Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 70 My Pen, My Knife

The Black Lake at night is dark and deep.

Looking out the dormitory window, all that could be seen was endless darkness, just like Rita Skeeter's heart at that moment.

An unfamiliar magic was eroding her body, preventing her from transforming back into human form. She could only watch helplessly as a slender, pale hand grabbed the glass jar containing her and placed it on the table.

"How did he find out my secret? He deliberately acted ambiguously, hoping I would transform into an Animagus and come to him so he could capture me. Damn it, damn it, why was I so careless and took chances? What was I thinking?"

Rita the beetle frantically and helplessly flailing her legs, but the smooth glass rendered all her efforts futile time and again.

Then, a pair of eyes came close to her.

"Ms. Skeeter, please look me in the eyes."

Rita glanced over instinctively, staring at them through the glass. She saw the beetle's enormous eyes from its perspective, with a faint light shining within them.

A sudden wave of dizziness washed over her, and when Rita regained consciousness, she was pleasantly surprised to find...

I've actually regained my human form!

Get out of here!

I need to find my wand and cast the Forgetfulness Charm on him!

The secret must never be revealed!

With a scream raging in her heart, Rita lunged toward the door.

It was only a few steps away, but she was destined not to be able to run. A voice softly asked behind her, "Madam, would you like me to open the door for you?"

"certainly--"

Rita suddenly stopped, both because of the voice behind her and because of what she saw in front of her—

Starting from that door engraved with the serpent shield emblem, the world suddenly began to collapse, like rotten wood weathered and corroded for thousands of years, or a sand sculpture blown by a gale.

Handles, door frames, stone walls, murals... everything turned into fine powder and fell into the darkness. Soon, this collapse spread to Rita's feet.

But she couldn't move at all; some force restricted her, leaving her helpless to watch as the world around her vanished into nothingness, swallowing her into the deathly darkness.

"This isn't the real world..."

She thought, and soon, her innermost thoughts echoed all around her.

Someone chuckled softly: "Very perceptive, Ms. Skeeter. Indeed, this is your inner world!"

As the words fell, the dark space regained its dim light. Rita looked down and saw herself floating in mid-air, with a sofa suspended beside her, where Vaughn was sitting.

He was flipping through a book.

Armando Dippet: Master or Idiot?

That was a name Rita knew very well; it was the first work in which she made her mark in the magical world.

As Vaughn flipped through the pages, he said affectionately, "Rita, this must be your proudest work, right? You must have read it countless times; every word is imprinted in your memory, so much so that it's the first thing I saw when I entered your mind... Hmm, the writing style is truly sharp—"

As he spoke, he casually tossed the book aside, "What a pity it's a piece of trash, not a single word of truth in it!"

Rita, still in a running posture but unable to move, tried to widen her eyes. Although she couldn't speak, her inner thoughts echoed throughout the space like a noisy alarm clock.

"He dared to throw my book, my favorite book!"

"I'll ruin his reputation, I want revenge!"

Why can I hear my thoughts everywhere? Stop thinking about it, stop—

"Someone save me—will begging help?"

Snapped!

Vaughn snapped his fingers, and the surrounding noise ceased abruptly. He looked at Rita, whose gaze gradually shifted from fierce anger to fear, and smiled slightly: "Begging for mercy worked... isn't that good news for you?"

Rita, realizing she could move again, nodded quickly, "Of course, Mr. Weasley, please let me go!"

"Give me a reason," Vaughn said, leaning back on the sofa in a languid posture.

"Wh...what?"

"Give me one reason why I'll let you go!"

Rita forced a smile: "Sir, you hold my secret. If you report me to the Ministry of Magic, I'll be imprisoned in Azkaban, and even if I get out, I'll be a cripple..."

"No, no!" Vaughn shook his head. "That's not a reason. You can leave and register for Animagus right away. What can I do to you then?"

Rita rolled her eyes and suddenly remembered Vaughn's evaluation of her book: "His writing style is really sharp."

What is the purpose of someone who knows her secret, luring her to be captured, but not killing her?

The answer is obvious!

Rita's eyes widened, and she stammered, "You...you...want me to be your mouthpiece?"

Clap clap clap!

Vaughn clapped, his expression still gentle and kind: "So, Rita, would you like to?"

"..."

Only a fool would agree to something like that.

Rita's eyes flickered.

Seemingly understanding her answer, Vaughn didn't care. He raised his hand and reached into the surrounding darkness. In an instant, a series of misty images were strung together and pulled out of the dark space, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Rita's gaze darkened; she saw it—those images were all her memories.

They stacked in a ring, rotating around the two people.

Vaughn beckoned with his finger, and an image flew in front of him. He observed it for a moment, then smiled at Rita:

"This is a memory of what you wore today. If I do this—"

His hand reached into the image and clenched into a fist.

The image shattered silently, and the colors faded rapidly from the fragmented image. At the same time, Rita suddenly couldn't remember what she was wearing today.

A hint of fear flickered in her eyes.

Vaughn's demonstration wasn't over yet. Looking at the seemingly omnipresent images above, in front of, and beneath his feet, he said softly, "Rita, in reality you're still a beetle. If I were here to make you forget you're a wizard, to make you forget the Animagus, what would you do?"

Rita's face turned completely pale.

She would truly see herself as a beetle, flying out of Hogwarts and into the Forbidden Forest, spending her days among flowers and animal droppings, barely sustaining her humble life. And because she was essentially human, her lifespan was far longer than that of a beetle. This kind of life would continue for decades, until her human life was completely exhausted...

That's worse than death!

In a flash, Rita weighed the pros and cons. Her lips trembled as she forced a fawning smile: "Mr. Weasley, I am willing to write for you, to speak for you, to become a silent weapon in your hand!"

It's humiliating, but it's the reality.

Rita Skeeter, on the other hand, has always been a pragmatic person!

Then she saw Vaughn smile with satisfaction, extend a finger, and tap her forehead:

"Then, my dear Rita, let me cast a spell on your memory!"

Dumbledore has recently taken to night outings, not because he genuinely enjoys them, but because the Savior needs his care.

Last night, Harry sneaked up to the fifth floor again.

This time he brought Ron along, and the two of them stared intently at the Mirror of Erised until the middle of the night.

Children have plenty of energy and can stay up for several nights in a row without any problem, but for a man over a hundred years old, Old Deng felt that he was already finding it hard to keep up.

When he woke up this morning, Headmaster Weasley was worried about him: "Albus, you're in terrible shape. If this continues, you'll suddenly die!"

Principal Blake clapped his hands and laughed loudly, "Die! Die! I'll be free when you're dead!"

So it was another combat sport for the elderly.

Dumbledore had no time to rest.

He had to guide the love and kindness within Harry, ensuring it wouldn't be eroded by time, and protect him from Quirrell's attacks.

On the other hand, the Ministry of Magic's Joint Inquiry Team is still at Hogwarts and needs his intervention.

Looking at my face in the mirror, I saw deep bags under my eyes and dark circles.

Dumbledore sighed and could only down another bottle of euphoria.

Then, he started singing in front of the mirror.

The singing was high-pitched and clear, with an exciting rhythm—this was a side effect of drinking too many euphoric drugs!

When Professor McGonagall came over to report on the itinerary, she happened to hear the principal end with a long, beautiful coloratura aria.

"Albus, you..."

"Ah~~~~~Minerva~~~~"

Professor McGonagall, her face dark, glanced at the empty bottle of euphoria on the sink and knew what had happened. She snapped, "You're using euphoria to stay awake again? You'll drink yourself to death one day!"

On the other side of the room, Principal Blake, still struggling with the teacher, was yelling, "Die! Die!"

"Cough cough, finally stopped." After singing for more than twenty minutes, Old Deng was panting heavily, his voice hoarse, but the euphoria made him look happy: "What's the itinerary for the investigation team today?"

Professor McGonagall handed him the parchment.

Dumbledore glanced around, while the rest of the investigation team continued to explore their alma mater.

These guys, who have been out of school for decades, are openly slacking off under the guise of reminiscing about their youth.

Fudge wanted to find a "quiet, secluded, and private" place to reconnect with his friend Vaughn, his close junior.

Upon seeing this, Dumbledore smiled. He had, of course, noticed Fudge's subtle wariness and rejection of him. The so-called attempt to build rapport was probably Fudge's way of trying to bypass him and continue trying to get Vaughn to hand over the formula to the Ministry of Magic.

Dumbledore didn't care much; Fudge was indeed a shrewd politician.

But from the moment he first met Vaughn and treated him like a 12-year-old child, he had already lost the initiative.

The last item on the parchment was a reporting plan from The Daily Prophet.

Dumbledore frowned slightly: "Minerva, has the interview already begun?"

"Yes, Ms. Skeeter is in the Slytherin common room now, and nobody knows when she went in..." Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, thinking of Rita's usual writing style. She really didn't like this student she had taught.

Even during her student days, Rita was very talented in Transfiguration.

Dumbledore thought for a moment and said, "I'll go take a look. Ms. Skeeter's writing is fascinating, but she always focuses too much on the narrative and lacks authenticity."

If Rita goes too far, he will continue to use his connections to bring in another reporter.

Using newspapers to promote his reputation was part of his deal with Vaughn. It wouldn't be good if the cooperation were to fall apart because of a reporter's fabricated stories. But to Dumbledore's surprise, when he arrived at Slytherin, he found a harmonious scene.

In the dormitory, the backdrop is a black lake where fish swim leisurely and water plants sway. The magical incense burning in the room makes people feel as if they are in the sunshine. On the small table between the two people, a blue flame is roasting a teapot.

Rita and Vaughn sat facing each other, each with a steaming cup of milk tea beside them. Vaughn was introducing the drink to Rita.

"I don't really like wizards' weird drinks; on the contrary, Muggle inventions are more to my liking..."

Noticing someone at the door, Vaughn turned around, his expression surprised: "Headmaster, what brings you here?"

Rita turned around as well, her expression serene, seemingly enjoying the rich aroma of the milk tea. She rose slightly to greet her.

"Good morning, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Dumbledore smiled: "Oh, you're Rita too. I was just passing by and thought I'd drop in. How did the interview go?"

He walked behind Rita and glanced at the parchment floating beside her.

The contents recorded above are not particularly unusual.

But the shorthand quill seemed listless for some reason.

Perhaps it's a bit frustrated that it can't fully utilize its storytelling abilities?

Dumbledore thought.

After confirming that there were no unexpected issues, Lao Deng exchanged a few more pleasantries with the two men before turning to leave. Once he had disappeared from sight, Guoguocha returned from outside the door and called out to confirm that he had indeed left.

Vaughn waved his hand, and the dormitory door closed automatically. Rita's expression quickly fell, becoming depressed, gloomy, and filled with fear.

Vaughn picked up his milk tea, took a sip, and said with a smile, "Rita, cheer up. You should be glad that I still have a use for you, otherwise you would probably have flown to the Forbidden Forest by now."

Rita merely wore a fawning expression; she didn't even dare to entertain the thought of resistance.

Or rather, she had thought about it. A few hours earlier, when Vaughn released her from the glass jar, she had thought that she would find an opportunity to cast a forgetfulness spell on the boy later.

But Vaughn must have planted some kind of curse in her memory. The moment the thought crossed her mind, a violent headache made her scream in agony, as if an invisible knife was stabbing into her brain and churning it wildly.

Rita had never experienced such pain before.

However, that was not the end. When she recovered from the pain, she found herself sealed in a wall by a transformation spell. She felt the air getting less and less, and the fear of death approaching step by step immediately brought her back to her senses.

She knew Vaughn couldn't kill her, after all, she had accessed Hogwarts through official channels, and if she disappeared, Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic would definitely launch an investigation.

However, she feared that some things were more terrifying than death, like the words Vaughn had said the night before, which she recalled after regaining consciousness.

Make her forget that she is a wizard, and completely transform her into an insect...

Imagining that kind of ending, Rita felt at that moment that things were actually quite good as they were.

At least she was still a person, not a stupid, clueless insect!

It's just being someone's lackey. I've never done it before, but everyone has a first time, right?

Thinking of this, Rita's expression relaxed a little.

Noticing her change, Vaughn smiled with relief: "You see, cooperating with me doesn't actually affect you at all..."

He reached out his hand, and the parchment floating beside Rita landed in his grasp. He saw that it read—

"Mr. Weasley, a pure-blood, like his family, showed great interest in Muggles. He loved Muggle books, food, and technology, and was even more radical than his father. He told me that wizarding society was long behind the times..."

Vaughn shrugged: "You like to make things up because you think overly truthful interviews aren't attention-grabbing enough, right? As long as you can make it 8% true and 2% false, I can cooperate with you like this and provide topics that are enough to spark discussion without affecting myself too much."

Rita was silent for a moment, then let out a long sigh.

She surrendered.

She forced a smile, trying to regain her composure.

Although she decided to become a lackey, Rita still wanted to barely maintain her dignity.

But the threat emanating from the boy before her made her uneasy, and her voice unconsciously trailed off as she spoke: "So, you think the current interview content is appropriate? Your topic of the wizarding society lagging behind Muggles might make some pure-bloods hostile towards you..."

Vaughn chuckled: "Which pureblood family doesn't oppose the Weasleys? It's alright, just write it according to our agreement!"

Next, Vaughn gave her some instructions.

For example, you could fabricate his bias towards Muggles, but you couldn't involve his family or friends. You could also report his views on some of the outdated systems in the wizarding world, and these were his true thoughts. Rita could use more intense language.

Vaughn intended to cultivate a more radical, pro-Muggle image for himself.

Finally, he instructed Rita: "But you must be careful that recent reports focus on the handling of the wolfsbane potion. You need to write about the werewolves' predicament and what problems would arise if the wolfsbane potion were handed over to the Ministry of Magic."

Hearing this, Rita's listless spirits lifted.

She was clever; after a moment's thought, she understood what Vaughn meant.

"You suspect the Ministry of Magic might use wolfsbane?"

Vaughn did not answer.

But Rita's exceptional storytelling ability allowed her to quickly conceive a political drama, which made her hands tremble with excitement.

However, she hesitated again, a sly glint in her heavily made-up face: "But if it's about the Ministry of Magic, my article will probably have a hard time getting past the Daily Prophet's censorship. You should know that the Ministry of Magic is the newspaper's biggest financial backer."

Vaughn replied calmly, "It will pass!"

Rita feigned surprise and delight.

She knew Vaughn had powerful backers, and his earlier words were merely a test. Seeing Vaughn's composure now, she felt inexplicably reassured.

She has already witnessed Vaughn's intelligence, shrewdness, and strength, and considering that he was able to find out her Animagus identity and his influence over the Daily Prophet...

If her previous submission was somewhat forced, now she's a little tempted!

If it's the same as submitting and clinging to a powerful figure, then the more powerful the figure, the better.

The two chatted for a while longer until the agreed interview time ended, at which point Rita Skeeter said goodbye and left.

After seeing her out of the Slytherin common room, Vaughn returned to his dormitory, picked up the glass jar he had used to store Rita the night before, and chuckled.

What is this?

An unexpected surprise?

In fact, he never intended to pressure Rita Skeeter at first.

As long as the other party follows the interview process honestly and doesn't make up lies, he won't bother with her.

But dear Ms. Skeeter is used to being arrogant and always looking for trouble, so he deliberately said yesterday that he knew her secret.

If Rita were vigilant enough, or not so vengeful, and hadn't turned into a beetle to spy on his privacy, Vaughn still wouldn't have done anything to her—he couldn't very well attack her at Hogwarts just because she spread rumors, as that would have ruined the hard-won relationship he and Dumbledore had built.

However, if the other party bumped into you on their own, then you can't blame them.

"Actually, this woman does have her merits. She's pragmatic, knows when to advance and retreat, and is ruthless enough, both towards others and herself. Not everyone can accept reality so quickly, nor can everyone learn from the Animagus..."

Animagus is the most advanced technique in transfiguration.

It involves a fundamental change in the human body. In other words, once a wizard transforms into his Animagus form, he becomes indistinguishable from the animal corresponding to that form, inside and out.

Last night, Vaughn studied Rita carefully and found that in her beetle form, her body structure was exactly the same as a beetle's, and even the magic belonging to a wizard had disappeared.

The only thing that might be preserved is the human soul.

Corresponding to its miraculous effects, the conditions for practicing Animagus are extremely demanding. First, one must hold a mandrake leaf in one's mouth for a month, from one full moon to the next.

During this period, the mandrake leaves must not be damaged in any way. If the moon does not appear by the next full moon due to weather or other reasons, then the process must be restarted.

If the moon appears, the next step is to let the leaf receive moonlight, then put it in a crystal bottle filled with saliva, along with hair, dew from places that have not been exposed to sunlight or come into contact with humans, and the pupa of the ghost-faced hawk moth.

Next, the crystal bottle was buried, allowing time and a mysterious ritual to transform it into a "potion," until the stormy weather arrived...

The entire practice process involves four disciplines: transfiguration, spells, potions, and occult rituals, and also requires luck—who knows what the weather will be like under the next full moon, or how long it will be before a storm hits.

As far as Vaughn knows, there are very few Animagus in the wizarding world at present, because the harsh conditions eliminate most of them.

As Vaughn discarded the glass jar, he pondered:

"I wonder if I'll be able to learn Animagus directly through system-allocated skill points in the future?"

"Even if it doesn't work, it's fine. I seriously doubt if there's a simplified way to do this. Otherwise, it's absurd that James, Sirius, and Peter all trained to become Animagus just to spend the full moon with Remus Lupin..."

In reality, Vaughn has no need for Animagus. Even if he mastered it, he wouldn't use it because of the change in the body's essence. When a wizard transforms into Animagus, it means that he gives up his spellcasting ability during the transformation.

This made Vaughn feel very insecure.

Unless one day he deciphers the essence of magic or magical power and can transform himself into a magical creature.

There will be one more chapter during the day!

(End of this chapter)