Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 226 Interacting with Notebooks

'

""

Harry paused, about to write something else.

The handwriting appearing on the notebook changed again:

I understand your feelings for him. As you said, he has helped you a lot, taught you knowledge, given you special training, and helped you defend against powerful enemies. But my friend, people's hearts are very complicated. Sometimes, the people who are good to you may not have your interests or beliefs in mind, and sometimes, the people who are bad to you may be doing it to protect you.

Looking at these words, for some reason, Harry suddenly thought of Snape.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly wrote:

[What did you mean when you said there were traces of his magic in my body?]

The handwriting in the notebook quickly appeared:

[Literally, he cast a spell on you, and that spell is still inside you!]

[I can feel that spell is constantly at work; it resides in your brain, influencing your consciousness. Haven't you ever noticed? The special training you mentioned, the incomprehensible behavior it makes you do—that's clearly you being infected, manipulated, and controlled by it—think carefully, use Occlumency to think about it properly, why aren't you afraid or repulsed by being controlled?]

Brain shut-in surgery —

Beneath the sheet, a wisp of confusion, a wisp of white mist, flickered in Harry's eyes.

In the realm of the mind, his consciousness was like being caught in a raging storm, with all his memories and distracting thoughts struggling and twisting.

A chilling "darkness" surged from the depths of my soul; it represented the power of the Occupy Central technique.

It forms a web, creating the dark background of the mental world, spreading towards the surface of consciousness.

It is very fast.

Like a fleeting glimpse, in an instant, from the infinite depths, as if a black curtain had been drawn, it enveloped everything in the world of the mind.

Wherever it passed, wisps of white mist were "squeezed" out, twisting and writhing, lodging on the surface of memories and distracting thoughts.

However, just as the entire mental world was about to be covered in darkness, a ray of red light appeared.

reality.

A great deal of white mist leaked from Harry, enveloping the entire bedroom.

Then, the bedroom door opened silently, and the elder wand, covered in knuckles, reached in from outside. Red light, like a nimble little snake, shot through the room, silently striking Ron, Harry, and Scabbers, who was carefree eating biscuits by the window.

Under the LV5 (MAX) Stun Curse, the two young wizards and the adult Animagus fell into a deep sleep, completely unable to resist.

Through the hazy mist, the door opened, and a blurry figure holding an elder wand entered the bedroom and came to Harry's bedside.

The thin blanket seemed to be pulled by an invisible hand, sliding off the unconscious Harry to reveal the open notebook on the bed underneath.

On the originally blank pages of the notebook, writing was frantically scribbling:

[Harry Potter? Are you alright?]

【Harry————】

The blurry figure standing by the bed looked down at the notebook, remaining silent.

A few seconds later, he stretched out his long, slender, fair hand and pressed it on the page that was frantically scrolling through the screen.

The writing abruptly stopped!

moment.

A line of text appeared: "Hello, Vaughn Weasley!"

The misty white fog inside swirled and dissipated, and moonlight seeped in, its soft, veil-like glow illuminating Vaughn's expressionless face beside Harry's bed.

He looked down at the notebook, a light flickering in his eyes.

[Mr. Vaughn Weasley, perhaps we can talk. In our conversations over the past few days, Harry Potter has told me a great deal about you. Your talent, wisdom, and ideals have deeply impressed me.]

On the notebook's inner pages, lines of text kept appearing:

In all my long years, I have hardly seen a more gifted young wizard than you. A Potions Master at the age of 12, you single-handedly rallied werewolves, established a werewolf affairs organization, and built an international trade system for wolfsbane potions—in the thousands of years of the magical world, no wizard has achieved so much at such a young age, not even Dumbledore.

"Oh!"

Looking at the words that subtly carried a hint of flattery and ingratiation, Vaughn smiled.

The remnant soul inside the notebook originates from Tom 50 years ago, when he was still "weak" and had not yet become the Socket Man, so he could pretend and submit.

There was no subsequent madness or psychological distortion in his mind and body.

If this happened to someone else, upon learning the true identity of the remnant soul within the notebook, they might keep their distance, whether out of disgust or wariness.

Voldemort, the Dark Lord, is undoubtedly one of the most powerful wizards in the world in the last hundred years. In fact, because of his mastery of dark magic, he is also the wizard that people fear the most.

But Vaughn had a different opinion from others.

In his eyes, there is no one who cannot be won over and cooperated with; as long as a person exists, they have value, unless that person is crazy.

Voldemort, after becoming the Socket Man, is clearly a madman.

But what about Tom Riddle before he became Socket Man?

As he thought about it, Vaughn's expression became quite interested. He was still very curious about Tom Riddle, partly because he was curious about the other man's magic.

Dumbledore himself said that Tom was a legendary wizard specializing in dark magic, and that he embarked on his legendary path very early on. Dumbledore speculated that the exact time was between Tom's graduation and his return to school to apply for a professorship in Defense Against the Dark Arts, when Tom was only in his early twenties.

The timeframe can even be narrowed down. According to what Lao Deng knows, after graduating, Tom did odd jobs for a while and worked as a shop assistant at Boking Bock for several years.

Then one day, he suddenly disappeared, and when he reappeared, his appearance had changed.

In the magical world, an object exists in two aspects: material and spiritual. These two aspects exist in different ways, yet they are dialectically unified.

Therefore, changes in appearance may not only be a transformation of the body, but also related to changes in the soul.

When Dumbledore talked to Vaughn about Tom a few months ago, he had speculated that the change in Tom might be due to him practicing some obscure, soul-related spell.

At first, Lao Deng suspected it was a Horcrux, but he didn't know how to verify it.

However, now that we know from Vaughn that Tom opened the secret chamber, his speculations about the Horcruxes and the changes in Tom's soul will likely have to be overturned.

This is another point of interest for Vaughn regarding Tom Riddell—what exactly did the other man obtain from the secret room?

The existence of the secret room is a top secret to the outside world, but it is not really a secret to the Gaunt family.

In the thousand years since Slytherin's death, the Gaunt family has opened the Chamber of Secrets more than once. The most recent time, apart from Voldemort, was when Cornovice Gaunt participated in the construction of the underground pipe system at Hogwarts in the 18th century and hid the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets again.

Vaughn had initially assumed that the valuables in the secret room had probably been taken by the Gaunt family long ago, which was why he hadn't been particularly interested in it before.

But since last semester, after reading the poems left by the Ravenclaw ladies, he had a vague feeling that the other founders might have also built secret rooms.

And then there's the memory of Morfin Gaunt, where I saw the Gaunt family's decline, and the unreasonably rapid magical advancement of Tom Riddle.

Vaughn's original conjecture was somewhat shaken. Voldemort's transformation on the path of magic might have nothing to do with the Gaunt family. After all, what resources did the Gaunt family, which had fallen to the point where only Morfin Gaunt remained, have to support Voldemort's legendary journey in just a few years?

As mentioned earlier, the development of modern spell systems lacks theoretical support, so it is merely an application system. The real research work begins with ancient magic.

Ancient magical research, like Muggle scientific research, is not something that can be accomplished by simply sitting in a room and thinking; it is extremely costly.

Not only are numerous ritual items required, but also the coordination of herbs, potions, and celestial phenomena. In modern times, with the rapid expansion of Muggles and the shrinking of the magical world, acquiring these items has become extremely expensive.

Of course, the secret room that Voldemort opened may indeed no longer have any value, but—the remnant soul that was created after the secret room incident and put into the notebook by Voldemort has experienced the secret room, so its value is hard to say!

However, we can't rush it!

Thinking this, Vaughn's hand, which was resting on the notebook page, flashed slightly. He used a writing spell—one he had hardly ever used, relying entirely on his talent to occasionally practice and reach LV4—to write down a line of text:

Are you some kind of alchemical creation?

The "notebook" paused for a moment, then a large amount of text appeared:

[His masterful spell-writing, silent and without a wand, is almost on par with the greatest wizards I know. Merlin, you are only 12 years old! Unbelievable!]

Yes, esteemed Mr. Vaughn Weasley, I am a self-aware, humble alchemical creation, and it is an honor to answer your question.

The flattery and ingratiation were practically overflowing from the words.

The young "Socket Man" was quite unpretentious!

Of course, Vaughn knew very well that this flattery and ingratiation was not only because the laptop was flexible, but also because the other party was currently very "weak".

Vaughn could clearly sense its magical glow, faint as a candle flame.

It's possible that in a few years, it will become so weak that it won't even be able to respond.

"Perhaps this is also why Voldemort never chose to make Horcruxes from ordinary items again after the Notebook. When Voldemort was powerful, he did not give the Notebook to Bellatrix to put in the vault, but gave it to Lucius, probably thinking that Lucius would maintain it."

But he didn't expect that after his "death," Lucius Malfoy would quickly and "properly" preserve the notebook.

What is meant by "properly" is that the notebook has never seen a living person since then.

The existence of magical creations requires the nourishment of magic, and some demanding magical creations even require mystery.

For decades, this notebook has never been powered, absorbed any life force or magic, or had any rituals performed for it.

Even seemingly bizarre Horcruxes must succumb to the passage of time.

Pitiful----

"Time is the most powerful magic—"

With a silent sigh, Vaughn's hand lit up again—

"ah!

""

At dawn, Harry sat up with a start, his pupils contracting sharply as he reflected the scene in his bedroom in the dim morning light. He glanced several times, still shaken, at the moving "Charlie's Cannonball Team" posters.

Harry's mind had just snapped out of the nightmare.

The next second, he remembered something and quickly pulled back the covers.

Seeing the familiar notebook lying beside him, he breathed a sigh of relief. As his consciousness left the dream, he remembered communicating with the notebook yesterday, but for some reason he fell asleep.

As for the content of the exchange—

A flicker of doubt crossed Harry's eyes—he had forgotten—

The feeling was strange. He clearly remembered writing something in his notebook with a quill pen, but now, when he thought back, everything before he went to sleep seemed like a dream, hazy and indistinct, and he couldn't remember any of the details.

Harry fumbled around the bedside table, found the quill pen, and was about to ask the notebook about it.

On the next bed, Ron, disturbed by him, groggily got up.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"Uh—sorry Ron, I had a nightmare."

"All right----"

Harry looked at Ron expectantly, hoping that the other would go back to bed and sleep in as usual.

But today he was disappointed.

Ron struggled to get out of bed, muttering as he groggily dressed, "Now that you're awake, Harry, get up."

"Oh? Something's up today?"

"You forgot? Fred and George are taking us to Weasel Hill to practice Quidditch today."

Harry paused for a moment before remembering that a few days ago, when Mr. Weasley picked him up from Privet Drive to take him to the Burrow, he had told him that Weasley Hill was a good place to practice Quidditch.

He was so excited that he casually made plans with the twins and Ron to practice there that day.

I forgot about it these past couple of days because of my laptop.

"—Of course I haven't forgotten." Harry forced a smile, trying to stall for time. "But, is today a good day?"

Ron glanced at him curiously, then looked at the sky outside. "What's wrong? The weather's nice. Harry, you're not thinking of slacking off, are you? You haven't touched a broom all summer!"

Harry had nothing to say.

In fact, if it weren't for the notebook on his mind, he felt he would have had a great time at the Burial.

Life at the Weasleys' house was completely different from that at Privet Drive, where everything was meticulously organized and orderly.

My aunt and uncle considered themselves middle class and demanded respectability and etiquette in everything they did. Of course, that respectability and etiquette wasn't for him, but rather a requirement for him to retreat to the attic when there were guests.

It seems that his very existence is undignified.

The Weasleys were different. No one considered him superfluous; everyone welcomed him. Mrs. Molly always warmly embraced him and called him her darling.

Arthur liked to ask him about Muggle society, especially Muggle technology, even though he didn't understand it.

The Weasley children were the same; Ron, the twins, and Percy were his best friends at Hogwarts last semester.

Even Ginny likes him a lot—this isn't Harry being narcissistic, Ginny is always shy around him, and he's seen a lot of him at Hogwarts over the past year.

Moreover, he believes that things will definitely improve when Ginny faces him again after she starts school this year.

Hmph, those Gryffindor guys will definitely tell the freshmen all about the crazy things he did last semester!

And Vaughn—

Huh?

Riding the Nimbus 2000, soaring above Weasel Mountain, I thought of Harry from Vaughn, and suddenly paused.

He saw Vaughn, dressed in a robe and with his signature red hair, and a graceful lady strolling in the orchards surrounding a stone house on the mountaintop below.

Ron, who was flying alongside him, noticed his distraction, slowly approached, followed his gaze downwards, and then curled his lip: "That's the crazy girl's mother."

Harry was taken aback: "What crazy girl?"

"The Lovegood girl, her name is—Luna? I think so. Ginny sometimes plays with her, but the other wizarding children don't like her. They say she's crazy. Some say it's because her mother often does magical experiments and damages her brain, while others say the entire Lovegood family is eccentric, it's a family trait."

Upon hearing this, Harry, who had been preoccupied with something all day, became slightly interested.

Aside from the Burrow, he hadn't seen any other wizarding families!

Unfortunately, Ron didn't know much either. According to him, of all the men in the entire village of St. Catchbolt, only his shameless brother, Vaughn Weasley, would play with little girls.

A tough guy like him would never give a little girl the time of his time!

The two chatted as they glided slowly through the sky—mainly to keep an eye on Ron's broken broom—while on the ground, Pandora was talking to Vaughn about Harry.

"Is that Harry Potter?"

"Yes, it's that famous savior. He's currently a guest at the Burrow. Would you and Luna like to go and meet him?"

"Haha, never mind, I've heard you complain before that he's Dumbledore's darling, so I'd better not join in the fun. — Speaking of which, I didn't really have a concept of how important he was when you told me before, but after seeing it with my own eyes, I found that he is indeed surrounded by many things."

Vaughn turned his head and glanced at Pandora, who was looking up at Harry's back. "What did you see?"

Pandora shrugged: "I didn't see much, it was all blurry. You know, wizarding families sometimes have some strange talents, and I think I inherited some too, but I'm not sure what kind. I can only sense a lot of messy lines around him, like insects, that's what I call them."

"Harassment?"

"Haha!" Pandora chuckled. "Did Luna tell you?"

Vaughn nodded: "I think it's necessary to figure out this talent and develop it properly."

"Let's talk about it later!" Pandora changed the subject, clearly uninterested. "I also noticed traces of your magic on him. Were you spying on him?"

"It's not exactly surveillance, just making sure he doesn't stray from the normal path."

As Vaughn spoke, he looked up. Harry and Ron were no longer in sight. He stared in the direction they had disappeared, his gaze deep.

Tom's notebook was far more adaptable than he had anticipated.

"Um?"

Last night, he did not do anything excessive to it. Instead, he treated it as a chain gold artifact, touched it slightly, and even pretended to be a little wizard who was basically wary of chain gold artifacts with intelligence, but was also full of curiosity, and "interrogated" it about its identity.

The notebook naturally tried its best to feign humility, attempting to defuse his "hostility."

However, after exchanging messages for just over ten minutes, Vaughn proactively cut off the connection with the laptop.

He wanted to control the pace of the conversation, and at the same time, he wanted to see how the notebook would describe last night's events in front of Harry.

Last night, Harry's memory naturally became blurred, but he deliberately didn't clear it completely.

Pandora had little interest in anything outside of magic.

Even the renowned Savior, if Luna weren't about to enroll at Hogwarts and be in the same school as him, she probably wouldn't have bothered asking him any more questions.

She certainly trusted Vaughn, but on the other hand, she didn't trust Dumbledore.

So she didn't ask Vaughn what he meant by "ensuring Harry Potter doesn't stray from the right path," but instead asked him, "Won't your plans affect other Hogwarts students, like my daughter?"

Vaughn replied, "Not for now."

Pandora was somewhat dissatisfied: "Temporarily? That means in the future—"

Vaughn interrupted her: "Pandora, my dear, you should know about Voldemort's prophecy."

Pandora nodded slightly. Although she herself did not have much status in the magical world, her husband did run The Quibbler, and Mr. Lovegood knew many "well-informed people".

This is normal.

Although The Quibbler is a niche magazine, it is loved by some people because it is not as easily influenced by the Ministry of Magic as The Daily Prophet, and often deliberately contradicts the Ministry of Magic.

Among these people were mixed-race individuals, pure-blood individuals, and even high-ranking officials from the Ministry of Magic.

Therefore, more than a decade ago, Pandora learned from her husband about the prophecies that should be kept secret in the Department of Mysteries.

"Born at the end of the seventh month — the Dark Lord marks him as a mortal enemy — one must die at the hands of the other —"

Pandora murmured the prophecy, and she began to understand what Vaughn was trying to say.

Sure enough, Vaughn said, "The prophecy interprets destiny. Destiny made Harry Potter and Voldemort twins, and only one of them can survive—Pandora. When the chosen ones collide, everyone will be swept up in it. You want Luna to be completely unaffected? That's impossible, because what decides everything isn't you or me, but destiny. No one can stop destiny!"

Of course, there are other options, Vaughn shrugged: "Unless you and Lovegood immigrate to France and Luna goes to Upper Beauxbatons!"

Upon hearing this, Pandora rolled her eyes.

To suggest to an Englishman that she immigrate to France and that her children attend French schools would be the greatest humiliation.

The century-old friendship between Britain and France is not only prevalent in Muggle society, but also in the magical world!

Since fate was at stake, Pandora couldn't say anything more, so she could only tell Vaughn to be careful not to mess things up with Dumbledore.

Moreover, there was another unexpected factor at Hogwarts that gave her a bit of a headache at the start of the new semester.

"Have you decided to hire Isabella as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

Vaughn nodded: "Yes, I know you're worried she's unreliable, but Pandora, Dumbledore and I have no other choice right now. Quirinus Quirrell's death last year terrified many wizards, and we haven't been able to find a new Defense Against the Law professor. Currently, only Isabella has volunteered. I hope you can understand our predicament."