The last heavy rain before winter swept across the Scottish Highlands in early October, drenching Hogwarts in sheets of icy water.
It was the night of Slytherin's practice match.
Oliver Wood sat alone in the empty Quidditch stands, robes plastered to his skin, staring blankly into the pitch as if hoping the rain would drown his despair.
Everyone knew Wood saw Slytherin as Gryffindor's greatest enemy—
the final, immovable obstacle between him and the long-dreamed Quidditch Cup.
And he truly believed that with Harry as Seeker, Gryffindor finally had victory within reach.
Until Vaughn Weasley stepped onto a broom.
After witnessing Vaughn's effortless performance, Wood's last thread of sanity frayed.
Harry almost felt guilty for existing.
From that day forward, Wood's training regime intensified into pure madness.
If not for the last few functioning brain cells holding his morality together, he would have cancelled classes entirely and run Quidditch practices from dawn to midnight.
The result?
Harry was utterly miserable.
Not only did he have mountains of homework, now he had four practices a week.
By mid-October, a sleep-deprived, hollow-eyed Harry finally bumped into Vaughn in the corridor. Vaughn had disappeared straight after classes nearly every day, immersed in research.
Vaughn nearly flinched at Harry's face.
"What on earth happened to you?" he asked.
Harry looked like he might cry on the spot.
"Homework. Practice… Don't the Slytherins train too?"
"Three nights a week," Vaughn replied calmly. "Any more and performance drops."
"Lucky. I mean—Flint looks scary and thick-headed—but he actually understands that?"
Vaughn did not respond.
Because Flint absolutely did not understand that.
That training schedule was Vaughn's idea.
Flint had rejected it—
until Vaughn disarmed him three times in a row and offered to "repeat the demonstration."
After that, Flint stopped objecting to anything Vaughn suggested.
Unexpectedly, having a stupid team captain came with perks.
Flint couldn't out-duel Vaughn, so he obeyed silently.
And during matches, he made a perfect scapegoat anytime the other Houses accused Slytherin of cheating.
"Anyway, Harry," Vaughn said, adjusting his cloak, "did you need something? If not, I'm heading out. Busy day."
He wasn't exaggerating.
For weeks he had been holed up in Snape's office, using the Magical Essence Extraction Method to analyse different materials.
And it was brutally difficult work.
Even after extraction, many magical plants and creature parts retained residual magic that Vaughn had to avoid disturbing. Progress was slow and painfully meticulous.
But Harry grabbed his sleeve before he could escape.
"Nicolas Flamel!"
"…You still care about that?" Vaughn blinked. "You look two hours away from collapsing."
Harry gave a sheepish smile.
Vaughn sighed, pulled a Chocolate Frog from his robe, and placed it in Harry's hand.
"Remember the first time we met? You and Ron were going through Chocolate Frog cards. Nicolas Flamel was on one of them."
Harry froze.
Then, like he'd been struck by lightning, he bolted toward Gryffindor Tower.
Vaughn shook his head fondly, ate a quick dinner, and made his way back to Snape's office.
Snape's Office — Evening
Professor Snape had been in oddly good spirits lately.
Perhaps watching Harry suffer through Wood's hellish training soothed his soul.
Perhaps he genuinely enjoyed having someone intelligent to discuss magical theory with.
Whatever the reason, he wasn't shredding essays with homicidal precision, nor summoning students just to berate them over missing commas.
Vaughn entered with a polite nod and immediately moved to his workstation.
He picked up a piece of aconite, pressed the tip of his wand to it, and channelled a thin stream of magic into its structure.
In his other hand, a quill scratched rapidly across parchment.
He was mapping the reflected image forming in his mind—its internal arrangement, magical currents, and potential properties.
Classifying every last nuance to guide future research.
Time blurred.
When Vaughn finished, it was already 6 p.m.
"Good evening, Professor," he said, rising to leave.
Snape's voice stopped him.
"Weasley—"
"It's Vaughn, Professor."
Snape swallowed irritation.
"Vaughn… Quidditch season starts next month. First match is against Gryffindor. How's your team looking?"
"Not bad," Vaughn said thoughtfully. "Flint plans to assign two players to target Harry. Brutal tactics. Very Slytherin."
Snape's eyes gleamed with cold satisfaction.
Vaughn continued, but Snape no longer cared about Quidditch.
His gaze drifted to the aconite sample on the desk.
"You've been studying aconite for weeks," Snape said. "Are you using it as the base of your next potion?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Hmph. A highly toxic substance," Snape muttered, irritation thinly masking concern.
"When you finish your analysis, write a paper and submit it to me."
Vaughn smiled.
He was curious how Snape would react
when he discovered the true purpose
behind Vaughn's aconite research…
Great Hall — Later That Evening
Vaughn wandered to the Ravenclaw table, as usual.
The girls there were always gentle and considerate—exactly what he needed after hours of dissecting magical toxins.
He had just begun chatting with Cho Chang—
When Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived.
"Vaughn—"
Harry abruptly froze upon seeing Cho beside Vaughn.
"H-hello… I—I'm H-H-Harry…"
Cho smiled politely.
"Harry Potter. There isn't a person alive who doesn't know your name."
She waved lightly at Vaughn.
"We'll talk later."
Harry stayed rooted to the spot even after she left.
Ron elbowed him.
"Oi. Stop staring."
Harry jolted back to reality—
only to see Vaughn smirking knowingly
and Hermione eyeing him with suspicion.
Flustered, Harry coughed hard.
"Vaughn—thanks for the hint. We figured out what Dumbledore's hiding in the castle."
He lowered his voice dramatically:
"It's the Philosopher's Stone."
Vaughn didn't even blink.
Ron gaped.
"You're not surprised?! It's the Philosopher's Stone—from children's books!"
"I know exactly what it is," Vaughn replied calmly. "The moment you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, that was the only logical conclusion. It's his greatest achievement."
"But—it can turn any metal into gold!" Ron sputtered.
Vaughn gave him a long, pitying look.
"Ronald Weasley… I'm already making money selling potions. How is that any different?"
Ron looked crushed.
He shrivelled like a salted slug.
Harry hurriedly rescued him and changed the subject.
"Vaughn, Hagrid wants to see you."
Hermione added quickly:
"Sorry—we had to tell him you also knew about Flamel."
Vaughn blinked.
"Alright. When do we go?"
He realised then:
In all his time at Hogwarts, he had never once visited the Forbidden Forest.
An oversight, indeed.
(End of Chapter 36)
PS :
Aconite (Wolfsbane) – Dangerous magical plant with complex toxic structure; base of Vaughn's new research.
Cho Chang – Ravenclaw student; Harry's first canon crush.
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