Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 310 Vaughn: Grindelwald is an idiot!

"I'm different from him, you know. I like Muggle science and history. Don't you think the development of science in Muggle society is something the wizarding world should learn from?"

"Hundreds of years ago, when the Muggle elites launched the witch hunt, the situation of the Muggle underclass was actually worse than that of the wizards who were hated by everyone. Their lives were controlled by the nobles and the church, and every bit of their wealth was squeezed out of them from birth to death."

"Until the advent of science and technology, technology, machines, and inventions nurtured the rise of capitalism, and capitalists used science to tear apart the shadow cast by both imperial and divine power—this transformation happened naturally without anyone guiding it."

"Driven by profit, they actively destroyed the old order. The first industrial revolution, with its astonishing profits from industrial products and the thirst for land and labor to build factories, caused the feudal manor, which had lasted for thousands of years, to go bankrupt within a few decades."

"During the Second Industrial Revolution, Muggles also proactively abandoned the steam engine and embraced the arrival of the electrical age, and now we have the Third Industrial Revolution in progress—are Muggles so proactive because they are highly enlightened?"

Vaughn slowly shook his head, answering his own question: "No, it's because of profit. Look, from the first steam engine going into operation in the 18th century to now, for over 200 years, even without anyone driving them away, Muggles have been constantly innovating. All of this is driven by profit."

"In my opinion, magic has the ability to generate benefits that are no less than science. Not to mention anything else, the magical effects of potions alone are enough to drive Muggles crazy."

"I say Grindelwald is stupid precisely because of this: the First and Second Industrial Revolutions clearly presented the answer to him, yet he was still clinging to feudal terror. What else could such a person be but stupid?"

Inside the fireplace, Dumbledore listened in silence.

This was an unexpected development in his conversation today.

In fact, as Vaughn's magical abilities improved, he did notice that Vaughn was becoming increasingly open about his aversion and disgust towards the Secret Code.

However, for various reasons, both sides tacitly avoided discussing this point.

He thought this tacit understanding would last for a long time, but he never expected that Vaughn would reveal his true feelings to him so clearly today.

To his surprise, Vaughn's "profit-driven" viewpoint—

The more I listened, the more sense it made.

The more I think about it, the more chills I feel!

When Vaughn said Grindelwald was stupid before, he was somewhat dismissive, but after hearing it, he no longer had that thought.

Through the curtain of flickering flames, Dumbledore watched the red-haired boy stretching out his hands to warm himself by the fireplace, talking calmly and casually. His fair and delicate appearance seemed harmless.

Who would have thought that the other person's inner thoughts were so "terrifying"?

The most terrifying thing is that this plan to "borrow" from the history of Muggle technology development sounds incredibly feasible!

"But the fear of magic by Muggles is also historically proven—" Dumbledore racked his brains to refute.

In response, Vaughn smiled and said, "In 1600, Bruno was burned at the stake in the Place des Fiori for defending the heliocentric theory. At that time, he was a heretic, a devil. In 1889, at the very spot where he died, the Vatican erected a bronze statue in his honor. By then, he had become a defender of science, a pioneer of humanity, and the greatest scientist!"

Dumbledore was unable to assess whether Vaughn's views were correct.

He couldn't even judge whether his own views were right or wrong, or rather, he never clearly defined his own views.

Time is the greatest and fairest magic in the world. He was born and grew up at the end of the witch hunt and the 200th anniversary of the enactment of the Act of Secrecy. At that time, Muggles had one foot in civilization and the other in ignorance. They invented machines to liberate human power and also invented guns to drive out all "abnormalities," creating turmoil throughout the world.

In the environment he experienced, the word "Muggle" was a very divisive and contradictory term, and it was usually more derogatory than complimentary.

The era in which Vaughn was born and grew up was only a century ago, yet it had undergone earth-shattering changes. Wizards had completely disappeared, Muggles had completely "forgotten" magic, and the once intertwined and emotionally complex community had been completely divided, with all past conflicts becoming dust in the past.

Time shaped their respective experiences, each reflecting the characteristics of its era, and these experiences, in turn, shaped their perspectives on things.

The reason I'm saying all this isn't because Dumbledore thinks Vaughn's perspective is flawed, but rather—he's starting to lose confidence in himself.

After all, he is over 100 years old, and the current era is the era in which "Vaughn Weasley" grows up.

So, on this day when snow was falling on both sides of the earth at the same time, this conversation across the fireplace ultimately did not reach a clear conclusion.

Dumbledore offered no response to Vaughn's "interests argument"—neither agreeing nor disagreeing, nor even saying he would "consider."

When the two ended the call, the old wizard looked uneasy. This usually joking old man's skill at changing the subject had become awkward: "Right now, Harry's problem is the most important, yes, very important. If, as you say, there are factors that made the prophecy accurate," then the situation is very complicated—luckily, we still have you, dear. That "accurate" prophecy may not have predicted your fate, but who knows—"

"In short, don't make any unusual moves for now. After I finish what I need to do here and consult with others, we can talk in detail when I get back to Hogwarts. — Darling, please don't make any unusual moves. Take good care of Harry until I return."

His voice was almost pleading.

More than three months ago, he had some bad thoughts, but at that time, Vaughn had already mastered the "Dimensional Gate" that was enough to break free from his control.

This long-time "partner" now truly has the strength to cooperate with him on an equal footing.

Even he, at present, can only try to reason with Vaughn in a gentle and reasonable manner—although he has never tried to force Vaughn.

Intelligent people do not accept coercion.

Just as Vaughn never used his attention to Harry to try to coerce him.

After ending the call, Old Deng's face disappeared into the firelight.

Vaughn did not leave, but remained sitting in front of the fireplace, silently watching the flickering flames and feeling the immense heat emanating from them, dispelling the cold.

No one knew what he was thinking, whether it was the fruit tea lying at his feet or Fox dozing off on the desk near the French windows, clutching his bird stand.

Or perhaps, the portraits of the principals on the wall.

They whispered among themselves, "Dumbledore looks so pitiful and pathetic, so timid and hesitant even by a little wizard."

-

"—Could you speak a little louder so that the little wizard you're talking about can hear you?"

"Sigh, after all these years, why is the world of the living still such a mess? — By the way, what exactly is this 'Secrecy Law'? You've never told me about it."

"Good heavens, yet another kid trying to defy the Secrecy Law. Why do these geniuses always like to do something so outrageous?"

"It is precisely because you cannot understand that you are the most mediocre principal in history, old McDuffie."

"Who are you calling mediocre?"

"Are you deaf? Of course it's you, my dear foolish uncle!"

As they were talking, an argument broke out. Before long, two white-bearded old men were fighting in the picture frame, and a red-haired witch rushed over from another painting, looking annoyed.

Ignoring the commotion over the principal's portrait, Vaughn was lost in thought as he pulled a glass bottle from his bag.

The bottle contains Alacride, an eight-eyed giant spider shrunk by magic.

Seemingly a side effect of the shrinking spell, the giant spider was very listless. Its eight limbs tightly hugged its fat belly, curled up at the bottom of the bottle, while its eight eyes stared tremblingly at the enormous Vaughn outside the bottle.

After looking at him for a while, Vaughn spoke up: "Don't you have anything to say to me?"

'

Aracle remained silent for a long while before letting out a soft, menacing scream: "You promised Aragog, you wouldn't hurt me!"

Vaughn chuckled. Aragog was right; Hagrid had given this guy the wrong name. He didn't seem to have any brains at all.

Vaughn was about to speak.

Suddenly, a low voice called out from the side, "Hey, honey, over here!"

Ok?

Vaughn put down the bottle and looked up at the sound. It was a picture frame diagonally above the fireplace. The background of the painting in the frame was the fireplace in the principal's office. Just like outside, there was snow falling and a roaring fire burning inside.

An old wizard with black hair, wearing a silver-green Slytherin robe and sporting a goatee, was furtively beckoning to Vaughn.

Vaughn recognized him immediately: "Hello, Principal Phineas Nigellus Black."

"Oh dear, there's no need to be so formal." Phineas Black in the portrait tried to put on a smile. "We're relatives, you have my blood in your veins, child, and your grandmother Cedrella is my favorite granddaughter."

Vaughn remained noncommittal: "Really? But Dad told me that Grandma was expelled from the Black family."

"That wasn't my fault, you know. I died before she grew up. Sirius and your great-grandfather Arcturus were the ones who removed her from the list, my two brainless and heartless sons."

Phineas's goatee twitched as he unhesitatingly cleared himself of any wrongdoing, completely unconcerned that his words were riddled with inconsistencies.

Anyway, all he wanted was to build a connection; logic didn't matter.

Pretending not to notice the subtle smile that gradually appeared on Vaughn's lips, Phineas seized the opportunity to strike up a conversation with Matilda Weasley, who usually kept an eye on him, after she had just gone to mediate the fight.

This was not the first time the two had met.

However, Vaughn had not responded to Phineas's request before because he had to consider Dumbledore's opinion.

Now, that's no longer necessary.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Vaughn looked at the haggard-looking Principal Blake in the portrait, toying with the bottle in his hand, and asked gently, "Phineas, is there something you need?"

After not seeing him for several months, Phineas, who once raised his fist and fought with his teacher, had become timid and hesitant.

He rubbed his hands together, looked nervously at Vaughn, and said in his most vulnerable state, "Vaughn—Mr. Weasley, please help me, please save your cousin Sirius—"

"—If you agree to save your cousin and preserve the last bloodline of the Black family, I'm willing to give you access to all of the Black family's books, magic, and resources!"

Phineas's words have too many flaws.

But Vaughn did not show any surprise, because if you really think about it, it wasn't nonsense that Phineas had three sons: Sirius II (counting from Phineas's generation, to make a distinction), Arcturus I, and Signas I.

His grandmother, Cedrilla Weasley (Black), was the daughter of Arcturus I and the third generation of the Black family.

She had a cousin named Arcturus II, the eldest son of Sirius II, who had a son, Orion Black, the fourth eldest son of the Black family and Cedric's nephew.

Orion married his cousin, Wolbuka, granddaughter of Signas I, and they had two children, Sirius and Regulus.

So, counting from Cedric, Arthur and Sirius's father Orion are of the same generation. Therefore, Vaughn and Sirius are indeed cousins, and not too far apart.

It may sound complicated, but that's how the relationships and blood entanglements between purebloods are.

However, this so-called "blood relation" didn't affect Vaughn; at most, it made him exude a slightly strange aura—come to think of it, Sirius is Harry's godfather, so wouldn't Ron and I be Harry's uncles?

"Achoo!"

Harry sneezed violently.

In the corner of the dormitory, the bed curtains were slightly lifted, and Neville, who had been woken up, quietly peeked out: "Harry, do you have a cold?"

,

"Probably," Harry replied in a muffled voice. He felt a tingling sensation all over his body and a chill down his back, as if something was watching him.

"By the way, how's Ron? I saw you, Vaughn, and Hermione take him to the school hospital this evening."

"He's fine, just a little shaken."

While chatting casually with Neville, Harry's attention wasn't really on that; his mind was still replaying everything that had happened in the Forbidden Forest during the day.

A terrifying giant spider, and the helplessness of being caught.

If Vaughn hadn't been there, he was quite certain that he and Ron would have been dead.

This was the closest he had ever come to death, aside from facing Voldemort directly last semester; it was even worse than facing Voldemort directly.