Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 215 End of the North American Trip

Vaughn pulled out a wisp of memory and flung it onto the white misty wall.

The fog swirls and shifts, and in an instant, a city and a street are clearly outlined on the curtain wall.

Dumbledore frowned slightly: "Where is this?"

"Chicago."

"A Muggle city in America? What are you doing here?"

"Someone told me that he had met with DeSantis here several times, and he suspects that DeSantis is living in seclusion in this city—well, at least one or more DeSantises!"

Two days ago, when he encountered Wilkinson, and Wilkinson mentioned the name Essex, Vaughn speculated that DeSantis might not be a specific person.

Rather, it is a shared identity and a common code name among a group of people.

This was his intuition and conjecture, without any evidence.

Moreover, he knew that any normal person would find his conjecture absurd—Wilkinson was a legendary wizard, and to share an identity with him meant that all those who used the identity of "DeSantis" were legendary wizards.

"impossible!"

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Dumbledore was a normal person, so when he heard Vaughn's guess, his first reaction was to deny it: "My dear, there aren't that many legends in the world. It's hard for me to describe to you, but you should know that once a wizard becomes a legend, other legendary wizards will have a corresponding premonition that another one of their kind has been born in the world."

The two had arrived in Chicago and were walking on the north side of the city.

This area, near the lake, is a traditional affluent neighborhood. Everything looks clean and tidy, while their destination is the city center, which is adjacent to the north.

Vaughn glanced at the cars and pedestrians slowly passing by on the street, and said, "I can't imagine what kind of premonition you're talking about, but is it possible that—those who become 'DeSantis' are all legends like Wilkinson, whom you thought were dead?"

Dumbledore remained silent.

After a long pause, he sighed, "—Alright, the possibility you mentioned does exist."

Vaughn glanced at him: "You don't seem surprised. Did you already discover something?"

"no."

"Stop being stubborn, Albus. You must have investigated Grindelwald, right? I haven't forgotten. I initially suspected DeSantis was Grindelwald and even wrote you a letter. Although I had no proof, I know you would never underestimate Grindelwald!"

"...

'

This time, Dumbledore remained silent for an even longer time. Beneath his thick, silver-white beard, his azure eyes held a rare hint of confusion: "I—I'm not sure—"

Vaughn remained silent, slowly walking towards his destination while patiently waiting for him to speak.

"What I can confirm is that he is still in Nurmengard, hasn't left that castle, and the omen of death has enveloped him. His magic is almost completely gone—everything seems normal and in line with our speculation. In fact, the International Federation withdrew its surveillance on him several years ago, deeming him no longer a threat."

"But you don't believe me, do you?"

"—Yes, everything seems normal, but I have a gut feeling that something's wrong. But just like you suspect DeSantis—there are many possibilities, and we have no evidence."

"So, do you think we can find evidence where we're going now?"

"—I have no hope, my dear."

Vaughn sighed, "Me too—when Wilkinson mentioned Essex to me, I knew this lead was probably useless."

Dumbledore asked in confusion, "Then why are you coming over?"

"Because I'm not willing to give up, and maybe there's a chance—I'm really curious about what they're trying to do."

As it turns out, there aren't that many "what ifs" in the world. When the two arrived at their destination following Essex's memory, there was nothing left.

In a literal sense.

In Essex's memory, there should be an apartment building here, not very tall, only 10 stories, a common old-style building in Chicago.

But now—

There was only an open space here, the ground of which was very flat and smooth, like a hot knife cutting through butter. The apartment buildings that were originally adjacent to it on the left and right also had the same smooth "section".

Even more strangely, the Muggles coming and going didn't pay a single second's attention to this abruptly empty space. They came and went in a hurry or leisurely manner, completely ignoring the huge blank space between the two apartment buildings.

Both of them were highly skilled in magic, and they were certain that there were no magical remnants here, nor any confusion or Muggle expulsion spells.

It's more like—the light deceived the eyes of those Muggles, preventing them from seeing that blank space!

"Wilkinson!"

"Just like I told you before, when a wizard embarks on the path to legend, they receive some kind of mysterious gift—no one knows where it comes from or what it is, but you will clearly sense it. You can choose a spell to accompany you on your ascension."

"Someone once proposed a concept when he was young: that the ascension to legend is at the soul level. The magic we choose on the path to legend is also engraved on the soul. It is the mark of legend and the vessel for the soul's transformation."

"No one can verify his idea. Since the beginning of magical records, no one has ever seen what a soul looks like. Ghosts aside, many wizards have speculated about the existence of souls. One widely accepted theory is similar to the higher-dimensional creations you mentioned before. That is, we can't see its full appearance at all, we can only see its projection."

"Ghosts might be a projection that aligns with our understanding—Gellert Grindelwald's conjecture has never been confirmed because the soul is unobservable, but the condition of Wilkinson that you mentioned has given me some ideas."

When Dumbledore said these words, he, Vaughn, the WAC delegation, the accompanying English Auror squad, and the werewolves who had joined them had already boarded the ship returning to England.

Facing the sea breeze and listening to Dumbledore's words, Vaughn narrowed his eyes: "You believe that the Wilkinson I encountered was the true Wilkinson in his spiritual state?"

Dumbledore nodded: "Yes, didn't you say that under the vision of your newly developed Vision Charm, you could only see Wilkinson's location, just a pixelated ball of light flickering?"

"I think his state might be another projection of his soul, similar to a ghost, but not the same—" Dumbledore said, his expression turning serious as he pondered, "This also explains why he was able to escape death—the death of a legend is inevitable, but what if he was already 'dead'?"

Old Deng has a wild imagination.

But Vaughn immediately agreed, because another similar case immediately popped into his mind: "—Voldemort's Horcrux magic!"

"Yes, after hearing your detailed description of your encounter with Wilkinson, Tom was the first person I thought of." Dumbledore snapped out of his reverie, his face showing appreciation. "Tom is the same; in a broad sense, Tom is also in a state of 'death' right now, but there are differences. Wilkinson seems to be like a ghost, able to interfere with reality to some extent, while Tom can't do so at all unless he possesses someone else."

"My dear, you gained a lot from your trip to North America. At least in terms of understanding the soul, we made some progress."

Old Deng was in a good mood.

He was already thinking about how to proceed with the research on ghosts, Horcruxes, and states like Wilkinson's, in order to prove that their respective states were different projections of the soul under different conditions.

If we can truly discover the pattern within it, then ———

Glancing at him and looking at his hands covered in rings, Vaughn frowned: "You seem so happy, haven't you given up on resurrecting Ariana yet?"

Dumbledore's smile froze for a moment.

Before he could argue, Vaughn said, "You're over a hundred years old, you know everything you need to know. I just hope you'll think things through before you act. None of the Albus, Peverell, and Peverell brothers had a good ending, especially the one who used the Resurrection Stone to bring back his deceased wife's soul."

Dumbledore instinctively retorted, "In the Tales of Beedle the Bard, the third son has a happy ending."

"But that's a fairy tale!"

"Fairy tales are history, only they are passed down in the form of stories. At least, the Peverell family did not end with the three brothers."

"—" Vaughn remained silent, gazing at the monotonous seascape for a while before finally saying, "I can't persuade you, but Albus, if you continue like this, one day you will die from your own obsession!"

Dumbledore rubbed his fingers together, changing the subject: "Have you asked Donald Graves? Wilkinson, or the DeSantisss, why they want to go back to Woolworth?"

Knowing he didn't want to talk about Ariana, Vaughn sighed and then shook his head: "He doesn't know either, but he and I guessed that those people might be trying to control the Dreamcatcher."

"Dreamcatcher ————"

Muttering the name of the chained artifact, Dumbledore asked with a puzzled expression, "What do they want with the Dreamcatcher?"

"I don't know. All I know is that Wilkinson can use the dreamcatcher for teleportation—I saw him emerge from the tentacles of the dreamcatcher with my own eyes. Considering that the dreamcatcher covers the entire North America, perhaps they are preparing to use it as a device to send Wilkinson around?" Vaughn speculated.

But after saying it, he himself felt it was impossible.

That's such a low-class plan.

A legendary figure, who stole a rare gold-plated artifact, ended up using it as a door key?

Unfortunately, there was too little information, and the two of them couldn't deduce any useful conclusions.

Vaughn simply advised, "Once you return to England, you'd better get Akinbad transferred back from America through the Federation, otherwise, that old man might die any day now."

Dumbledore blinked. "My dear, the Federation may not necessarily obey my orders."

Vaughn said disdainfully, "You're the president of the federation, so why are you completely useless?"

"That's how politics is sometimes. The nominal leader may just be a figurehead, while the real power usually lies with the deputies." Old Deng shrugged. "I, as the president, am re-elected every now and then, but the vice presidents aren't."

"Stop making excuses for yourself; you just don't want to get involved."

"What cold words you have, my dear, you have wounded the aged and fragile heart of an old man—"

"Shut up!"

Vaughn felt that he was becoming more and more like Professor Snape.

There's no way around it; after spending so much time with Dumbledore, I can't help but want to criticize his unreliability!

But when he looked back, the American continent, which was gradually receding from view and disappearing below the sea level as the cruise ship sailed into the deep sea.

He finally managed to say a belated thank you: "Thank you, Albus."

"Thank me for coming to save you?"

"Yes, Wilkinson was my first encounter with a legendary wizard, and to be honest, I was completely helpless against him—it's really frustrating to think about."

Dumbledore, enjoying the sea breeze, chuckled upon hearing this: "You're only 12 years old, child. You shouldn't compare yourself to Wilkinson; that's unfair."

Vaughn remained silent.

fair?

Reality isn't always fair.

The abrupt end of the North American trip also meant that the original travel plans were no longer applicable.

According to Vaughn and WAC's plan before departure, after visiting North America, they intended to visit Pacific countries, Southeast Asia, East Asia, and South Asia along the Pacific route.

Then, crossing the Arabian Sea, they entered the Middle East, and via the Red Sea visited Egypt—the oldest known magical land that has survived to the present day.

Then, after passing through the Suez Canal into the Mediterranean Sea, they visited the Durmstrang School of Magic in Bulgaria on the Balkan Peninsula, and the Beauxbatons School of Magic near the Pyrenees in southern France.

Then they returned to England from Gibraltar.

Of course, their return route was still the same, but most of their travel plans were cancelled.

After all, the original visit plan was based on the establishment of WAC in North America, and the so-called visit was actually to prepare for cooperation with various countries.

Now that WAC's landing in North America has been thwarted, it has instead lured away a group of North American werewolves. If they proceed with the original plan to visit now, it may cause unnecessary misunderstandings.

As for why they didn't return through magical means, it's because there were too many people. The newly recruited North American werewolves weren't completely subjugated, so they couldn't be allowed to access long-distance teleportation methods like portal keys.

Currently confirmed visits are only to some island nations in the Pacific Ocean that belong to the Commonwealth of Nations.

These island nations are small and sparsely populated, with even fewer wizards. If werewolves were to infiltrate, it would cause a prolonged disaster.

Therefore, they are the group with the fewest political considerations when cooperating with WAC—as long as it helps them eliminate the threat of werewolves, they don't care about the so-called international trade system.

Anyway, even without WAC, other major powers would drag them onto their war machine, so it doesn't matter who they follow.

Compared to WAC, at least WAC's core trade item, Wolfsbane Potion, can safely and without any hidden dangers deal with werewolves!

The whole process was uneventful; it was simply that after the cruise ship docked at an island nation, Vaughn, along with several WAC executive committee members, attended a banquet hosted by the local magic association.

Then you just listen to those island nation magic leaders who are used to "groveling" spouting nice platitudes!

It doesn't really pique anyone's interest.

Aside from that, life at sea was also very boring, with the same unchanging vast ocean every day.

As Vaughn and his companions boarded the cruise ship and slowly crossed the Pacific Ocean back to Europe, September was approaching, and the start of Hogwarts was just around the corner. The English wizarding world, which had been quiet all summer, was bustling with activity once again.

Ron—

—

Early in the morning, Molly's roar echoed throughout the Burrow.

Sitting in the living room, Arthur instinctively hid his head behind the newspaper.

Before long, he heard his wife's heavy footsteps going upstairs, followed by the sound of her chanting incantations, the sound of the door being blasted open, and Ron's screams.

"—The Weasleys have never had such a lazy child as you. Bill, Charlie, Percy, they're all so easy to manage. Even the mischievous Fred and George know the benefits of diligence, not to mention Vaughn—"

Accompanied by incessant scolding, heavy footsteps sounded from above.

Soon, Arthur saw Molly twist Ron's sleepy ears and pull him off.

Poor Ronald!

Arthur could only feel sympathy for his youngest son silently; it was impossible for him to offer words of comfort, as that would only draw the anger to him.

Since Vaughn left, Molly's temper has gotten worse every day. Everyone knows she's worried about Vaughn's safety, so no one dares to mess with her.

Only Ron, who frequently corresponded with Harry during this time, secretly writing letters to Harry every night, caused him to sleep in late every morning, making him the perfect punching bag.

As is customary for the past few days, Ron would be scolded for at least an hour before Molly would calm down.

But he was lucky today.

Arthur, buried in his newspaper, spotted an exciting headline and finally dared to peek out, calling to Molly, "Darling, look! Vaughn is on his way back to England!"

"What?"

Molly looked delighted.

Ron, who should have been relieved, immediately looked dejected.

The days when Vaughn left this house were the happiest days of his 12 years. Finally, he no longer had to see that face that he hated, envied, and vaguely feared every day.

There was no teasing or bullying.

Every morning when he woke up, the air smelled sweet, because the attic upstairs no longer emitted the agonizing smell of brewing potions that tormented him every day.

hateful!

Why are happy times so short?

Unfortunately, no one cared about his thoughts. Molly rushed into the living room excitedly, and Arthur loudly read aloud the news report related to Vaughn: "—It is reported that the WAC delegation led by Mr. Vaughn Weasley has concluded its visit to North America and is on its way back to Europe. The delegation arrived in Fiji yesterday. The Ministries of Magic in Fiji, Niue, Tonga, Samoa, and other Pacific Commonwealth regions organized a grand banquet to warmly welcome Mr. Vaughn Weasley and his entourage—"

"—Tonga's Minister of Magic, Tawfaahau, praised Mr. Vaughn Weasley and his invention of the wolfsbane potion, telling reporters that the wolfsbane potion completely solved Tonga's 20-year-long problem of the spread of wolf disease—"

Arthur's reading was full of intonation and rhythm.

Molly listened with great interest.

"Merlin, Arthur, our darling is finally leaving dangerous America and is coming back—you have no idea how worried I was—"

"I know, darling, I was worried too, but isn't everything alright for Vaughn now? Stop crying, look, our son is a big shot now, look, he's treated like the Minister of Magic when he visits these countries!"

"Where are those places called Fiji and Tonga?"

—

Ron couldn't stand it anymore and went back to his room sullenly. The midday sun shone through the window, making the room bright and cheerful.

But Ron's mood was gloomy.

He stared blankly for a while, watching Banban carefree munching on a biscuit in the cage, and felt a pang of envy: "Sigh, Banban, if only I could be like you, knowing nothing, having nothing to worry about, just eating and sleeping all day long, sleeping in late without Mom twisting my ears, and not having to worry about that wretched Vaughn coming back—"

Vaughn?

Banban, who was munching on a biscuit, paused, a great look of confusion flashing in her small eyes.

That name sounds familiar. Have I heard it somewhere before?

He tried to think, but soon, a wisp of milky white mist filled his vision, and the thoughts and memories that had just become active in his brain were suppressed again.

A soft, almost whispered murmur echoed in his mind: "I am Spotted Mouse, Spotted Mouse—I am a mouse, I am a mouse—a mouse—"

Yes, I'm a mouse, so why am I always thinking about things that humans should be thinking about?

Mmm, these cookies smell delicious!

As the fog dissipated, Banban's small eyes regained their innocent and naive look, just as Ron had envied, carefree enjoying the happy life of a mouse.

There's not much to say about my visit to the Pacific island nations.

These island nations are playthings of powerful nations in both Muggle society and the magical world. Their small land area and sparse population mean that they can hardly play a valuable role in many matters, except when the Federation needs them to vote to check and balance the powerful nations.

After leaving Tonga, the cruise ship did not continue westward to neighboring New Zealand, but instead headed towards Australia. It did not stop there either, and instead headed north at full speed towards Southeast Asia.

On the return journey, no longer needing to worry about attacks from the American magical world as they had on their way to North America, Vaughn and the others did not travel on a Muggle ship. Instead, after discussions between Dumbledore and Arkinbard, they selected a ship belonging to the Federation and which had undergone magical modifications from the Federation's South American base. Only the Federation, which upholds the orthodoxy of the Statute of Secrets, would dare to openly use magic to modify Muggle-made equipment.

It moved very fast, and a little over a day later, it crossed the vast ocean and arrived in the Philippines.

The cruise ship stopped in Cebu for a short rest and resupply. According to the itinerary, after this stop, the next rest will have to wait until it arrives in Egypt.

As an outlier in Asia, the Philippines is filled with Latin American influences, and like its Muggle society, the magical community in the Philippines follows the lead of the United States.

Since Dumbledore took Vaughn away from North America, the power struggle within the Magical Congress has intensified, and some information that should have been kept secret has gradually been leaked due to the reduced control caused by the power struggle.

For example, the death of Josiah Parker, the Speaker of the Magic Council.

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