Three weeks passed in a blur.
Inside the Room of Requirement, the cluttered "Room of Hidden Things" had transformed into a quiet, elegant study. Bookshelves lined the walls, overflowing with abandoned notes and second-hand spellbooks from generations of students. A tall enchanted window showed a roaring thunderstorm outside, though the room itself remained warm and soft under the glow of the fireplace.
Vaughn closed the heavy tome in his lap and rubbed his eyes.
"System."
[Host: Vaughn Weasley]
[Magical Power Index: 438]
(Average adult wizard: ~500)
[Talents]
Charms: 7
Dark Arts: 6
Transfiguration: 8
Potions: 10
Herbology: 6
Divination: 2(Max: 10)
[Spells Learned]
Occlumency LV5 (MAX)
Obliviate LV0 (0/2)
Confringo LV0 (0/2)
Disillusionment Charm LV0 (0/2)
Vanishing Spell LV0 (0/3)
Sectumsempra LV0 (0/3)
Scarpin's Revelaspell LV0 (0/4)
Patronus Charm LV0 (0/4)
Fiendfyre LV0 (0/5)
…and countless others.
[Potions Known]
Cheering Potion, Strengthening Solution, Veritaserum, Wit-Sharpening Potion, Love Potion, Baruffio's Brain Elixir, Polyjuice Potion…
[Renown Points: 22]
Vaughn blinked.
"Already three weeks?"
Since receiving Snape's approval to borrow from the Restricted Section, he had been living like a hermit—class, studying, more studying, and then collapsing in the Room of Requirement every night.
But he was finally at a stopping point.
He tossed the book aside, stretched the stiffness from his shoulders, and eyed the long list of newly unlocked spells.
Some of these he could've only dreamed of learning in his past life.
Spells like Confringo and Obliviate were tightly regulated. The Ministry tracked every learning permit unless learned inside an institution like Hogwarts.
Beyond legal magic, there were "wild wizards":
werewolves without papers, foreign hedge-witches, Knockturn Alley criminals, and unaffiliated dark wizards scraping by.
Not all dark wizards were Death Eaters.
Most were simply desperate, uneducated, or opportunistic.
Still, their world was dangerous—full of liars, thieves, and hex-happy lunatics willing to kill over a Knut.
And without Snape's endorsement, Vaughn would have had to rely on exactly that sort of crowd just to access real spellbooks.
The most shocking part?
Snape had even authorised him to borrow An Introduction to Dark Magic.
A book that, in theory, should not exist.
It contained low-level jinxes and curses…
But the final page had clearly been added by hand:
Sectumsempra
Vulnera Sanentur
Fiendfyre
Vaughn didn't need Sherlock Holmes to guess which former Death Eater had scribbled those in.
No Unforgivable Curses, thankfully—Vaughn was in no hurry to spiral that far.
Investing in Growth
He stared at the System interface.
"So many spells… too many."
If he tried mastering them through traditional practice, he'd graduate before finishing half.
The most efficient approach was clear:
—Choose one or two spells
—Spend Renown Points to boost them
—Bring them to Apprentice or Proficient level
—Refine through practice
But…
"Only 22 points… not enough."
Still—
He knew exactly where to invest them.
Without hesitation, Vaughn poured all 22 Renown Points into Scarpin's Revelaspell.
The spell upgraded instantly:
Scarpin's Revelaspell → LV2 (10/16)
Perfect.
For potion theory, for analysis, for breaking down magical structures—this was invaluable.
Mastering it would accelerate his potion research and, eventually, his ability to mass-produce products to harvest Renown Points steadily.
At this early stage of his magical career, investing in his strengths was the only smart option.
Testing Revelaspell
Vaughn uncorked a vial of Scurvy-Cure Potion, poured it into a small glass, and flicked his wand:
"Revelaspell."
His vision shifted instantly.
Colors rose from the potion in distinct layers—reds, greens, blues—each representing a different component essence. The swirling spectrum hovered like a blooming magical flower.
A strange intuition tugged at his mind:
He could unravel it.
Dissect it.
Undo the potion's entire structure.
He raised his wand again.
Slowly, the potion reversed:
From shimmering blue…
to separated essences…
to crude components once more—
snake fangs, dried nettles, and the rest.
The original materials weren't whole, but the potion's binding had been dismantled.
He dumped the result into a disposal jar.
"Useless after that. Revelaspell can break a potion… but not re-forge it."
Still, his eyes gleamed.
"What a fascinating piece of magic. I wonder how Scarpin ever invented this…"
Probably through insane amounts of trial and error.
Shame the man had been dead for hundreds of years.
Vaughn cleaned the glassware, stretched, yawned, and made his way toward the exit.
"Tomorrow," he murmured, "I start designing original potions."
He already had several ideas brewing.
Time to cause a stir.
A Surprise in the Corridor
Vaughn stepped out of the Room of Requirement.
And immediately ran face-first into—
Albus Dumbledore.
Wearing a lavender dressing gown.
And a fluffy nightcap.
Standing in the corridor
as though he'd simply wandered by
on a midnight stroll.
"Ah—Mr. Vaughn Weasley," the Headmaster said cheerfully.
"Good evening! Off to the loo, are we?"
Vaughn stared.
"…?"
Dumbledore beamed as if the question were perfectly sensible.
"You found it too, did you? A most curious room. I've been at Hogwarts for over a century and walked past this hallway dozens—oh, hundreds—of times.
Then, one night, in rather urgent need of a lavatory, a door appeared!
Inside—why, the most magnificent collection of chamber pots I've ever seen."
Vaughn resisted the urge to sigh.
This old fox is pretending to be a fool again.
He bowed politely.
"A truly miraculous room, Headmaster.
But no—I wasn't here to relieve myself. I'm still young, after all."
Dumbledore chuckled.
"Ah yes, the perks of youth. Still, you should try it someday. Surprisingly refreshing."
"Maybe when I'm your age," Vaughn said pleasantly. "I've finished the research I needed. I'll be focusing more on potion development and my own magical theories now.
So I likely won't use this room much in the near future."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled like mischievous stars.
"Severus speaks very highly of you, you know. 'A potions prodigy in Slytherin,' he says."
"All thanks to your guidance, sir—and Professor Snape's support."
"Excellent. Then, good night, Mr. Weasley."
"Good night, Headmaster."
Two foxes—one silver, one still growing his tail—smiled politely and parted ways, each pretending their meeting was pure coincidence.
The corridor darkened behind them.
But neither, for a moment, believed the other.
(End of Chapter )
PS :
Fiendfyre – Extremely dangerous, sentient magical fire; one of the darkest curses.
Sectumsempra / Vulnera Sanentur – Dark curse and its corresponding healing counter-chant.
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