Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world

Chapter 203 Vaughn: Yeah, I'm not a good person!
But as a memory mage, after these few short questions, he could sense that the other party's emotions were genuine—at least, the parts about saving people and guarding against DeSantis or the Magic Council's slaughter of werewolves were credible.

They really are such ruthless guys!

Of course, Vaughn was more proficient in memory magic than him, and he wasn't particularly confident in his own abilities either.

So he just scoffed, "Even if you're a very honest person, what does it have to do with me? Why should I help you ascertain DeSantis's true identity? You don't think that just because I realize DeSantis isn't a good person, I'll consider you a good person, do you?"

Innocent!

He's long past the age where he thinks the world is black and white.

However, he clearly underestimated Vaughn's fallacies.

The handsome, red-haired wizard looked at him earnestly: "Yes, I'm not a good person, and DeSantis isn't a good person either. You hate me, and now you hate him too. So why don't you tell me his identity and let these two bastards you hate fight each other?"

"..."

Essex was completely bewildered, but upon closer reflection, it actually made a lot of sense...

…………

In the dead of night, under the bright moonlight, the faint howls of wolves rose and fell.

Vaughn leaned against the bay window of his suite, looking at the city bathed in moonlight and listening to the howling of wolves. Memories from not long ago flooded back to him.

"...I don't know DeSantis's specific identity. To be precise, every time he appears in front of me, he has a completely new look. Young, middle-aged, old, man, woman... He has never repeated himself over the years!"

"Compound decoction?"

"Maybe so. I don't know him as well as you think. In fact, I've only known him for four years."

"Year 4?"

"Yes, back then I was still a tamed dog under the Magical Congress, an MSA agent. The Rappaport Act and the Exemption Agreement wore away all my edges. I spent my days in a daze in the Muggle community where the Magical Congress was stationed, doing dirty work for the lords of Woolworth from time to time, living like a rat in the gutter."

"Four years ago, DeSantis found me... I don't know why he approached me, maybe because he knew about the repressed anger and hatred in my heart? Anyway, he led me to found the Mystic Brotherhood... an organization dedicated to eliminating purebloods."

“I always thought he was a survivor of the avant-garde movement back then… You know the avant-garde movement, right? Those admirable people.”

In the hazy memories, Bruce Essex looked dejected.

That was the desolation after dreams were shattered.

He did not doubt that Vaughn had deceived him with false memories, because a "De Santis" resided in his own mental world. Therefore, when he saw another "De Santis" in the memories that Vaughn had preserved, he was certain that the life that lived in the memory must have been the work of his old friend.

So I was extremely disappointed.

"Heh, until you saw a completely different 'De Santis' in your memory, I always thought he was one of our own, a glorious warrior abandoned by the times... In the end, I was the clown, and he... was just a despicable schemer, just like you."

"Thank you for the compliment. I don't think 'ambitious person' is a derogatory term, but I still want to remind you that he and I are different."

"Heh, not as extreme as him, right?"

"Yes."

"...Compared to him, you do seem more normal, probably because you're a foreigner. In this damned land, normal people like you have become rare... Getting back to the original topic, you won't get any information about DeSantis from me. He's always the one who initiates our meetings, and I think your real purpose probably isn't to find him, is it?"

"Yes, do you see those wizards in those iron cages? They're the ones I'm looking for."

"'they'?"

"Well, they are not real wizards, but artificial life forms developed by DeSantis and Muggle scientists. According to my research, their brains have been completely destroyed during the modification process. They have no memory, no thoughts, and not even a main consciousness, let alone a self. So, in the traditional sense, they are no longer human."

"..."

In the hazy glow of the scene, Essex turned to look at the iron cages beside him and fell silent.

After a long pause, he finally spoke and asked:

"Why did he do this?"

“There are many possibilities. Perhaps he wants to develop a cheap, readily available force for mass production. However, I think DeSantis may have a deeper purpose, which I just haven’t discovered yet. So I want to see if I can find his laboratory or something similar, find the research data on these artificial wizards, and then deduce his purpose.”

Memories ripple gently like the waters of a lake.

Essex turned to look at him, her expression strange: "You... are very honest..."

"Because I have no reason to deceive you in this matter."

"..."

A long silence followed as Essex stared into the other direction.

Those pursemen, like mindless wild beasts, howled and struggled incessantly inside the iron cages.

After a long pause, he finally spoke: "I do know a place. It's a damn city. Sometimes, due to unforeseen circumstances, we have to meet on short notice. He... DeSantis might not have time to choose a location and has to arrange it on the fly. Although the specific meeting place is still designed to be irregular, he probably overlooks the fact that I've dealt with too many men's dirty work in the first half of my life. My rich experience makes me very good at understanding people's behavior and psychology."

"Everyone has inertia. Even if you try to avoid it, you will still subconsciously drift towards familiar places. You don't need to look at the road when you walk into a familiar street. You subconsciously sniff the coffee shop you often visit. You ignore the signs you take for granted. I'm used to writing down these trivial reactions. They are my games when I'm bored. They also help me figure out his stronghold in that city."

As he spoke, he placed his finger on his forehead and slowly pulled out a strand of silver hair.

"Although I allow DeSantis to reside in my mental world, I am also a memory magician. There are some things that are not suitable for him to see, and I will quietly hide them. For example, I once tried to investigate him."

"In this memory, there are the coordinates of what appears to be his base. I don't know what's there, but if you want it, you can have it!"

The memory abruptly ended.

Vaughn waved his hand, and the memory dissipated like mist. He leaned against the window frame, his right hand, which he had been holding, opened, revealing a crystal-clear bottle lying quietly in his palm.

The bottle was filled with a misty fog, moving slowly, with faint silver specks visible inside.

It is a memory, and also what Essex called "coordinates," a prerequisite for Apparition!
In the world of magic, many things actually follow objective laws, but their specific descriptions and uses are rather subjective and abstract.

For example, the Apparition Charm doesn't mean that you can go anywhere in the world after reciting the spell; it has a prerequisite: "remember a place you have been before."

The so-called "memory" is actually using magic, with memory as a medium, to locate places that have been visited in the past in the present space.

However, spacetime is not two independent entities. Changes in time will inevitably lead to changes in the state of space. The past and present of the same space cannot be exactly the same. This greatly reduces the safety of Apparition, which is also the reason why Floo fans were able to develop later.

Vaughn snapped his fingers, and a cloud of mist emanated from him. He then gently twisted open the bottle cap, poured out the mist, and waved it into the fog.

The fog shifted and changed, and soon, a street from Essex's memory was constructed.

As he watched the city gradually emerge from the mist, Vaughn narrowed his eyes slightly.

To be honest, he didn't trust Bruce Essex.

Although he took the initiative to approach and persuade the other party, and judging from previous interactions, Essex certainly did not seem like a cunning person.

But who can truly understand the fickle nature of human hearts?
Even in the magical world, where memory magic exists and people's memories and thoughts can be manipulated at will, there are still spells like Occlumency to counter it.

Not to mention, Bruce Essex also has a DeSantis living in his head.

However, he did not doubt the authenticity of the coordinates provided by the other party. After all, no matter what Bruce Essex's plans were, giving a fake coordinate would be meaningless.

His only concern was whether there might be any danger involved.

“Bruce Essex hates purebloods, there should be no doubt about that. I have been to his mind world before and read his memories and thoughts. With my expertise in memory magic, he can’t fool me.”

Not everyone can be like him, possessing a maxed-out brain-occlusion technique.

As the most powerful magic against mind invasion, Occlumency is difficult to master and requires a great deal of mental effort.

Of all the wizards Vaughn had encountered, almost 95% did not know this spell. Among the remaining wizards, only Snape was the most proficient, even surpassing Dumbledore. However, given Dumbledore's mastery of memory magic, he no longer needed to protect himself through defensive means.

Vaughn's strength doesn't reach Dumbledore's level of offense as defense, but with his mastery of max-level Occlumency, in terms of defense and the weaving and disguising of false memories, probably no one in the wizarding world can compare to him.

It's an exaggeration to say that you can tell at a glance whether a person's memories or thoughts are fake, but for Vaughn, the cost of discerning them is indeed not high.

"The memories and thoughts are real, and the coordinates are real too. If we want to continue investigating, we have to take risks. Maybe, like when I persuaded Essex, he gave me the real coordinates in the hope that I and DeSantis would both be severely injured? This guy isn't as simple as he claims. It's not some game for fun. I'm afraid he knows he can't fight DeSantis, so he puts on an image of being fearless and indifferent to life and death."

"If he was truly desperate about reality, why did he wait until DeSantis contacted him? When he was locked in a dark room, why did he succumb to loneliness?"

As he stirred the shifting mist with his fingers, Vaughn's slightly narrowed eyes darted about.

Then he smiled:

"Never mind, I've already got the stuff, so I'm not the main character anymore."

Vaughn stood up, took a phoenix feather from his satchel, lit it, and then paid no more attention, letting the tail feather crackle and burn. He waved his hand, dispelling the mist spell and sealing the wisp of memory back into the bottle.

Vaughn did not absorb that memory; the existence of DeSantis has made him extremely wary of such things.

Let's leave it to Dumbledore!
He stared at the phoenix tail feather that was burning out rapidly. The tail feather, born of flames, conveyed a simple message through the fire.

.........

Hogwarts.

The lights in all four colleges were off, except for the light in the principal's office. Those fifth and seventh graders who arrived early, supposedly to prepare for the OWLs and NEWTs, but couldn't even stay up all night, would surely feel ashamed if they could see the light in the principal's office!
Of course, the reality is...

"call--"

The deafening snoring made Snape, who was engrossed in studying his documents, bulge the veins on his forehead.

He raised his head, his dark eyes flashing with a chilling light, and stared intently at Dumbledore, who was fast asleep on the sofa in the guest area.

As if resentment had a physical form, Dumbledore, who was in his sleep, suddenly shivered and woke up with a start.

"Ah, Severus, haven't you finished your research yet?"

"..." Snape, with a stern face, didn't want to speak.

The shameless centenarian wizard was clearly oblivious to his own shortcomings. While stretching and loosening his stiff bones, he frowned and said, "I'm getting old. I couldn't keep going for long. I'm not as strong as you young people."

"...I couldn't tell at all when you were asleep."

Snape couldn't help but snort.

As if oblivious to the sarcasm, Dumbledore rubbed his aching back, poured himself a glass of sherry to moisten his throat, and walked over to Snape, flipping through the thick stack of parchment records beside him.

After a long pause, he sighed, "The progress is not ideal, there are no results..."

Snape paused in his book-flipping hand, a soft, sarcastic remark squeezed out between his teeth: "If a certain headmaster had done what he said when he called me from the basement and helped me with the research, perhaps my progress wouldn't be so slow."

Dumbledore remained calm: "No, dear Severus, I do not deny your hard work, but just now, while I was thinking in my sleep, I suddenly felt that perhaps we cannot find the answer in the old books."

"..."

Snape's already pale face turned deathly white, and beneath his drooping eyelids, his dark eyes lingered uncontrollably on Dumbledore's neck.

The hand holding the quill pen unconsciously tightened its grip.

"Who asked me to do this in the first place?" he said slowly. "Now tell me I've been doing useless work these past two days?"

"Well, it's not entirely useless. At least from the documents you've been reading, research on immortality isn't uncommon. For example, here, an alchemist from over 200 years ago suspected that vampires were a byproduct of some kind of immortality research. He believed that the birth of vampires was an immortal body created by some ancient wizard for himself... Hmm!"

Dumbledore suddenly fell into a deep thought.

Snape glanced at his notes, found nothing wrong, and asked, "What's wrong?"

“It’s nothing.” Dumbledore shook his head. “Vaughn had the same idea when he was studying werewolves.”

As a fellow Potions Master, Snape immediately understood: "A body?"

“That’s right. Vaughn believes that the werewolf virus and the curse within it transform Muggles and wizards into certain forms, containers with specific functions…”

Dumbledore suddenly became lost in thought: "I initially thought he was overthinking things..."

Snape frowned slightly. He had always valued Vaughn's abilities and ideas. Just as he was about to say something, a fire suddenly broke out in the corner of the headmaster's office.

The two looked over at the same time and saw that Fox, who had been squatting on the support and dozing off, was suddenly engulfed by flames.

Fire couldn't harm the phoenix, of course. Fawkes, startled awake from his sleep, even glared at Snape the moment he woke up—he hadn't forgotten that stingy fellow who had promised Vaughn Weasley he'd pay him with Felix Felicis, but had gone back on his word. What a scoundrel!

Snape: "..."

Ignoring Fawkes, who was starting to act crazy again, Snape looked at Dumbledore: "Is it Vaughn?"

Although Fox had always disliked him and wouldn't allow him to study it.

But Snape also knew that such an anomaly only occurred when someone burned a phoenix's tail feathers to summon the phoenix, aside from the phoenix's rebirth.

"Yes, this is the signal we agreed upon."

Dumbledore sighed. "It seems Vaughn has already found DeSantis's whereabouts... a bit too fast. We haven't even made any progress on our end."

Snape noticed the hesitation in Dumbledore's sigh.

Recalling his conversation when he received Vaughn's letter last time, and his work these past few days, he understood the old man's concerns: "Are you afraid that DeSantis is really Grindelwald?"

"...Yes, Severus, the world would be in a terrible state if that were the case."

Snape didn't understand for a moment. If Dumbledore had been able to defeat Grindelwald before, why was he afraid now?
Upon further reflection, it dawned on me.

Back then, Dumbledore's only enemy was Grindelwald, but now, there is also Voldemort lurking in the shadows!
His mind went blank for a moment, and he could barely maintain his brain block. The muscles in his cheeks twitched because of his loss of control.

That was indeed a terrible situation!
"What are you going to do?"

Snape asked instinctively.

In his heart, Albus Dumbledore was never a good person. More than ten years ago, he used his feelings for Lily to force him to become an undercover agent. Later, while constantly reminiscing about James Potter and Lily, he abandoned Harry to Muggles.

Hypocritical, indifferent, and ruthless!

This is how Snape remembered Dumbledore.

He suddenly felt a little flustered.

After receiving Vaughn's letter, Dumbledore asked him to find out if there was any way to make legendary wizards young again. Although he was reluctant, he accepted the task.

He hoped that if he could make progress on his side, then Vaughn wouldn't have to take any more risks.

Unexpectedly, Vaughn's investigation yielded results so quickly...

Snape stared intently at Dumbledore, his usually sharp-tongued and quick-witted mind seemingly forgotten; his mouth moved a few times, but he couldn't utter a word.

After a long pause, he managed to squeeze out a dry sentence: "You...you have to help Vaughn!"

"Hmm?" Dumbledore, who was deep in thought, looked up when he heard this. His expression was not visible under his thick beard, but a slight smile could be seen at the corner of his eye: "You care about him a lot, Severus. It seems that this student pleases you."

"..."

“Don’t look so serious. Like Vaughn said, you should cheer up and get out of the shadows of the past… Uh, don’t look at me like that. Of course, I can’t let Vaughn face a legendary wizard alone.”

He sighed, "I don't even want him to stay in North America anymore. Things have gone completely off track from our original plan. The situation in North America is far more complicated and dangerous than we anticipated..."

Dumbledore didn't continue speaking; he looked gently at Snape:

"Alright, it's getting late, go get some rest." He glanced at the pile of unfinished documents on his desk, a hint of hesitation flashing in his eyes, but he ultimately shook his head: "School starts in a little over a week, you don't need to do this anymore. Focus on preparing your lessons. Severus, Harry will be a second-year student soon, and he can't do without your guidance."

Snape stared at him, the wavering that had appeared earlier due to his concern for Vaughn being replaced by the coldness of Occlumency.

Because he vaguely understood what Dumbledore meant.

He didn't lose his temper; he had grown accustomed to such treatment over the past decade. He simply drew his wand and summoned his few rare books into his hands:
"You said you would help Vaughn, I hope you will keep your word."

Having said that, he left quickly without waiting for Dumbledore's response.

The principal's office door closed gently, and the air returned to tranquility. Moonlight quietly streamed in, like a thin veil draped over the figure standing silently before the desk.

After a long while, amidst the portraits of past principals hanging on the wall and the rising and falling snores, the aged voice of Principal Matilda Weasley drifted out:

"Why do you keep hurting that child? You could have done it gently, but Albus, you always seem to deliberately make him hate you. Just now, you had already decided to help Vaughn, but then you added something else, hiding your true thoughts and leading him to believe that you are helping Vaughn and he is helping Harry... Why?"

In response to Headmaster Weasley's question, Dumbledore replied with humor:
“This is called an equivalent exchange, dear Matilda.”

Headmaster Weasley wasn't fooled: "That's not what you really think."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm just laying the groundwork for what might happen in the future, Matilda. Wizards are strong because of love, and they are also vulnerable because of love. Sometimes, we old folks have to take on more responsibility so that when future generations make their choices, the burden will be lighter."

Matilda Weasley looked puzzled; she didn't understand what these words meant.

(End of this chapter)