Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 76 The Power of a Max-Level Spell

The excitement kept Vaughn from sleeping.

He rolled out of bed, and the drowsy Guoguocha yawned and jumped to his feet.

Looking at his double-digit reputation points, Vaughn was mesmerized for a while before he could barely control his excitement.

Take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.

Looking at the large number of spells he knew on the system panel, Vaughn began to consider how to allocate skill points.

The spell had already been chosen.

He is a very meticulous planner, and once he sets his mind on a plan, he will not easily waver. Although the "Dark Magic Cloak" gives him hope of mastering dark magic, it still needs to be verified for the time being, so he will not consider it.

We will continue to follow the original plan and prioritize our current main defensive and offensive methods.

Ironclad Curse and Disarming Curse!

Since entering level 4, improving these two spells has become increasingly difficult. In the first month after enrolling, he was able to improve by 1 or 2 points each week through diligent practice.

By December, there had been no improvement for an entire month.

Vaughn could sense that the current level of these two spells seemed to have reached the limit of his spell talent level 7. To push them to level 5, he would have to invest reputation points!

In the system's hierarchy, a spell reaching LV5 represents both the spell's maximum level and a mastery of the spell, reaching a level of unparalleled proficiency.

Although he currently only has the Brain Occupation spell at its maximum level, and this spell is limited by his expertise in memory, it has not shown any magical effects.

But Vaughn felt that a max-level spell should be more than just increasing power.

Without further hesitation, he invested 15 reputation points to max out his Ironclad Charm and Disarm Charm.

He then picked up his wand and called out, "Fruit Tea, let's go try out some spells."

Guoguocha immediately perked up and followed him eagerly.

The man and his cat swaggered along, ignoring the curfew, until they reached the House of Requirement, where they encountered Mrs. Lorice and Peeves who were with her.

Upon seeing Vaughn, Pippi cursed and ran away. Vaughn ignored it, gave Lady Lorris some supplements, and sent it off to cause trouble for the other night-roaming wizards.

Across from the tapestry depicting the troll beating Barnabas, Vaughn released his Occlumency, thinking he needed a room to practice spells.

Soon, the door to the Room of Requirement opened.

The Room of Requirement has several spell practice rooms, some large and some small.

I was lucky this time; I was randomly assigned to a large practice room.

It was almost the size of two classrooms, with more than a dozen wheeled training puppets scattered throughout the spacious area, each wielding weapons such as swords and crossbows.

This large practice room was enchanted; the puppets would awaken from their slumber whenever someone entered.

As the puppets' eyes gradually glowed red and they rapidly glided around the arena on their wheels, Vaughn, who had been there several times before, knew they were waiting for him to use his spell.

He didn't use a wand, but instead gently waved his hand in front of him.

A suit of armor suddenly appeared around him, and Vaughn noticed the change in the appearance of the Armored Charm immediately.

Its original form was an illusory bubble or armor, but now, the max-level Ironclad Spell has completely changed its appearance.

Its current overall shape is somewhere between a bubble and armor, but in terms of specific details, layers of fine scales emerge on its surface.

It was as if a semi-transparent behemoth was enveloping Vaughn, protecting him from harm with its powerful scales and skin.

call out--

In the distance, a puppet fired a crossbow bolt.

This training ground, likely built in the Middle Ages, still retains the barbaric style of that era. Even during practice, real weapons were used, with sharp and menacing arrows.

But the lightning-fast arrow bounced away with a clang the moment it struck the Ironclad Spell.

Vaughn didn't move, and commanded, "Continue!"

Several melee puppets slid forward, wielding swords and blades to slash and thrust. The metal weapons struck the seemingly fragile iron armor, creating bursts of sparks.

The remotely mounted puppets in the distance were also constantly cocking their guns and firing.

But none of these attacks could shake the spell in the slightest.

It remained firmly suspended around Vaughn, showing no signs of being consumed.

While being beaten, Vaughn tried to connect with the spell and experience its changes.

Before long, he opened his eyes, his fingers turned, and with a thought, the Ironclad Spell, which he had previously been unable to control after summoning, slowly began to rotate.

In an instant, it spun faster and faster, and its nature and function began to change. Several flying arrows had just hit it when they were immediately "captured" by the magic spell, which resembled a rotating hemisphere, and then reflected back.

In the distance, several ranged puppets that were stationary were instantly pierced by an arrow, with only one sliding puppet escaping unscathed.

"This is the ultimate level spell..."

Feeling the armor enveloping him, Vaughn marveled inwardly at how the armor had blocked so many attacks without expending much power.

Then, he raised his right hand and, without a sound or staff, cast the disarming spell.

In an instant, a beam of red light as thick as an adult's arm surged out and crashed into a melee puppet, sending it flying.

At the same time, Vaughn, who already had experience controlling the Ironclad Charm, quickly established a connection with the Disarming Charm.

The spell's power, which would normally dissipate upon hitting its target, did not dissipate under his will. Instead, it suddenly split into more than a dozen snakes, gliding and bouncing across the ground and in the air like swimming snakes.

The whole scene resembled a spectacular fireworks display.

Almost every strike hit a puppet, which trembled as the weapons in their hands flew uncontrollably and clattered to the ground.

The puppets' eyes flashed red as they stood still.

Vaughn looked at his hands, his expression astonished: "Is this what it feels like to have an extreme understanding of a spell, to cast it at will... like controlling your own hand!"

He's suddenly gotten a bit arrogant.

I really want to run up to the eighth floor, wake up Dumbledore, and fight him!

Reason made Vaughn immediately forget this crazy idea. He was confident that he might have surpassed Dumbledore in terms of the Ironclad Charm and the Disarming Charm, but his magic power was not as strong as that old man's.

The tests were not comprehensive. For example, the effect of the Ironclad Curse in resisting magic was not as strong as that in resisting swords. In more intense and complex battlefield environments, the Disarming Curse still had the power to control the splitting.

However, Vaughn was still very happy.

He only calmed down after he noticed that his reputation points, which had been in the double digits, had returned to 7.

Still not rich enough!

After thinking for a moment, he allocated 5 of his remaining 7 points to Legilimency, raising it to LV2, as preparation for testing the "Dark Magic Cloak" later.

"Hmm, I'll have Harry try out the Level 2 Legilimency effect tomorrow!"

It's decided just like that!

Harry must be very happy.

"Achoo!"

Harry's sneezing hasn't stopped since the morning of January 1st.

He went to the school hospital early in the morning, but Mrs. Pomfrey said he didn't have a cold.

This made Harry anxious, and Ron told him, "In the wizarding world, sneezing is not a good thing; it means someone is talking about you."

Then they looked at each other and simultaneously thought of their embarrassing experience last night. They quickly turned their heads away to avoid embarrassing themselves by digging holes in the floor.

Today is the last day of the Christmas holiday.

In the morning, Harry and Ron used all their focus and effort to finally finish their homework. They decided to cherish their last moments of freedom and have some fun.

Unfortunately, the weather was against them, and a blizzard swept in outside the castle again.

In the end, they could only huddle in the common room, wasting their last half-day of vacation.

Ron pulled out the Wizarding Chess set, but he didn't play it himself. He had been playing against Harry for over ten days during the holidays and was almost sick of it—playing chess with a novice was a very painful thing.

Until Hermione returned.

As it turns out, no one is omnipotent; even someone as intelligent as Hermione has areas where she is completely unskilled.

Around the fireplace, Harry and Hermione, two terrible chess players, were locked in a fierce and sweaty game of chess.

Harry's queen, disheveled and furious, was dragging the king and beating him. Two bishops rode on the front of their chariots, rampaging across their own chessboard, completely ignoring Harry's desperate cries.

Hermione's two knights, completely ignoring the enemy soldiers right in front of them, drew their swords and hacked at each other until they lost arms and legs. Then they suddenly reconciled and prepared to crawl back to cause trouble for the chess player, because the emotional Hermione cursed them as cowards.

Ron, watching from the sidelines, felt a heart attack: "Merlin—why haven't you made any progress at all? If you had just made one correct move, all the key pieces wouldn't have betrayed you!"

"Shut up, Ron!" x2

Ultimately, the game ended in a draw—it simply couldn't continue. Harry's queen killed the king, and Hermione's two crippled knights, halfway up the mountain, suddenly changed their minds and, staggering, killed both the king and queen. They decided to revolt.

Ending the agonizing game, Hermione shoved the chessboard aside, deciding to banish this pastime forever.

Harry was unconvinced and wanted to continue.

Hermione quickly changed the subject, glancing around discreetly before asking, "Haven't we heard anything from the Man in Black during the Christmas holidays?"

Harry and Ron shook their heads: "No!"

"I wonder if Dumbledore has anyone he suspects..."

Hermione frowned with worry. Unlike Harry and Ron, who were carefree, the thought of a malevolent dark wizard lurking among the professor's group made her feel uneasy.

However, during her vacation, she had already considered all the professors. Most of them were just ordinary wizards who had worked at Hogwarts for a long time.

She even inquired with Professor McGonagall, mainly asking people who seemed mysterious and suspicious to her, such as Prophecy Professor Silby Trelawney.

Hermione still remembers Professor McGonagall's expression at that moment. Her face was deeply furrowed, as if she was forcing something as she said, "Miss Granger, you know I'm not one to speak ill of others, but Silby... she really doesn't meet my expectations for the Prophecy professor."

"You mean she can't predict the future, and is a fraud?"

"No, she can make predictions, but she's also... well, not exactly a liar, she just enjoys some theatrical performances..."

Professor McGonagall's explanation was halting and stammering.

Hermione didn't quite understand.

But at least she sensed that Professor Trelawney didn't seem to possess the powerful magical abilities of the "Black-Robed Man".

Although she was reluctant to admit it, after thinking it over, Hermione increasingly realized...

The only person who best fits the characteristics of the man in black is Snape!

She asked Harry, "Has Professor Snape been giving you any trouble lately?"

"Hermione, we're on holiday, how can he still cause me trouble?"

Ron chimed in, "He seemed really busy lately, I hardly saw him before Christmas... Speaking of which, Vaughn was acting all mysterious around that time too, could they be working together on a wolfsbane potion?"

Hermione thought for a moment and said to Harry, "Harry, you're still learning Occlumency with Vaughn, right? I think you should find an opportunity to ask Vaughn if he's noticed anything unusual about Professor Snape... Why do you look like that?"

Actually, if she hadn't brought it up, Harry had planned to forget about it today...

He really didn't know how to face Vaughn.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, Ron looking on with sympathy.

Hermione looked at them suspiciously: "Are you hiding something from me?"

The two shook their heads repeatedly: "No, absolutely not!"

Ron grabbed Harry's arm: "Harry, you're going to go find Vaughn, right?"

"You..." Harry's eyes widened at being betrayed by his friend, but under Ron's pleading yet threatening gaze, and fearing that Ron would self-destruct and drag him down with him, Harry had no choice but to swallow his anger and nod: "Alright, I'll ask him tonight."

Hermione temporarily set aside her suspicions about the two's strange behavior and said, "You ask first. If there's no result, I'll find another opportunity to talk to Vaughn."

That's how the matter was decided.

That night, although Harry tried his best to dawdle, Ron was afraid that if he continued to dawdle, Hermione would come to the boys' dormitory, so he pushed and shoved him out of the Gryffindor common room.

"Ronald! You're such a good friend!"

Harry angrily kicked the door a few times, which angered the fat lady, who scolded him severely. Harry had no choice but to run away to avoid being surrounded by the portraits.

I jogged to the Requirement Room, where Vaughn was already there.

It was still that cozy little house, perfect for reading. Vaughn held a thick book, "The Journey Through the Magic of Memory," a book Harry remembered.

He greeted her awkwardly, "Hi, good evening, Vaughn..."

To his relief, Vaughn didn't laugh at him, but casually pointed to the sofa opposite him, "Good evening, Harry, have a seat."

Harry sat down, determined to quickly ask Hermione the question she wanted him to ask, hoping to distract Vaughn and prevent him from bringing up yesterday's events.

"Vaughn, you've been with Snape the whole time, have you noticed him...?"

To his surprise, before he could finish speaking, Vaughn, who was flipping through a book, replied, "Are you still guessing that he is the man in black?"

Harry scratched his head: "Uh, we thought about it for a long time, and we still think Snape is the most suspicious."

Vaughn shook his head, but this time he didn't defend the professor. Instead, he said, "I can help you investigate, but how do you plan to repay me?"

"Return, in return?"

Vaughn grinned broadly. "My mastery of Legilimency has improved again. Now I can try to alter memories. Harry, you wouldn't mind helping me test it out, would you?"

Harry: "..."

He wanted to say that he was particularly bothered by it, but he didn't know if it was okay.

The holiday is over, the carefree days are gone, and the little wizard is back to the hellish life of studying.

The professors, who had been idle for half a month, seemed to be getting restless. On the first day after the holiday ended, they assigned a lot of homework to force the young wizards to break free from the relaxed atmosphere.

The results can be described as quite remarkable.

The little wizards who used to play and joke around in the courtyard a few days ago are becoming increasingly rare. Now, they are almost all holding textbooks, muttering spells with blank expressions.

Or they might hide in the library, sweating profusely while working on their papers.

In this tense atmosphere, a rumor quietly spread—the famous Harry Potter has gone mad!

It is said that many people have seen him sometimes writing papers and then suddenly raising his pinky finger and charmingly tossing his hair.

Some people have also seen him occasionally making frog-like croaking sounds while eating at the restaurant.

Neville confidently asserted that he had encountered Harry imitating a frog jumping in the bathroom.

At first, this was just some unfounded rumors, until the Potions class on the first Friday of the new year.

As usual, Professor Snape hovered around Harry, spewing venom and making sarcastic remarks.

However, Harry, who usually swallowed his pride and endured everything, acted like a madman that day, or rather, like a completely different person. He answered Professor Snape's deliberately difficult questions fluently, and even imitated Snape's tone to mock him at the end—

"Severus Snape! The famous Potions Professor, and this is all the questions he asks? Tsk tsk, I truly feel sorry for these students. To encounter such a mediocre and incompetent teacher at the very beginning of their academic career is the greatest misfortune of their lives!"

Everyone in the classroom at that moment, except for Vaughn Weasley who was absent, whether Gryffindor or Slytherin, was stunned.

They watched as Snape's face went from white to green, and then from green to black.

No one expected that the expressionless Snape could have such wonderful expressions.

The final result was predictable. Although Harry was quickly shocked and seemed to wake up from a dream, frantically apologizing to Snape, Snape was still furious and deducted a full 30 points from Gryffindor.

Of course, no one in Gryffindor blamed Harry; Hermione would earn back those mere 30 points.

They just felt sorry for the poor guy.

"He must be driven crazy by the heavy workload," Justin Finley of Hufflepuff said confidently. "I've seen students like that in Muggle schools, you know. Before I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter, I was preparing for my Eton College entrance exams."

This is the umpteenth time he's talked about Eton College; he'll bring up any topic.

Even though nobody knows what it is.

"Potter might be cursed!" Malfoy, with his henchmen, deliberately went to the Gryffindor table during a meal and said maliciously, "A cruel dark wizard has put a curse on him, and his madness has only just begun. Potter, you'd better watch out, who knows, you might really turn into a frog one day, or a madman spouting nonsense!"

Only Hermione and Ron know what Harry has been through.

On Friday night, a weary Harry returned to the Room of Requirement.

His listless appearance suggested he had been completely ruined.

His lifeless eyes stared at Vaughn: "Women, frogs, an arrogant potions genius... I'm really tired, Vaughn. What kind of fake memories are you going to fabricate for me? I don't care anymore!"

He was indeed exhausted; no one could get away unscathed after angering Snape.

Harry spent the entire afternoon in the Potions Office, cleaning up the mountains of potion ingredients for Snape and enduring the latter's incessant, sarcastic remarks.

He felt like his head was about to explode, and he deeply regretted not having firmly resisted Vaughn's proposal a few days ago.

Vaughn didn't say anything, but pressed his wand against Harry's forehead.

Harry remained motionless, letting him pull a strand of silver hair from his head.

After staring at the strand of silver for a moment, Vaughn casually tossed it away and shook his head: "Harry, your willpower is too weak. Normally, after practicing for this long, these false memories shouldn't be interfering with you anymore."

"Brain blanks, or overwhelming academic thinking, or useless distractions—these are all techniques of the Occupation Meditation method. They can ensure you are not affected by false memories, so why can't you always stick to it?"

"I……"

Harry opened his mouth, a little embarrassed, "Sorry, I accidentally spaced out again today..."

Although he intended to use Harry as a guinea pig, Vaughn did not forget what he wanted to teach him.

Quirrell was active at school all day, and even though he looked like Voldemort, who was parasitizing him, was no longer draining his life force, he seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep.

But no one knows when the Dark Lord will wake up or when he will discover his connection with Harry.

Both Vaughn and Dumbledore wanted Harry to keep his head intact, rather than letting a master of memory magic like Voldemort discover the flaw and use it to resurrect him.

After a moment's thought, Vaughn said, "Harry, it seems you lack a sense of urgency."

"...What do you mean?"

Harry looked at Vaughn, who had sat back down opposite him, and suddenly had a bad feeling.

Vaughn ignored his pale face and said, "You know I won't harm you, so your resistance to my intrusions and memory alterations is never very strong. Your trust and sense of security in me make your learning of Occlumency very inefficient."

In Harry's memory, Vaughn was never a very serious person. He had a bad sense of humor and was often smiling, although when he smiled, it was usually not for anything good.

But overall, he rarely saw Vaughn get serious.

Just like now...

goodong...

Harry swallowed hard, then asked nervously and cautiously, "So?"

His response was that Vaughn raised his wand.

"Capture the spirit, grasp the mind!"

Harry felt dizzy for a moment and instinctively leaned back. Having studied Occlumency with Vaughn for over two months and served as a target for Legilimency for over two months, he had already experienced the wondrous world of the mind.

However, they did not enter that wondrous scene of being suspended in mid-air today. He and Vaughn remained seated on the sofa, with the fireplace roaring beside them.

Harry was wondering what was going on when he saw Vaughn raise his hand and snap his fingers.

The surrounding scenery blurred for a moment—a cozy bookstore, a fireplace, a sofa. Harry felt as if he were sitting on a speeding train, with everything around him left behind.

When his vision cleared again, he saw that he was in a familiar abandoned classroom.

There is also a mirror covered with a black cloth, which sits in the middle of the classroom.

"Vaughn, why did you bring me here... Wait, is this my memory?"

Harry suddenly realized.

"That's right, Harry, these are your memories. You see your mom and dad here..." Vaughn said slowly, looking into the mirror, then turned to Harry, his expression chillingly calm.

"This memory must be very important to you, right?"

Harry was horrified; he already knew what Vaughn was going to do, and quickly stopped him, saying, "Wait, Vaughn—"

Vaughn sighed. "Harry, you'd better fight me with all your might..."

As he spoke, the black cloth of the Mirror of Erised from Harry's memory was lifted, and Harry saw the images of his parents appear in the mirror.

And Vaughn was reaching out to press them down.

In the space where that palm swept across, all colors faded!

"No--"

Harry woke up with a scream, gasping for breath, gripped by panic, terror, and the despair of having his most precious possession taken away.

It made it difficult for him to breathe.

Then, a hand was held out in front of him: "Have a piece of chocolate!"

Hearing that familiar voice, Harry grabbed the hand and screamed frantically, "Vaughn, give it back! Give me my mom and dad..."

He suddenly stopped and looked up.

Vaughn looked at him and smiled, "Got it now? How was the fake memory this time?"

"You...I..." Harry stammered, "Was that...just now? When?"

"When the mind is captured."

(End of this chapter)