Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 297 Speculations about God and the Heart of a Young Girl

Especially after this injury, the entire "space" was left with only a thick white mist, and the personality suits that were faintly visible in the mist, patrolling around.

Similarly, in that boundless mist, there would occasionally be glimpses of amber light at dusk and azure blue like the ocean.

Every time they appear, they cause an earthquake-like tremor in the mind.

At this moment, after his consciousness entered the mental world, the aftershocks of the "trembling" that had just woken him from his dream had just passed. Vaughn could see that in the rolling white mist, many personifications were rushing one after another towards the direction where amber and azure light was faintly blooming.

As they "stuffed" through, the trembling grew weaker and weaker.

So in reality, for a memory magician like him, dealing with the anomalies in the mental world is not difficult; the difficulty lies in the fact that the root of the problem is not there.

After watching for a while, and as the light disappeared and his inner world returned to peace, Vaughn returned to reality.

He was very tired, but couldn't fall asleep. He picked up a book from beside his bed with a thick parchment cover and an old-fashioned design.

The book, titled "Mental and Physical Healing," is in French and was specially delivered by Dumbledore this morning. It is said to have been written by Nicolas Flamel nearly 200 years ago, but for various reasons, it has never been published.

It was later donated to Hogwarts.

If Beauxbatons were conscious, he'd probably cry.

Vaughn had already skimmed through some of the book's contents when he woke up from his dream.

It is truly worthy of being the work of a legendary alchemist, as it contains many causes and treatments for mental injuries, which broadened Vaughn's horizons.

The text naturally mentions cases of people being harmed by "divinity" after mistakenly entering the dreams of "gods".

"—Divinity is not a tangible force like magic or spirituality; it's more like a concept, an exclusive concept belonging to a lower realm than God, a kind of pollution at a void level." Of course, if there are followers of a particular god, this pollution "seems more appropriately defined as assimilation."

"Its function is to assimilate the sorcerer who sees the god into the source matter belonging to that god," and from a realistic perspective, the twenty-step path to godhood can be likened to βαKτηρV.

It pollutes your mind, changes your perspective, and turns you into a breeding ground.

Vaughn ran his fingers over the word "βηρov".

This is Greek, used in early Muggle society to describe bacteria and other microorganisms. It seems that Nicolas Flamel, more than a hundred years ago, was still actively engaging with the Muggle knowledge system, or at least he was very interested in the development of Muggle biology, otherwise he wouldn't have known this term.

His description of "divinity" in the book felt strangely familiar to Vaughn.

It looks very much like a concept he encountered in some novels in his previous life.

Meme contamination!

The term "meme" refers to the transmission of information; more specifically, it includes language, culture, and ideas.

The process of copying and transmitting behavioral patterns, thoughts, memories, and experiences to others.

"Pollution" is exactly what it sounds like: a way of changing or assimilating other people's thoughts through the transmission of information.

"In other words, in that brief encounter with Death, it conveyed something to me that I didn't even realize—"

This is a bit unsettling to think about.

If he were just an ordinary wizard, that would be one thing, but Vaughn is no ordinary wizard. He is also a memory mage who has mastered Occlumency to the maximum level and whose Legilimency is almost at the maximum level.

Normally, no one can silently transmit anything to his mind without him noticing.

Months ago, even the legendary wizard he had clashed with, the memory magic master DeSantis, couldn't achieve O.

Originally, he didn't quite agree with the concept of "God," but now—

With a sigh, Vaughn shook his head. Thinking too much without understanding would only cause more trouble. Dumbledore didn't give him Nick Flamel's book to scare him.

It is mainly used to refer to Nicolas Flamel's methods for treating mental trauma.

Fortunately, divinity—or rather, memetic contamination—is not irreversible. Wizards who wield magic with idealism are not actually weak in mind and body and naturally possess resistance.

Moreover, many spells can also directly affect the mind.

Among the several treatment options offered by Nicolas Flamel, the most typical is the continuous casting of the "Guardian Angel Charm." This charm emphasizes "spiritual purity" and "positive emotions," which can indirectly maintain the positive stability of the mental body and achieve the effect of curbing the development of meme pollution.

Although Nick Lemaître did not mention the underlying principle in his article.

Perhaps he himself didn't understand it either.

Vaughn had already read the plan in the article before, but he was looking at it again because he wanted to understand how Nicolas Flamel would describe the so-called "gods" in the ether.

Judging from Dumbledore's words last night, Nicolas Flamel's attitude towards the "Aether Gods" and the God-making plan is very contradictory.

On the one hand, he "created" Death and spread the story of Death through the bard Beedle, using the influence of legend and mystery to help Death perfect its independent will and wisdom.

On the other hand, he seems to have blocked the information that legends and mystique can create gods—Vaughn proposed the theory that legends influence mystique last year, but no one has ever said in the newspapers that his theory is "outdated."

Clearly, very few people in the magical world today truly know this knowledge. The legacy left by those legendary wizards who arrogantly advocated the idea of ​​creating gods must have been lost or suppressed.

And it was Nicolas Flamel who cut them off or suppressed them.

"Dumbledore said that Nicolas Flamel heard about the Peverell brothers from several families, and perhaps that's how he learned about the ancient god-making project. So, it seems that the Peverell brothers might have been members of that group of legendary wizards?"

Vaughn's thoughts were somewhat scattered.

This is quite possible, after all, the fact that the Peverell brothers left behind three alchemical artifacts—the Elder Wand, the Invisibility Cloak, and the Resurrection Stone—already indicated their identities as alchemists.

Even more profoundly, "How exactly are alchemical artifacts created?"

This was a question that Vaughn had always struggled to understand when reading books about alchemy. The alchemists who wrote books, manuscripts, and notes, who left behind works that would be passed down through the ages, were all undoubtedly accomplished, yet not a single one of them claimed to be the creator of any alchemical artifact.

Including the four great masters of Hogwarts!

To date, there is no historical record indicating which of the four founders wrote the "Acceptance Pen" and the "Book of Admission" for Hogwarts.

Perhaps, maybe, it wasn't any of them at all?

His thoughts had wandered a bit too far, so Vaughn quickly pulled himself back. Since his mental body was injured, he often drifted off like this.

"Returning to the earlier question, which family would be the one to have the legend of the Peverell brothers passed down through generations?"

Naturally, he could only be a descendant of Peverell's paternal or maternal lineage!

Considering that the book "Born Noble: The Wizarding Genealogy" (a book that records pure-blood families whose paternal lineage has disappeared and whose surnames have been wiped out) mentions that Peverell was the first family to go extinct, and the time when it was written, as well as the era when Nicolas Flamel was active.

Vaughn smirked.

Sometimes, a brief mention in a history book may conceal a cruel truth.

Of course, this was just his suspicion, and all his suspicion stemmed from one question—

Why did Nicolas Flamel create Death first, then conceal the method of "creating God," and even show a resistant attitude towards the existence of "God"?

Is it because the other party wants to hide the technology for making the Philosopher's Stone?

Judging from Nicolas Flamel's willingness to give the Philosopher's Stone to Dumbledore, he doesn't seem to be such a narrow-minded person.

Or perhaps—

He has always been an opponent of the god-making plan; the creation of the Grim Reaper has ulterior motives.

For example, let Death kill the legendary wizard!

Vaughn's eyes flickered. He had found it strange ever since Dumbledore said that the Twilight Light was Death's mark on legendary wizards.

Why is Death targeting the legendary wizard?

Is there any connection between these two?

At least, he couldn't see any necessary connection, unless—the "artificial Grim Reaper's" function was predetermined from its creation—

Overnight, Vaughn pondered many similar conjectures, for the existence of "God" made it impossible for him to ignore the chain reaction brought about by this concept.

Especially last night, before Dumbledore left, he asked about the Death Mark, and Dumbledore replied, "It's His favor."

His words were full of meaning.

Dumbledore considered that a "preferential treatment," but what about the other legendary wizards?

Suddenly, Vaughn felt that the strange behavior of the legendary wizards he had encountered, such as DeSantis and Wilkinson, who were on the verge of death, seemed to have a reason.

He even considered whether "fate" might also be one of the twenty steps to godhood.

From today's perspective, these are all delusions. However, what Vaughn has to pay attention to is that many things he previously found difficult to understand suddenly have explanations and new directions regarding the existence of "God".

"Oh----"

Vaughn chuckled as he closed the book, lost in thought, when the door to the ward suddenly opened and Hermione burst in.

Seeing him sitting on the hospital bed, the panicked girl visibly breathed a sigh of relief, but seeing his weak appearance, tears immediately welled up in her brown eyes.

Then she rushed in and threw herself into Vaughn's arms.

The sun was high in the sky when Harry and Ron finally crawled lazily out of bed.

As winter approached, the warm bed was the most secure seal, and Harry felt that getting up and dressing required all the willpower he had ever had.

"How wonderful it would be to attend classes while still in bed!"

-

He sighed at Ron.

"It would be even better if I could attend classes lying in bed." Ron, who was halfway through putting on his sweater, probably had his imagination too wonderful and laughed foolishly.

The two chatted for a while, still about the Quidditch match loss. After being "enlightened" by Professor McGonagall, Harry wasn't so bothered anymore, and the conversation mainly focused on the tactical issues to come.

While brushing his teeth, Ron offered advice: "You need to eat more, Harry. You're too small. You should grow tall and strong like me and Vaughn. That would greatly increase your intimidation factor."

"But Wood said my advantage is speed, and if I were any heavier, I wouldn't be able to fly as fast as I am now —"

"What's the use of speed? You're still just running around on the field. Hufflepuff's Vaughn's exchange tactic is designed to exploit your physical weakness. They can easily limit you by sending two players to double-team you. And think about it, why did you abandon Vaughn's exchange tactic? Was it really because you were careless? I think you probably thought it was impractical. Why is it impractical? Because you're not as strong as other teams. Other teams can double-team you 2-1 with the exchange tactic, but you'd probably need 3-1. That would make your qulip and dribble shots sieves."

"Uh-"

Harry was speechless. Upon reflection, Ron's words did seem to make a lot of sense.

After much deliberation, on the way to the Great Hall, he shook his head: "It's too late to say all this now. We'll be facing Slytherin in two weeks, and I can't possibly get fat so quickly—is it really useless for us to pick up the card-trading tactic again? Malfoy is about the same size as me."

Ron scoffed, "No way! Malfoy may be weak, but they still have a monster like Marcus. He alone can hold off Fred and George, or Angelina, Katie, and Arya. You're just asking for trouble if you try to outmaneuver them!"

"Sigh!" Harry said, quite distressed. "Isn't there any other way?"

"No, unless you cast a curse on Marcus and the others on the day of the match."

"I don't know how either. Should I ask Hermione for help?"

When they talked about Hermione, they realized that they hadn't seen her today, nor had they seen her in the Great Hall.

They initially thought Hermione had gone to the library, but when the two finished eating around 9 o'clock and were about to go find Hermione to ask for her homework to copy, they discovered that she wasn't in the library either.

Hermione didn't even show up during Transfiguration class.

The two quickly found Professor McGonagall, who was usually stern but stammered, "Granger—she has other things to do. Yes, I arranged for her to—to organize some Transformers Club data. Don't worry, it'll be fine!"

Then she left in a hurry, leaving Harry and Ron looking at each other in bewilderment.

"The professor is lying!" Ron said with certainty.

Harry looked hesitant; he thought so too, but wasn't sure.

"Believe me, I've been trying to trick my mom and Ginny out of pocket money since I was a kid, so I know she's lying as soon as she opens her mouth."

Is this something to brag about?

Harry muttered to himself, but out of consideration for his good friend, he didn't voice his complaint. Instead, he asked worriedly, "Why did she lie to us? Did something happen to Hermione?"

Compared to his anxiety, Ron displayed remarkable composure, calmly analyzing: "Unlikely. Although Professor McGonagall stutters, her emotions are still quite stable."

"But Hermione is gone."

This didn't faze the composed Ron: "We might not be good at other things, but when it comes to finding people at Hogwarts, we have a huge advantage—Merlin, what are you looking at me for? Go find Nick Wilde, who's almost headless! No one can escape the Ghost's search!"

Harry suddenly realized.

As it turns out, attending Nick's death anniversary party on Halloween wasn't entirely a bad thing. It might have been a bit torturous at the time, but from then on, the nearly headless Nick considered the trio as good friends.

Upon hearing Harry and Ron's purpose, Nick slapped his head, which had been hanging down to his chest, and offered his help.

Then, before the afternoon's Charms class began, he took them to the school hospital.

"Hermione is taking care of Vaughn Weasley. My dear Mr. Vaughn Weasley is injured, poor boy. He is mentally and physically scarred. I can't believe what he's been through."

In the corridor, Nick, nearly headless, said dejectedly, "Terrible injuries. Luckily, he's alive. If he were like me, he'd probably be dead—wait, can a ghost die again?"

Upon hearing that Vaughn was injured, Harry and Ron forgot all about the strange question of "can I die again if I die?" and rushed to the ward.

Ron, who had been calm and collected before, turned pale as a ghost.

But they couldn't get in. As soon as they reached the ward door, Professor McGonagall suddenly appeared in front of them. She put on a stern face and grabbed them by the collar with one hand each.

Instead of scolding them, he joined them, peering through the crack in the door.

It wasn't yet the season for significant temperature drops in Hogwarts Valley, and Vaughn was the only patient in the hospital. It was just past noon, and the southward-moving sun was casting its brilliant midday light through the windows into the ward.

Enveloped in radiance, Vaughn and Hermione nestled together, the intense light blurring their outlines as if they were about to merge into one.

The scene was as warm as the sunlight, making people feel warm inside.

Harry smiled instinctively, and then Professor McGonagall pulled them away.

Once they were out in the corridor, Professor McGonagall released the two boys and solemnly instructed them, "Potter, Weasley, don't tell anyone about Vaughn's injury, understand?"

Harry, who was initially indignant that the professor had deceived him, dared not say anything upon seeing her expression and nodded repeatedly, "Don't worry, Professor, we'll keep our mouths shut!"

Professor McGonagall nodded in satisfaction.

Ron, however, pressed on, "Professor, Vaughn—what injury did he suffer? How is he?"

"Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore have examined him; he's fine. Just don't disturb him—alright, go back now, children, and remember to keep this a secret!"

The sun is shining brightly.

Waking up from a dream again, the warmth of the sunlight on my face, and the redness through my eyelids, suppressed the fear brought on by the nightmare.

Of course, there was also Hermione, resting her head on his arm. Her hair, which smelled of a mixture of shampoo and milk, was steaming in the sunlight and gently caressed by the breeze that seeped in through the window. It brushed against his cheek and tickled his nose, stirring his heartstrings.

He couldn't help but pull the girl into his arms.

Hermione, who must have been awake all along, noticed his movement and immediately asked in a low voice, "Had another nightmare?"

"Hmm—" Vaughn's voice was languid.

Hermione struggled, seemingly trying to get up, her soft voice tinged with worry: "Why isn't it better yet? Should I—go and call Dumbledore?"

Vaughn chuckled, said nothing, and simply hugged him tighter.

After a long pause, Vaughn finally spoke: "He had no other choice. The treatment methods recorded in Nicolas Flamel's book can only be done by oneself—after all, it's the consciousness that's injured. Apart from providing some emotional value, outsiders can't really help. As for emotional value, ha—to me, you're much more effective than him!"

"I?"

"Mmm, it's warm—like the sun."

Upon hearing this description, Hermione's face flushed slightly, her heart raced, and her head felt a little dizzy.

The sun is so strong, it's so hot!

She subconsciously looked for excuses, as if that would lessen her shyness.

But her body betrayed her; she held Vaughn's hand tightly, tucking it into her bosom, as if afraid he would run away, or perhaps only in this way could she express her inner joy.

The ward fell silent again, with only sunlight and a warm, cozy atmosphere creating a peaceful ambiance that lingered by the bedside and in the air.

However, this cozy and languid feeling didn't last long. Hermione was never one to indulge in fantasies. After lying there for a short while, she picked up the book by Nicolas Flamel that Vaughn had placed on her bedside table.

While flipping through the pages, he asked, "This list provides several treatment options. Which one did you choose?"

"I haven't decided yet," Vaughn said, his face buried in her hair, his voice muffled.

"I've looked into it, and it seems that casting the Guardian Charm while incorporating high-energy desserts like chocolate is a gentler approach. This is also the method most frequently used, according to Nicolas Flamel's statistics."

"Okay—I'll listen to you—"

Vaughn's voice became muffled again.

Hermione didn't move, and sure enough, after a while she heard the breathing behind her gradually become steady and long.

Vaughn is asleep again.

After listening quietly to his long, even breathing for a moment, and confirming that he wouldn't wake up for the time being, the girl tiptoed away from his embrace.

When she looked back at Vaughn, her eyes were full of heartache.

The intense sunlight made Vaughn's skin appear almost transparently white, making him look like a fragile glass statue at first glance. As he drifted into a deep sleep, his brows were slightly furrowed, revealing the unease in his dreams.

This was the first time Hermione had observed such a weak quality in him.

"But at least you can stop for a while now."

Hermione suddenly thought inappropriately that this version of Vaughn seemed closer to her; normally, he always seemed to drift very far away.

After a moment of blank staring, she patted her head to stop her wandering thoughts.

He then jumped out of bed, intending to contact the professor to ask the kitchen to make more chocolate, hot cocoa, or something similar.

That way, when he wakes up again, he can eat the energy-boosting food.

"At least, he can rest for a while now."

At night, in the Gryffindor Tower, Harry, sitting in bed with one arm propped up on the headboard, was tearing open a loaf of bread and tossing it into Scabbers' cage when he suddenly heard Ron sighing from the next bed.

-

Those unaware of the situation, upon hearing this and seeing his melancholy expression, might think someone had died.

Harry was speechless.

He knew who the "he" Ron was talking about was—Vaughn, yes, Vaughn was injured, but wasn't this a bit of an exaggeration?

"Ron!"

"Harry called out."

Ron mechanically turned his head, his freckled face showing a dejected expression that could only be described as sorrowful.