Vaughn did not lose sleep over his "chance meeting" with Professor Dumbledore.
He wasn't naïve.
Their harmless chat about "magical toilets" was nothing more than the Headmaster's gentle probe — a test — to see whether Vaughn would posture, panic, or bend.
He chose none of the above.
He simply declared his goal openly:
"I just want to study potions. Please don't bother me."
A perfectly reasonable boundary.
And one Dumbledore had tactfully accepted.
There was a saying from Vaughn's past life:
"A gentleman can be deceived through righteousness."
Dumbledore might not match the modern sense of "gentleman,"
but for all the conspiracies people once attached to him, one thing was undeniable:
He always operated within rules.
Within structure.
Within the framework of Order.
He didn't intimidate, coerce, or flex his magical power to dominate others.
He nudged, guided, and steered — using human nature itself — to achieve the outcomes he believed necessary.
That restraint had been forged through tragedy:
Ariana Dumbledore, his younger sister, dead in Godric's Hollow.Gellert Grindelwald, once a beloved friend, turned into his greatest adversary.And most haunting of all — Tom Riddle, the brilliant child whom Dumbledore once tried to overawe with displays of power… only to set him on a lifelong obsession with dominance.
There were surely nights during Voldemort's rise when Dumbledore regretted the path he helped create.
Vaughn understood this.
He neither feared Dumbledore nor resented him.
The old wizard was dangerous — undeniably — but predictable.
Voldemort?
There was no dealing with him.
If Tom Riddle had been waiting outside the Room of Requirement,
Vaughn would've drawn his wand and
run.
Because Vaughn respected people who obeyed rules…
Even if he didn't always follow them.
Flexible morality, rigid logic.
A Conversation with Snape
The next morning, Vaughn sought out Professor Snape.
After recounting his meeting with the Headmaster, he added, tone utterly serene:
"Professor, the Headmaster is a good man."
Snape's expression twitched — just slightly.
He couldn't tell if Vaughn was being sarcastic, delusional, or genuinely earnest.
Knowing Vaughn, all three were possible.
But today, Snape had other things on his mind.
Rather than meeting in his dungeon office, he chose the edge of the Quidditch Pitch as the venue.
The Scottish Highlands had plunged into early winter.
Rain crashed sideways across the air.
Wind screamed like a trapped banshee.
Yet the Gryffindor Quidditch team was training.
Oliver Wood looked half-drowned and wholly possessed by madness.
His enthusiasm was terrifying.
His team resembled corpses.
Harry — shivering violently, glasses sliding down his nose, soaked to the bone — looked seconds away from freezing solid.
Ron and Hermione huddled under the stands in rain cloaks, watching their friends suffer through Wood's tactical ranting.
Against this miserable tableau stood two dry figures:
Snape and Vaughn, protected by Waterproofing Charms and Bubble-Head Charms.
They stuck out like two extremely judgemental umbrellas.
"Do you SEE them?!" Wood bellowed through the storm.
"Slytherin sent their Head of House AND their strongest student to SPY on us!
Are we going to let them MOCK us?!"
"Harry! Shout something! Show Slytherin your FIRE!"
Harry:
"G-g-g-g-g—" (teeth chattering)
The Twins:
Fred: "What are they spying on? Harry turning into a popsicle?"
George: "Wood's cracked. Since the 'secret weapon' plan failed, he's been talking like a troll that got hit by a Bludger."
Angelina Johnson, clutching her broom with frozen fingers, screamed:
"WOOD! If you don't stop, I swear I'll curse you into a woman and FORCE you to experience rainy-period days for the rest of your life!"
The entire team:
"…."
Snape hummed approvingly.
"Foolish team. Foolish Potter."
Vaughn ignored the Harry commentary — he'd heard Snape's Potter rant enough to tune it out automatically.
Instead, he asked brightly:
"Do you enjoy Quidditch, Professor?"
Snape didn't blink.
"It's a stupid sport."
"Then why bring me out here?"
Snape's left eyelid twitched.
He did not answer.
Instead, he asked slowly, voice deliberate:
"You've finished the books I assigned.
When do you intend to resume refining your magical extraction theory?"
Vaughn shook his head.
"Not yet, Professor. I'm shifting focus for now — I want to brew several advanced potions first. I need to internalise the ritual complexities before attempting ingredient-level experimentation."
Snape considered this.
"The Headmaster mentioned you intend to create original potions."
"I do. Perfecting magical extraction will require time.
Each ingredient has multiple magical attributes — some known, some unexplored.
If I want to design a universal model, I must catalogue every single one of them."
He continued calmly:
"That means identifying each property, their extraction conditions, their interplay, and any new attributes that emerge when combined."
Snape's expression did not change, but a spark of interest glimmered behind his eyes.
Vaughn spoke as though listing grocery items:
"And even after extracting everything, I won't know their functions.
Some traits don't appear in any existing potion.
So I need new potion development to verify how these unknown attributes behave."
Then, with quiet certainty:
"I plan to devote my life to magical extraction, Professor.
But until I can present a finished theory, I need concrete results.
New potions will validate the framework — and move the research forward."
Snape remained silent, unreadable.
Rain hammered against the shield of magic around them.
Finally, he exhaled.
A single, grumbling judgement:
"Foolish bravery."
Followed, after a beat:
"…But not arrogance."
Vaughn grinned.
"I've always believed in aiming high —
but taking each step properly."
PS :
Bubble-Head Charm – Spell creating an air bubble around the caster's head to protect against water or fumes.
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