Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 232 Dumbledore's Weakness

In summary, his goal for his second year was to promote academic exchanges on potions among universities worldwide, centered around side quest ⑤. This could be broken down into several parts: the iteration of the wolfsbane potion, which he needed to complete independently; the exploration of medicinal properties, including the improvement of magic extraction methods, which required collaboration; and the development of new potions during exchange activities.

In addition, there is another plan that cannot be made public—

Guide Harry and the notebook's fate to become intertwined, and once fate is "fulfilled," obtain the notebook and complete the main quest!

[Main Quest 3: Return to England, enroll in Hogwarts, and obtain Tom Riddle's notebook]

[Reward: 1 Talent Point, 50 Magic Scales]

Thinking about it, he looked down at the floor, or rather, "looked" down at Ron's bedroom, where Harry was already asleep.

He cannot see his destiny.

He didn't know what state Harry and the notebook were in at this moment, caught in the web of fate, but he knew the situation must be very bad.

Otherwise, Dumbledore would not have tolerated his "scheme"!

Yes, the main reason he plotted to kill Alexander and Tyler, but wasn't worried about Dumbledore, was because of Harry and the notebook!

He had never forgotten that Dumbledore had said that the disturbance he and the WAC caused in the web of fate had clearly interfered with the two chosen ones.

Harry is Dumbledore's Achilles' heel!

Old Deng is getting old.

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If he were still young and had plenty of time, he would never let go of an ambitious man like Vaughn.

Seventy years ago, when he discovered that Gettler Grindelwald was trying to use the shadow of war in Muggle society to subvert the world order, he did not hesitate to send Newt and others to help him retrieve the Blood Pact token so that he could regain the ability to harm Grindelwald.

Forty years ago, when he discovered that Tom Riddle was cultivating Death Eaters at the school and plotting to seize power, he did not hesitate for a moment to expel him from Hogwarts.

In his youth, Dumbledore was a rather twisted conservative and authoritarian figure.

On the one hand, he himself did not agree with the traditional conservative views. He was well aware of the terrible situation that would result if pure-blooded people were allowed to seize power and block the path to advancement in the magical world.

On the other hand, he was unwilling to push for reform, or rather, unwilling to break the existing rules and cause the magical world to lose its peace and tranquility.

He certainly knew what the root problems of this society were, where things went wrong, and how to solve those problems.

Those bad places need to have the existing order destroyed and a new framework reshaped, a completely new set of more competitive rules.

But he didn't do it.

Perhaps it's out of fear of the turmoil caused by revolution, or perhaps it's simply a matter of maintaining stability.

In short, he was like a patcher, patching things up over the years, using his magic and prestige to try to keep the magical world in the way he knew it.

Until he gradually grew old and frail!

In that brief encounter in Amelia's office today, Vaughn saw his silence, his hesitation, his concessions, and his compromises!

"He's too old. The twilight is around him, and he might die at any moment—so he has neither the energy nor the inclination to worry about the future impact of my schemes. Right now, all he wants to do in the end is ensure that Harry survives his entanglement with Tom's fate."

Vaughn recalled once again what Dumbledore had told him at the beginning of the year: that his and the WAC's rise was interfering with Harry and Tom's fate.

That conversation was the first time he saw a burning light shine in Dumbledore's seemingly eternally calm, deep blue eyes.

That light represents hope!

It was after that that Dumbledore began to work closely with him.

"So, for Harry's sake, as long as it benefits me and WAC, and allows my and WAC's influence to more strongly interfere with the fate of Harry and Tom, he is willing to turn a blind eye, even if it means abandoning his principles to some extent."

Thinking about it, Vaughn sighed.

A strange sense of desolation welled up in my heart.

Dumbledore's reaction today was certainly good news for him, but on the other hand, it also made him feel a little disappointed by the other party's compromise.

It's hard not to feel regret that a living legend of England would make such a "cowardly" choice!

"However, we can't let our guard down," Vaughn thought. "Although Dumbledore has never seemed to have much of a thirst for power, it's not that he's incapable of political maneuvering, but rather that he doesn't want me to go too far and make him feel that I'm a greater threat than Voldemort—"

That would be bad.

After thinking for a while and waiting for the automatic quill to record the data, Vaughn got up and went downstairs.

Gently push open the door to Ron's bedroom.

The room, plastered with posters of Charlie Hebdo, was almost entirely orange from walls to ceiling, and Ron and Harry were snoring loudly.

Only near the windowsill, in the past few months, has been the increasingly rat-like Spotted, active in its cage.

Hearing the door open, Banban, who was holding cookies, turned around and looked back, then paused in surprise.

Suddenly, a multitude of random thoughts surged into my empty mind.

This person looks so familiar...

Why are you afraid?

Huh? Why is my thinking so smooth? I—

With a "biu" sound, a ray of red light fell on Banban, and Banban fainted.

Vaughn, wand between his fingers, walked to the desk to examine the other person, flicked his wand, and a wisp of smoke was drawn out of Scabbers' body.

"Hmm—Any magic requires the combined action of magic power and emotions to maintain, and the Persona is no exception. Once implanted into a host, it will not exist permanently, but will gradually weaken in effectiveness over time—Second year has an additional task: the Persona needs to be further improved."

"Speaking of which, how does the werewolf virus manage to maintain its effectiveness indefinitely? That's a very worthwhile topic to study—"

My thoughts wandered a bit.

Vaughn then composed himself, stirred his wand a few times, and wrapped the white mist he had drawn from Scabbers' body around the tip of his wand before going to Harry's bedside.

Even as he lay asleep in bed, the Savior clung tightly to the notebook.

A faint glint flashed in Vaughn's eyes. Through his magical vision, he could clearly see the spiritual light emanating from Harry, shrouded in mist and shimmering with five colors.

But they are not as active as when they are awake during the day.

This is a typical sleep state.

The notebook in his arms showed no abnormality in the magical vision; it was just an ordinary, gray outline without a trace of light.

Having already gained some understanding of the notebook's strangeness through previous investigations, Vaughn wasn't surprised this time. He simply flicked his wand, throwing the white mist swirling around its tip. Based on his own experience and that of Fruit Tea, Vaughn could basically conclude that the notebook itself lacked the ability to perceive the outside world.

According to Vaughn's speculation, it was probably because no wizard had provided it with magic for more than ten years, causing the magic on it to lack "energy" and its effects to weaken.

Of course, these past few days it has been with Harry, and Harry, who has only a vague understanding of magical items, has been communicating with it without any reservations. As a result, it has absorbed some of Harry's life force and has recovered somewhat.

However, it only recovered a little bit.

Just enough for Vaughn to do his experiments!

The white mist drifted lightly onto the notebook. The notebook's thick parchment cover was coated with waterproof paint, but as soon as the mist landed, the mist threads began to wriggle, slowly bypassing the cover and sliding into the inner pages.

The strands resembled a wriggling worm or some small animal.

Standing by the bed, Vaughn constantly switched between magical visions while maintaining the Multispectral Vision Charm, observing it.

Gradually, as if sensing something touching him, the notebook in Vaughn's eyes, which had only a dark outline, suddenly lit up with a faint light.

As the halo appeared, several streaks of light also emerged into normal vision. They were actually several moving ink stains that strangely detached from the notebook and "pierced" into the white mist.

The dense black color rapidly spread through the white mist, only to quickly recede a second later.

Then, the notebook suddenly opened, its pages flipping rapidly, as if in a freeze-motion animation, forming a blurry, angry face through the ink: "It's you again, you damned rat, get out of here!"

The howling, a result of mental suggestion, echoed through the air.

That is not a real sound, but a conscious life form that can perceive "thoughts" and "spiritual language".

It's like some kind of powerful memory spell!

If it were a real insect or small animal, it would most likely be frightened by this "whistling" sound and turn to run away.

But the white mist is not a conscious life form; it was simply extracted from the rat Scabbers, copied Scabbers' memories, and imitated Scabbers' consciousness structure. From a spiritual perspective, it is just like Scabbers' personality cloak.

It is controlled by Vaughn.

Vaughn coldly observed the roaring human face that appeared on the notebook's inner pages. His wand swayed slightly, and the white mist, under his control, continued to slide across the pages.

In his eyes, it was clear that with the harassment from "Banban," the brilliance displayed by the laptop began to stir and become chaotic.

"Get out of here!"

"You filthy, despicable thing!"

The notebook, having reached its limit, unleashed two more mental shocks, and then its brilliance visibly faded away.

"As expected, it didn't accumulate much magic power—"

According to the Golden Soul theory, aura is the outward manifestation of the nature and spirit of things. Its color and brightness faithfully reflect the state of a macroscopic object in terms of both reality and illusion (matter and spirit; as mentioned earlier, the Golden Soul believes that all things have both reality and illusion).

At this moment, the notebook's brilliance dimmed, faithfully reflecting its weakness and its bluster.

The laptop is naturally more aware of this.

Therefore, after two times, it stopped "casting the spell," and in Vaughn's magical vision and vision spell, it was clearly seen that ink stains reappeared on the surface of its inner pages.

Black lines, like swimming snakes, swiftly "pierced" into the white mist, staining it once more.

This time, instead of retreating quickly, it silently and fiercely attacked the tiny specks of light within the white mist, which resembled stars and represented memories.

Then, the blackness eroded the light spots, injecting something into them!

"Manipulating consciousness —"

Vaughn observed silently.

Through his observations over the past few days, he has learned about some of the basic functions of the notebook. This Horcrux, which Voldemort made in his early years, is made using very crude and rudimentary techniques, apart from the Horcrux dark magic itself.

After all, Voldemort, who was still in school back then, didn't have as many strange and troublesome curses as he did later.

This notebook, aside from being "indestructible" as is characteristic of Horcruxes and dark magic, was only imbued with magic that reads/devours memories, manipulates consciousness, and drains life force.

Moreover, its strength is not high.

Especially the awareness of control.

In Vaughn's original memory, Ginny, who had only been enrolled for less than half a year and was still a novice in magic, was able to temporarily get rid of her notebook.

Clearly, at this moment, the laptop is probably suppressing its disgust and trying to control the "lowly rat" it's talking about, attempting to get rid of it.

If it were a real mouse, it would naturally be unable to resist magic.

But what it erodes and manipulates is a false consciousness, a powerful magic at the spiritual and conscious level that is enough to deceive the eye.

Moreover, Vaughn deliberately allowed it to corrode!

Soon, the white mist clinging to the notebook's pages was completely stained black. When all the light spots turned pitch black, Vaughn manipulated the mist to drift away from the notebook.

At the same time, the notebook, realizing its "success," retracted the ink stain.

Of course, it couldn't notice that wisps of white mist were wrapped around the ink stains and carried into the notebook!

When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you!

Sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle was indeed a prodigy, independently researching and learning the most vicious and profound dark magic, and creating Horcruxes.

However, compared to Vaughn, the young Voldemort's thinking was still not thorough enough. He probably never imagined that someone would invent Persona, a bizarre magic that combines disguise, intrusion, and infiltration, with the main purpose of secretly crossing the Chenchen River and deceiving everyone.

In the notebook's perception, the whole process was very simple: Harry Potter's roommate's damn rat came to bother him, and in order to save energy and avoid complications, he took the initiative to invade the rat's consciousness and manipulate it to leave.

There's nothing unusual!

Because it has encountered this situation more than once in the past few days.

Yes, over the past few days, Vaughn has influenced Banban through a persona disguise, attempting to harass him multiple times and gradually numb Notebook0.

Only today did he truly begin implanting a personality device into the notebook!

"This is a safety measure."

Only when he sensed the mist being carried into the notebook by the ink stains and merging into a vast void did Vaughn, who had been concentrating intently, finally breathe a sigh of relief.

"A notebook is not a living thing; one cannot take root in it, absorb its distractions to grow stronger. But it can serve as a coordinate, a monitor, to track the notebook's movements and, when necessary, interfere with it."

"After all, school is about to start, and the school environment is more complicated than the Burrow. I can't keep an eye on Harry with Fruit Tea all the time."

I casually gave Banban a new personality outfit.

Vaughn left Harry's bedside silently, exited the bedroom, and a gentle breeze closed the door behind him.

But instead of returning to the attic immediately, he went to the window on the platform and looked out at the reeds swaying in the wind under the moonlight, like an ocean.

There is also a garden.

There were faint sounds coming from that direction.

Boom!

Boom!

It looked like someone was kowtowing.

At this moment, there was indeed a short "person" in the garden, repeatedly banging its head against the stones used to build the flower bed.

While ramming into the car, it cursed itself in a low, shrill voice: "Bad Dobby, bad Dobby, I didn't stop my master, I didn't stop Harry Potter!"

"Oh my god, he got the notebook! That evil thing is with Harry Potter! Bad Dobby, incompetent Dobby!"

"Dobby can't let Harry Potter go to Hogwarts! He'll die! Dobby has to stop him!"

How can we stop it?

Dobby clutched his head, which had already swelled up from the bump, in despair. Of course, he dared not venture into the Burrow, the dwelling of a noble wizard.

And there's the formidable Vaughn Weasley.

Dobby had just been to Diagon Alley this morning and was terrified by the menacing werewolves who were supposedly under Vaughn Weasley's command.

How could I dare to provoke them!

Not to mention, when he was at Malfoy Manor, he often heard his master and young master expressing their fear of Vaughn Weasley. His master loved to curse the red-haired Weasley in private, but he never uttered a bad word about Vaughn Weasley.

Dobby sensed fear only from his master's attitude.

Do not break into the Burrow and steal the notebook from Harry Potter.

What other options are there?

Dobi is in a terrible predicament.

Harry Potter is going to the train station with the Weasleys tomorrow to head to Hogwarts; he won't find another chance.

and many more!

Dobby's eyes suddenly lit up; he had a brilliant idea!

But before Dobby could think things through, the air in front of him trembled a few times, and a strange sphere, accompanied by a distorted vortex, slowly emerged.

The next second, a fair and slender hand emerged from the sphere.

As Dobby stared in shock, the eerie hand pressed down on his head. The thought of fear had barely formed when, before he could react, a thick fog suddenly erupted, engulfing his head!

In an instant, Dobby fainted.

The slender, pale hand slowly retracted, the sphere spun a few times, and disappeared into the air. The garden returned to silence. A few seconds later, Dobby opened his eyes and looked around at his surroundings in a daze.

"Where...where is this?"

"Dobby—Dobby has to go back—he has to take his little master home tomorrow—"

He murmured to himself, completely forgetting his purpose for coming here, and forgetting his worries about Harry Potter, then snapped his fingers and disappeared.

On the fifth-floor platform of the humble abode, sensing the disappearance of the magical fluctuations, Vaughn remained expressionless.

In the inertia of "history," or rather, in the arrangement of fate, Dobby is the only variable beyond his control. He cannot allow this guy to drift out of his control and cause trouble with impunity.

Especially tomorrow.

If the other side does the same as in the original "history" and blocks Platform Nine and Three-Quarters in order to prevent Harry from going to Hogwarts, it will undoubtedly cause a lot of trouble.

To avoid always being a babysitter, I should bring that guy under my control!

After doing all this, Vaughn returned to Göyan, spread out a piece of parchment, thought for a moment, simplified the instructions he had just given the notebook, wrote them down on it, and then sealed it in an envelope.

Then he took a feather from his satchel and lit it.

Late at night, at Hogwarts.

The castle, which had been quiet for two months, was not affected by the upcoming start of the school year.

The large, unlit rooms maintained their usual deep and somber atmosphere, with the wind blowing from the jungle and the Black Lake whistling through the deserted corridors.

This dark castle, perched on a cliff, has only two places lit up: one is the library, which is the hell for the seventh graders.

The other place was the headmaster's office, which was Snape's hell—

"What kind of ridiculous boasting are you spouting now?"

In the brightly lit headmaster's office, Snape had lost his usual calm and gloomy demeanor. His dark eyes were bloodshot as he glared at Dumbledore, his greasy long hair swaying beside his twitching face: "Last semester, Voldemort—the Man of Darkness was a parasite on Quirinus. That was an accident, beyond your control. You said you had to break the Man of Darkness back into a remnant soul to protect Harry Potter. Fine, I believe you. I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

"But what about this time?"

The angry, out-of-control roar made the portraits of past principals hanging on the wall pause for a moment.

Several of the old headmasters grumbled as they turned over and fell into a deep sleep again under the influence of magic. Only Headmaster Weasley opened his eyes and looked down into the drawing room.

In her memory, Potions Professor Severus Snape, though a gloomy and eccentric person, was at most just weird and eccentric.

She had never seen him so angry as he was today.

The sound was so loud it sounded like it was going to blow the roof off a castle.

"—No surprises, no conspiracies, I only see an arrogant, foolish, senile old man who thinks he can control everything, and then prepares to let that poor child walk into Hogwarts carrying his enemy!"

"Severus, that's fate—"

"That's enough!"

Snape's eyes were bloodshot; if looks could wound, Dumbledore would probably have been riddled with holes by them: "Don't blame everything on damned fate. I don't believe in those things. Only a senile old fool like you would fawn over something that doesn't exist—"

Snape launched into a tirade of profanities.

Across from him, Dumbledore sighed inwardly.

He knew why Snape rejected fate.

Because many years ago, it was Snape who conveyed the prophetic words to the Dark Lord, which led to the Potter family's demise.

Lily Evans also died at Potter's old house.

Snape always felt that damned fate had played a trick on him, and he hated himself as well as the mischievous and ruthless "god".

Therefore, Dumbledore didn't care about Snape's harsh words.

He patiently let Snape vent his anger, and only after Snape had calmed down did Dumbledore slowly say, "Even if you don't believe me, you should believe Vaughn. You know he won't play along with my nonsense."

Hearing Fownn's name did calm Snape down a bit, but he still relentlessly retorted, "Ha, what a great White Lord, so heartless. Anyone who gets close to me, you immediately use them as leverage to control and restrain me, don't you?"