A Patronus was, in many ways, the clearest proof that a wizard possessed a healthy mind—and a functioning moral compass.
Those corroded by Dark Magic, or who indulged in it long-term until their thoughts became nothing but cruelty and obsession, could never conjure a Patronus.
Because the sanctuary in their hearts was already gone.
That was precisely why Vaughan had chosen to prioritize the Patronus Charm.
Not only was it notoriously difficult, but it also served as an unmistakable sign.
At the very least, it put Albus Dumbledore at ease.
When Vaughan left the Headmaster's office, he carried with him a thick tome:
A Stroll Through Memory Magic: Past and Present
The title was unnecessarily poetic.
The author was almost certainly a Ravenclaw.
Vaughan didn't even wait to return to his dormitory—he began reading as he walked back to Slytherin.
The book provided a comprehensive overview of Memory Magic: its origins, evolution, and every known spell related to memory in the modern era.
Beyond spells Vaughan already knew—Memory Charms, Occlumency, and the Legilimency he wanted to master—it also detailed:
False Memory Charms
Dream Charms
Nightmare Inducement Spells
It even explored branches of magic in other disciplines that relied on memory.
In Alchemy alone, it referenced Pensieves, Remembralls, enchanted portraits, and self-writing quills. While the book didn't explain how to make them, it carefully documented the role memory played in their function.
One passage, discussing advanced Transfiguration, made Vaughan pause.
"Even high-level Transfiguration requires memory.
To turn a non-living object into a living one is, in essence, to implant memory—
using false recollections to imitate a true soul."
Vaughan slowly flipped back to the book's opening page.
Written in elegant script were the words:
"Memory is the garment of the soul."
When he'd first seen it, he'd dismissed it as Ravenclaw-style literary indulgence.
The soul…
His interest in the book deepened.
The next day, even while researching potion ingredients with Severus Snape, Vaughan kept the book close at hand.
The moment Snape spotted it, he froze.
"…Where did you get that book?" Snape demanded. "If you already had it, why did you ask me for one last time?"
"Oh?" Vaughan looked surprised. "So the memory-magic book you promised me over the summer was this one? This copy was a gift from Dumbledore."
Snape's face darkened instantly.
He was almost certainly cursing Dumbledore internally for saying one thing to his face and doing another behind his back.
Vaughan had suspected it already—Snape's "I'll give it to you during the summer" likely meant he was trying to persuade Dumbledore first.
Vaughan smiled sweetly.
"Well then, Professor… shouldn't our arrangement be adjusted?"
Snape's eyelid twitched.
"The Quidditch season is about to begin," he snapped. "Talk to me after you defeat Potter."
Vaughan stared at him.
"…Professor, you're not planning to go back on your word, are you?"
"..."
After enduring Vaughan's silent gaze for ten full seconds, Snape finally turned on his heel and stormed away, robes billowing.
Adjust the terms?
At this rate I'll end up teaching him Dark Magic.
Absolutely not something he dared agree to casually.
Vaughan, meanwhile, was unconcerned.
He continued working alone in the dungeons—studying materials, reading when tired. Unfortunately, memory magic required a living subject to practice.
But that problem solved itself rather quickly.
And the subject was extremely grateful.
That night, Vaughan met Harry Potter in the Room of Requirement.
Harry had received Vaughan's letter and slipped out in secret.
The moment they met, Harry blurted out, "Vaughan, thank you—really. For helping me so late. Without you, I—I don't even know…"
After only a single day apart, the Boy Who Lived already had darker circles under his eyes—nearly as bad as during Oliver Wood's brutal training weeks.
He was clearly terrified.
"It's fine, Harry," Vaughan said casually. "That's what friends are for."
Then he looked at Harry expectantly.
"Shall we begin?"
"…Already?" Harry asked blankly.
He obediently sat down opposite Vaughan.
The Room of Requirement had been deliberately configured to be comfortable—a luxurious lounge with leather sofas and thick wool carpets that softened every step.
Memory magic didn't damage surroundings, and a relaxed environment would help Harry loosen up.
Naturally, it also made Legilimency easier.
Vaughan would never admit that was the main reason.
Sitting upright, book in one hand, Vaughan spoke calmly:
"Harry, before we start, I need to explain something. Learning Occlumency is extremely difficult. To speed things up—and help you escape Dark Magic's influence as soon as possible—I'll need to use Legilimency on you throughout the process."
He looked up.
"Do you know what Legilimency is?"
Harry answered honestly, "I'd never heard of it until you mentioned it this morning."
"Excellent."
Harry: "…?"
"Ahem—I mean, that's a good answer," Vaughan said smoothly.
"Simply put, I'll be invading your thoughts and memories—manipulating them, playing with them. Your task is to feel that process. Don't resist, don't flee—cooperate actively. Understood?"
That was the simple explanation?!
At words like invading, manipulating, and playing with, Harry began to tremble.
If this was the simple version, he didn't want to hear the detailed one.
He desperately wanted to ask if quitting was an option.
It clearly wasn't.
Dark Magic was far scarier than embarrassment.
So Harry straightened his back.
"All right," he said bravely. "Let's do it, Vaughan."
Perfect target, Vaughan thought with approval.
He raised his wand.
The first attempt failed—as expected.
Neither of them was disappointed.
After two more failures, Harry even relaxed a little.
Maybe today I won't get… "played with."
Unfortunately, that was exactly when Vaughan succeeded.
"Legilimens."
In that instant, Vaughan felt a part of his consciousness entwine with magic and sink into a viscous, illusory space.
Mist rolled endlessly before him.
Within it, fragmented scenes flickered—every single one from Harry's perspective.
Vaughan saw himself raising his wand.
Harry walking through corridors.
The Gryffindor common room.
Ron and Hermione at his side.
Harry's memories lay completely exposed.
Even his dreams—
A hazy, pink-tinted dream where he gently took a girl's hand.
"NO!"
A distant, furious shout echoed through the space.
Vaughan's consciousness was violently expelled.
He snapped back to reality.
Harry's face was burning red—redder than a baboon's backside.
(To be continued)
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