Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 91 The Savior's Trial

Outside Hogwarts Castle, on the path leading to Hagrid's Hut.

The cobblestone path was slippery from the rain, and the four of them walked carefully on it. A slightly chilly wind swirled around them, carrying the drizzle. Harry and Ron, who were walking ahead with their heads down, kept sneezing, and their robes were soon soaked through.

But the two people and one cat following behind them, protected by waterproof and moisture-proof spells, were still in the mood to chat.

"Vaughn, when did you get back?"

"I just got back and was about to go back to Slytherin to rest for a while when Fruit Tea found me."

Hearing its owner call its name, Guoguocha, who was frolicking around, hopped over and rubbed against Vaughn's legs.

Hermione asked expectantly, "Is everything resolved?"

Vaughn nodded: "Pretty much. The next thing is a bit complicated. The Wizengamo and the werewolves need to write to the International Wizarding Association and the three parties need to agree on a time to discuss the establishment of a joint committee structure. I don't need to get involved in this kind of thing, so I will stay at the school until the end of the semester."

The little witch immediately smiled sweetly.

She glanced at her two friends walking ahead with their heads down, then quietly took Vaughn's hand and gently shook it, her inner joy hidden in the gesture.

"Achoo!"

Harry sneezed again, and he couldn't help but tug at his robe. The soaked robe had become very heavy and had completely lost its function of keeping him warm.

The wind blowing on it is so cold it chills you to the bone.

He glanced furtively at Ron beside him. Ron was in no better shape than him, clutching his robe and shivering in the cold wind. His face was as white as Malfoy's, and his freckles seemed almost transparent.

"Ron, maybe we should wait for your brother... uh, I mean, wait for Vaughn."

Harry hinted.

But Ron clearly didn't want to admit defeat.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have pulled Harry away first after seeing Vaughn more than ten minutes ago.

Ron snorted: "Don't expect him to cast a waterproof and moisture-proof spell on you, Harry. He loves seeing people in a mess. I don't even need to wait for him to know that we'll both end up getting soaked in the rain."

No, he just wants to see you look pathetic...

Harry thought to himself, but didn't dare say it aloud, fearing that Ron's fragile pride might crumble.

Through their previous experience practicing Occlumency, Harry had already discovered...

Vaughn may have a wicked sense of humor, but he generally wouldn't do anything to strangers.

His "bullying" often feels more like a slightly urging joke he makes to people he knows well—like right now.

The real waterproof and moisture-proof spell is a spell that can be learned in first grade. If the two of them had worked harder in class and read more books in their spare time, they wouldn't be foolishly braving the wind and rain now.

At least Harry felt that being bullied was no big deal; he had never wanted to experience that feeling before!

He grew up only accompanied by loneliness.

Oh, but Dali's bullying doesn't count!

Ron had no idea what Harry was thinking, otherwise he would have thought Harry was crazy. He muttered and recounted Vaughn's "care" for him since childhood to prove how wise it was for him to drag Harry away early, at least so as not to humiliate himself.

It would be even more convincing if his teeth didn't chatter when he spoke.

Fortunately, Hagrid's cabin wasn't far away. After crossing a hill, the cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest came into view, with white smoke billowing from its chimney. Yaya was squatting at the door, barking from afar.

A short while later, Hagrid, wearing an apron and carrying two umbrellas, came to greet them. Upon seeing them, he immediately complained:

"You two silly girls, don't you know any waterproof or moisture-proof spells? Why didn't you bring an umbrella?"

Harry and Ron were struck dumb.

Oh right...

Feeling ashamed of their own stupidity, the two huddled under Hagrid's umbrella, dejected.

Hagrid, ever the easygoing one, didn't seem to care. He watched Vaughn with Hermione from afar, waiting patiently for a moment until they approached. Then, he warmly stepped forward and gave Vaughn a hug.

"Kid, that's fantastic! The Werewolf Affairs Committee—that's the hottest buzzword in the papers this year. Nobody ever thought of it before. I mean, who cares about those poor werewolves... and those poor hybrids of magical creatures?"

As he spoke, he emotionally wiped the corner of his eye, probably thinking about his own background.

The ancient magical world has many problems. What Hagrid was talking about was that the abuse of magic led to the emergence of new species, but these new species could not be recognized in the magical world and could only become a marginalized group that no one cared about.

For a half-giant like Hagrid to be able to stay at Hogwarts is already considered very lucky; at least Dumbledore was willing to take him in.

However, his sadness was short-lived, and he quickly greeted everyone warmly, "Come on, children, I've made tea. It was a gift from Vaughn, and it smells wonderful!"

Whether the tea smelled good or not is another matter; the four followed Hagrid into his hut and discovered something strange—

In the small room, all the windows were blocked off. After inviting everyone inside, Hagrid immediately closed the door and even used rags to seal the cracks in the door.

The fireplace was blazing, and even in this chilly, damp weather, the sweltering heat was almost suffocating.

Harry, who had wanted to ask questions immediately, was so breathless that he couldn't speak.

Ron, who had been deathly pale a moment ago, was now so hot that he unbuttoned his collar: "Merlin, Hagrid, what are you doing? Did you really raise a fire dragon?"

pat!

Hagrid, who had just brought over the snacks, dropped the plate. He nervously wiped his forehead and said, "Good heavens, how did you know? Who else knew?"

"Nobody else knows, Hagrid. Hermione found your library card; we just guessed."

Hagrid breathed a sigh of relief and was about to say something when he saw Vaughn, who hadn't said much, walk to the fireplace and pick up the fire tongs to pok at the firewood inside.

The other three noticed as well. Ron seemed to have suddenly lost his memory, completely forgetting that just a few minutes ago he was criticizing his brother. He excitedly moved closer to Vaughn, Harry leaned on his shoulder, and Hermione peered over from across the table.

As Vaughn parted the firewood, a dark, watermelon-sized egg was revealed beneath the burning embers.

Ron held his breath, his eyes gleaming in the firelight: "This...this is a dragon egg?"

"Yes, isn't it beautiful?" Hagrid, still unable to get enough of looking at her after several days, exclaimed, dazzled, "What a perfect creature, isn't it?"

Vaughn crouched down to examine the dragon egg closely, casting a spell on his eyes. In his vision, the firelight gradually dimmed, while the life force emanating from the dragon egg became dazzlingly bright.

He nodded: "Yes, they are truly beautiful creatures."

Long ago, about a few years after he transmigrated, Vaughn, who had worked hard to learn English, began to browse through the limited collection of books in his home.

Most of them are history books of the magical world, and some are notes that Molly and Arthur copied from the Prewitt and Weasley families before and after their marriage.

If Vaughn wants to find the essence of magic, then he must first trace its origin and birth.

Before the establishment of the Wizarding Council (the predecessor of the Ministry of Magic, which was dissolved in 1707), the magical world did not have a unified governing body, so the tracing of magical history usually only relied on the notes of predecessors to glimpse one aspect.

Even after enrolling at Hogwarts, Vaughn spent at least half of his time in the library flipping through notes that seemed meaningless to other students.

Time is the most powerful spell of oblivion; everything will eventually be buried by the dust of time. He never expected to find the answer he was looking for in the book.

In the magical world, there are quite a few people who study the origin of magic, but they usually associate magic with civilization. In fact, most people believe that magic either originated in Egypt or in the more ancient East.

This is the mainstream view.

Vaughn was different from them. He believed that the original form of magic had never left people's sight, nor had it been hidden by time—magical creatures!

In his view, everything in the world originates from nature, and magic is no exception.

Perhaps the first wizards of long ago learned magic from magical creatures. Given that dragonpox, a shameful and historically significant disease, still exists in the magical world, he has reason to suspect that the magical bloodlines that pure-blood families are so proud of and so desperately try to protect may also have rather exotic origins...

The reason Vaughn is pursuing the origin and essence of magic is because he has been puzzled by one thing—through the system, he already knows that an ordinary adult wizard has a magic power scale of about 500 points, which is roughly the average level in the magic world, and his current magic power is approaching that limit.

Even though he's already close to average, he still feels powerless when facing Dumbledore.

When Vaughn faced Dumbledore, it was like facing a vast ocean, while he himself was just a babbling brook, relying solely on his own growth, with a sense of despair that he could never catch up to him in his entire life.

He had experienced a similar feeling with Voldemort!

This is what puzzles Vaughn the most. They are both wizards, and even if there may be differences in talent and bloodline, why is the difference so great?

The difference was so great that it was as if Dumbledore and Voldemort were no longer the same species as other wizards!

The feeling they gave Vaughn was that they had become part of the magic, part of the mystery; they were no longer wizards, but some kind of magical creature, or rather, mythical creature!

Beside the fireplace, Vaughn, whose eyes gleamed with a faint, magical light, gazed at the dragon egg in his field of vision, its life force shining brightly.

The light was so rich and intense, far surpassing that of humans, and unlike the pure white of humans, the life aura of the dragon egg was a fiery color.

In his view, if there was anything in the world that was closer to the life level of Dumbledore and Voldemort, it must be magical creatures.

Both are magical creatures, but the only difference is that magical creatures are born from nature, and nature is imperfect.

A few months ago, when Vaughn first realized the gap between himself and Dumbledore, he wanted to study magical creatures and try to understand why Dumbledore was so powerful by starting with the origin and nature of magic.

Or, what would it take for him to "evolve" into that form?

Of course, Vaughn knew that it was bound to be a huge project and there was no need to rush it, so he focused his main efforts on improving his spells and reputation.

However, he wouldn't let go of readily available material if it were offered to him.

While he was observing, Harry and Ron had already started talking to Hagrid.

"Hagrid, how did you get it? I mean, there are almost no truly wild dragons left (they all live in protected areas). Back in the 17th century, to prevent Muggles from knowing about dragons, the wizarding world confined all dragons to their habitats."

Ron asked curiously.

Before Hagrid could answer, Hermione interjected, "This is the content of the 'International Wizarding Federation's Law of Secrecy.' In 1692, the entire wizarding community worldwide decided to conceal the existence of the wizarding world from Muggles. The first thing to be restricted was magical creatures. To this end, the International Federation invited intelligent magical creatures such as mermaids, centaurs, and goblins to form a delegation to sign the Law of Secrecy together."

Harry, who knew nothing about "common sense" and could only listen blankly, finally heard a familiar phrase and hurriedly said happily, "I know this Statute of Secrets. I read about it in the newspaper a while ago. Some wizards used it to attack Vaughn and werewolves, saying that the werewolves' reintegration into Muggle society could potentially trigger violations of the Statute of Secrets."

Hagrid, who was just about to answer Ron, was immediately distracted again. He stroked his beard and said, "Oh, that's a very serious problem. The secrecy laws cannot be violated, otherwise the International Wizarding Federation will discipline the whole of England, and even Dumbledore couldn't stop it."

He looked at Vaughn: "How did you guys finally resolve it?"

While thinking, Vaughn casually replied, "There's no solution. Werewolves need to work, and only Muggle society has enough space to support them."

Hagrid was speechless.

He didn't quite understand what body size meant, so he vaguely said a few words like "very good" and "insightful," before returning to Ron's earlier question, his expression immediately becoming animated:

"How did you get your hands on this dragon egg? Ron, you'd never guess!"

Before Ron could ask, he excitedly told him, "This is my spoils, Ron. A Greek man made a bet with me—actually, I was just going out for a drink that day—and he lost. He didn't have anything valuable on him, so he gave me this dragon egg."

Hagrid gazed at the dragon egg in the fire, his heart filled with joy: "That's a truly good man who keeps his promises. I dare say he must have gone to great lengths to get his hands on this thing."

Ron was practically drooling with envy: "Yeah, nobody can keep a dragon these days. Hagrid, have you found out what kind it is?"

"certainly."

Hagrid took out a book he had borrowed from the library. "It says in this book that, judging from the pattern on the eggshell, it should be a Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon—very rare, with very few surviving specimens."

Now, Ron was really drooling.

In his view, rarity equals high price equals a large amount of Galleons equals financial freedom!

All night long, until they returned to the castle, Ron couldn't stop thinking about Hagrid's good luck.

"Why can't I find a single Greek who can lose to my dragon egg?"

As Ron lay in bed that night, he was still muttering this, with a hint of bitterness: "Maybe that Greek guy deliberately lost to Hagrid. He's probably worried about what to do with the dragon egg. It's certainly rare, but the crime he committed is also huge, right, Harry?"

After waiting a while without receiving a reply from Harry, Ron looked up at the bed next to him.

Harry was lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with its tassels hanging down from the bed.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

"...I'm thinking about what Hagrid said."

Ron paused for a moment before realizing what he meant: "Snape?"

Harry nodded.

Of course, he didn't forget his main purpose in going to find Hagrid. Even when everyone was focused on the dragon egg that night, he didn't forget to find an opportunity to ask Hagrid about it.

The answer surprised him somewhat.

"Harry, you already know that when I picked you up, I went to Gringotts to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone, right? It was terrifying. If Dumbledore hadn't ordered me to pick you up that day, it might have fallen into the hands of that thief who broke into Gringotts."

"So from then on, Dumbledore kept it at Hogwarts. Dumbledore set up powerful magical mechanisms, and every professor, including me, was involved. I provided Fluffy to guard the entrance... Yes, Harry, Snape was involved too."

"I don't know exactly what arrangements he made, but I heard Dumbledore say that Snape was in charge of the most important part. If Snape wanted to steal the Philosopher's Stone, he would have had the opportunity long ago, and he wouldn't have had to wait until now."

Harry repeated Hagrid's words to Ron.

Ron scratched his head: "Uh, that sounds reasonable."

This is exactly what frustrated Harry. He had considered magical mechanisms before; the trapdoor that Fluffy guarded was practically a classic example of a trap design.

However, he originally thought that the trap was set up by Dumbledore and that Snape was unaware of the specifics. On the contrary, Quirrell was likely deeply involved, which is why he witnessed Snape threatening Quirrell that day.

But now it seems that things are not like that.

He... seems to have misunderstood Snape all along.

This fact was hard for Harry to accept, and it even made him vaguely feel that something was wrong with the whole incident.

If Harry gained anything from studying with Vaughn for several months besides Occlumency, it was that he learned to think things through and use his brain first.

There's no way around it; if you don't keep your wits about you when dealing with someone as smart as Vaughn, you'll end up like Ron, full of resentment.

Now, looking back, Harry feels more and more that everything is too much of a coincidence.

Why did Dumbledore order Hagrid to take the Philosopher's Stone on the very day he was to be picked up?

Why did the people who broke into Gringotts make their move on that particular day?

Why did Dumbledore go to such great lengths to protect the Philosopher's Stone, which he hid in Hogwarts, by setting up a whole host of magical mechanisms?

In fact, Harry felt that it would have been safer if Dumbledore had kept the Philosopher's Stone hidden in the Headmaster's office or in his pocket without saying a word.

Ron was already asleep, snoring loudly.

Harry, burdened by too many unanswered questions, tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Just as the savior was suffering from insomnia once again, in the principal's office on the eighth floor.

As Dumbledore cast his spell, all the portraits fell into a deep sleep.

He and Vaughn then went to the Pensieve and watched the memories of the night in Hagrid's hut.

The haze of memories, like ink dripped into water, spread and diffused around the two of them.

Vaughn looked at his memories of himself, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and the dragon egg, his expression calm: "Quirok has already gotten the method from Hagrid on how to get past Fluffy... You really went for it, Albus, you even used a Confusion Charm on Hagrid to make sure he didn't let it slip."

"Oh—did you notice?"

Vaughn smiled knowingly. "I noticed it the moment I saw him. Poor guy, he still doesn't realize that the person he trusts most has cast a curse on him."

"Your progress in memory magic far exceeds my expectations, Vaughn."

Dumbledore praised him, then sighed, "Hagrid is a good boy, simple-minded. It's my fault for keeping him at Hogwarts all this time, preventing him from understanding the complexities of reality... Quirinus may be a little less clear-headed, but he still has basic discernment. To convince him that the Philosopher's Stone is not a trap, I must make everything as plausible as possible."

"Aren't you afraid Tom will find out? He's a memory magic master just like you."

Dumbledore winked playfully. "I checked beforehand, and Tom is still asleep. I have you to thank, Vaughn. Without unicorn blood, he has to hibernate frequently to avoid draining Quirinus dry."

As he spoke, his expression turned somewhat sad.

Quirinus was originally a student he had high hopes for. His original plan was to have Quirinus teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for a year, and after that, he would arrange for him to join the Ministry of Magic or the International Confederation of Wizards.

Unfortunately, things don't always go as planned.

Dumbledore couldn't say whether what caused all this was Voldemort's curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, or the disturbance caused by the fates of Voldemort and Harry.

But no matter which point, he is to blame.

If he hadn't found Quirinas last year, all of this...

Seemingly sensing his guilt, Vaughn couldn't help but add another sarcastic remark: "Albus, have you noticed that you're always wary of Slytherin, but the ones with the most problems are actually in the other house?"

Dumbledore: "?"

Vaughn counted on his fingers: "Quirinus Quirrell, Ravenclaw; Rita Skeeter, Ravenclaw."

Dumbledore's beard twitched, and he stubbornly replied, "It's just a coincidence!"

Vaughn smiled. There was one more thing he hadn't said yet. When Gilderoy Lockhart came to Hogwarts next year, he really wanted to ask Dumbledore again if it was a coincidence.

The two looked at the memories for a while longer. Perhaps to change the subject, Dumbledore greatly admired Vaughn's memory processing, believing that the memory he constructed was so clear and full that it could be mistaken for the real thing.

Miss Granger, in particular, was incredibly lifelike and captivating, with every smile and gesture so vivid and charming.

Vaughn rolled his eyes, too lazy to respond to his teasing, and only asked him as he left, "When do you plan to guide Quirrell in solving the other puzzles?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "I was just about to tell you about that. What do you think of those magical contraptions?"

Vaughn didn't answer, but his expression said it all—it was like children playing house.

"Would you like to make things a bit more difficult for Quirinas and Tom?"

"Um?"

(End of this chapter)