When Vaughan opened his eyes that morning, his chest felt unbearably heavy—so heavy he could barely breathe.
He lifted the blanket and found Guo Guo Cha, his enormous cat, sprawled squarely across his chest. The cat's eyes were half-closed in bliss, warm and fluffy, radiating absolute comfort.
"Good morning, you little menace," Vaughan muttered. "Sneaking into my bed again."
"Meow~"
Guo Guo Cha answered sweetly, purring as he rubbed against Vaughan's chin.
After indulging the oversized cat for a while, Vaughan finally got up. By then, sunlight had already spilled across the Black Lake. His dormitory sat high enough that the lake's surface was barely ten meters below.
Thin beams of pale sunlight pierced the frozen lake, refracting beneath the ice into hazy ripples of light.
Vaughan had gone to bed late the night before.
Not because facing Voldemort had left him too excited to sleep—but because he'd been carefully reviewing their brief confrontation, analyzing just how bad Voldemort's current condition really was.
The conclusion?
Worse than expected.
"Without unicorn blood, Voldemort is probably sustaining himself by draining Quirrell's life force. That's why the moment Quirrell cried for help, he rushed out so desperately."
"He's afraid… afraid of losing his last loyal servant. Afraid his resurrection plan will collapse."
Though the figure he'd faced last night had been twisted and terrifying—its magic vast, the Killing Curse horrifying—Vaughan could still sense the weakness beneath it.
When Voldemort cast Avada Kedavra, he hadn't even had the strength to replace Quirrell's Protego, allowing Vaughan's Sectumsempra to punch straight through.
And the instant Albus Dumbledore drew near, Voldemort hadn't dared waste a single second.
"To think the Dark Lord who once terrified the entire wizarding world has fallen this far…" Vaughan sighed softly. "Fate really is merciless."
After washing up, Vaughan stayed in the bathroom and summoned the system interface.
Today was November 1st—the day his monthly Prestige (Fame) Points were settled.
[Host: Vaughn Weasley]
[Magic Capacity: 444](Average adult wizard: 500)
[Talents]
Charms 7 | Dark Arts 6 | Transfiguration 8 | Potions 10 | Herbology 6 | Divination 2 (Max: 10)
[Spells]
Occlumency LV5 (MAX)
Protego LV4 (0/16)
Expelliarmus LV3 (2/8)
Confringo LV1 (0/4)
Disillusionment Charm LV1 (1/4)
Disapparition LV0 (2/3)
Patronus Charm LV0 (0/4)
Sectumsempra LV1 (0/6)
[Potions]
Elixir to Induce Euphoria, etc.
[Prestige Points: 6]
Seeing the number 444, Vaughan clicked his tongue.
"Unlucky number…"
He skipped over his extensive spell list and focused on the Prestige Points.
"Six points… so it only went up by one this month?"
He wasn't sure what had caused it.
It was unlikely to be his Potions reputation—since enrolling at Hogwarts, he hadn't released any new concoctions. His previous habit of selling potions every half month had slowed significantly, though fortunately, reduced output didn't hurt reputation growth.
"Is it because I joined the Slytherin Quidditch team? Or because of the troll incident? Or both?"
Unfortunately, Prestige calculations weren't transparent.
The system offered no breakdown.
After a moment's thought, Vaughan stopped overanalyzing and spent the points.
He invested 4 points into the Patronus Charm, pushing it to LV1 (0/8).
Then 1 point into Disapparition, raising it to LV1 (0/6).
The final point he saved for next month.
He deliberately avoided investing in Scarpin's Revelaspell. At LV3, it required a massive 32 points to max out.
Six points would barely make a dent—and LV3 was already sufficient for potion research. Further progress could be achieved naturally through repeated use.
As for why he chose the Patronus Charm and Disapparition—
It was simple.
They were extremely difficult.
Over the past month, Vaughan had repeatedly hit walls with both spells.
The Patronus Charm demanded a pure, positive emotion—one must immerse themselves fully in happiness.
It sounded easy.
It wasn't.
First, purity itself was a hurdle. Human minds generate stray thoughts constantly, and those impurities interfere with a Patronus' formation.
This part wasn't a problem for Vaughan. His mental discipline was strong enough to isolate emotions at will.
The real issue was positivity.
Vaughan was a transmigrator.
In his previous life, he'd been an adult—ground down by mortgages, pressure, and responsibility. If asked to complain about life, he could go on for days.
But to recall genuine happiness?
Aside from exhaustion and resignation… there wasn't much left.
It wasn't that happy memories didn't exist.
They simply weren't strong enough.
Not strong enough to summon a Patronus.
After days of stagnation without progress, Vaughan had shelved the spell entirely.
Now, looking at the newly unlocked LV1 Patronus Charm, he raised his wand.
"Expecto Patronum."
There was no resistance.
No struggle.
As the incantation left his lips, long-buried memories—once dulled by time—rose vividly from the depths of his mind.
Childhood scenes.
Sitting on his father's shoulders. Nestled in his mother's arms. Running with classmates beneath a sunset sky. Confessing to the girl he loved for the first time.
They surged forward, growing bright and alive.
Warmth. Joy. Attachment. Passion.
And then—his memories from this life followed.
Like pages stirred by the wind.
Arthur Weasley.
Molly Weasley.
Ginny Weasley.
His first trip to Diagon Alley.
His first touch of magic.
The first pet of both his lives.
Past and present resonated together.
The memories intertwined with magic, flowing through his body, down his arm, and into the wand.
At the tip—
light gathered.
White mist spilled outward, drifting, stretching—then bursting.
Radiance bloomed.
A soft, ethereal sound rang out.
From the swirling light emerged a semi-transparent, blue-white Maine Coon, its long tail leaving trails of mist as it leapt gracefully through the air.
It landed softly on the floor.
"Meow."
It looked up at Vaughan.
Vaughan stared back—and felt something cool on his cheek.
He raised a hand.
His fingers came away wet.
Tears.
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