donated our portraits that we would not leave this room without the headmaster's permission."
Chapter 122 Curse and Heartache
"Most people?"
"Oh yes, child, there are always some headmasters who are incompetent fools, and they have no secrets."
The witch who said this was dressed in a Baroque-style court dress, looking elegant and noble.
She glanced at a portrait with a disdainful and deliberate air.
Hermione followed her gaze and saw a gloomy-looking old man in the portrait, who looked anxious and melancholy.
Hermione knew him; when she accompanied Vaughn, the old man shouted Vaughn's name and was then given a good beating by another old wizard with a long white beard.
They called him Phineas Black.
This name is not unfamiliar. Hermione had read "A History of the School" which clearly recorded him, calling him "the most incompetent principal in modern times".
Of course, his other most famous achievement was "nurturing" Albus Dumbledore during his time as headmaster!
In this respect, among the modern school principals whose reputation rivals his, only Armando Dippert is comparable. During Dippert's tenure as principal, he "nurtured" Voldemort...
Lost in thought, Hermione waved to Vaughn and then bid farewell to the portraits she was reluctant to leave.
Seeing that the other portraits were all saying goodbye to the girl and no one was paying attention to him anymore, Phineas Black secretly slipped away to the vicinity of Vaughn:
"Hey, Weasley kid!"
Vaughn glanced at him but ignored him.
Phineas was furious; he wasn't exactly known for his good temper. But now that he needed Phineas's help, he forced a smile: "Weasley, remember my suggestion from last time? It still stands... Oh—Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore approached. "Phineas, why don't you try to let go?"
As he spoke, he removed the frame from the Phineas Black painting.
Phineas clung to the picture frame, pleading, "Dumbledore, please, let me finish what I have to say! I don't expect anyone to save that bastard now. Yes, he deserved it, but... but he's the last of the Black family bloodline..."
On the other side, Hermione left, and the portraits of her departing family gathered around, watching Phineas Black and weeping softly.
"Once he dies, the Black family will be extinct, a thousand years of history will turn to dust. Merlin, is the Black family cursed? Dumbledore, Weasley, for the sake of this old man, can you think of a way to ensure that at least one member of the Black family survives?"
"It was my mistake to use dark magic to lure Weasley last time, and I am willing to apologize. Dumbledore, I am even willing to donate the Black family's magic to the school, I just beg you, please let the Black family continue!"
He wept bitterly, and the portraits whispered among themselves.
But Dumbledore remained unmoved.
His fingers brushed across the portrait, and a silent incantation lulled the weeping Phineas into a deep sleep. Then he put the frame away.
One of the portraits, unable to bear it, said, "Dumbledore, perhaps..."
"No maybe!" Dumbledore said firmly, waving his wand to put all the portraits to sleep.
He looked very upset. Noticing Vaughn looking at him, he paused before explaining, "Vaughn, don't listen to Phineas's pitiful act. The last descendant of the Black family committed an unforgivable crime. He only deserves to be imprisoned in Azkaban and has no right to do anything else."
Dumbledore didn't even want to say the person's name.
But Vaughn certainly knew: "Sirius Black? (Sirius is an incorrect translation, but it's used here as a convention)"
Upon hearing the name Sirius, Dumbledore seemed momentarily dazed. "Where did you hear that from?"
Vaughn had already prepared an excuse: "After Phineas tried to seduce me with dark magic last time, I specifically looked up newspapers from more than ten years ago and even asked my parents... He was a good friend of Harry's father, James Potter, and also Harry's godfather."
"Then you should know how evil he is!"
"Well, he was very evil. As the keeper of the 'Loyalty' spell, he leaked the Potter family's address to the Dark Lord. And after the Dark Lord's death, he went so far as to kill his other good friend, Peter Pettigrew."
Vaughn concluded without showing the slightest change in expression.
"Sigh..." Dumbledore sighed, not continuing the topic. He looked at Vaughn's bandaged wound and frowned slightly: "Is the injury still not healed?"
Vaughn shook his head: "No."
He unwrapped the bandages, and in the afterglow of the setting sun outside the window, the two could see that the wounds on his chest and shoulders, caused by Voldemort's forced Apparition, were still bleeding.
The granulation tissue in the wound was throbbing, and the powerful healing power of the Phoenix Tears was still taking effect. However, on the other hand, a wisp of blackness lingered at the wound, hindering its healing!
As the bandages were removed, black marks spread like a spider web across half of Vaughn's body, all the way to the source—a small snake bite on his right hand.
Dumbledore bent down to examine it closely, his azure eyes gleaming behind his crescent-shaped spectacles. After a moment, he looked up: "Tom's curse..."
"Yes, it's rather troublesome."
The curse was cast by Vaughn when he used Apparition to tear off Voldemort's arm.
As a master of dark magic, Voldemort's spells should not be underestimated.
However, Vaughn wasn't too worried about the curse.
On the one hand, Voldemort was in such a hurry that he didn't have the strength to cast any particularly difficult spells.
On the other hand, Vaughn was a potions master, and his potions were quite effective in treating dark magic.
It just needs time!
"Don't let anyone else know," Vaughn cautioned. "I didn't tell Hermione either, so they wouldn't worry."
Dumbledore understood, and after thinking for a moment, he said, "I still need to talk to your Potions professor. Severus is very good at handling... the problems Tom left behind. I think you should know some things about him."
Old Deng's gaze was somewhat inquisitive.
He didn't tell Vaughn that Snape had been a double agent.
What puzzled Dumbledore was that Vaughn never questioned the arrangement of Snape as an "undercover agent" to guide Quirrell and Harry.
It was as if he already knew that Snape was connected to Voldemort!
Dumbledore has suspected Vaughn of having a prophetic talent on many occasions—although the Weasley family has never had a prophet in its history.
Dumbledore never tried to ask Vaughn because he knew that Vaughn was actually very similar to himself; there were things they didn't want to talk about that no matter how much you asked, you would never get an answer.
So he could only try to get the information indirectly.
Sensing his probing, Vaughn smiled and said deliberately, "I'll tell the professor, and by the way, I'll tell him that I've turned his idol Voldemort back into a shadow. I hope he won't be too sad."
...He really knew...
Dumbledore smiled. "It would be best to recreate the details, like how you tore off Tom's arm and ripped off his head... Oh, by the way, you put a lot of cameras in the painting world. Perhaps it would be more intuitive for Severus to see the footage in person?"
"You're such a bad guy, Albus."
"Darling, you too!"
After exchanging a few sarcastic remarks, Dumbledore waved his wand, summoning several items: a Time-Turner, a Philosopher's Stone, and a scroll.
He put the time-tamper and the magic stone into his pocket, and pushed the scroll to Vaughn.
"What do you mean?" Vaughn looked at the scroll, which was the key to the world in the painting, equivalent to the main body of that small world.
Dumbledore explained, "The matter is resolved, and it no longer means anything to me. I know you will continue to study small worlds in the future. The alchemical materials that can support a 'world' are still very rare. Its creator spent decades gathering the materials. Keeping it will save you a lot of trouble."
Upon hearing the last sentence, Vaughn thought for a moment, then took the scroll: "Thank you... Actually, I'd rather have the Time-Turner!"
"That won't do, darling, you're not old enough to use it yet. When you're in third grade, you can try to apply for it from Minerva again. As for this one, I have to return it to the Department of Mysteries…" Old Deng winked mischievously, "Hopefully they haven't realized one is missing!"
"You stole it?"
"How can you call something a wizard stealing? It was borrowed, I just forgot to tell Mr. Fudge!"
"Shameless!" Vaughn rolled his eyes, then glanced maliciously at the bulging bag in his arms: "What are you going to do with the Philosopher's Stone?"
"This needs to be returned to Nico. I promised him I would only borrow it for a short period of time."
"And then what? What will Nicolas Flamel do with it?" Vaughn pressed.
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, but then told the truth: "Nicole will probably destroy them... You know, both gold and immortality can arouse people's greed. Because of it, Nicole went into seclusion two centuries ago, and he didn't even dare to pass on the method of making the Philosopher's Stone."
"You don't know either? I remember you two worked together for a long time."
"Of course I won't. Nico won't teach me, and I won't learn it either. The existence of the Philosopher's Stone goes against the laws of nature. I have no intention of judging whether its existence is right or wrong, but it is clear that ensuring that it does not spread is the most important thing. Neither Muggle society nor the wizarding world should have a group of immortal people."
Vaughn frowned. He understood the logic, but he still felt it was a pity: "The Philosopher's Stone represents the highest achievement of the 'Golden Soul' theory. It is a miracle in itself. If it is destroyed like that, wouldn't it mean that the knowledge will also be cut off?"
He didn't care about the so-called immortality of the Philosopher's Stone, nor did he have any interest in its ability to transform gold; he only cared about the knowledge system it represented.
Because of the foreseeable future, Vaughn believed that he could not continue along the path of the "Golden Soul" theory. The core idea of that line of alchemy was that the individual was incomplete and that they pursued wholeness and perfection, which was a path of completion!
While Vaughn's current views are not yet systematic, they are completely opposite to the "Golden Soul" theory in terms of cognition. In his view, reality and ether are two sides of the same coin, there is no so-called "cosmic soul (golden soul)", and naturally there is no such thing as imperfection or perfection.
Matter is matter!
Macroscopic, microscopic, energy, and ether are all different manifestations of it at different energy levels and in different dimensions.
Of course, Vaughn did not believe that he was absolutely right and that others were absolutely wrong, so he still hoped to absorb knowledge systems from different schools of thought to improve and verify his own system.
If the Philosopher's Stone is destroyed and the method of making it is lost, it would be a real pity for him!
Dumbledore understood his meaning. In the pursuit of knowledge, Dumbledore still trusted Vaughn and knew that he was not someone who would be blinded by greed.
This made Lao Deng even more hesitant.
After hesitating for a long time, he finally nodded: "I will convey your message to Nico later and see what he says..."
Vaughn smiled and said, "Or you can give me his address and I'll go visit him?"
Dumbledore pretended not to hear.
Although he believed in Vaughn's pursuit of knowledge and his attitude towards it, it didn't stop him from thinking that the guy was dangerous.
He's a ruthless guy who dared to rip Voldemort's head off!
After chatting for a few more minutes, Dumbledore hurriedly left. He wasn't in a rush to return the Philosopher's Stone, but he wanted to return the Time-Turner he had "borrowed" as soon as possible that evening.
There's also Mr. Potter, the representative of Evamony. He and Vaughn left suddenly, so we have to go back and meet them again to maintain proper etiquette.
Before leaving, Dumbledore thought for a moment and instructed Vaughn: "Vaughn, go see Harry when you have time. He's a bit upset right now because of our deception and lies... The boy trusts you more than I do."
"Um."
Vaughn agreed and asked, "Is there anything I can't say?"
To enlighten a child who thirsts for the truth, you should tell him the truth, but there are some things you can't tell Harry.
Knowing what he meant, Dumbledore, facing the light of the sunset streaming through the window, dimmed his eyes slightly: "...You decide for yourself..."
Vaughn didn't rush to see Harry.
After Dumbledore left, he turned on the light in the headmaster's office, sat down at the large desk, and took out his notebook to organize the conclusions and follow-up thoughts of this "experiment".
"Timeline folding!"
Under his magical influence, the quill rustled and automatically wrote down the title and brief content.
"...The time reversal in the small world can indirectly prove that the initial timeline of the world can be changed within the same dimension. Using Novikov's principle of self-consistency, we can assume that reality is already the altered timeline, and time travel is still possible, but the timeline after the journey is in a folded state..."
"...To put it simply, that folded state is like a roller coaster track curving into a circle. A time traveler enters from one end, and no matter where he travels to in the circle, his trajectory is a futile circular motion until he completes the journey without any change, and then exits from the other end, returning to the 'present'..."
But how did the "circle" come about?
How can we ensure that time travelers will fall precisely into the circle when they travel back in time?
Thinking it over, Vaughn wrote down two words.
[node]
[Stress]
"If we consider the timeline as a rope, then the nodes are knots. These knots may be the 'remnants' left behind by the observers who caused the timeline to collapse and altered past events. If this hypothesis is true, then the shape of the real timeline may very well be entirely composed of rope structures, and no matter how you travel through it, you can't escape the 'circles'."
"But that's too cumbersome. On a long timeline, every second of 'present' is followed by 'past,' and it's endless. How many observers would it take to naturally make the timeline so intricately knotted, without even a single second of gap?"
"Therefore, perhaps there is a mechanism similar to a stress response in the real timeline—for example, any spacetime bubble that escapes the current spacetime will fall into the 'circle'..."
Vaughn stopped writing at this point.
After thinking for a moment, he didn't continue writing, but instead started a new line and wrote a single word—
[destiny]
It is circled with heavy strokes and connected to the previous record.
If we were to find a definite concept for the stress response mechanism of space and time, in Vaughn's understanding, only "fate" best fits the bill.
And that's not all.
He recalled a conversation he had with Dumbledore about fate, during which Dumbledore said that no one can know for sure what fate is.
Before it becomes a reality, it can be unknown in a sense.
From Vaughn's current observations, fate does indeed behave in this way; sometimes it produces a definite outcome, but there are many ways to achieve that outcome, and more often than not, it doesn't actually have an "outcome."
For example, regarding the fates of Harry and Voldemort, the prophecy only revealed that one of them would die, without specifying whether it had to be Harry or Voldemort.
This contradicts the notion of a "fixed timeline".
More importantly—
"How should I explain my existence?" Vaughn pondered. "In the original Harry Potter world, I didn't exist at all. If the timeline of reality is fixed, then I certainly wouldn't exist, but the reality is that I am here."
"What happens when a variable that didn't exist before suddenly enters a fixed timeline? Dumbledore once said that he saw my fate interfering with the fates of Harry and Voldemort..."
After a moment's hesitation, Vaughn wrote in his notebook:
[Timeline collapse]
[Observer]
He stared at the word "observer," remained silent for a moment, then waved it away...
...
Harry lay curled up in his hospital bed all day.
People came to visit him one after another: Neville, Seamus, and other Gryffindor classmates he was close to, as well as Hagrid and other faculty and staff...
They didn't know what had happened to him, and Dumbledore didn't seem to say either; he simply asked for leave for him, Hermione, Ron, and Vaughn.
The headmaster seems to want to keep everyone from knowing what's happening in the world depicted in the painting for the time being.
Everyone was just wondering why the trio had all suddenly fallen ill (Vaughn's reason for taking leave was to receive the representative of Evamon), and even Professor Quirrell was sick.
They didn't see Harry—which Harry had specifically requested, as he didn't want to be disturbed right now—but they did see Ron, whose swollen head shocked everyone!
Although Ron tried to explain that his swollen head was due to a dangerous dark magic spell, Hagrid still managed to glean some information from Madam Pomfrey.
So in the afternoon, Harry vaguely heard students passing by outside the window talking amongst themselves—
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley contracted a terrible disease from playing with the feces of dangerous magical creatures.
Hermione was lucky not to be caught up in the rumors, because at lunchtime, many people saw her going to the restaurant to get her lunch.
Ron, stung by the potion, flew into a rage and threatened to go after Hagrid, until Madam Pomfrey held him down and forced him to drink a bottle of potion.
Harry ignored the noise and chaos around him, lying silently in bed, his mind a jumble of thoughts.
By evening, Ron, whose head swelling had begun to subside, also left. He had developed a psychological aversion to the school hospital and would rather return to Gryffindor and be watched by everyone than face Madam Pomfrey again.
When Ron left, he said he would come back to visit later and asked him what he would like to eat.
Harry refused.
He's feeling very confused right now, can't sleep, and has no appetite.
He just wanted to be alone and think undisturbed, so when night fell, he heard someone push open the door of the school hospital, walk to his bedside, and pull back the bed curtains.
He said impatiently, "I've already said I don't want to eat, you..."
Turning back, he suddenly stopped speaking. Under the bright moonlight streaming in from the window, the figure of Vaughn, who had suddenly grown taller this year and whose figure was vaguely showing signs of becoming more handsome, was reflected in his eyes.
Harry scrambled to his feet, bewildered. "I...I thought it was Ron..."
He looked at the bandages wrapped around Vaughn's body and the faint bloodstains seeping from them, and stammered, "You, your injury...didn't Dumbledore say it was fine?"
This doesn't look like something's wrong!
"It's a bit troublesome, after all, it was left by Voldemort, but it's not a big problem," Vaughn said with a smile, then gestured for Harry to get up: "Want to go for a walk together?"
"oh..."
After saying goodbye to Mrs. Pomfrey, the two left the school hospital and the castle one after the other.
Perhaps because it had rained enough in the past few days, the weather was quite nice today, with no sudden downpours or storms, and the sky was no longer covered with heavy clouds after nightfall.
The dark sky, like a black gem reflecting a faint light, hangs overhead; the moon is bright and the stars are sparse, a cool breeze is blowing.
Harry followed Vaughn closely, vaguely guessing why Vaughn had come to find him, and waited for the other to speak.
But even as they walked to Black Lake, Vaughn remained silent.
Harry could tell he was a little distracted, as if he was thinking about something else. After following him listlessly for a while, Harry couldn't help but ask first, "Vaughn, I heard from Ron that you defeated Voldemort?"
Vaughn snapped out of his daze, smiled, and first warned, "Be careful not to call Voldemort by his name in the future. His name is enchanted. It doesn't matter now, but if he ever comes back to life, calling his name will expose you."
"Well..."
Harry had indeed heard that people were afraid to call Voldemort by his name, and he assumed it was because people were afraid.
He nodded: "Oh, I've got it."
Very well-behaved.
Vaughn couldn't help but glance at it, which made him think again about the contradictions between fate and timeline.
In the nearly one year since he enrolled, he has more or less had a significant impact on Harry and brought about many changes, which were not present in the original Harry Potter series.
Shaking his head to clear his mind, Vaughn continued, "As for defeating Voldemort... sort of. At least for a while, you won't run into him again, unless he finds another fool willing to let him parasitize!"
"You mean, he's not dead?"
Harry recalled the nightmarish scene he witnessed before he fainted, where Vaughn pulled Voldemort's head off.
Can a person survive without their head?
Seemingly sensing his thoughts, Vaughn chuckled: "What died was Quirrell's body. Voldemort himself did not come back to life, so he did not die. He simply returned to his original form and continues to eke out a living in the dark jungle."
Harry couldn't understand what that state was like, but he didn't dwell on it. There were just too many things in the magical world that he couldn't comprehend.
So he quickly changed the subject and asked the question he had always wanted to ask:
"You and Dumbledore...why did you keep this from me? Why did you lie to me?"
Harry doesn't like deception; that's just how children are.
Seeing things in black and white, and failing to think things through properly and meticulously, sometimes lies and deceptions are not out of malice.
It could also be for protection, for example, when the truth is rather harsh.
Vaughn replied, "Deceiving and misleading you is Dumbledore's decision. He wants to test you. I don't think it makes sense, but he insists."
"Why test me? Is it because my fate is intertwined with Voldemort's? What does our fate truly mean?"
Harry asked a series of questions.
Vaughn stopped, looked at Harry, and after a long silence, shook his head and said, "I can't answer those questions for you. It's not the right time yet..."
"Then when exactly is it?" Harry complained. Dumbledore was like this, and so was Vaughn!
Why are they unwilling to tell the truth?
Harry thought dejectedly that he already knew what Vaughn was going to say next; it would be the same old Riddler stuff.
But to his surprise, Vaughn gave him the exact answer: "When you're as strong as I am now!"
Harry: "..."
This answer is worse than not saying anything at all...
"That's impossible!" Harry watched almost the entire battle between Vaughn and Voldemort, witnessing the incredibly skillful Apparition, the terrifying "Big Blast Curse" that blasted the hall into craters, and the masterful Transfiguration.
Harry felt that he might never be as good as him in his entire life!
Vaughn asked him, "Why do you think it's impossible if you haven't even tried?"
Harry was speechless.
"Only mediocre people subconsciously deny themselves when faced with challenges, subconsciously believing that they cannot do it."
Vaughn said slowly, "But in reality, all the denials and impossibilities are just because you think it's too difficult, you're just avoiding the difficulties. Why not think about it the other way around? If one day you can become as strong as I am today, I'll tell you anything you want to know!"
Young Harry didn't understand what "chicken soup for the soul" meant, but at that moment, he truly felt as if he had drawn strength from Vaughn's words.
At least Vaughn's last sentence left him with a lot to think about!
Although he didn't explicitly agree with Vaughn, he stopped worrying about whether he could do it and instead asked, "So, what can you tell me now?"
"There are quite a few, for example, why Voldemort died at your hands 11 years ago; and what role Snape played between you and Voldemort... You have many questions that confuse you, some of which are not so important, and I can tell you all of them!"
"Even if we can't tell you for the time being, it's not that Dumbledore and I are deliberately hiding anything or harboring any ill intentions. It's just that we feel your current strength is not suitable for you to know those things, understand, Harry?"
Harry's lips moved a few times, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated. After a long while, he slowly nodded: "I understand..."
Essentially, he wasn't afraid of the test; what troubled him was not knowing why he was being tested. Now, Vaughn made it clear: whether they designed the test for him or didn't tell him things, it was all because he wasn't strong enough!
A simple and direct answer, very much in Vaughn's style.
Harry exhaled, as if releasing the pent-up frustration of the day. Just like when he was learning Occlumency from Vaughn, he tried to put himself in Vaughn's shoes and suppress his own boiling thoughts caused by the lack of answers.
Then try to grasp the answers that are currently available.
"Tell me everything you can, Vaughn."
"Hmm... there are quite a few. Which one would you like to hear first?"
Harry pondered for a moment, "Let me first explain why I was able to kill Voldemort. In the world of the painting, I could sense his hatred and contempt for me. People say I killed him with a spell, but that's not true, is it?"
"That's right, what killed him was the protective charm your mother cast on you… Her name was Lily Evans, that was her name before she got married, you should remember that, Harry…"
On the tranquil shore of the Black Lake, the two walked further and further away, their voices fading into the gentle breeze and the vast night.
...…
"...Voldemort had been living inside Quirrell, and Quirrell always wore a large turban to cover Voldemort's face on the back of his head."
The next morning, Harry, who had tossed and turned all night unable to sleep, excitedly told his friends everything he had heard from Vaughn.
Ron, who was originally drowsy and in a daze, was immediately startled awake:
"Merlin, so we spent a whole year with Voldemort... with the Dark Lord? So every time Quirrell turned around to write on the blackboard, the Dark Lord was actually watching us from behind his turban?"
His face was so pale it was almost transparent.
Having just woken up and only managed to overhear a few words, Neville, his limbs curled up and breathing heavily, fainted with a "hiccup."
Fortunately, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finigan were both heavy sleepers and didn't hear this shocking news; otherwise, who knows what kind of chaos would have ensued in the dormitory.
Ron and Harry frantically carried the unconscious Neville back to bed. Ron, still groggy, washed his face and was pulled by Harry out of the dormitory. They walked to the courtyard, where the cool morning breeze made him realize he wasn't dreaming.
Ron's lips trembled as he asked to confirm, "Vaughn took care of him, right?"
"I suppose so," Vaughn said, "He's become a shadow again."
"Shadow? He's not dead yet?"
Upon hearing Ron's scream, Harry quickly recounted what Vaughn had told him the day before about the cause and effect of Voldemort's "death," as well as his current state.
Then he comforted Ron, who was crying, "Although he didn't die, he's in a worse state than if he were dead. Loneliness and pain are tormenting him every minute, and in that shadowy state, he can't do anything. Don't worry."
Ron felt no comfort: "But he will be resurrected someday..."
He recalled how he used to secretly throw chalk at Quirrell from behind in class, and how his sharp tongue in the fairytale town and the painted world caused Quirrell to be struck by lightning twice and breathe fire from a dragon once...
In a daze, he seemed to see his own end—