Chapter 148: The Tree Desires Stillness, But The Wind Won’t Cease
Beld chuckled dryly. He glanced at Travers, Greenwell, and Rose beside him, but no one responded to his pleading gaze.
Shameless Travers, in his role as Weasley’s loyal dog, looked around at the yellowing scenery with a smile.
Greenwell and Rose exchanged glances, secretly communicating something.
Even Amelia showed no resistance. Her serious gaze was fixed on Vaughn Weasley’s hand tapping the armrest, as if assessing the power of this strange magic.
John Beld suddenly understood why, when he had complained before, everyone had only offered verbal dissuasion and no one had stopped him.
It was because, among their group, including Amelia and Travers, everyone wanted to know how far Vaughn Weasley’s magical strength had progressed.
The difference was, they were all smart, and none of them wanted to be the first to stick their neck out!
Only he, the fool, had been so silly as to show it!
Thinking this, a hint of shame and annoyance flashed in John Beld’s eyes. He looked deeply at the others. His voice, which had trembled not long ago, suddenly became fluent due to his decision: “Yes, Mr. Weasley, I have some guesses about Fudge’s actions. Even if you don’t ask, I was about to tell you.”
“Since you were expelled from the Wizengamot Chamber last time, I think you know that Fudge will definitely retaliate against you. It’s not just you who knows this; everyone who knows about it, including Fudge himself, is aware.”
“Of course, given Fudge’s personality, he will absolutely not let this go. He will only implement his revenge plan more secretly and maliciously. So, what weaknesses do you currently have that he can exploit and is afraid of being known?”
“You possess such powerful magical strength yourself, come from the Weasley family, and have Dumbledore as your guarantor. You are so impeccable, but the WAC is not!”
“This newly formed organization is your biggest weakness right now. It was born amidst suspicion, and with just a gentle push, it will incite countless arguments—”
“—For example, during a WAC meeting, if news breaks of werewolves attacking wizards or Muggle villages…”
Is it possible for what John Beld said to happen?
Yes!
If Vaughn and Fudge were to swap positions, this would be the most suitable plan Vaughn could think of—it could disrupt the WAC meeting and ensnare the enemy in public opinion.
It should be noted that, up to this point, the Wizarding World, due to Rita Skeeter’s series of reports and the bias of media like the 《Daily Prophet》 and 《The Quibbler》, has generally sympathized with werewolves.
However, a thousand years of prejudice cannot be eliminated immediately.
The fact that werewolves cannot find any jobs in the Wizarding World is a clear indication.
Wizards generally still hold animosity and wariness towards the issue of werewolves, but instead of outright slander, they now focus more on the reliability of “lycanthropy” and “Wolfsbane Potion.”
This shift towards trust is very fragile.
So fragile that just one incident where the perpetrator’s identity is not revealed, just one attack that appears to be committed by a werewolf, could break it.
Then, the surging opposition and negative public opinion from wizards will completely drown Vaughn and the WAC!
*Thump…*
The knocking sound stopped abruptly.
Listening to John Beld’s words, Vaughn unfurled the fingers of his right hand, and the last slow ripple spread and vanished.
As the ripple dissipated, a sense of incongruity also disappeared. Like a frozen wave suddenly resuming its movement, the “colorful” world, previously devoid of color, rushed back in like a tide.
The chairs, the table, the teacup, and even the people… everything that had become dim moments ago, returned to its original color.
This change was silent, yet it struck the vision with vivid impact.
So much so that John Beld, in a daze, almost didn’t hear Vaughn’s question.
Vaughn, still propping his chin with one hand, asked him, “Who do you think Fudge will find to carry out his malicious plot?”
John Beld seemed not to have heard Vaughn state as a certainty something that had not yet happened or been confirmed. He replied normally, “He doesn’t have many choices. It has to be a dark wizard, or Greyback, sir!”
“Heh…”
Vaughn let out a short laugh. He gazed into the distance with a dazed expression for a moment, then asked, “John… may I call you John?”
“Of… of course!”
“Very good, my dear friend. I have a task for you now. Go and keep an eye on Greyback and his lackeys. I want to know their every move. Can you do it?”
“Of course.” John Beld paused, then instinctively asked, “And what about the dark wizards…?”
“The dark wizards will no longer be a problem.”
As Vaughn spoke, he stood up and gestured to Barty Crouch in the corner of the room. “Barty, about that thing you asked me last time, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. I can only make time today to take you to see it!”
“Now?” Barty Crouch, who had been observing coldly, stood up despite the questioning tone and called for Sparky.
Under Barty Crouch’s stern gaze, Sparky, who understood, did not babble but, wiping away tears, led the old master and Vaughn into the air.
As Vaughn left, the atmosphere in the originally heavy and stiff living room suddenly relaxed.
Henry Rose, from the Rose family, loosened his bowtie and let out a sigh of relief. “That was terrifying… I mean his magical strength, and his temper.”
Alred Travers smiled and glanced at him. “Mr. Rose, are you implying that the esteemed Mr. Weasley has a bad temper and is moody?”
“I didn’t say that, I just… he doesn’t seem to value us much, does he, George and John?”
George is George Greenwell. His thick cloak covered his face, making his expression unreadable, and only his sarcastic voice could be heard: “You don’t need to try to provoke me. The Greenwell family knows far better what Mr. Vaughn Weasley is like.”
Saying this, he turned his hooded face towards the frowning John Beld. “John, if you still remember our friendship as classmates, listen to me and do as he says.”
John became more confused. “George, what do you know?”
Perhaps remembering their past friendship, George drew his wand, pulled a strand of silver from his forehead, and gave it to John Beld. “You were just curious why he chose Greyback when you listed dark wizards and Fenrir Greyback as possibilities? The answer is here!”
“This is also why I came in person today. This matter has spread throughout the entire black market… Mr. Henry Rose, I especially advise you to take a good look, report this intelligence to Edward, and have him consider it carefully. Also, don’t drink the tea… That’s all. I’m going back to sort out my family’s connections in America. I’ll be going now, everyone!”
With that, before the others could react, George Greenwell gave a slight nod to them and Apparated away.
The living room, which had fallen silent again, remained so for a good while before Henry Rose’s grumble was heard: “What’s he playing at, being so mysterious.”
Despite saying this, George Greenwell’s serious tone made Henry Rose somewhat suspicious. He glanced at the porcelain teacup on the table.
It was still so exquisite, the red tea solidified inside like a gemstone…
Wait!
Solidified?
Henry Rose’s eyes widened. His finger trembled slightly as he slowly raised it to touch the teacup.
Then, his hand passed through it!
It was an indescribable sensation. He seemed to touch nothing, his fingers passing through it like air, yet at the same time, visibly, the exquisite porcelain teacup shattered!
It was as if a bubble reflecting an object had burst at his fingertips, scattering into wisps of dust, or shattered, chaotic light and shadow—
An object that truly existed had, at that moment, vanished like an illusory bubble!
Henry Rose’s face turned pale.
John Beld’s expression wasn’t much better. The ripples that had swept across the teacup and their bodies with the gentle tapping of Vaughn’s knuckles not long ago, resurfaced in his mind!
Then, he looked at his palm, at the wisp of memory George Greenwell had given him.
“John, give it to me. I can take everyone into my Mind World and read this memory together,”
Alred Travers suggested with a chuckle. The old wizard had seemed quite happy since the beginning of this gathering.
But… it had to be admitted that after today’s gathering, especially after Henry’s teacup vanished like a bubble, this wrinkled old man suddenly seemed unfathomable to Henry and John.
Crouch Manor, Basement.
The light was dim. Barty Crouch waved his wand, and as the wand moved, layers of spells on the wall were unlocked. The damp, dark wall bricks undulated like waves, intertwining and deforming.
Soon, a passage was revealed, leading directly to a deeper secret chamber.
“Your Memory Magic is becoming increasingly powerful.”
Barty Crouch said to Vaughn, who was following beside him as they walked into the passage, “Mind influencing reality… I always thought only Dumbledore or… the Dark Lord could do such a thing!”
Vaughn smiled enigmatically. “Isn’t that good? At least you don’t have to worry about me not being able to solve Little Barty’s problem.”
Old Barty glanced at Vaughn, hesitated, and asked, “You said before that the development of Persona Embodiment was facing difficulties. Has the problem been resolved now?”
“Not yet, just a little bit of a guess.”
“So you wanted to hold the gathering here and study my son to verify your guess?”
“Yes, after all, Little Barty is the best available research material!”
Old Barty wanted to speak but stopped.
At the end of the passage was a circular secret chamber. The surrounding walls were rough stone, bearing traces of spells and infused with many protective magics.
The entire chamber was 10 feet high. Braziers burning with pale blue magical flames were suspended high at the top of the chamber, where they could reach the ventilation opening.
That area was also enchanted to bring in fresh air from the surface, maintaining the need for breathing and flame combustion.
Besides this, the entire chamber contained only a restraint chair in the center, where Little Barty Crouch was bound.
When the two entered, Sparky, who had arrived first, was snapping her fingers, cleaning the dirt off Little Barty Crouch while wiping away tears.
Seeing Vaughn arrive, she opened her bright, large eyes and asked tearfully, “Great Mr. Weasley, when will the young master be cured? Sparky misses him!”
Vaughn rubbed her bald head and was about to answer when Little Barty Crouch, who had been hanging his head with his hair covering his face on the restraint chair, suddenly looked up. His mad eyes peered at Vaughn from behind his hair, and he began to curse:
“You filthy Weasley brat, do you think you and this old bastard can control me forever? One day I’ll get out! I’ll escape, find my master, and capture all of you, one by one, and torment you with the most vicious spells, you, and your family, and the one you love…”
Vaughn ignored his curses and threats, his eyes shining with a faint light. After a magical visual observation of Little Barty Crouch, he raised his hand and, with silent, wandless magic, sealed the other’s speech and hearing.
Then, he drew his wand and pointed it at Little Barty.
Little Barty immediately convulsed violently. The chains binding him to the restraint chair rattled. He rolled his eyes.
As Vaughn twirled his wand, Little Barty began to vomit, but what he spat out was not food or stomach fluid, but black mist.
Black, viscous mist, resembling oil, gushed from Little Barty’s nose and mouth, flowing onto the ground.
It did not “flow” outwards but gradually accumulated, slowly forming a humanoid outline similar to Little Barty Crouch.
Persona Embodiment!
But it was undoubtedly corrupted. Sensing the faint resistance from the Persona Embodiment he had woven himself and placed in Little Barty’s Mind World, and the intense malice emanating from it.
Vaughn opened his satchel, took out a crystal vial, and waved his wand, easily shattering the corrupted Persona Embodiment’s resistance and capturing it in the vial.
Only then did Old Barty Crouch, who had been silent, ask, “What is in there?”
“Little Barty’s corrupted memories, emotions, and everything related to his spirit,” Vaughn replied. “You can think of it this way: the Persona Embodiment I create is like a filter cloth. It covers the surface of Little Barty’s Mind World. Whenever he harbors dark or evil thoughts, it filters them out, like filtering tea leaves.”
Although Old Barty knew a little Memory Magic.
Although he also knew that Dark Arts corruption couldn’t be easily resolved, after hearing Vaughn’s explanation, he asked hopefully, “Now that the dregs have been filtered out, my son, he…”
Vaughn ruthlessly destroyed his delusion. “These filtered materials are just my research material. Dark Arts corruption is not just caused by the distortion of evil thoughts; it involves deeper things like the birth of consciousness and the origin of the soul.”
Old Barty was disappointed, but he also heard a glimmer of hope in Vaughn’s words.
A light flickered in his dim eyes. “You… already know how the corruption forms?”
Vaughn didn’t hide it either, nodding. “I’ve just had some leads recently. It’s very likely related to harming others with Dark Arts…”
Vaughn revealed his recent discoveries to Old Barty. “…You taught me Dark Arts (Fiendfyre). You know best that I had no signs of corruption before, until I killed those six dark wizards.”
Old Barty was not surprised by Vaughn killing people.
He himself was a person of extreme character. During the Wizarding War more than ten years ago, he was the one who advocated for the Ministry of Magic to lift the ban on Aurors, allowing them to use Unforgivable Curses against Death Eaters.
He was a prime example of using any means necessary to achieve his goals!
Later, after rescuing his son, to prevent exposure, he could even cruelly use the Imperius Curse to control his son for over a decade. How could such a person be a pure innocent?
Let alone Vaughn killing dark wizards, even if Vaughn had killed innocent wizards or Muggles, he wouldn’t have been that surprised!
Hearing Vaughn’s guess, Old Barty Crouch’s numb face twitched. He neither agreed nor disagreed but asked, “Is there any way to prove your hypothesis?”
The firelight in the secret chamber’s brazier flickered. Vaughn, reweaving a Persona Embodiment, smiled and retorted, “I heard that if evil thoughts are not strong enough, even using Unforgivable Curses won’t cause much damage. Is that true?”
Among the wizards Vaughn had encountered, those qualified to be called masters of Dark Arts, deeply immersed in it and not having lost their sanity, were Dumbledore, Snape, and Old Barty Crouch.
He had no way to consult the former two. In their minds, Vaughn was indeed important, but Harry Potter was equally important.
Because of Harry’s existence, they could permit and overlook some things, but there were some things they would never support.
However, such questions did not exist with Old Barty.
Old Barty didn’t care about the Chosen One or Voldemort.
Now, he only cared about his son!
Whether this care was paternal love or a promise to his deceased wife…
As expected, hearing Vaughn’s retort, Old Barty, who had fought alongside many Aurors on the front lines, thought for a moment. Although he didn’t understand why Vaughn asked, he slowly nodded. “It does seem like there’s such a phenomenon. More than ten years ago, when I signed the order to lift the ban on Unforgivable Curses, many Aurors performed poorly. Initially, their Unforgivable Curses couldn’t cause as much damage as the Death Eaters’, until the later stages of the war…”
At this point, Old Barty suddenly paused.
Vaughn, who was weaving a Persona Embodiment with white mist spraying from his wand tip, smilingly continued his sentence, “…until the later stages of the war, this phenomenon disappeared, and no one cared about the difference anymore. Because casting spells requires emotional involvement has always been the ‘obvious’ answer in the Wizarding World. Wizards ‘obviously’ believed that the insufficient power of Unforgivable Curses in the early stages was simply because those dark magic novices hadn’t learned to release evil thoughts.”
“No one considered what kind of evil thoughts would cause such a disparity in the power of Unforgivable Curses between Aurors and Death Eaters?”
“Many Aurors must have lost their families back then, right? Would the evil thoughts born from such hatred of losing one’s entire family not be enough?”
“Unfortunately, no one cared about such issues, or rather, dared not to. The ravages of Voldemort and the Death Eaters made research into Dark Arts a taboo, so no one would think that perhaps the insufficient power was simply because… they hadn’t killed anyone yet!”
Hearing these words, Old Barty’s lips quivered. He wanted to refute something but found he could not.
Past experiences told him that Vaughn’s guess was likely correct. He was convinced!
Of course, a guess is just a guess. After hesitating for a moment, Old Barty asked, “What do you plan to do next?”
Although he asked this, he already had the answer in his heart.
Having known Vaughn for nearly a year, he was quite familiar with Vaughn’s habits.
This young man, more like a Muggle scientist than a wizard, would never take an unconfirmed matter as truth. In his view, there were no absolute answers; practice was the only standard.
As expected, upon hearing his question, Vaughn turned back and smiled. “Of course, to verify if killing people exacerbates the appearance of corruption, and if corruption truly amplifies Dark Arts!”
“How…”
Old Barty’s question stopped abruptly. He finally noticed that Vaughn had woven two new Persona Embodiments.
One was clearly for Little Barty.
So, the other one…
Old Barty’s aged face twitched. He looked at Vaughn helplessly. “Don’t tell me the other Persona Embodiment will be placed in my head!”
“Ha!”
Vaughn let out a laugh. “You truly are my close ally, Old Barty. You can always keenly grasp my thoughts… So, do you agree?”
He looked at Vaughn, then at his son a few steps away, who was still being controlled by Vaughn’s magic, struggling violently, but unable to utter a sound.
Old Barty sighed.
Did he really have a choice?
He nodded, but a strong sense of frustration still made him unable to resist a sarcastic remark. “You plan to collect my mental corruption… information? Is that how you put it? You’re not afraid that the information collected this way might not be accurate? For example, the Persona Embodiment is in my Mind World, and I might mislead or confuse it.”
Vaughn, busy weaving, shrugged. “The Persona Embodiment is still being iterated. You can try it. If it’s successful, it will also be convenient for me to upgrade it!”
Old Barty was speechless.
He remained silent for a long time, until Vaughn finished weaving the new Persona Embodiment, inserted one into his son’s head, and re-controlled the raving Little Barty.
The other, under Vaughn’s command, flew to Old Barty’s front.
White mist swirled around the light, veil-like Persona Embodiment. As it had not yet been implanted into Old Barty, its form was unstable, looking like a mass of water vapor.
But Old Barty, who had witnessed its iteration and strengthening over generations, knew best how powerful its invasion and control capabilities were.
He finally asked in resignation, “Who are you going to have me kill?”
Vaughn thought for a moment. “Go kill a dark wizard. Give Fudge something to do!”
…
On July 27th, England’s long-peaceful Wizarding World stirred slightly due to several events.
One of them was the impending birthday of the Chosen One, Harry Potter!
Yes, due to the great achievement of “defeating the Dark Lord,” almost all wizards in the English Wizarding World knew the birthday of the Chosen One, Harry.
Since November 1st, 11 years ago （ October 31st Voldemort was defeated by Harry ）, two unofficial holidays had been born among the wizarding populace.
One was “Victory Day” on November 1st, celebrated for Voldemort’s fall and England’s return to peace. This holiday was relatively larger, with wizards drinking and reveling all night.
The second was July 30th, “The Savior’s Birth.” This one was a bit smaller, with participants limited to Harry’s fervent admirers or those with too much time on their hands.
Of course, no one knew whether the emergence of such holidays was a genuine celebration or if wizards were just finding an excuse to eat and drink.
For at least 11 years, Harry had been completely unaware of such “grand events” in the Wizarding World. His admirers naturally wished for Harry Potter’s personal appearance, but unfortunately, Dumbledore had long since established strict magical blockades around Privet Drive.
Without his permission, no news from the Wizarding World could reach this place.
This served both as protection for Harry and to prevent him from becoming arrogant due to public adulation.
So, while pubs across England stocked their cellars and kitchens for the “festival” in three days, the protagonist of the festival, Mr. Harry Potter, was hiding in the attic, gazing up at the sky, full of anticipation.
He nervously prayed to Jehovah and Merlin.
Praying that his friends would not forget his birthday.
The second matter was the WAC meeting scheduled for the evening of the 29th. The 《Daily Prophet》 had been running special reports on this meeting for a week.
Strictly speaking, it was the first congress held by a non-wizarding organization in magical history, and the first election assembly that would decide the future of a magical creature species, not under wizardly leadership （half of WAC’s seats were for werewolves）.
Prior to this, whether it was the peace treaty after the Goblin Wars or the 《International Statute of Secrecy》, “endorsed” by magical creatures, the leaders were always wizards. Goblins, Centaurs, Werewolves, Giants, and other intelligent magical creatures only had signing rights, not voting rights.
As the assembly approached, discussions on the matter in publications like the 《Daily Prophet》 intensified.
There were supporters and many opponents.
The establishment of the WAC had, for several months, divided public opinion into two diametrically opposed factions.
With the WAC announcing its upcoming congress, public activities in the English Wizarding World and the international magical community saw these disputes escalate.
Supporters and opponents attacked each other in the newspapers.
“…Mr. Philby believes the decadence of the opposition is sickening. The establishment of the WAC holds extraordinary positive significance. It represents the Wizarding World truly entering ‘civilization,’ where the concepts of justice, equality, and democracy are finally truthfully and unfailingly established in this society that has a history of thousands of years…”
On the evening of the 27th, the attic of the Granger residence was warm and pleasant. The recent rare good weather in the London area allowed the setting sun’s rays to stream in from the window on the other side of the attic, casting a golden hue over everything.
Hermione, standing in the path of light from the window, excitedly held up a newspaper and read aloud: “Ms. Sidney also supports the establishment of the WAC. She told me it’s rare progress. She also frankly admitted that she supports the WAC not because she supports werewolves or has any affection for them, but because she sees from the WAC’s establishment that the Wizarding World is awakening from its past rigid and apathetic decaying system. Wizards are beginning to pay attention to marginalized groups… By the way, Ms. Sidney is a Squib living in the Wizarding World!”
Hermione paused here and then exclaimed, “My goodness, she’s so brave!”
Beside her, Vaughn stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his arms spread. Several soft rulers, needles, and a clothes rack floated around him, automatically measuring and trimming.
Hearing Hermione’s admiring words, Vaughn smiled without comment, only asking, “What does the opposition say?”
Hermione pouted. “I don’t like those who oppose you!”
But she still suppressed her personal feelings and found an interview with the opposition in the report, reading: “…Mr. Harrison of the opposition stated that while the establishment of the WAC may indeed have progressive significance, one must be wary that it could become the death knell for the decline of the wizarding community!”
“All of this is because wizards could be born, and we can enjoy peaceful lives today, not because any magical creature voluntarily gave us that, or actively helped us, but because our ancestors, the ancient wizards who walked the wilderness since before Christ, won our space for survival through countless wars—the war between wizards and giants, the war between wizards and fire dragons, the war of the house-elves, the war of the goblins…”
“The prosperity of wizard civilization was built on might and coercion. We drove the giants to harsh mountains, forced the fire dragons to forests and islands, enslaved house-elves, and forced goblins to sign unequal treaties… Are these actions unjust and not righteous?”
“Yes, but wizards had no other choice. Because since the birth of wizards, the world has never given them justice. Giants are over 16 feet tall when mature and possess immense strength; dragon hatchlings can breathe fire at birth; and goblins…”
“And humans? Our children take 11 years to pass through their fragile infancy, and another 7 years to be considered true wizards… Over a long period of 18 years, how far behind those magical creatures are we?”
“Under this inherent injustice, the wizard’s philosophy of survival is only competition, only plunder, only oppression!”
“Only in this way can we maintain our peace. Werewolves are indeed tragic, and I sympathize with them, but based on the above principles, I still believe that the establishment of the WAC and granting werewolves self-determination is a very foolish act.”
“The desires of intelligent beings are insatiable. This is true for humans, for wizards, and for intelligent magical creatures like werewolves. Today we allow them to establish the Werewolf Affairs Committee, and tomorrow they will demand an independent nation, a kingdom.”
“Today we allow werewolf affairs to be self-determined, so what do we do if other magical creatures demand the same treatment?”
