Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 272 The Terrified Little Wizards

Not long after the poor Moro rat drank the potion, its fur completely fell out. Snape cheerfully congratulated Harry and Ron on inventing a powerful hair-loss agent, completely solving the hair-loss worries of the vast bald population.

Seemingly recalling the loud laughter of the Slytherins from yesterday, Harry and Ron shrank away, avoiding Snape's gaze. Then, a voice diverted their attention: "Good afternoon, Harry!"

The familiar voice sent a chill down Harry's spine.

He and Ron exchanged a glance, then turned around and, sure enough, saw Colin Crevey pushing his way in.

The boy, as usual, carried his old-fashioned camera and greeted everyone excitedly.

Harry forced a smile and replied, "Good afternoon, Colin—uh, you've signed up for the dueling club too?"

Seeing him, Colin was happy, but shook his head: "No, of course I wanted to come, but—it seems like you can't learn much here in your first year, yes, that's it, so I came with my classmates, they're over there."

Following the direction he pointed, Harry saw the edge of the upperclassmen in the distance, where some first-year students were huddled together like quails, and several of them were looking at him with excitement and curiosity in their eyes.

They've probably heard rumors about a savior.

Hogwarts only had first-year students who still harbored fairytale-like fantasies about Harry Potter, with Colin Crevey being the most fervent among them.

For example, right now, after greeting him, he asked Harry expectantly, "How will you perform in the dueling events, Harry?"

"What?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"A magical battle! Look, the Dueling Club, what a great opportunity! You shouldn't keep a low profile, Harry. You should take this chance to draw your wand and teach those Slytherins a lesson with magic. They've been spreading rumors and making fun of you lately!"

"Rumors?"

"Yeah, didn't you know? Yesterday they were all spreading rumors that you and Ron couldn't even brew a potion properly and poisoned a Moro rat."

Ron, standing nearby, immediately jumped up in anger: "Dishonorable! That Moro rat isn't dead, it just lost its fur—"

Harry quickly covered Ron's mouth, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead, and hurriedly changed the subject: "Uh, let's talk about the duel later. Colin, you don't look well, are you having trouble sleeping?"

This wasn't just Harry making things up; Colin Crevet did indeed look sickly, his already malnourished and pale skin looking completely bloodless and dull.

She also had huge dark circles under her eyes.

Upon hearing this, Colin Creevey's expression changed, his smile became forced, and he vehemently denied it: "Of course not, I rested very well, the beds at Hogwarts are much more comfortable than at home — alright, I won't bother you any longer, Harry, I'll go play with my classmates first, we'll talk again after the activities."

He ran away in a hurry.

The three watched him walk away, and Hermione suddenly exclaimed, "He's lying!"

“Of course he’d lie; the notebook is definitely not for human use,” Ron said. “If I had any doubts before, looking at him now, the notebook is definitely with him, and it’s got him hooked—poor, clueless guy. Like my dad always said, never trust anything that can think for itself unless you know where it hides its brain.”

Harry's face flushed as he listened; he was also the "poor, ignorant fellow" Ron had described.

Noticing Harry's awkward expression, Hermione changed the subject: "Have you figured out how to approach Crevy and get the notebook back?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, and under Hermione's increasingly serious gaze, they steeled themselves and shook their heads: "No—"

"Is it that you didn't think of it, or that you were too busy playing and forgot?" Hermione sneered.

"..——"

The two fell silent again; the answer was obvious.

Hermione wasn't particularly angry. After spending over a year with these two, she'd gotten used to their unreliability, but her expression remained serious: "You need to make a plan, Harry. How to approach Crevy, how to find the notebook without arousing suspicion—you need to think about all of this in advance. Or are you going to just watch Crevy get controlled by that notebook, make some terrible mistake, and then rush to solve the problem?"

Harry, of course, didn't want to.

But as for asking him to make any plans—

Harry looked blankly at Hermione, as did Ron.

"Oh my god—" Hermes felt a headache coming on. Just as he was about to say something, a commotion suddenly came from the outer edge of the crowd. When the three of them turned around, they saw Vaughn and Professor Isabella Rozier walk in.

Some people applauded in welcome, while others cheered for him.

Slytherin were the most active among them.

Last semester, Vaughn was a prominent figure at Hogwarts, inventing the Wolfsbane Potion, leading the Slytherin team to victory in Quidditch, and winning the House Cup at the end of the semester.

There are also rumors that many of the Slytherin graduates from last semester joined Vaughn Weasley's team and went to work for C.

This semester has been even more incredible. Not only did Vaughn team up with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Rozier, to reform practical courses, but he also started a dueling club, transforming himself from a second-year student into the club president, a position similar to that of a professor.

Therefore, there are actually quite a few students who admire Vaughn.

This includes Hermione —

Harry and Ron were startled by Hermione's loud applause. Just a moment ago, this know-it-all girl had been speechless and looking down on them, but now she was like a brainless fan, her face flushed, clapping her hands vigorously, and her eyes shining.

"Uh, Hermione, what were you trying to say?" Harry was a little taken aback by her enthusiasm and tried to ease the tension.

Hermione, who had previously thought Harry was unreliable and indifferent, completely forgot her words and casually said, "We'll talk about Creepy after the event."

He then stood on tiptoe and peered toward Vaughn.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and shrugged helplessly.

The training ground was briefly thrown into chaos by Vaughn's arrival. As a prominent figure, Vaughn was at least frequently seen running around to different colleges last semester.

This semester, due to various reasons, I have rarely seen him. Many students who have had interactions with him and have good relationships with him, including his admirers, want to take this opportunity to say a few words to him.

The lively scene lasted for about ten minutes before gradually quieting down thanks to the intervention of Professor McGonagall and other student council members, including Percy.

After waiting for another ten minutes or so, the last batch of applicants arrived at exactly 3 p.m.

The event has begun!

Percy and the others guided the students to their respective grade levels as planned, leaving the center of the training field empty.

A high platform had been erected there at some point, and Vaughn stepped out from the crowd and lightly jumped onto it.

To Hermione and many other Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff girls who had interacted with Vaughn last semester, Vaughn looked exceptionally handsome today.

His smooth, lustrous velvet robe, his fiery red hair like flames, and even his golden-brown eyes shimmered with light, making Vaughn seem as if he were enveloped in a dazzling box of mist.

Everyone was looking at him.

As Vaughn leaped onto the platform, he looked around and saw curiosity, anticipation, and a hostile attitude among the countless focused gazes directed at him.

But no one spoke; everyone was waiting for him to start.

He paused, then suddenly withdrew his wand, snapped his fingers lightly, and a spell took effect on him—a Loud Spell: "I'm very happy that so many people have come to participate in the first event of the Duel Club today. Before we officially begin, I want to reiterate the club's purpose: the Duel Club is a supplement to the practical classes. It will serve as an information-sharing platform, a forum for discussing solutions, and a platform for teaching, exchanging, and battling spells needed to deal with certain situations during practical classes—"

Before he finished speaking, a murmur arose from the audience.

What sparked everyone's interest wasn't information sharing or forums, but rather the transmission and battles of spells!

Although the promotional materials mentioned during the registration process that the Duel Club would teach spells and organize battles, it wasn't exactly confirmed information.

Many people sign up for the dueling club with a sliver of hope, especially students in fifth grade and above, most of whom dare not expect the school to actually allow them to wave their wands and chant spells to their classmates.

This is related to the current atmosphere in the English magical community.

More than a decade of peace has made the wizarding world increasingly conservative. In recent years, in order to suppress Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge has specifically catered to the conservative faction among voters, vigorously promoting peace and security in the English wizarding world and banning all school activities that might be associated with violence.

As a result, among recent graduates applying for Auror positions, very few even know how to use the Ironclad Charm.

The younger wizards didn't feel it as deeply, but the older students had already clearly sensed the shift in the school's atmosphere, driven by external pressure.

In fact, everyone was quite surprised when Professors Vaughn and Rozier announced the reform of practical courses.

This is one of the reasons why practical classes are so highly anticipated. They are all teenagers, in the most rebellious stage. Where there is oppression, there will be resistance!

Another reason why everyone looks forward to practical lessons is their love for competitive sports.

Real combat can obviously be considered a competitive sport!

Regardless of the murmurs from the audience, Vaughn on the platform remained unaffected. After calmly introducing the Duel Club's mission, he posed the first question of the event: "Can anyone explain why Professor Rozier and I are pushing for reforms to the practical courses of Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

The murmurs below the stage paused briefly, then a chorus of responses rang out: "So that we can save ourselves if we encounter danger in the future."

"So that we can survive in society after graduation."

"It teaches us to recognize the dangers of the magical world!"

And so on and so forth, the list goes on.

Even some of the top students who are usually very active in class raised their hands high, seemingly planning to give a long speech.

Hermione is one of them.

However, Vaughn did not name anyone. Instead, he listened attentively to the scattered responses from the audience. After a moment, he nodded: "I have heard your answers. There are many viewpoints, and each viewpoint has supporters and opponents. But I want to say here that all of your answers are wrong because they are too one-sided. Your answers are also correct because self-rescue in the event of danger, how to survive after leaving school, and how to identify and resolve dangers—these are precisely the things that Professor Rozier and I aimed to achieve through reform."

"Ultimately, it's because both Professor Rozier and I believe that the prevailing view in the wizarding world is wrong—there has never been peace in the wizarding world!"

With his last words, the entire training ground fell into a sudden silence.

In a distant corner, several professors looked at each other in surprise. They had come today mostly because their courses were related to practical classes, and the Duel Club was preparing to refine the subject matter they were responsible for, providing more in-depth and professional instruction.

Little did they know that Vaughn's opening was going to be so "explosive"!

Is this going against the mainstream of the magic world from the very beginning?

The students, on the other hand, were mostly bewildered. They had no idea what Vaughn was saying. Yes, apart from the first-year students and the fifth and seventh-year students who needed to take the wizarding level exams this year, the rest of the people who came had all gone through several practical classes.

But frankly speaking, no matter how much a practical class is called "practical," everyone knows that it's just "one class"!

It's not real; someone with thick enough nerves would even treat it as a weekly game.

To many young wizards, it was a unique form of entertainment, a novel experience they had never encountered before, but nothing more.

It's not a life they can truly experience or are willing to engage with!

On the high platform, Vaughn saw their bewilderment but said nothing more. Instead, he drew his wand, pressed the tip to his cheek, and took a deep breath: "Hoo—"

Thick mist spewed from his mouth, and in an instant, the vast training ground was filled with swirling mist. The milky white fog, like a surging tide, engulfed everyone.

The young wizards were at a loss.

The professors in the corner recognized it as a Fog Charm, a spell used to create illusions, usually by wizards to recreate memories under rudimentary conditions.

Sure enough, the next moment, the swirling mist outlined the street and human figures.

In the blink of an eye, an unfamiliar foreign city appeared around them.

At the same time, everyone heard Vaughn's voice: "These are my experiences during my academic visit to North America over the summer, as well as those of Professor Isabella Rozier, who was also in North America—these fighting wizards were Aurors from the Magical Congress of America, civilian militias, unknown forces, and North American werewolves—"

Vaughn introduced them one by one, but by then, no one had the mental capacity to think anymore.

They stared in disbelief at everything the fog was evolving.

Firelight, explosions, distorted human figures, streaks of magical light flashing through space, faint yet surging with an oppressive sense of pressure.

The oppressive feeling came from blood and fire. Even though the illusion of thick fog did not appear, the young wizards knew that every spell cast meant the end of a life.

Suddenly, a burst of ghastly green light erupted.

Even though many young wizards had never seen it before, they still felt a tremor in their souls from that light, and heard repeated screams that seemed to come from a great distance, yet were still unforgettable.

They suddenly realized it.

That green light must be the Death Curse!

When Harry saw the green light from below the stage, he felt a little dazed. Fortunately, a cool sensation welled up from the depths of his mind and suppressed the turbulent thoughts and memories in his brain, preventing him from fainting.

It's a brain shut-off procedure.

Harry managed to control himself, but he noticed that Neville, who was not far from him, was trembling with fear from the green light.

The others weren't much better off.

Seamus, standing next to Neville, froze, his lips pale. Dean, as if frozen in place, stared wide-eyed, his face blank.

Hermione was slightly better, and murmured, "What kind of magic is this?"

Ron, his face contorted with terror and his freckles completely translucent, answered her, "The Killing Curse, last semester Voldemort—the Mystic possessed Quirrell and cast that spell on Harry, don't you remember?"

Hermione certainly hadn't forgotten, but she hadn't expected that the spell she had seen before, but which Vaughn had interrupted, would be so terrifying.

It was just a phantom in my memory, yet it was so evil and bizarre, making it hard to breathe.

The memories recreated by the dense fog continued to unfold, eventually coming to a close.

Only when the fog completely dissipated did the young wizards below the stage gasp for breath, as if they had suddenly emerged from the water.

The vast training ground resounded with synchronized breaths, contributing to efforts to combat global warming.

It has to be described in a playful way, otherwise, the pale-faced, sweating little wizards who have just emerged from the shock of the illusion would make the scene seem too serious and oppressive.

In fact, Vaughn had deliberately edited out the memories he restored. He didn't show many of the more gruesome scenes, such as the several brutal massacres that Isabella witnessed during her escape, and the scene where Vaughn used an infrasonic spell to "explode" the internal organs of the Congress Aurors in the Alabacia Mountains.

If those were released, they wouldn't need any editing; they would be natural 18+ horror films.

The young wizards present today probably won't be able to sleep well.

On the high platform, Vaughn quietly watched the young wizards' fear and panic, and as time passed, they realized that what had just happened around them was just an illusion of memory restoration, and slowly came to their senses.

He then continued, "Why is no one speaking? Are they all terrified?"

His maxed-out Loud Speech spell carried his voice to the ears of every young wizard; the voice wasn't particularly loud, but it was very clear.

That's certainly true, but those teenagers in the audience, who seem to have a rebellious streak, are unwilling to admit it.

"Don't be ridiculous, only cowards are afraid!"

From the fourth-grade Gryffindor area came a loud response from one of the twins.

This was immediately met with a chorus of agreement.

Harry saw Seamus, his face flushed, roaring, "Who's afraid of who? He's a Flobber Caterpillar!"

Dean, standing next to him, went a step further, swearing that whoever was afraid of the Flobber caterpillar's slime was no match for him.

Hmm, Harry was starting to suspect that the Seamus and Dean he had seen earlier might have been illusions, otherwise why would they have insulted him?

From the platform, facing the "outraged crowd," Vaughn remained unfazed, saying, "But I hope you're afraid!"

The cheers from the audience abruptly stopped.

The young wizards stared at him in astonishment as he continued, "Fear is human nature, something ingrained in our bones. Only fear can teach us lessons, and that is the ultimate goal of Professor Rozier and me in reforming our practical courses."

"Practice is not about teaching you grand principles, but about revealing to you the cruel truths that can happen in this world at any moment. If you feel fear or disgust, then we have done the right thing; if not, then we haven't done enough."

"Therefore, starting next week, the practical classes will be more challenging. If conditions permit in the future, we will also recreate events that we have experienced ourselves, allowing everyone to participate in them personally. We hope that everyone will be as brave and fearless as they are today."

Ah, this—

""

Some of the people who had been shouting the loudest in the crowd were now speechless.

However, Vaughn obviously didn't care what they thought. He started by giving them a "baptism of fire" and then announced the "bad news".

Vaughn then introduced the club's initiatives in information sharing. In short, they plan to establish an information aggregation center with a reward mechanism that is compatible with the practical course points. This will change the inefficient information dissemination model of the past, collect and summarize the information that everyone discovers in the practical courses, encourage everyone to share, and achieve the goal of jointly conquering the practical course "dungeon".

However, this feature is not yet available and is still in the planning stage. Apart from a few people, it has not received much attention.

Vaughn certainly knows what everyone values.

So, after briefly introducing the temporarily "unimportant" content, he transitioned to today's main point. His gaze swept across the young wizards in the audience, and he began by asking, "I'd like to ask you all, what is most important to a wizard?"

The answer to this question was almost effortless; the twins shouted again, "Magic!"

"Thank you for your answers, Fred George, but I hope that next time you will give other students a chance to participate."

Vaughn's witty teasing of his twin brother drew laughter from the audience.

However, the twins' answer itself was not wrong. Vaughn said, "That's right. For wizards, no matter what we encounter, the only things we can always trust and rely on are the wands in our hands and the spells we have in our minds."

"It requires little preparation, has no stringent conditions or restrictions for use; all you need is magic, unwavering will and emotion, and a magic wand to manipulate reality and create miracles —"

Professor Flitwick was overjoyed by Vaughn's words, which came from the area where the professors were staying.

"Yes, that's right, a very good summary." Flitwick, standing on his chair and tiptoeing to watch Vaughn's speech, beamed with excitement: "That's the magic of the spell! I've always said Vaughn should come to Ravenclaw; he's a born Ravenclaw!"

In stark contrast to his joy was Snape's cold face beside him, his lips slightly curled up—

The expression of wanting to kill someone cannot be concealed.

Vaughn, on stage, was naturally unaware of Snape's feelings. He briefly discussed the role of spells and their history: