Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world

Chapter 117 Time Converter

Amidst the roar of his brain, Ron seemed to return to a few months ago, to the hazy images of his past self reflected in those memories.

In the scene, he flicked a small dragon's head with his finger, and in the face of the dragon's anger, he and Harry laughed happily.

Beside him were Vaughn's words of dissuasion:

"...Dragons hold grudges very much..."

And then there was Malfoy's annoying, yet now seemingly sincere, warning:

"If I were you, I would never try to provoke such a monster..."

What were their responses at the time?

"We're going to send it away anyway, so let it come back to Hogwarts and seek revenge if it dares to!"

As Ron's consciousness was gradually engulfed by blankness, he suddenly wished that time could go back to the past, or that he could delve into his memories and grab his past self from a few months ago to give Harry a good beating!
Two idiots!

In his final moments, Ron heard Nobeta let out a loud "ga ga ga" sound, a sound filled with the exhilarating and satisfying satisfaction of finally getting revenge...

…………

The forest in the painting looks a lot like the Forbidden Forest.

The tall trees, the deep shade of the forest, and the moisture exhaled by the dense plants were as thick as the fog on a morning before rain, covering the body heavily, and in the blink of an eye, the clothes were half wet.

Of course, there are also differences.

For example, in this forest, the water mist will not dissipate. No matter how intense the sun becomes over time, it seems unable to evaporate the moisture in the forest, let alone send it into the atmospheric circulation to participate in the natural cycle.

Ultimately, this is just a "painting," subject to the creator's will. The creator likes the misty forest, so it will remain in this state.

Moreover, there are no animals here.

Hermione had explored the Forbidden Forest several times, and her impression of it was not just that it was a vast, dark woodland, but that there was also a vibrant side to life beneath the shadows cast by the dense trees.

Birdsong, insect chirps, animal roars, and the rustling of swaying bushes... In a true natural forest, the sounds of life are like a never-ending symphony.

In the world depicted in the painting, it truly is just a scene frozen in time!

wow-

The bushes not far away swayed a few times, and Hermione, who was squatting on the ground, absentmindedly poking at the grass with her wand, immediately raised the tip of her wand and pointed it over.

"it's me!"

The bushes parted, and Harry, soaked to the bone by the mist and covered in dry twigs and leaves, looked disheveled and dejected.

His shoulder-length hair was plastered messily to his forehead, and his glasses were no longer recognizable. He spread his empty hands and said in a muffled voice, "I couldn't find anything to eat."

Hermione lowered her wand and comforted her, "If we don't find it, so be it. This place is probably just a 'painting,' and even if we do find it, we're not sure if it's edible."

Harry nodded, then sat down opposite her, staring blankly at his feet.

The two had been away from Chessboard Town for an unknown amount of time. In modern society, without clocks, people seem to have forgotten how to keep track of time. Even if the movement of the sun in the sky can be used as a reference, it is not real and its use for keeping time is questionable.

After confirming that Hermione was unharmed in Checkerboard Town and having a good cry for Ron, Harry became quiet and withdrawn.

He silently led Hermione through the woods, tracking Quirrell's trail.

As the sun began to set, they found the spot where Quirrell had fallen, but all that remained were charred trees struck by lightning; Quirrell was long gone.

The good news is that Hermione found the wreckage of her flying broom and Quirrell's lost potion bottle nearby.

After a moment of blankness, Harry took out the potion bottle Hermione had found from his pocket, fiddled with it for a moment, and muttered, "He can't use magic, and he doesn't have a flying broom. Where did he go?"

Even in his murmurs, there was an undeniable anger and hatred in his voice.

Hermione glanced at him worriedly, unsure how to comfort him, even though she knew that this place was created by Dumbledore and Vaughn, and that their entry into it was also facilitated by Dumbledore and Vaughn.

Emotionally, Hermione felt that Ron might not be dead, and that Vaughn would never harm his own brother.

But rationally she also knew that this place was, after all, a mechanism guarding the Philosopher's Stone, and it was perfectly normal for it to be lethal and dangerous.

The girl, who had read all sorts of books and notes, knew very well how dangerous magic could be.

In the magical world, accidents caused by magic are commonplace.

No wizard dares to guarantee that everything is under control.

What if... what if Ron's ordeal was just an accident?

So until now, Hermione hasn't dared to tell Harry her suspicions. She's afraid that Harry, immersed in sadness and anger, will become extreme and take his anger out on Dumbledore and Vaughn.

Hermione's mind raced with thoughts. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look away: "Still no trace of Quirrell?"

Harry shook his head.

“The damage caused by lightning must be severe.” Hermione analyzed, glancing at the bottle in Harry’s hand. “Remember what Ferrenze said? Quirrell used unicorn blood to make potions to prolong Voldemort’s life. The bottle in your hand contains unicorn blood.”

“That’s a potion belonging to the mysterious man, but Quirrell used it to heal himself. This shows that he has been driven to the brink. I think that instead of blindly searching for him in the forest, we should force him to come to us!”

Harry, who had been silent all along, finally looked up: "You mean?"

Hermione looked ahead, the lush forest obscuring her view, but both she and Harry knew that direction led to their final destination in the world of the painting—the castle!
In the narration, it is the lair of the evil fire dragon and the final level!
After gazing in that direction for a moment, Harry put away the bottle and nodded emphatically: "Let's go to the castle!"

His expression was brave and resolute, which made Hermione feel somewhat unfamiliar with him.

The Harry of the past was actually a very impulsive person.

Impulsiveness is not courage, but recklessness. In the past, he would be afraid, lazy, and hesitant. Only when faced with difficult choices would he blindly rush forward—such behavior without considering the consequences is essentially a form of escapism.

But Harry is completely different at this moment.

Hermione could sense that he was still consumed by grief, anger, and hatred, but when he nodded emphatically, his mind was clear; he understood what she meant and quickly grasped the key points.

The castle is the final level in the painted world, and it is very likely that it holds the Philosopher's Stone. Once they reach the castle and open the final level, Quirrell will have no choice but to reveal himself.

Otherwise, his plan to steal the Philosopher's Stone would have failed completely!

Ron's death made Harry mature, but at a price...

Hermione recalled what Ferrenze had said about Harry and Voldemort's intertwined fate, and suddenly felt a pang of sadness in her heart—

For Ron's uncertain fate, for Harry's future, and for the cruelty of destiny!
The girl reached into her pocket and took out the "Wishing Pen," a reward she had received from the fairytale town.

[Wishing Brush: A magical brush used in the world of paintings. When you make a wish to it with sincere faith, it can draw whatever you want!]

[Number of uses: 1/3]

The Wishing Brush can only be used 3 times. It was used once at first to draw a flying broom, but it was stolen by Quirrell. They left Chessboard Town, and in order to track Quirrell, they had to use it again to draw a new one.

Before the fierce conflict in Chessboard Town, Hermione thought she would never need this reward item again.

But now, her opinion has changed.

"Dumbledore, Vaughn... what do you want me to draw with it?"

The girl felt lost.

Hermione!

Hermione snapped out of her daze. Not far away, Harry was already on his broomstick, looking back at her: "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." Hermione shook her head, jogged over, carefully climbed onto the back of the broom, lay down, and hugged it—the broom couldn't carry two people, and if she weren't so light, it might not even be able to fly.

Harry was puzzled, but he didn't think much of it. Once Hermione was lying down, he pulled the handle and soared into the air!

When walking in the forest, you feel that the forest is so vast that it seems to have no end.

However, once you break free from these barriers, and with the ubiquitous trees and terrain no longer obstructing your path, what seems like a long distance can actually be covered very quickly.

The broom drawn by the wishing pen is Harry's most familiar Nimbus 2000. This broom has a top speed of about 300 km/h, which is 83 meters per second.

Riding it at breakneck speed in the air is undoubtedly not a pleasant experience; at such high speeds, even the gentle breeze feels like knives on your face.

But Harry couldn't care less about that at that moment.

He just wanted to get to his destination as quickly as possible, get the Philosopher's Stone, or kill Quirrell!
The castle is located in a rift valley at the end of the forest. Its style is somewhat similar to Hogwarts Castle. The main body sits on the top of a towering cliff at the end, and a long covered bridge spans the rift valley, connecting it to the forest.

After flying for an unknown amount of time, Harry's face was red from the friction of the air, as if he had been exposed to the sun for a long time. He then began to press down on the handle from a distance.

Hermione, who had been holding onto the broom's tail and burying her head in her arms, sensed the slowdown and asked loudly, "Are we there yet?"

After waiting for a while without receiving a reply from Harry, Hermione had no choice but to raise her head slightly. The strong wind that rushed towards her blurred her vision, but she could still see a majestic castle standing in front of her.

The covered bridge extending from the castle to this side is straight and steep, with tall stone statues silently guarding both sides of the bridge.

Hermione noticed that Harry, who had been silent, was still flying in that direction, and in an instant, the two of them had quickly approached the top of the covered bridge.

"Harry?"

Hermione shouted.

Just then, the long-silent narration resounded between heaven and earth, in their ears:

"You and your companions have overcome countless dangers and finally arrived at the castle of the evil fire dragon. Now, heroes, charge towards the castle, defeat the fire dragon, and rescue the princess..."

"Hmph! Hermione, hold on tight!"

Harry, who had been silent all along, finally spoke up. He pulled the handle again, and the broom, which had started to slow down, sped up to its limit again. The sudden acceleration almost made Hermione slip.

But what terrified her even more was...

As the narration from the sky began, the stone statues guarding both sides of the covered bridge slowly stood up.

They looked up and turned their heads.

With a clattering sound, they pulled their spears from the stone bricks and raised them!
next moment.

hum-

Something high-speed whistled and vibrated as it whizzed past her. Before Hermione could react, she heard Harry curse "Damn it!" and then she slammed her broom down and swooped down to the ground.

It was only then that Hermione realized that the high-speed object that had just brushed past her was a weapon thrown by the statue.

She strained to look in that direction, and what she saw confirmed her guess!
The girl's brown pupils, blurred by the airflow, reflected a terrifying scene—countless stone statues in front of her were hurling their spears, which appeared as tiny as hairs in the first blink.

In the blink of an eye, it was already overwhelming, like thick clouds!

woo-

The whooshing sound of objects tearing through the air came from afar, like a swarm of bees, but in reality, it felt like a catastrophic natural disaster. Goosebumps, aroused by fear, spread across Hermione's arms.

Harry, whose dynamic vision was better than hers and who discovered it earlier, naturally also saw that scene.

He pressed his lips tightly together, trying to keep the broom low as it continued its downward sweep, while at the same time, he silently uttered a word:
"Regina (Queen)!"

A strange dialog box unfolded before his eyes, visible to both him and Hermione; it contained a description:
[Queen: The reward Harry Potter received for winning the endgame in Chessboard Town can only be used in the Painted World. Child, the Queen has witnessed your pain and your growth. When danger arises, call her name: Regina!]

[Number of uses: 4/5]

As Harry pronounced the word, the "4" in the usage count column flashed and changed to "3".

At the same time, the sky darkened, not because the spears projected by the stone statues were too numerous or too dense, but because this painted world was responding to the re-arrival of a powerful spell.

Countless gray streams of air emerged from the void, like draped veils, covering Harry, turning his skin grayish-white, and causing his size to increase dramatically!
In the blink of an eye, the tall yet elegant queen stood in mid-air, but the sudden surge in mass caused her to plummet the moment she took shape.

And all of this was part of Harry's plan.

A tremendous external force surged through Harry's body, giving him a sense of confidence that he could destroy the world with a mere gesture. Harry knew it was just an illusion. But the power coursing through his body at that moment was undeniably real.

It was so powerful that everything he saw appeared to be in slow motion.

Ahead, a spear flew over first, and he could see it spinning rapidly, creating vortexes as it pierced through the air. The ripple-like patterns formed a wave-like trail at the spear's tail, circling and reflecting a dazzling light.

Harry reached out his hand.

The air was thick and heavy. Having experienced it once before, he knew that it was because he was going too fast, and the air was creating resistance.

But that’s all!

The surge of power in the "Queen" form easily ignored the slight resistance. A burst of air erupted between the stone fingers. Harry grabbed the spear, while turning around to catch Hermione and the flying broom as they fell. Watching the girl in slow motion, he struggled to climb onto the broom.

"Be careful—while I—deal—with—them!"

Harry spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice drawn out in a somewhat comical tone.

He did it on purpose. The enhancement brought by the "Queen" form is all-encompassing, not just physical speed, but also thinking, vision, vocal cord vibration, and so on.

If he doesn't deliberately draw out his intonation when he speaks, the syllables he makes will blend together, and to outsiders it will sound like he's shouting.

This is based on experience gained from the last upgrade.

At that moment, Hermione clearly heard Harry's words; of course, in her actual perception, everything happened very quickly.

She heard Harry say "Queen," and then her body sank. The feeling of falling and weightlessness had barely registered in her mind when she was caught.

By the time Hermione managed to climb onto the broom, her chaotic thoughts calmed down, and she began to think about what Harry had said, all she could hear was the deafening roar.

Ahead, the "Queen's" figure disappeared and then reappeared.

It was the afterimage left in our vision by high-speed movement, accompanied by a long, whistling sound as the air was torn apart...

Hermione couldn't tell what kind of voice it was.

Her ears felt like they had gone deaf; the turbulent air from the disturbance hit her head, ruffling her long hair and making it almost impossible for her to open her eyes.

From a limited field of vision, one could only see the densely packed spears falling down, being blasted away in large swathes as the "Queen" flashed by.

Safe.

Thinking it over, she tried to control the flying broom, slowed down, and landed. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she felt a violent tremor.

Hermione stumbled a few steps, dragging her broom, and when she looked back, she saw in the distance the covered bridge that stretched all the way from the castle to the edge of the forest, where Harry's "Queen" had fallen like a cannonball.

boom--

Soil and gravel were blasted into the air by the powerful shockwave.

At the same time, a fleeting white shockwave appeared—it was the air torn apart by the Queen's high-speed movement, like a charging arrow, crashing into the stone statues guarding the bridge who were running heavily towards it!

……

"No skill, just brute force!"

Looking down at Harry, who had ascended to the position of "Queen" and was now dominating the battlefield, Vaughn commented expressionlessly.

The situation on the battlefield below is even clearer when viewed from the air.

Vaughn and Dumbledore could clearly see Harry rush onto the bridge, clumsily and chaotically waving two stolen spears in his hands.

It looks really ugly.

However, with the support of Transfiguration and the magical impetus of the entire picture world, even though Harry had never been in a fight, and even though his punches and kicks lacked any close-combat technique and were not even comparable to street boxing, he was still able to fight.

But he is fast enough, strong enough, and has sharp enough dynamic vision!
Each swing of the spear was so fast that it left a trail of afterimages. With each strike, a stone statue guard could not withstand the immense force, and its arm or body was smashed into pieces!
Like Vaughn, Dumbledore, whose eyes gleamed with a deep blue light, closely observed the magical effects on Harry: "But he's trying to learn, have you noticed? Harry has realized that Ascension is a Transfiguration spell, and he's sensing that his magic is resisting it. He's forcing his magic to accept this change!"

"He's growing, Vaughn!"

Vaughn remained noncommittal: "This kind of growth is fake. You use Ron's 'death' to stimulate his potential, but the magical knowledge he acquires doesn't come out of thin air. Even if Harry eventually masters the 'Queen' form, what's the point?"

He always felt that Dumbledore's trial plan was unnecessary.

However, Dumbledore clearly didn't see it that way: "Of course it makes sense. The 'Queen' is indeed a fiction, but the experience and mindset of facing battle and going through the battlefield are real. The growth I expect is not about Harry mastering some great power, but about completing a transformation on a spiritual level."

Looking down at Harry, who was fighting bravely without showing any fear, Vaughn said nothing more.

After a long while, he suddenly shifted his gaze to the forest: "Quirok is here!"

"Yes, the grand finale is about to begin."

Dumbledore sighed, extended his aged, ringed hand, and said, "Give me the key; I need it to see something."

With Vaughn's involvement, the trial plan was completely different from the original one.

Dumbledore's conception of the functions of government agencies remained at the level of traditional child's play.

In comparison, Vaughn's imagination was much more boundless.

Fairy tale castles and worlds in paintings are still just experiments. The experiment is about what conditions are needed to create a "world".

At the same time, the formation of the "world" also has more research value from different perspectives.

For example, it is difficult to interfere with the real world through higher-dimensional means, which makes it difficult to observe many phenomena. So, would it be easier if we had a "small world" that we could control?
The essence of the world or the universe can be vast, inexhaustible, and inexplicable, but it can also be very "simple".

Time, space, and energy (matter) can basically summarize the cycle of birth, death, and operation of all things within these three concepts.

Including some ethereal things, such as fate!
Vaughn looked away and glanced at Old Deng: "You've accomplished what I envisioned?"

A few months ago, when he first helped Dumbledore design a level, Vaughn had an idea—fate may not be unobservable. If one could completely control a world, every disturbance of the wind and every jump of a photon in that world would be within one's grasp.

So, is it possible to indirectly capture traces of fate through the circulation of energy?

This idea was one of his many imaginings, and he hadn't paid much attention to it at the time. It wasn't until Dumbledore suddenly said that he wanted to use the key to the world in the painting to see something that he suddenly remembered it.

What else, besides fate, requires a legendary wizard to see through a "world"?
Sure enough, upon hearing Vaughn's question, Dumbledore smiled and said, "It's not quite a success yet, just a little easier than in reality. Your thinking seems to be on the right track, my dear."

Vaughn blinked, handed the key to Dumbledore, and asked simply, "Does fate exert an influence on things, acting on energy?"

"Not only that, there's also time!"

As he spoke, Dumbledore unfurled the scroll-like key, which unfolded before the two of them and condensed into a cloud of smoke.

The smoke was so thin that you could even vaguely see the scene below through it.

Dumbledore stared at the smoke, silently chanting a spell, controlling it to writhe, deform, and extend in the air, gradually forming a huge curtain.

He didn't stop until a huge, thin curtain of smoke covered the entire sky.

Completing this spell seemed to have consumed a lot of his magical power; his aged face turned paler, revealing an unhealthy complexion.

Dumbledore took a breath and looked down at the castle and the covered bridge: "Next, we just have to wait for Quirinus. There's still time."

"Well--"

Vaughn's gleaming eyes revealed keen interest as he followed Old Deng's gaze and said, "I'd also like to see what time looks like in this 'painting world'... Have you done any experiments before?"

"No, my dear, those alchemical artifacts are very difficult to make, and there aren't many left in the world."

"So what do you think it will do?"

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then said, "I hope it's not like what you're describing!"

What exactly is the state of time?
Or, to be more precise, does the event evolve linearly over time, or does it continuously diverge?

Past lives and present lives are discussed in many fantasy works that Vaughn has read, the most famous of which is the parallel universe theory.

Different processes or decisions regarding the same event will produce different consequences, and all possible consequences are like forking paths in a garden, leading to their own independent times and spaces.

But all of that is ultimately just Muggle theory and fantasy, because Muggles cannot truly travel through time and go back to the past, so they cannot disprove the existence of parallel universes.

In the magical world, time travel is something many wizards know about.

Time converter!
These alchemical items, controlled by the Ministry of Magic, should be considered the second greatest miracle in alchemy after the Philosopher's Stone.

The reason it's ranked below the Philosopher's Stone is because its effects are truly indescribable.

A time-traveling device can indeed allow people to travel through time and go back to the past, but the act itself seems meaningless.

Those who travel back in time cannot change the past; no matter how hard they try, they will only get the same result.

It's as if some force in reality is constraining the "timeline," causing events to unfold according to a predetermined path.

Not even the slightest deviation is allowed!
Vaughn had thought about the time-twister problem long ago. Although he couldn't access this alchemical artifact, Bill had used it.

Dumbledore had little knowledge of time. Throughout his life, he had been curious about and challenged many things, but time and fate were the only things he always approached with caution and dared not touch lightly.

It's not about fearing time and fate itself, but rather based on a certain sense of gain and loss—what if you can't make things better by changing time and fate?
After a moment of silence, Dumbledore asked, "Vaughn, you said you once asked Bill to do an experiment for you, what was it?"

“It was a very small experiment,” Vaughn said. “I broke a vase and asked him to go back in time and use every means at his disposal to stop me from breaking it.”

Dumbledore frowned. Without asking any further questions, he knew what the final outcome would be—the vase would definitely break!
Sure enough, Vaughn continued, "He tried sending letters, asking Professor McGonagall to let him go home with Floo Powder, or asking Mom and Dad to come home and take the vase... but no matter what he did, when I picked up the vase and smashed it on the ground, his obstruction did not happen to me."

He looked at Dumbledore and continued, "From my perspective, I broke the vase at noon, and only received the letter from Zhu Weiqiong that afternoon because I had only bought it a short time ago and it had gotten lost."

“That evening at dinner, we received news that Bill had been put in solitary confinement. Only then did Mom and Dad remember that Bill had asked them to come home that morning to help get some things, but they were too busy that day and forgot about it.”

"As for Bill himself, he used the Time-Turner to go back to noon during dinner and asked Professor McGonagall to let him use the fireplace in her office to go home. However, Professor McGonagall discovered that he was abusing the Time-Turner because she had just seen him going to his divination class before she returned to her office..."

"He could only find an excuse to escape. He ran away for six hours, but by dinner time he was so hungry that he couldn't stand it anymore. He tried to remind his other self not to go to Professor McGonagall, but as soon as he entered the dining room, the professor caught him, put him in solitary confinement, and used the fireplace to notify his parents."

"At that moment, another version of himself had just left the restaurant and was turning on the time converter in the restroom, returning to six hours earlier."

At this point, Vaughn smiled and said, "Albus, isn't that interesting?"

"Well……"

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, and after a moment, he commented, "The whole thing is like a cycle."

“Yes, it has a strong sense of fatalism,” Vaughn said calmly. “In the view of fatalism, the past, present, and future are all planned by fate, so what happened in the past cannot be changed. Even if you travel to the past, you are just following the predetermined path to complete your destiny.”

"Just like that experiment, 'Vaughn smashing the vase' is a fact that has already happened for Bill six hours later. Even if he went back six hours and wanted to change it, all sorts of unexpected events would hinder him and ensure that 'Vaughn smashing the vase' would proceed normally."

Dumbledore was silent.

In his mind, this phenomenon was not strange at all. Although he had never studied time, the Ministry of Magic had conducted many experiments on time throughout history.

This is a no-brainer.

Wizards revere fate, but that doesn't mean they are willing to accept its arrangements. Everyone has some unfortunate experiences in their lives that they want to undo or change.

Fate cannot be measured, but time can.

Traveling back in time is undoubtedly the most likely way to change one's destiny in the magical world.

Unfortunately, countless experiments failed.

The most famous of these was the time travel experiment conducted in 1899 by a mutated man named Eloise Mintab.

In her experiment to travel back in time, she was trapped in 1402 for five days.

Although Eloise died of old age soon after her return due to her body being five centuries older, her experiments thrilled the entire wizarding world.

Because during those five days, Eloise successfully interfered with time, so that Tuesday after her return to the modern world lasted for two and a half days, while Thursday became four hours.

The wizards seemed to see a glimmer of hope in escaping their fate.

(End of this chapter)