Chapter 169: Legendary Wizard!
A quill automatically flew up, writing rapidly, and in a short while, it recorded Vaughn’s experiences during this short period onto paper.
When it finished writing, Vaughn folded the parchment, put it into an envelope, sealed it, and took a phoenix feather from his satchel, lighting it on fire.
After waiting for a long time, he finally heard a crackling sound in the air beside him.
Crack!
“Caw—”
Fawkes, with disheveled feathers and panting heavily, plunged down, but even with such an ungraceful landing, and despite the cold ground late at night, Fawkes still glared fiercely at Vaughn with its wide-open eyes!
Its aggressive demeanor was as if it wanted to peck open the red-haired boy’s skull with its sharp beak and see what cruel things were inside—
From England to America!
Summoning it across nearly 4000 miles!
Is this something a human could do?
And you still want to send a letter? Dream on!
Then, it saw Vaughn pull a golden, thumb-sized bottle from his satchel…
Fawkes’s eyes immediately straightened, the feathers on its neck subconsciously relaxed, as if afraid of scaring away that delicious little treat!
Seeing Fawkes stare intently at the bottle and quickly become obedient, Vaughn smiled: “Deliver this letter to Dumbledore. If Dumbledore has a reply, bring it back to me, and this bottle of Felix Felicis will be your reward.”
Oh, this…
Having Apparated 4000 miles and feeling utterly exhausted, Fawkes really wanted to refuse, but…
The enchanting golden glow of Felix Felicis almost dyed Fawkes’s pupils the same color. This noble phoenix struggled for a moment, then tremblingly extended three claws!
“Impossible! Felix Felicis is the most difficult potion to brew, taking at least half a year. The final product is also very small, less than 1 ounce… Bottles like this can only hold 4 or 5, they are extremely precious and rare!”
“Caw?”
Seemingly surprised that its snack was so valuable, Fawkes hesitated, retracted one claw, and then looked at Vaughn resolutely:
This is the bottom line!
“No, only 1 bottle!”
“Caw!”
“What’s the point of you eating so much? You have to undergo Nirvana anyway.”
“Caw caw!”
After a period of haggling, Vaughn eventually agreed to Fawkes’s request.
Having “extorted” two bottles of Felix Felicis, feeling like he had made a great profit, Fawkes ate some of the potions Vaughn provided to replenish its energy and magic power, then vigorously grabbed the letter, flapped its wings, and took off, disappearing into the air in an instant.
A journey of 4000 more miles awaited it.
Watching Fawkes disappear, Vaughn, feeling like he had “lost a lot of money,” rummaged through his satchel, pulled out parchment, and began to write another letter:
【Dear Professor Snape, I hope this letter finds you well. The Felix Felicis you sent me last time was a great help… Attached is a probability calculation of potential event outcomes under the influence of Felix Felicis for your reference. Of course, I still need more data. If possible, please provide at least 3 ounces…】
A letter was quickly written, and Vaughn checked it again before folding it with satisfaction, planning to have Fawkes “take it back incidentally” the next time it came!
As for the shameless demand in the letter… wasn’t it only natural?
Vaughn Weasley, President of WAC and inventor of Wolfsbane Potion, was too busy to brew Felix Felicis for a bird!
It’s summer vacation anyway, Professor Snape must be idle…
…
“Severus, you’re idle anyway…”
In Spinner’s End, the door of the old house was half-open, and Snape stood behind it like a ghost, watching Dumbledore, who was shamelessly trying to push his way in.
He braced the door with one hand, his face expressionless: “No, I’m busy!”
“Don’t joke, I can already smell the mold in your house. This kind of life is very unhealthy, Severus, you need to get active!”
“Let go!”
“I won’t… Oh dear, what is that, a graduation photo?”
Snape quickly turned back, and the next second, seeing the empty wall behind him, he understood.
But taking advantage of this opportunity, Dumbledore had already squeezed in. The old man dusted off the wrinkles on his clothes, let out a satisfied sigh, and began to lecture: “My dear Severus, you need to correct your thinking. The same trick always works on you, and that’s not good!”
“…”
Snape stared straight ahead with dark, numb eyes, wanting to say a mouthful of profanities.
However, he knew that verbal attacks were useless against that shameless old wizard, so he flicked his hair, trying to shake off the urge to curse.
Then, he saw Dumbledore looking at him with concern:
“My dear, how long has it been since you washed your hair?”
“…”
“I’m guessing it’s because Vaughn has been busy lately and hasn’t sent you shampoo, right? My child, you should let go of this obsession. Besides, the Potter family sold the Hair Smoothing Potion company long ago. That brand of shampoo has nothing to do with the Potter family anymore. Why are you bothering yourself?”
Dumbledore rambled on.
He expertly took out a cup, chanted a cleaning spell, and then found some tea leaves:
“Aha, lemon black tea, Vaughn’s favorite. I knew I’d find it here!”
Snape’s face darkened: “What do you want? If you’re just here to amuse yourself, then please get out of my house!”
“You speak so harshly, my dear.”
“I’m being quite polite by not casting a Killing Curse on someone who forces their way in.”
Summoning a kettle, Dumbledore poured himself a cup of tea and sat down with a smile on the only lounge chair in the dim living room, sighing comfortably:
“I like this chair. I didn’t expect you to enjoy life so much.”
Snape felt his chest swell with anger, almost about to explode.
After teasing him for a while, Dumbledore finally stopped provoking him. He reached into his robes and took out a box, placing it on the desk beside him and opening it gently:
“I came to let you see this.”
Although very annoyed, seeing that Old Dumbledore was getting down to business, Snape leaned over.
In the dim light from the ceiling of the living room, he saw a ring of ancient design lying in the half-open box.
The ring was entirely golden, carved with patterns that resembled waves or scales. At first glance, it looked like a snake biting its own tail.
At the junction of the “head” and “tail,” a black gemstone was embedded, with a crest engraved on its surface.
Snape had little knowledge of crests and carvings and couldn’t tell what those patterns represented. Moreover, he knew that Dumbledore didn’t ask him to look at the origin of the ring, but at the spell cast upon it.
After observing it for a moment, Snape took out his wand and poked it.
As the tip of his wand touched the ring, wisps of black smoke rose.
Snape frowned: “A very insidious curse…”
Dumbledore nodded: “Yes, from a powerful dark wizard.”
“You want me to break it? Then you’ve come to the wrong person, I don’t have that ability.”
“No.” Dumbledore shook his head. “Before coming to you, I had already consulted an expert in dark arts. His answer made it clear to me that this curse cannot be removed by ordinary methods… unless there’s a special way.”
Snape, who was still slowly experimenting with various spells on the ring with his wand, looked up at the words:
“What method?”
“Put on the ring and let the curse transfer to a person.” Saying this, Dumbledore looked at Snape expectantly: “Severus, if you were to do that, would you be able to cure the damage it causes with potions?”
“…?”
A giant question mark appeared in Snape’s mind. He stared at Dumbledore, almost thinking he had gone mad: “Do you know what you’re saying?”
“Of course, of course, I know it’s very dangerous, but…”
Bang!
Snape waved his wand and closed the box, his face ashen: “No ‘buts’! What do you think a curse is? A cold? Or scabies? Or what do you think I am? A Muggle’s wish machine? Or the omnipotent God in Muggle tales?”
He sneered, lifting his lips: “Oh, yes, maybe it’s Albus Dumbledore, the great White Lord who thinks he’s more powerful than the God in legends, and a mere curse can’t harm him?”
Dumbledore sighed: “Severus, you know I don’t mean that. I’m consulting you…”
“No, you want my support!”
Snape bluntly exposed him: “To support you putting the ring on your hand, transferring that damned curse to you, so that you can possess this ring!”
“…”
After a moment of silence, Dumbledore’s expression visibly sank: “So, you can’t do it either?”
“Yes, I’ve disappointed you, Mr. White Lord!”
Snape said sarcastically and maliciously: “Of course, I do have another idea. Perhaps you could find a Muggle, have them put on this ring, transfer the curse to them, and then you kill them. Then, the curse might disappear. Want to give it a try?”
Dumbledore gave a wry smile. Grindelwald had also mentioned this method to him.
But obviously, he couldn’t do it!
Reluctantly, he asked again: “Really impossible?”
Snape’s face was stern, and he shook his head: “Although its specific effects are unclear, just from the residual magic on it, I can judge that once cursed, I can at most extend your life for a period of time…”
Dumbledore looked up hopefully.
This made Snape furious. He thought he had already stated it quite severely, yet the other party still held naive fantasies. So, he stopped holding back and retorted sarcastically: “Don’t get your hopes up. At most, it’ll extend your life by a month or two, just enough time for you to decide where to be buried, let alone think of an epitaph!”
“Oh, I do have a good idea. The epitaph could be written as: Albus Dumbledore, a Legendary Wizard of the highest order, who ultimately died foolishly!”
Although disheartened, Snape’s final sarcasm made Dumbledore burst out laughing:
“If I ever die, you can add that sentence, hahaha—”
Humph!
Snape snorted coldly, unable to comprehend what kind of substance was in Old Dumbledore’s aging head.
He must be thinking of something unspeakable!
While secretly complaining, he looked at the box again, full of doubts—what exactly was that ring? Why did Dumbledore value it so much?
Noticing his gaze, Dumbledore’s smile faded, and he was about to say something when he suddenly stopped.
Soon, a burning light appeared in the dim air of the living room. The next second, with a crackle, Fawkes, its feathers as if scorched, fell weakly from the air.
Dumbledore quickly caught it. Seeing him, Fawkes raised a trembling claw, to which a letter was tied:
“Caw~~~”
Dumbledore’s expression flickered, and he took the letter.
Snape, observing with a cold eye, secretly stretched his neck to glance at the envelope, and then he became uneasy.
He was too familiar with the ornate script on the envelope.
“Is it Vaughn’s letter?”
Recalling that Vaughn had led a delegation to North America and had recently been paying attention to North American news, Snape knew how dangerous that land was.
Looking at the exhausted Fawkes, Snape couldn’t help but break out in a cold sweat. Was there danger over there?
Once this thought arose, it could not be dispelled. Snape, forcing a poker face, watched Dumbledore anxiously as he opened the letter.
Dumbledore paid no attention to Snape’s concern.
His attention was entirely focused on the envelope—it was enchanted!
Normally, Vaughn wouldn’t go to such lengths to communicate with him, as Fawkes was the one delivering the letters. Although this phoenix looked like a chicken and was often teased and bullied by Vaughn, as one of the top predators among magical creatures, its own magical abilities were actually very powerful.
Let alone ordinary wizards, many Aurors were no match for it.
The spell covered the entire envelope. It wasn’t powerful in itself, but it would immediately destroy both the sender and the letter if the recipient didn’t open it according to procedure!
In its external manifestation, it was a seal, shaped like lips.
It slowly opened under Dumbledore’s gaze: “Please answer the password: What is Vaughn Weasley’s opinion on British cuisine?”
Yes, a password spell, something common at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore thought for a moment and replied: “Terrible, unbearable!”
Upon hearing this, the lip-shaped seal melted and receded, revealing the opening.
Clearly, the password was correct!
Snape was bewildered. Noticing his confused expression, Dumbledore chuckled: “Although Vaughn grew up in England, he detests English food and is instead fond of East Asian culinary culture… Oh— he never told you? I thought you two were very close, and you should know about this little eccentricity of his.”
Snape’s face fell, and he retorted: “Yes, not as close as you two. Perhaps you should show that ring to Vaughn. He’d definitely encourage you to put it on quickly, and then die quickly!”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Severus. It’s precisely because of Vaughn’s warning that I’m handling the ring cautiously. To tell you the truth, if it weren’t for his constant opposition, I would have succumbed to the ring’s temptation long ago…”
Hmm?
Snape felt he had heard something extraordinary.
However, he was not in the mood to ponder the truth of it at the moment. He eagerly watched Dumbledore take out the letter and unfold it.
The letter seemed to contain quite a bit, densely written in Vaughn’s beautiful cursive script. However, it was unclear what was described inside. As Dumbledore read the letter, his brow gradually furrowed.
After enduring for a while, seeing Old Dumbledore’s brow furrow deeper and deeper without speaking, Snape dryly asked: “What did Vaughn… encounter? You look a bit troubled!”
“Ah…”
Dumbledore responded perfunctorily and continued to read the letter.
Only after finishing the last page, Snape’s face turned black with impatience. He then said thoughtfully: “…He encountered a wizard and asked if I knew him.”
That’s it?
Snape asked in confusion: “What’s his name?”
“That’s the problem. The other party said his name was DeSantis. Vaughn inferred that we should have met at the Federation… but I have no memory of this person…”
Although Snape always called Dumbledore “senile,” he understood very well that as a master of Legilimency, Dumbledore could not forget anything.
“Then that means ‘DeSantis’ is a fake name,” he reasoned matter-of-factly.
Dark wizards loved doing such things; he was all too familiar with it!
Dumbledore nodded: “There are wizards with that surname, but it’s a small Italian family with almost no presence, and they haven’t established branches in North America.”
“So, what is Vaughn consulting you about? Is he worried that you, a Legendary Wizard, might be associated with a dark wizard, affecting your image?”
Listening to Snape’s sarcasm, Dumbledore simply smiled and handed him the letter.
Snape took it, and his pupils constricted at the first glance:
【…He cannot be an unknown person. His Memory Magic, in my opinion, is almost at your level, especially that memory construct, which is extremely similar to a real life…】
【…His organization is called the Arcane Brotherhood. From our brief conversation, it seems this organization has existed for a long time, but before coming to North America, I reviewed a large amount of material, including the North American intelligence you provided to the Federation, and this organization never appeared… Does his spell really have such a far-reaching influence?】
Snape quickly skimmed the letter, becoming more and more astonished as he read.
Although Vaughn didn’t explicitly state it in the letter, everything between the lines pointed to “DeSantis'” existence being beyond the ordinary!
After finishing the letter, Snape returned it in a daze. He looked at Dumbledore, who had a thoughtful expression, and his throat dryly rolled a few times as he asked: “A nameless… Legendary Wizard? Are there other Legendary Wizards in the world?”
In the wizarding world, “legendary” was not a title of honor, but more like a description of a state of being!
Of course, in reality, there were no state divisions. State divisions require quantification, and in neither Muggle society nor the wizarding world is there a basis for quantifying the depth of a person’s abilities or the strength of their magic.
You couldn’t point to a scientist and divide their knowledge into levels 1, 2, 3, 4. Exams could only reflect theoretical and exam experience, but in other aspects of knowledge, such as practice and research, there was no clear way to quantify the level of skill.
Magic was the same. Where was the precise line dividing a spell? How could the magic power within a wizard be quantified into numbers? Even if it could be quantified, could the numerical values reflect fundamental differences?
No!
Essentially, from the moment a young wizard’s magic erupts, there is no difference in their life form and quality compared to any adult wizard.
In a general sense, wizards see the world as having only three types of people: Muggles, Squibs, and Wizards!
Muggles represent a lack of magic and spellcasting ability; they are another species. Squibs have magic but cannot cast spells, making them awkward in-betweeners.
And wizards are wizards, with no distinction in superiority or inferiority!
Of course, this is not absolute truth. There are indeed rare situations among wizards—when a wizard’s magic advances to a very profound stage, their essence undergoes a transformation.
But the problem is, this is still an unquantifiable result!
In Snape’s mind, the names of the Legendary Wizards he was most familiar with came to mind, the first naturally being Merlin.
He had almost become a symbol of the magical community in England, but it was too long ago.
Secondly, there were Nicolas Flamel, Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald, and… Voldemort!
Snape was “lucky” that he had served two of the four Legendary Wizards he knew!
But it was meaningless. What did these wizards have in common? He only knew they were powerful, but in what specific way were they powerful?
Was Nicolas Flamel powerful as a Legendary Wizard?
But Snape had heard that this very long-lived old wizard was as fragile as a porcelain doll, shattering at the slightest touch.
Therefore, Snape could not judge whether Vaughn’s words implied such a possibility!
Facing Snape’s question, Dumbledore thought for a moment and shook his head:
“I don’t know…”
He paused and continued, “You asked me this before, and my answer is still the same. I don’t know exactly what it takes to reach the legendary stage… It’s not like a real road where if you keep walking, you’ll definitely reach the destination…”
“To describe it specifically, it’s like you’re walking on the path of magic, and then for some reason, you can’t move forward anymore. There’s only nothingness ahead, and no trace of the path can be seen.”
Snape was very familiar with this passage. He had asked Dumbledore the same question a few years ago when his magic began to stagnate, and he still remembered the subsequent conversation.
“How did you continue walking?”
“I can’t describe it, Severus. I just remember one day, I could suddenly see the path ahead again…”
However, unlike that time, Dumbledore added a sentence today: “That feeling was like… a leap? That’s a word Vaughn told me, and I think it fits very well. Some sudden opportunity, allowing me to leap over that nothingness and find the path again!”
He paused, his brow furrowing even deeper: “No signs, no outward manifestations, no discernible basis.”
Snape remained silent.
This answer was both unexpected and expected. It was simple for a wizard to hide, and Snape knew a famous example—Azkaban!
It once belonged to a powerful wizard who hid on the island of Azkaban, conducting human experiments on sailors, eventually creating the disgusting creatures known as Dementors.
Azkaban was located in the North Sea, essentially right under the Ministry of Magic’s nose, yet the Ministry had remained unaware for years.
It wasn’t until many years after his death, when the magic shrouding the island finally failed, that the Ministry belatedly discovered it!
“So, according to Vaughn’s description, what’s your assessment of the possibility?”
Dumbledore said nothing more.
But his serious expression was already an answer.
Snape stood there stunned, a multitude of thoughts flooding his mind. He murmured, “If that is truly a Legendary Wizard…”
“Then it means the situation in North America might be more complex than we anticipated, and Vaughn will be in great danger there…”
Dumbledore said calmly and “cruelly.”
He paid no attention to Snape’s crumbling expression, nor did he have the mood to inquire about the potions anymore. Clutching the stack of letters, he left, saying, “I’m sorry, Severus, I have to bother an old friend again. We’ll talk another day.”
With that, he picked up the still-dying Fawkes and left in a hurry.
Snape was left alone, stunned and powerless, staring blankly. The airflow from Apparition swirled in the dim room, rustling his robes, but he was completely unaware…
…
Austria.
The Alps meandered through this small country. If viewed from high above, the lines of mountains and hills resembled blood vessels, stretching across a large part of the land.
In this mountainous country, human traces were greatly compressed by the magnificent work of nature. All that met the eye were vast, desolate mountains and forests.
Crackle!
Holding Fawkes, Dumbledore Apparated onto a mountainside. Due to the high altitude, dark rocks were covered with white snow, further accentuating the stern atmosphere.
“Caw~~~~~”
As if stimulated by the cold temperature, Fawkes struggled to lift its head. The black and white landscape and the rugged, winding mountains made it even more weary. It listlessly buried its head back into Dumbledore’s embrace.
“Sleep, rest well, it will be warm soon.”
Comforting it, Dumbledore drew his wand, cast a spell on himself, and then trudged onward, braving the snow and biting wind.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, the surrounding trees became sparser, the snow thicker, and the howling wind became like knives. Dumbledore finally saw a tower between the ice and snow and the mountain wall ahead.
It was like this mountain, a blend of black background and white snow, cold and stern!
And desolate and uninhabited!
The walls of the tower looked like they hadn’t been maintained for a long time, with some areas weathered and peeling, pockmarked, with cracked textures subtly spreading, covered in streaks of snow.
The intricately carved gate, with its weathered and incomplete carvings and faded paint, added to the sense of decay. Only above the gate could a line of text be faintly discerned:
【For the Greater Good】
“Nurmengard…”
Dumbledore murmured the name of the tower. Although this was his second visit in a short time, his inner turmoil had not diminished in the slightest.
Yes, this was Nurmengard Castle.
It was this tower that had imprisoned Gellert Grindelwald, who had stirred up world affairs decades ago!
In fact, just over a decade ago, this place had not looked so decrepit.
At that time, the tower was filled with Aurors. Aurors from England, France, Austria… most European countries had dispatched strong Auror teams to be stationed here.
“But time is the most terrible Obliviation!”
This was a quote Vaughn had once said, and Dumbledore unconsciously borrowed it. As time passed, people gradually forgot Grindelwald’s might.
Because Grindelwald was also gradually being forgotten by time…
Old age!
Death!
Just like many prominent figures in history, whether Muggle or magical, heroes or dark lords, they all eventually faced the arrival of their end.
However, Gellert’s end came a bit too soon…
A faint sadness permeated his heart. After a while, Dumbledore composed himself, slowly pushed open the door, and stepped into the dark entryway of the tower.
This place had not been maintained for over a decade. Since Gellert rapidly weakened and gradually lost his magic, his imprisonment by Europe had been completely lifted.
The Aurors had all left, and his once numerous followers had never reappeared.
What occupied this place now was only ice and snow, a bleak and cold wind that swept through, endless desolation, loneliness, decay, and…
Dumbledore walked a few more steps.
As if passing through some barrier, the darkness ahead suddenly receded, and a twilight-like light gradually filled his vision.
Serene, tranquil, settled.
As if time had frozen!
Frozen in amber…
“Ah—you’ve come again, Albus…”
What met his eyes was a courtyard. Unlike the cold and desolate, snow-covered world outside, this courtyard filled with amber light had many flowers in bloom.
They stood peacefully in the flowerbeds, unmoving, like yellowed photographs, giving a fleeting illusion of them possibly vanishing at any moment.
But Dumbledore knew that this was not an illusion.
From the depths of the flowerbeds, a greeting voice called out. He followed the sound, and amidst the flowers and grass, a pavilion’s outline could be vaguely seen.
A emaciated old man sat in the pavilion, contemplating a partial game of chess.
Dumbledore walked over softly: “It is I, Gellert.”
The old man did not look up. The light shining from the side cast deep shadows on his wrinkled face. He stared at the chessboard, hesitating on his next move, and asked faintly: “Is there something else? If it’s still about that ring, I advise you to give up.”
Saying this, he seemed to have finally made up his mind and gently picked up a chess piece.
His movements were very slow, his withered hand trembling slightly, as if even this small movement consumed his meager strength.
Dumbledore’s sapphire-blue eyes dimmed, and after a moment of silence, he stepped forward, took his hand, and helped him make the move.
“Thank you,” he said.
“…You’re welcome…”
This strange and distant conversation made Dumbledore feel a bit dazed, but he quickly adjusted his state, sat opposite Grindelwald, placed Vaughn’s letter beside the chessboard, unfolded it, and pushed it towards him.
Grindelwald finally looked up. The shadow of the light receded, and what appeared before Dumbledore was a face aged but still recognizable.
“What is this?”
“A letter from a young wizard. Take a look, I’d like to consult you about the situation mentioned inside.”
“Oh.” Grindelwald replied blandly, and with trembling hands, he pushed aside the stacked letters: “Is it that young wizard named Vaughn Weasley?”
“Mm!”
“It seems he is highly favored by you. Over the years, you have only done this for two people. Once for Harry Potter, you felt indebted to that child. So, what is the reason for Vaughn Weasley?”
