Chapter 127 Final Exams Are Coming
He didn't go in. Ravenclaw had a serious gender imbalance and too many little witches, so even as the headmaster, he had to avoid suspicion.
He knocked lightly on the door, and after a short while, the door opened from the inside. Vaughn, smelling pleasant, walked out of the Ravenclaw tower and greeted him cheerfully: "When did you get back?"
He acted as if he were the master of the castle!
Dumbledore was a little annoyed: "Darling, if I remember correctly, you should be a Slytherin, so why do you always like to go to Ravenclaw?"
"Don't be so serious!" Vaughn said with a smile, completely unconcerned. "Are there any school rules that prohibit students from different colleges from visiting each other? No, there aren't, are there?"
"Moreover, I've always felt that the practice of dividing students into colleges is unreasonable. Forcibly labeling students with college tags is very detrimental to the harmony and unity of the entire campus. Albus, you should thank me. I'm trying to help the school resolve this hidden danger!"
"...You're so shameless..."
"Thanks, you too." Vaughn replied with a smile, but didn't return to Ravenclaw. He knew that Dumbledore wouldn't come looking for him unless there was something wrong.
The two strolled leisurely along the dark corridor, the faint glow of magical flames flickering above their heads, casting long shadows.
For a moment, no one spoke; they all seemed to be enjoying the tranquility of the night.
After a long pause, Dumbledore finally spoke: "I have told Nico about your request."
"Oh, what did he say?"
"In principle, Nico doesn't want to take all his knowledge to his grave either. He's willing to teach you, but before you actually get to know him and establish a master-disciple relationship, you'll have to pass his assessment!"
"The specific project being examined is still uncertain, but based on my intuition, Nico will most likely be testing your thinking and imagination."
"I told him everything about the universe hypothesis you shared with me when you entered the ether. He was very curious about your path… You are on completely opposite paths, and he may want to verify your theory."
"..."
Early in the morning, Vaughn, who hadn't slept all night, sat on the sofa in the Slytherin common room, troubled by Dumbledore's reply from the previous day.
He didn't mind Nicolas Flamel conducting his so-called research.
After all, the knowledge belongs to the other party, and they have the right to propose conditions for teaching. He just didn't expect that Nicolas Flamel's assessment might be extremely difficult!
The Information Universe... is a novel understanding of the world and the universe proposed by Vaughn based on Muggle scientific theory combined with alchemy.
But frankly, it was just a brainstorming session and a brainstorming session!
Vaughn himself is still a novice in alchemy and currently has no ability to bridge two different knowledge systems and turn his ideas into practical theories.
Not to mention producing results based on theory.
"Sigh, I suspect he's deliberately making things difficult for me, don't you think? Fruit Tea?"
Lying sprawled out next to him, Guoguo Tea, who was snoring, opened her eyes.
Sensing the distress in its owner's sigh, it buried its large head in Vaughn's arms and rubbed against him.
"Meow~"
"So what if we don't learn it? That's fine, but it's a real pity. Once Lemaître died, the 'Golden Soul' lineage was broken. Now those useless alchemists can't even make a time-tamper, let alone a Philosopher's Stone."
"Meow?"
"Don't talk nonsense. How could I possibly curse my dear headmaster? You wicked thing."
Meow~
"Don't worry, there's still plenty of time. I heard from Albus that Nicolas Flamel had originally decided to stop taking the elixir of immortality, but now he has changed his mind."
"Meow?"
"Yes, he doesn't want to die anymore. He probably knows that his test is not realistic at the moment, so he didn't mention it at all and decided to wait another year. That's good, at least I still have a year!"
Vaughn was both a consolation to Guoguocha, who was worrying unnecessarily, and a consolation to himself.
There's still at least a year left, and he doesn't have to cram everything into this summer vacation; he can relax for a while longer.
Yes, the final three weeks before the final exams were a rare time of relaxation for Vaughn.
He had long since finished reviewing the written exams, not to mention the practical exams, so he was entitled to leisurely wait for the final exams to arrive.
For the other students, every day of those three weeks felt like hell.
Of course, relaxing doesn't mean ignoring everything. After waiting a while in the common room, Vaughn saw several upperclassmen who hadn't washed their faces or brushed their teeth, and were still sleepy as they carried their books into the common room.
Phil Travers was one of them.
The seventh-grader, who had openly declared his allegiance to Vaughn at the Quidditch championship dinner two weeks prior, was surprised to see Vaughn there. He managed to muster his courage and greet him, "Good morning, Mr. Weasley."
Good morning, Travers. How's your studying going?
"Sure, don't worry, I'll have no problem passing NEWTs." Phil Travers suppressed the urge to yawn, trying his best to appear presentable.
But the rumpled robe he had just thrown on after getting up, the large book tucked under his arm, and his sleepy expression were hardly convincing.
Vaughn didn't say anything, just nodded, then greeted the others and reminded them, "I've submitted your names to WAC. They'll be holding a recruitment fair at the school at the end of the month, so please make sure to promote it."
The group exchanged glances, but Phil Travers was quick-witted. Realizing that WAC's recruitment efforts might not go smoothly, he immediately replied, "Yes, Mr. Weasley!"
"Thank you for your hard work," Vaughn said casually.
Phil Travers was instantly energized.
As a result, news of the job fair at the end of the month spread throughout Hogwarts in just half a day.
...
In the afternoon, Harry and Ron heard the news at the library.
"I heard several Slytherin graduates went to the WAC," Seamus Finnigan said, a hint of fear in his expression. "Aren't they afraid of werewolves?"
Seamus's father was a Muggle, but his mother was a witch, and he grew up listening to scary werewolf stories.
His expression made Harry frown.
But before he could speak, Ron shouted, "So what if they're werewolves? With Vaughn's wolf poison, we don't have to worry about werewolves transforming and losing their minds anymore. I don't understand what you're afraid of!"
Harry stared at Ron in astonishment.
Seamus stared wide-eyed in surprise: "Merlin, you're actually speaking up for Vaughn? Don't you hate him the most?" His eyes were as if he were looking at a giant sitting in front of him.
Ron puffed out his cheeks: "I...I'm just stating the facts, it has nothing to do with Vaughn."
Simo remained noncommittal: "Of course I'm scared. It's normal to be scared. There are so many werewolves in the WAC. If one of them goes out of control and bites you, your life will be ruined!"
Seamus's words basically represent the mainstream opinion in the current magical world.
Everyone understands the effects of wolfsbane, but people always seek good fortune and avoid misfortune. The ferocious reputation of wolfism over thousands of years cannot be reversed in a short time.
Ron's anger won't solve anything.
He didn't even have the energy to pay attention to so much.
As time went on, the news that WAC would hold a recruitment fair at the end of the month only circulated in Hogwarts for a few days before fading into obscurity again.
With exam week fast approaching, the young wizard's attention is completely focused on studying. At such a young age, no one wants to become a laughingstock for failing an exam and having to repeat a year.
Everyone was immersed in the intense and stimulating studies, and the gradually accumulating psychological pressure caused pre-exam anxiety to spread once again.
On Friday morning, Harry and Ron were awakened by Neville's frantic screams—the poor fellow, clutching the glowing red memory orb, couldn't remember what he had forgotten.
Dean Thomas also suddenly burst into tears at night, wanting to go back to his home in Muggle society, go to Muggle high school, and never return to Hogwarts.
Harry and Ron struggled to drag Dean Thomas, who was already developing and had grown tall, into the school hospital.
Then they pulled him back—the school hospital was full of fifth and seventh graders!
As the end of the semester approached, these two grades were always the hardest hit by pre-exam anxiety, and Harry and Ron even met Wood at the school hospital.
He slumped listlessly in the corner of the bed, refusing to utter a sound no matter how Harry and Ron called him.
But when faced with their worried inquiries, Mrs. Pomfrey remained calm: "He'll be fine in a couple of days."
"Why? He looks terrible."
Mrs. Pomfrey said unsurprisedly, "Kids, it's certainly bad for someone to pretend to be crazy, but I think he'll eventually realize he can't escape OWLs, and in a few days he'll obediently go back to studying!"
As it turned out, Mrs. Pomfrey was very experienced.
Two days later, Harry and Ron met Wood again in the Gryffindor common room. Like other fifth-year students busy with their studies, he was engrossed in the drowsy book, *The History of Magic*.
Harry and Ron were happy that he was leaving the hospital and getting back on his feet, but Wood frowned: "What are you talking about? I've never been to the hospital!"
The other fifth-grade students around them all agreed:
"That's right, Wood has been with us the whole time and hasn't been to the school hospital."
"What a joke! You two must have gone crazy from studying too much. How could tough guys like us possibly skip studying?"
Yes, learning makes us happy!
That was the first time Harry and Ron felt fear about their upcoming fifth-year life. The pressure of the promotion exams was already immense. Just how terrifying were the OWLs to drive these seasoned veterans, who had already gone through four promotion exams, to the point of mental breakdown?
Of course, not everyone is trapped in hell.
For example, Vaughn—
Harry and Ron saw Vaughn more than once, dressed in an exquisite velvet robe, wandering around Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor.
His smile was as clear and sunny as the Scottish sky in early summer outside the window. He was surrounded by little witches who seemed to be laughing and chatting after the rain, which made him stand out from the other anxious, tense, and gloomy little wizards.
Or Hermione—
This top student's studies are equally demanding, but unlike others, she has already completed her first-year course and is now self-studying the second-year course.
"If I were you, I would use this time to have a good time. Aren't you tired of reading all these books?"
As Ron uttered those words with envy, jealousy, and resentment, he was taping his eyelids shut to prevent them from closing uncontrollably while he was reading.
Beside him, Hermione waved her wand, practicing the "Stop Curse" gesture.
"What's so fun about Hogwarts? We should study instead," Hermione replied, focusing intently on correcting her movements.
Ron urged her, "Go find Vaughn, silly girl. Haven't you noticed? He's been going to Ravenclaw every day to pick up girls. Aren't you worried? I noticed a girl named Cho Chang, she's really pretty!"
Nearby, Harry, who was reciting his text from memory, paused, his expression sullen.
Hermione dismissed it: "He just likes hanging out with girls, I believe him." Then, she glanced at Ron: "Ronald, don't try to sow discord between me and your brother, I'll tell him."
"Foolish little girl, I'm worried about you. You have no sense of crisis at all. You don't appreciate my good intentions. Do you think that just because Vaughn invited you to his house for the summer, you'll be a Weasley?"
Hermione's face flushed crimson, and she stammered, embarrassed and annoyed, "What nonsense are you talking about? Who...who wants the Weasley name..."
She couldn't sit still any longer, so she hurriedly packed her schoolbag and fled.
After "driving" Hermione away, Ron was smug: "I knew she was shy."
Harry ignored his inexplicable boasting and asked instead, "Is Hermione coming to your house for summer vacation?"
"Yes, I only found out last week when I received a letter from my mother." Ron pouted. "Mom was so excited, she practically treated Vaughn like a hero. She said that out of all his brothers, only Vaughn was the first to bring a girl home. She was so proud of him that she wouldn't even call him by his name in her letters to me, instead calling him 'sweetheart' or 'darling' and stuff like that, tsk…"
Harry didn't notice the underlying sourness in Ron's dismissive tone; he was simply envious: "Vaughn is so good to Hermione. Sigh, I'll have to spend the summer at those awful Dursleys' house..."
Ron then remembered that Harry's living conditions weren't good, and he said very generously, "You can come and play too, Harry. I invite you. Mom will be very happy, and Ginny too. She's always been very curious about you!"
Harry looked somber. "I can't go, Ron."
"Why?"
"The magic I have, Vaughn told me, is an ancient spell that my mother cast on me. One of the rituals that maintains it is that I must stay with my blood relatives… My only remaining relative is Aunt Petunia. Even though I don't like her, I have to stay at the Dursleys' house for a period of time every year."
Ron was speechless for a moment, then suddenly became excited and patted Harry's shoulder hard: "You can't leave, but I can come to you!"
"What?"
"I can come to your house to play with you, Harry. Anyway, I don't want to see Vaughn and Hermione all lovey-dovey all the time. It gives me nightmares. How about I just stay at your house?"
this...
Harry's heart skipped a beat. One of the main reasons he hated going back to the Dursleys was that going home meant leaving his playmates, leaving his friends Ron, Vaughn, and Hermione.
He hated being locked up alone in the storage room...
Wait, the storage room!
Harry suddenly remembered where he lived and blushed with embarrassment. That dirty, cramped place was really unsuitable for entertaining friends.
Just as he was pondering how to politely decline, two hands slapped heavily on his and Ron's shoulders, accompanied by two teasing voices:
"Where are you going to stay, little Ronnie?"
"Could it be that our dear younger brother can no longer bear the excellence of his older brothers and his own mediocrity, and is preparing to run away from home?"
Ron was furious: "Fred! George! Damn it, stop calling me by my nickname!"
The twins didn't care whether he was angry or not; they laughed and ruffled Ron's hair, making Ron furious.
After joking around for a while, they sat down next to Harry.
Harry hadn't seen the twins for a long time, and nobody knew where they were hiding all day, but it certainly wasn't to hide away and study.
They are also among the few students who don't worry about exams.
When Harry asked about their whereabouts, one of the twins raised an eyebrow: "Of course, we're busy with our own business, a business that will blow the minds of ignorant wizards!"
Ron grumbled on the other end, "Is it going to be something about generating electricity again?"
He vividly remembers being electrocuted and having to stay at the school hospital last time.
The twins chuckled and said, "Ignorant little Ronnie, we suggest you show respect to your older brothers to avoid future regrets."
"Hehe, it's too late. I heard that Little Ronnie has been bragging about fighting a fire dragon for a while now. Maybe we should let everyone see the truth?"
"Oh—bad George—but I like it, though isn't it a bit too disgusting?"
"You're too kind, Fred. We need to teach little Ronnie the price for offending us!"
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, suddenly having a bad feeling.
Harry asked cautiously, "Fred, George, what are you talking about?"
The twins winked at him: "Didn't you already guess, Harry? We told you before that we'd make a movie about you, and now it's done!"
"The title is already chosen: 'Harry Potter: The World War II of the Dark Lord'!"
"Perfect pairing with Ron Dragon's Lair!"
"yeah--"
The twins clapped and cheered.
Harry was dumbfounded, while Ron's face turned green...
Harry found Vaughn later.
"You...you placed a camera in the world of the painting?" He asked, his face flushed. "Why didn't you tell me? You...you didn't ask for my permission!"
As the evening breeze at Black Lake grew warmer, Vaughn turned a page and expertly shifted the blame: "That was Dumbledore's decision, Harry."
Don't try to fool me!
"It's true. He wants to film Voldemort. You know, many people in the wizarding world think he's dead, especially the Ministry of Magic and our dear Minister Fudge. Nobody wants to believe the Dark Lord is still alive. If Dumbledore wants to convince them, he has to show them the evidence."
Harry didn't quite understand: "Why don't they want to believe it?"
Vaughn shrugged: "Because of politics, if the Dark Lord is alive, someone needs to deal with him. Who in the wizarding world is the Dark Lord's match? Of course, it's Dumbledore. If they believe the Dark Lord is alive, it means they have to make concessions in exchange for Dumbledore's force. The Minister and some people in the Ministry of Magic don't want anyone to stand in their way."
Although he still didn't understand, it sounded so reasonable that Harry immediately believed it.
He hesitated for a moment, then asked hesitantly, "Then, can you cut Ron and me out? I heard from Fred and George that you've been having them edit the film... Could you please not have us in the film?"
"no!"
Vaughn casually turned another page, offering a curt refusal.
Harry slumped his shoulders: "Why not?"
"It's not that I disagree, Harry, it's Dumbledore. He needs the whole story as evidence—Voldemort wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone to resurrect himself, and then you, Hermione, Ron, and I stopped him together. Everyone was indispensable, and everyone had their moment in the battle. This gives people confidence!"
No!
Only you and Hermione have the highlight moments!
I got completely thrashed, but Ron fared even worse!
Harry wanted to complain, but faced with Vaughn's reasonable explanation, he could only feel more frustrated and unable to say anything.
Nobody wants their embarrassing past to be turned into a movie and watched by everyone.
Even someone as shameless as Ron wouldn't agree.
Ron was extremely annoyed by Harry's failure: "He lied to you, you stupid Harry! I don't believe it was all Dumbledore's idea, I bet you do!"
"Just watch, he wants to see us make a fool of ourselves, no, he wants to see me make a fool of myself!"
Harry thought Ron was too extreme. That was Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts. Who would dare to blame him?
Ron responded with a cold laugh.
He mocked Harry for being too young and having no idea how audacious some scoundrel could be.
Harry was annoyed by his words: "Then go find him yourself, Ronald. Think about it carefully, why should I refuse? It's not like I'm serving a dragon's poop..."
Ron quickly covered his mouth.
At Ron's pleading, the two quickly put aside their feud and reconciled, then shared their worries—Vaughn implied that the so-called "Harry Potter: World War II - The Dark Lord" and "Ron's Adventures in Dragon's Lair" would probably be released soon.
Faced with the imminent collapse of their society, what should they do?
In the days that followed, many young wizards noticed that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had suddenly become strange and eccentric.
Wherever students gather, their furtive, lurking figures will appear.
What are you watching? Is it a movie?
Have you seen any movies recently?
This became the question the two asked most often.
That's not all. According to Neville, Ron's roommate, he heard Ron suddenly wake up crying in the middle of the night, begging everyone not to watch the movie anymore.
Everyone felt that the heavy pressure of final exams and the upcoming exam week had completely overwhelmed the savior and his followers.
This became a delightful little episode in the otherwise tedious review process.
Finally, the clock struck mid-June, and the third weekend of June arrived. The weather wasn't great that day; the Scottish Highlands, now officially in summer, were anything but cool. The sweltering heat was suffocating and made people irritable.
The dark clouds gathering on the horizon seemed to weigh heavily on the young wizards' hearts as well.
When Harry woke up early on the weekend morning, he heard a commotion outside. When he went to the dining hall with Ron and Hermione, he learned that the examination team sent by the Ministry of Magic had arrived at Hogwarts.
Over the next week, they will be hosting the OWLs (Ordinary Wizard Level Exams) and NEWTs (Ultimate Wizard Level Exams), respectively.
Harry noticed that the fifth and seventh year students sitting around the long tables of the four houses were so pale they were almost transparent, looking like rows of ghosts.
Soon, at breakfast, Harry met the team of examiners sent by the Ministry of Magic.
They were wizards dressed in purple robes, led by a thin, small old witch.
Dumbledore, whom they hadn't seen in a long time, and Vaughn, too, were dressed in purple robes and accompanied them.
Although the old witch looked thin and bony, her voice was very loud. Even from a distance, Harry could hear her exclamation: "...It all seems like it happened yesterday, Dumbledore. This Great Hall is still the same as it was when I presided over your graduation exams. Nothing has changed. You did a great job."
Harry gasped, exclaiming in surprise, "She presided over Dumbledore's graduation exams? Then she... then isn't she older than Dumbledore?"
Ron said in a low voice, "Of course, that's Mrs. Marchban. She's been in charge of the NEWTs exams for at least 120 years. My mom, dad, Bill, and Charlie all graduated from her classes."
Why are they wearing purple robes?
Ron didn't need to answer this question; Hermione already knew: "That's the symbol of Wizengamot. You really should brush up on your common sense, Harry."
Harry then remembered that Vaughn and Dumbledore were also members of the Wizengamot.
The arrival of the examiners made the atmosphere around the fifth and seventh graders at the long tables in each college even more oppressive. Students in other grades were also affected and dared not play around or speak loudly as usual.
Everyone ate quietly, occasionally stealing glances at the examiners at the head of the table, then looking on with envy at Vaughn Weasley as he chatted and laughed with them.
In the afternoon, Hogwarts held a rare long lecture on the weekend. Students from each grade took turns appearing in a very spacious classroom, and all the professors were present. Professor McGonagall, who was presiding over the lecture, became increasingly serious.
"The exam will officially begin tomorrow. I'll go over the important points again now. First, cheating is absolutely forbidden. The school will provide quill pens and parchment to prevent cheating. You are not allowed to bring your own. If you are caught cheating, you will be punished accordingly..."
Sitting in the audience, listening to the strict rules, Harry finally realized that the exams were really coming, and his first year was about to end!
...
Early in the morning, Vaughn got up, washed, and changed into a brand new robe.
When I stepped outside, the Slytherin dungeon, which was usually deserted at this time of day, was bustling like a market.
The students from all grades crowded into the narrow corridors between the dormitories and the common lounge with a huge bay window, which resembled an aquarium.
Everyone was making the most of the last moments, trying their best to memorize the key points for the exam. A cacophony of whispers filled the air.
This scene wasn't unique to Slytherin; in fact, the situation inside the other three house towers today was almost identical to that in Slytherin.
Yes, final exams will begin today.
The young wizards' tense and anxious mood made the air at Hogwarts heavy, as if all joy had vanished in the face of immense pressure.
When Vaughn encountered Hermione, Harry, and Ron in the restaurant, the trio had tense faces and, like the other young wizards around them, were clutching their books, preparing for battle.
Vaughn didn't bother them, and he also disliked the stuffy atmosphere in the restaurant, so he just grabbed some food and ordered fruit tea to eat by the Black Lake.
After finishing breakfast, I wandered around for a while longer when the bell rang in the ancient castle of Hogwarts—the first exam was about to begin!
The exams were conducted in batches. Except for the fifth and seventh grades which had separate exam rooms, the other grades basically shared several large classrooms. A week earlier, Professor McGonagall had led the prefects to unlock a closed corridor on the fourth floor of the castle.
The large classrooms that serve as the examination venues are concentrated in that corridor, and Professor McGonagall had already instructed the prefects to convey its location and the examination arrangements to everyone during yesterday's pre-exam pep talk.
This morning was mainly for the first and second grade exams. When Vaughn arrived on the fourth floor, the spacious corridor was already bustling with activity. The young wizards, dressed in plain robes, were scattered and crowded in front of an open wall.
The exam room is behind that.
Several suits of armor and statues, with their weapons crossed, blocked the entrance.
Professor McGonagall was also there, and she held her wand to her throat, speaking in a loud voice: "First-year students, line up on my left! Don't mess around... Fred! George! Didn't you hear me? If you don't want me to disqualify you from the exams and make you repeat the year, you'd better behave yourselves!"
After chasing away the twins who were laughing and causing trouble in the first-year class, Professor McGonagall saw Vaughn and quickly waved to him: "Vaughn, come here."
Vaughn approached Professor McGonagall and said hastily, "Darling, I need to search these little ones for cheating devices. You and Argus will help me."
Argus, who is Filch, the custodian of Hogwarts, is standing behind Professor McGonagall with a large burlap sack in his hand, glaring menacingly at the young wizards!
"Okay, Professor."
Vaughn didn't seem to mind being drafted and agreed, casually asking, "Professor, are there students who cheat on exams every year?"
"Yes, it's a persistent problem!" Professor McGonagall pursed her lips seriously and waved her wand. "Despite my repeated warnings before each exam, there are always some audacious individuals who take their chances… Oh—"
The professor's wrinkled face drooped, and Vaughn noticed that as she waved her wand, the robes of several young wizards at the front of the line began to shake violently.
Among them were Malfoy and his two henchmen.
"ha!"
Filch excitedly grabbed the bag and ran over, yelling at Malfoy, "Give it to me!"
"you..."
Malfoy's face turned red, but when he saw Vaughn smilingly approaching, he didn't dare to utter a sound, or even show a disapproving look.
She simply glared at Filch, lifted her robe, and tossed the few quills and parchment, which were bouncing around under Professor McGonagall's magical influence, into Filch's open pocket.
Chapter 128 End of First Year
Seeing another pile of cheating devices found, Professor McGonagall's face grew even more grim: "I'll emphasize again, any act of cheating in an exam will have serious consequences, and could even result in expulsion... This is your last chance, don't blame me for not warning you!"
Soft rustling sounds.
More and more people lifted their robes, giving Vaughn a real eye-opener.
In the crowd, Harry and Ron stared wide-eyed:
"Where did they get all this stuff from?"
Why didn't anyone tell us this?
In front of the two, Seamus, with a bitter face, reluctantly pulled out a bottle of unlabeled, suspiciously labeled potion, and replied, "You two are with Granger all day long, who would dare tell you? Look, Granger looks like he's about to explode with anger!"
Hermione was indeed furious; she hated such underhanded methods the most. As a result, Gryffindor was the house that had the most cheating devices found in the crowd!
Professor McGonagall was also in a bad mood.
Vaughn, who was in charge of the search, remained in a good mood throughout the incident. The young wizards were coming up with all sorts of bizarre and wonderful gadgets to cheat with, leaving him dazzled. He wondered where these guys had gotten them from.
Unfortunately, all those little schemes were completely wasted and were nipped in the bud before the exam even began.
Because many people brought cheating devices, the first exam started a few minutes late, but overall, everything went smoothly.
At 9:15 a.m., first and second graders were placed in the large classrooms that served as examination rooms. This area, which had been closed off for the entire year, made the already hot and anxious summer air feel even more oppressive and stifling.
Compared to upperclassmen who already have elective courses, first and second-year students only have seven compulsory courses in total. The first day's exam is in the morning for Charms and in the afternoon for Transfiguration. Both exams are divided into written and practical parts. The written exam has a fixed time of one hour, while the practical part has no strict rules. Students just need to successfully cast a spell according to the requirements of the professor.
After the exam began and anti-cheating quills and parchment were distributed, Vaughn stopped paying attention to the other young wizards, focused on finishing the questions, and then handed in his paper.
Professor Flitwick, who was in charge of proctoring the exam, glanced at the paper and smiled slightly: "Mr. Weasley, I'm glad to see that you haven't neglected your studies. Your brilliant answers and mature insights into the spells learned this year have impressed me... Alright, now it's time for the practice. I'm sure you'll pass, but that's the procedure, and you have to finish it!"
He winked and joked, handing over the proctoring duties to Professor McGonagall, while he himself led Vaughn to another classroom.
In the empty classroom, there was a pineapple. The practical exam was to use a spell to make this pineapple tap dance across a desk.
Professor Flitwick did not arbitrarily increase the difficulty of the exam because Vaughn's spells were more advanced; in his words, there was no need.
"All the professors know that your abilities far exceed your age. If you weren't a freshman, I and the other professors would definitely recommend you to skip a grade."
"Is it possible to skip grades at Hogwarts?"
"It's rare. Yes, it has happened before, but that was many years ago. It would be quite troublesome to implement because it doesn't comply with regulations. However, forcibly suppressing your learning progress would be unfair to both you and the other students... But that's a matter for next year or the year after. Now, let's complete the spell study practical exam."
So, Vaughn manipulated the pineapple into performing a tap dance. To enhance the performance, he even conjured a pair of dance shoes from the pineapple leaves so that the fruit could strike a clear rhythm.
Professor Flitwick listened with rapt attention and immediately gave him a perfect score!
Harry had no idea how he got out of the exam room.
His mind was a complete blank, just like when he first mastered the Occlumency technique.
From the very first day of Charms and Transfiguration, his mind was forced into this state, and the second morning of Herbalism was no less challenging.
However, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was passed easily because the professor was "missing"—the temporary examiner, Professor Kettleburn, casually brought over a few Flobber caterpillars and asked everyone to subdue them.
This magical creature, which the Ministry of Magic would barely give an "X" to, is inherently lazy and can fall asleep on a handful of grass. It is so harmless that you don't even need magic to subdue it; a single punch will suffice.
But perhaps all his good luck was used up in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, because this morning's Potions class felt like hell for Harry.
Whether it was the written test or the practical test, Snape stood behind him the whole time, and he could almost feel Snape's breath on the skin on the back of his neck!
Criticism and nitpicking during this period are naturally unavoidable.
Fortunately, those agonizing days are finally over!
Harry glanced back at the semi-transparent, drowsy Professor Binns in the classroom and shook his head.
The history of magic was the final exam, and like astronomy, it didn't require practical application, so it was concentrated on the afternoon of the third day.
After answering the bizarre question about the invention history of the automatic stirring crucible, walking out of the examination room marked the complete end of the exam!
Next, they had a whole week to play and wait for the results.
This was undoubtedly good news, but Harry was completely dispirited, as were the other young wizards; the three days of exams had drained everyone's energy.
When Harry found Ron, Ron's red hair seemed to have lost its luster, and he leaned listlessly against the window in the corridor.
"Hey, Harry."
"Ron."
The two greeted each other listlessly, then stared blankly at their equally blank-minded classmates in the corridor as they slowly drifted past.
After a while, they finally saw Hermione, but this member of the trio ignored her two good friends and instead linked arms with Vaughn, chattering away:
"...It was much simpler than I imagined. I thought the establishment of the WAC would make the school test the impact of the werewolf code of conduct published in 1637 on the subsequent werewolf situation, but it didn't."
"Professor Binns is quite old, and his grasp of the current situation may not be as timely."
Vaughn smiled: "If this question were really asked, how would you answer it?"
"I can..."
They walked past Harry and Ron, arm in arm, talking.
The two were unsurprisingly ignored.
Harry: "..."
Ron clutched his head: "Merlin, those two really are a perfect match. I'll never understand how someone could complain about not doing well on the test and then create their own questions afterward, especially during their date!"
"...This might be why they do well in school and we do poorly... Uh, should we do a review too?"
"No, I feel like throwing up!"
Ron refused decisively; he didn't want to recall the exam content, much less recall it with Harry.
With one member of the trio missing, Harry and Ron became increasingly listless. They sat there blankly for a while until Filch started shooing people away to make room for the fifth-year students. Only then did the two stagger out of the corridor and follow the crowd into the sunny courtyard.
Then go through the gate, down the slope, and walk to the edge of Black Lake.
For several days during the exams, the weather was sunny and clear. The intense sunshine filled the Scottish Highlands with the feeling of midsummer, which is usually a lazy time.
From the distant forbidden forest came the incessant chirping of cicadas. A gentle breeze swept across the Black Lake, making its surface shimmer. A giant squid lay in the shallow bay, lazily playing with its tentacles, creating ripples.
Perhaps it was the wind, or perhaps it was the open view, that made Ron feel a little more relaxed. He plopped down on the grass, stretched out his legs, and let out a long sigh: "Finally free! Cheer up, Harry! Think about it, for the next week we don't have to think about anything, and we don't have to hold those huge books and get dizzy from reading anymore. We can play to our hearts' content!"
Harry asked, bewildered, "Where are we going? What are we going to do?"
"..." Ron was stumped. He sadly realized that his mind had not escaped the horror of reviewing and taking exams at all, and he had even lost the ability to imagine what to do.
When I try to think, my mind is filled with spells and problems!
If only he could be as carefree as Fred and George.
Those two guys, who had just finished their exams, even had the leisure to tease the giant squid!
Harry also saw in the distance the twins teasing squid tentacles with a twig on the shore of Repulse Bay. He stared at them for a while, his expression gradually becoming strange.
When Ron turned around, he noticed his expression: "What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Ron... Fred and George have been busy editing lately, haven't they?"
"Yeah," Ron replied casually. "We were worried before, but we haven't heard from them for a long time. The editing probably isn't going well. Hmph, Muggle stuff isn't so easy to master. My dad spent years fixing Muggle cars…"
Harry wasn't in the mood to listen to Ron's story about Arthur's rivalry with Muggle cars. His voice was hoarse as he said, "Before, they were so busy with editing that they rarely even showed up to study. For the first three days, they rushed off after each exam, but now... Ron, they actually have time to tease that giant squid..."
"Hmm? So what? Maybe they're just relaxing because they just finished their exams."
Harry neither confirmed nor denied Ron's statement.
Many people say that twins are unruly and irresponsible, but in Harry's mind, these troublemakers are actually very focused people, especially when it comes to things they are interested in.
Those two guys would never be so relaxed if they didn't finish their work or produce results!
"We're doomed, Ron!"
Harry said in a complicated tone.
Harry's words proved prophetic.
Early the next morning.
Having just finished their exams, their biological clocks hadn't adjusted yet. Just like the past few weeks, they woke up automatically in the early morning. Unable to fall back asleep, the young wizards groggily arrived at the dining hall, only to see a huge silver curtain erected at the end of the long tables of each house.
Several strange-looking Muggle machines floated in mid-air, connected by oddly shaped "tape" and wires. At the very center was the largest machine, from which a beam of light shone, projecting onto a silvery-white screen and illuminating it.
The pure-blood wizards from wizarding families were confused, but the half-bloods and the young wizards from Muggle families recognized them immediately.
"That's a movie screen!"
Dean Thomas pointed at the silvery-white curtain and shouted.
Justin Finley, a Muggle-born boy who always boasted that he should have gone to Eton College, was a step too late. He could only point to the machines floating in the air and shout to the Hufflepuffs around him, "They're generators, cameras, and projectors! Good heavens, I thought I'd never see them again!"
He looked excited and shouted to the twins standing beside the silver screen, "Fred, George, are you going to show a movie?"
After waiting for ages, I finally found someone who knows what's good for them.
Fred immediately responded loudly, "That's right, this...this..."
"His name doesn't matter, Fred." George chuckled and jumped onto the Gryffindor table, calling out to all the young wizards who were looking over, "Dear students, you must have missed the Weasley twins a long time, right? To be honest, we've missed you all very much!"
"Who misses you guys? Hurry up and get to what you need to do!"
Some jerk interrupted them, and the twins, after scanning the room several times without finding anyone, simply pretended not to hear and continued, "But all separations are meaningful, all for the sake of the awe-inspiring moment of reunion."
"Yes, it's amazing! Your dear Fred and George are no longer obsessed with the petty pranks of the past. We have a greater ideal, and we have been fighting for it for two whole months!"
"Those were undoubtedly painful and lonely days, but as with long separations, pain and loneliness are also meaningful, and the greatest art is usually born from these two."
"Classmates, friends, please allow us to showcase the fruits of our labor, produced by Weasley Films, starring Harry Potter and Ron Weasley—"
The twins shouted in unison, "The first movie in the wizarding world, Harry Potter and the Painted World!"
As soon as they finished speaking, the two waved their wands, and the machines floating in mid-air immediately started operating.
The spotlight on the screen flickered a few times, and amidst the gasps that suddenly erupted in the dining hall, Harry's familiar, short figure with black-rimmed glasses appeared before everyone...
...
Harry woke up a little late today.
He tossed and turned until very late last night before finally falling asleep.
Knowing what was troubling him, Ron comforted him along the way: "Think positively, Harry. Dumbledore hasn't announced anything about the trials yet. The exams are over, and nobody knows what happened to Quirrell. Maybe he doesn't want anyone to know about the world in the painting."
"That's entirely possible, Merlin. If everyone knew that Void… I mean, that the Man of Mystic is still alive, then…"
As they spoke, they had already reached the restaurant. Just as they pushed open the door, they heard a series of gasps and cries:
"Professor Quirrell!"
"A mysterious person?"
"Mom—Dad—"
Amidst the cacophony of noise, the two who had just pushed open the door were frozen in place, watching as the throng of people completely blocked the view of a huge screen at the end of the restaurant's long table.
On the screen, a disheveled "Harry Potter" stands on a stone bridge, confronting Professor Quirrell, who is wearing a hood.
"Harry Potter!"
A venomous whisper drifted from the speakers floating in mid-air.
The next moment, the scene changes, jumping to a dragon's nest.
The young wizards watching immediately started making a fuss:
"Fred! Change the photo quickly!"
"Idiot, movies aren't photographs, they're film reels. These kinds of shot transitions aren't because the film has finished rolling, they're editing, they're montage."
"I don't care about film reels or montages, I want to see Harry and the Man of Darkness, Merlin's beard, is that really the Man of Darkness? So last time Harry was hospitalized, it was because of the Man of Darkness... Oh my god!"
"Look, it's Ron!"
"And a fire dragon!"
roar--
The fire dragon that suddenly appeared on the screen roared loudly, making the air in the entire auditorium (which also served as a restaurant) seem scorching hot.
The arguing that had been going on in the crowd immediately subsided, and everyone stared intently at Ron and the dragon on the screen.
A few hushed whispers were exchanged, their tone uncertain:
"Ron said he swelled up all over because he fought a fire dragon. Is that true?"
"But isn't it said that he was killed by fire dragon dung..."
Harry, who was staring blankly at the screen, suddenly felt his arm being gripped tightly. Turning his head, he saw that Ron's cheeks were as red as his hair, his lips were trembling, and he was covered in sweat.
"Quick, hurry, Harry!"
Harry wanted to laugh, but deliberately said, "Why are you leaving? I want to see you fight the dragon!"
Ron grabbed his friend's arm tightly and pleaded, "I was just bragging, please, let's go, there's nothing to see."
Seeing that he was on the verge of collapse, Harry couldn't bear it and had no choice but to leave the Great Hall quietly with Ron.
As they returned to the corridor, they heard a huge, disapproving roar coming from the auditorium:
"Huh—"
Ron dared not stay any longer and ran away, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
...
Eighth floor, principal's office.
The magical light in Dumbledore's eyes gradually faded. He shook his head and smiled bitterly: "Poor Ron, being your, Fred's, and George's brother is the greatest misfortune of his life."
Beside the huge bookshelf in the office, Vaughn, flipping through an old notebook, didn't even look up: "You gave me permission to show the film, don't even think about excluding yourself, Albus."
"I didn't give permission, I just didn't object."
"Tch!" Vaughn curled his lip, too lazy to argue with this shameless old man, and changed the subject: "How was the audience's reaction?"
"It's not bad, but many Muggle-born young wizards continue to hold onto the perceptions they have in Muggle society, and seem to think that what is being shown is a movie, a fictional story."
"That's exactly what we're after. What the magical world needs right now isn't a sudden revelation of the truth. The truth will only plunge everyone into panic. The most appropriate way is for everyone to gradually accept it."
Dumbledore nodded, agreeing with this as well.
Concealing the fact that Voldemort still exists in the world is undoubtedly wrong, and the wizarding world should no longer indulge in the current false appearance of peace.
But revealing the truth rashly would have too great an impact.
That's why he agreed to let Vaughn film the trials and show them to everyone. Even the "dragon's nest" plot that could have led to Ron's death was part of this consideration—the "plot" of Harry confronting Voldemort was too exciting and needed a comedy to ease things up.
Thinking about it, he sighed again: "It's just a pity about Ron, he sacrificed so much..."
Vaughn remained noncommittal: "You underestimate Ronald."
...
Harry avoided people all day long.
Especially in the restaurant area, the twins kept showing "movies," and the enthusiastic audience practically took over the entire first floor.
Ron has also disappeared. He hasn't been seen since he left the dining hall that morning. Harry tried to sneak back to his dormitory and also went to Hagrid's hut, but he couldn't find him.
Then, as evening fell, he suddenly reappeared—
When Harry found Ron, he was standing in the courtyard, his head held high, a far cry from his morning shame, looking around at the young wizards who were teasing and joking around him.
"Yes, I did encounter some unpleasant things, but that was because the dangers I faced were beyond the capabilities of a student... You! If you encountered a fire dragon, what would you do?"
The upperclassman, whose nose Ron was pointing at, was stunned.
Ron didn't even wait for his answer: "Can your spells do anything to a dragon's scales? Or are your legs faster than its wings? Or do you have any magic that can stop a dragon's breath?"
The barrage of questions made the older student's face turn red and then white.
The dragon is a magical creature of the XXXXX level. It usually takes several adult wizards to subdue a single dragon. He is still a student, and even if he has the thickest skin, he wouldn't dare say that he can defeat a dragon.
He could only force a defense: "At least I wouldn't sacrifice my dignity to help a fire dragon clean up something just to survive..."
"Nonsense!"
Before the older student could finish speaking, Ron roared, interrupting him: "Useless courage is just foolishness. Does a dragon have the morality of a wizard? No, it's just a beast. It attacks you to survive. Similarly, your counterattacks, escapes, and attempts to please it are all just simple survival strategies, and have nothing to do with your dignity or thoughts!"
"I really don't know what kind of education you received. Is survival something to be ashamed of?"
His righteous words left the Gryffindor upperclassman's eyes darting around. He instinctively felt that something was amiss, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.
The young wizards who had been watching the commotion were also stunned, their playful expressions gradually fading, and their initial disdain disappearing.
Although I couldn't understand it, I was deeply moved!
Ron raised his head even higher, almost looking down his nose at people: "Yes, I have cleaned up dragon droppings, and I am not ashamed at all, but proud—because I did not die when faced with a raging dragon, but survived by using knowledge, wisdom and wit. I want to ask you, who can do that?"
The surroundings were completely silent.
Several young wizards, including Neville, had even begun to look at Ron with admiration!
In the distance, Harry, who was furtively watching the situation in the courtyard, also gaped in surprise.
this...
This was truly an unexpected turn of events for him...
Not to mention Harry, even Dumbledore didn't expect that Ron, whom he thought was dead, would become a star in Gryffindor that very night!
That night, when he called Vaughn to discuss serious matters, he remarked, "I always thought Mr. Weasley was rather... simple-minded, but I never expected him to be so adaptable and sophistical."
Vaughn shook his head: "That's not sophistry, Ron really thinks that way."
"Um?"
"Well…" Vaughn thought for a moment, "He's been bullied by me, Fred, George, and me for so many years, you know, that's a lot of psychological pressure, so Ron learned to interpret bad things from a different perspective very early on, and he's very convinced of his own interpretation!"
"..."
This passage has so many flaws that Dumbledore didn't know where to begin.
Shaking his head, he stopped dwelling on it and got down to business: "That Josiah Potter representative from Ilfamoni has officially submitted an invitation to the Ministry of Magic today, inviting you to visit North America on August 1st."
"The International Department of Magical Exchange and Cooperation and Wizengamo have both agreed, and the invitation will be sent to Hogwarts tomorrow."
"It seems that Mr. Porter took my advice to heart and conducted a thorough investigation into me. The WAC will hold its first plenary meeting at the end of July, and he has set the invitation date for August 1st... I suppose my title is not written on the invitation letter?"
"Vaughn asked with amusement."
Dumbledore nodded: "Yes, he should have found out that you will be running for president of the WAC, but he is not sure if it is true. Perhaps he still thinks that you may be a puppet I support."
As he spoke, Old Deng chuckled.
Political animals are all like this; they always use their rigid logic to judge everything. They never believe that a person can have other ideals and pursuits besides politics and power.
Vaughn said calmly, "It's just a matter of habitual thinking. It's not that they can't see the cooperative relationship between you and me, it's just that they can't understand why the great Dumbledore would be willing to support a child. What kind of exchange of interests is behind it?"
"Yes, mediocre people can never understand the foresight and tacit understanding of intelligent people," Old Deng sighed, then asked, "How do you plan to reply?"
"No need to reply for now. Let's wait until the WAC meeting at the end of July, when everything has settled down, and then I'll write back and mention my request."
Isabella Rozier?
"Yes, she's still stuck in North America." Vaughn said, frowning slightly. He had lost contact with Isabella again recently.
Across the vast Atlantic Ocean, news from the Americas was already difficult to reach England, especially given the turbulent situation there.
Looking at the troubled Vaughn, Dumbledore smiled and stroked his beard: "I still remember her, a very clever and beautiful little girl, and from the Rosier family, no wonder you..."
"That's enough!" Vaughn interrupted him. "She and I are just friends. She was the first apothecary to support my potion theory. We share the same interests, that's all."
"I didn't say anything, let's discuss it!"
"You're full of filthy thoughts." Vaughn rolled his eyes, too lazy to deal with this old geezer, and got up to leave. "I've already communicated with the werewolves about running for WAC president. It's up to you now. I think you should understand that the werewolves won't recognize anyone else."
"Honey, are you threatening me?" Old Deng asked with a smile.
Vaughn said calmly, "It's just stating the facts."
Dumbledore knew, of course, that the werewolves currently only trusted Vaughn, and even though he didn't want Vaughn to get involved in power, for the time being, he could only accept this outcome.
Thinking it over, he sighed inwardly, "Don't worry, nothing unexpected will happen."
Nodding slightly, Vaughn prepared to leave, but then, remembering something, he turned back: "By the way, would you like to make another deal?"
"Oh? What kind of deal?"
Dumbledore picked up a candy and asked casually.
Vaughn smiled, but his golden-brown eyes remained as calm as a still pool.
"Resurrect Tom!"
Snap!
Dumbledore's withered fingers trembled, and the candy fell.
Old Deng quickly realized what was happening, drew his wand and waved it, causing the portraits around him, which had suddenly fallen silent upon hearing Vaughn's words, to fall asleep.
Then he looked at Vaughn, his eyes darting around.
Ghosts cannot be killed, nor can remnant souls!
If possible, Dumbledore would certainly not want to cruelly entrust the heavy responsibility of defeating the Dark Lord to a child like Harry.
Since last summer, when he sensed the remnant of Voldemort's soul in Quirinus Quirrell, Dumbledore has been searching for ways to completely destroy Voldemort.
He searched through all sorts of documents, notes, and even evil black magic.
But it was all useless. Those who are already dead cannot be killed again, just like the ironclad law of this world, at least in the current knowledge system of the magical world.
To kill Voldemort, you have to bring him back to life first!
This is a rather tricky choice. On the one hand, as a person with a conscience, facing a villain as wicked as Voldemort, not only is it impossible to carry out justice, but it is also dangerous to resurrect him. This is a very absurd and frustrating thing.
On the other hand, he couldn't figure out how to arrange Voldemort's resurrection.
Voldemort was a very cautious person.
Last year, with the help of Vaughn's analysis, Dumbledore found traces of Voldemort wandering in the primeval forests of Albania.
Large numbers of dead rats, snakes, and even beetles and cockroaches!
They all bore the marks of being parasitized by dark magic, a shocking sight that left Dumbledore deeply impressed by Voldemort's caution and forbearance.
Having lost his power, the Dark Lord also lost the will to trust others. Like a wounded beast, he would rather curl up alone in a corner and lick his wounds than expose his weakness to anyone, not even his former servants!
Seeing Dumbledore's dazed expression, Vaughn continued, "You've been struggling with how to resurrect Tom, haven't you? The Philosopher's Stone was probably the solution you came up with last summer, but you hesitated at the last minute because you hadn't yet found the answer to why Tom hadn't died."
Dumbledore did not speak.
But silence itself is an answer.
Vaughn was right; he borrowed the Philosopher's Stone from Nicolas Flamel not originally as a tool for Harry's trials.
At that time, he spent a month searching through all the books in his collection but could not find a way to kill the remnant soul. The only possibility was to revive the remnant soul and then kill it.
And indeed, as Vaughn said, after borrowing the Philosopher's Stone, he hesitated again—
It's obvious logic that if Voldemort didn't die 11 years ago, then even if you kill him a second or third time, he probably still won't die.
Something saved him from death.
It was around that time that he began to carefully observe the fates of Voldemort and Harry, and ultimately decided to put Harry to a trial, using the Philosopher's Stone as bait.
Until a month after the start of the school year last year, on a night just like tonight, Vaughn came to him and said:
"Let's make a deal!"
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