Chapter 74: The White Lord!
“Breaking News: Hundreds of Werewolves Gather in Diagon Alley, Vaughn Weasley’s Investiture Ceremony Plagued by Incidents!”
“Fudge’s Reputation in Ruins, Attacked by the Wizengamot at the Investiture Ceremony!”
“Werewolf Affairs Committee: Is it Truly for the Benefit of Werewolves, or a Power Grab Threatening the Ministry? – The Love-Hate Relationship Between Dumbledore and Fudge!”
“Vaughn Weasley, a child everyone underestimated, kind, wise, and compassionate, is deeply respected by the werewolves. According to interviewed werewolves, Mr. Weasley gave them hope and personally covered their recent living expenses…”
“Vaughn Weasley, a hypocritical, cunning viper disguising himself with a child’s appearance. Look, readers, he has summoned those barbaric werewolves, his ruthless army. The Wolfsbane Potion is not the dawn of the wizarding world, but a poisoned bait for Weasley to achieve his personal ambitions!”
“Dumbledore, is he the benevolent Hogwarts Headmaster, or the White Lord plotting to subvert the Ministry of Magic?”
Late at night, in the Headmaster’s Office, Vaughn chuckled as he read the newspaper.
He poked his head out, looked at Dumbledore on the other side fiddling with a plate of candy, and teased, “Did you see that, Albus? Someone’s calling you the White Lord. This reporter is truly brave.”
Dumbledore’s beard twitched, and he kept a straight face, unwilling to speak.
He was very frustrated. He had agreed to Vaughn’s proposal to establish the ‘Werewolf Affairs Committee’. To minimize resistance, he had agreed to Vaughn’s request to involve the International Confederation of Wizards.
Although he had anticipated some criticism at the time, he hadn’t expected the backlash to be far greater than he imagined.
He had underestimated his influence in the wizarding world as the most powerful wizard of the age; he couldn’t easily dispel it by hiding away at Hogwarts.
For such a great person, people would naturally scrutinize his every move.
At this moment, half a day had passed since the investiture ceremony.
From the moment the werewolves appeared in Diagon Alley, the significance of the investiture ceremony itself had vanished. The Wizengamot had not yet responded to Vaughn’s last-minute proposal, and the ceremony naturally could not continue.
As the wizarding world’s council and highest court, the Wizengamot was both a judicial and legislative body.
Its organization was very loose, but its power was immense, and any decision it made would be met with the cooperation of the entire wizarding world.
This was why Vaughn had insisted on holding the matter during his investiture ceremony; at other times, it was difficult for him to gather so many Wizengamot members. Without the Wizengamot’s support, the ‘Werewolf Affairs Committee’ would never succeed!
However, on the other hand, such great power needed to be constrained by a set of procedures.
Therefore, any decision made by the Wizengamot required the assembly of all its members for discussion and voting, and a result could not be expected immediately.
Dumbledore ate a cockroach cluster, feeling a little better. “Amelia has sent letters to all Wizengamot members, preparing for a full meeting in half a month. You should receive the letter tomorrow; after all, you are now a member of the Wizengamot.”
Vaughn shrugged, “Just an ordinary member.”
“An ordinary member wouldn’t cause such a stir…” Dumbledore rubbed his forehead and asked, “Are those werewolves still in London? What do you plan to do with them?”
“I’ve instructed Remus to take them to Muggle society for a while. Many of them are Muggles or Squibs and have legitimate identities in Muggle society. Once the risk of uncontrolled transformations during a full moon is gone, they can support themselves.”
Speaking of which, Vaughn extended his hand to Dumbledore, “Give me 5000 Galleons!”
Old Dumbledore stared, stunned, “…What?”
“5000! Galleons! Before the Werewolf Affairs Committee is established, I need to prepare enough Wolfsbane Potion for them to get through at least two full moons… Tsk tsk, esteemed White Lord, you’re not expecting me to pay for all of this, are you?”
“…”
After a long moment of being speechless, Dumbledore ultimately couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
Muttering something, he slowly went back to his bedroom and returned with a bag.
Vaughn’s expression remained unchanged as he tucked the bag, which had been charmed to be only palm-sized and weightless, into his satchel. “Don’t be heartbroken. Think about it, you spend all your days at Hogwarts, with free room and board. What use do you have for money? It’s better to use it for something meaningful.”
“…Leave, I’m tired!”
Vaughn didn’t mind, patted his satchel, and bid farewell to Dumbledore.
After the investiture ceremony, various newspapers, due to the appearance of werewolves in Diagon Alley, Fudge’s downfall, and the establishment of the Werewolf Affairs Committee, published urgent special editions, making the topic extremely hot.
This also put him in a very good mood.
His original goal was to make a big deal out of the Wolfsbane Potion and the werewolves, to alleviate the plight of the wandering werewolves and to promote his reputation.
So, he didn’t care whether he was praised or cursed—controversy also brings fame!
The day after tomorrow is January 1992, the settlement day for system Reputation Points. This month’s ‘hype’ at the end of the month will surely bring a significant increase in his Reputation Points!
With faint anticipation, Vaughn decided to rest well for the next two days and conserve his energy.
After Vaughn left, Headmaster Black’s portrait sneered at Dumbledore, “Ignorant old fool, being played like a fiddle by a child, sacrificing your lifelong reputation, and now your money!”
“Do you regret it now? Serves you right! I saw long ago that he was no good. Only you old-fashioned idiots said I led him astray—someone like him, scheming at 12 years old, needed me to lead him?”
Amidst Black’s incessant chatter, Dumbledore stared into space for a moment, then suddenly laughed, “At least he’s doing something meaningful!”
He could tell that Vaughn felt sympathy for those wandering werewolves, perhaps not intense, but it was there—otherwise, Vaughn wouldn’t have offended Fudge. Gaining fame wouldn’t have cost him anything if he had cooperated with Fudge.
Only by feeling sympathy for werewolves would Vaughn push so hard for the ‘Werewolf Affairs Committee’!
Dumbledore felt that his reputation and 5000 Galleons were worth it for this alone.
Headmaster Black became furious and yelled, “Pedantic! Foolish! To be a Headmaster with you fools is the greatest shame of my life—”
Dumbledore let him curse, only saying when he went too far, “Phineas, no matter how much you curse, I won’t let you go. Sirius’s sins are grave, and Azkaban is the most fitting end for him. Do not even think about rescuing him.”
Under Dumbledore’s serious expression, Black’s portrait gradually fell silent, and after a long while, he began to weep:
“That’s the Black family’s last bloodline… The Black family will be extinct, Albus…”
“…Alas, my condolences, Phineas. You are already dead, do not concern yourself with the affairs of your descendants.”
Early morning, Gryffindor Tower.
Harry was woken up by Seamus Finnigan’s scream.
“Merlin—did you see that? Ron, Ron, did you see? Your brother caused such a big incident yesterday!”
Harry fumbled for his glasses and saw Ron leaping up next door.
He shouted angrily, “Seamus! How many times have I told you not to call me Ron! Damn it, I’ll kill Fred and George one day!”
Ron, who was his brother but wasn’t invited to Vaughn’s investiture yesterday, was feeling dejected.
The twins never missed an opportunity to cheer up their younger brother. Yesterday, they deliberately comforted Ron loudly in a crowded place, calling him by his nickname and encouraging him to catch up, saying that the gap between him and Vaughn was small—not much, maybe Bill plus Charlie plus Percy!
Thanks to them, everyone now knew Ron’s nickname. What was worse, Malfoy was present at the time.
He remembered during last night’s dinner, that guy jumping around at the Slytherin table, squeaking in a high-pitched voice, “Ronnie, Ronnie.”
Ron felt so nauseous that he couldn’t eat.
The excited Seamus ignored his protests and slapped a newspaper onto Ron’s face.
Ron irritably snatched the newspaper away. Just as he was about to throw it away, his eyes were drawn to the photograph on it—
Against a dark background, Vaughn stood before a magnificent hall. A fierce wind whipped snow across Diagon Alley, and a group of ragged people stood in the wind and snow, surrounding and crowding him.
They were cheering, their eyes on Vaughn filled with fervor and reverence. Many people in purple robes, who looked like important figures, including Dumbledore and a stern witch, stood solemnly on the periphery of the crowd, as if witnessing a significant moment.
The journalist who took the photo was inspired. While documenting this important scene, he did not forget to include the esteemed Mr. Minister.
The disheveled Fudge and his plump assistant in a pink knitted dress were squeezed into the corner of the photo, looking panicked and helpless.
Looking at Vaughn, surrounded by the crowd and camera flashes in the photo, Ron’s mouth immediately watered.
Damn it!
He looked so glorious…
Harry leaned over from the side and saw the photo, exclaiming, “He looks so imposing…”
Ron retorted stubbornly, “Hmph, it’s just average!”
Although he said that, he still carefully read the newspaper. Below the photo was a shocking headline:
《Wizarding Star Rises, the Ministry is Being Dismantled—!》
The large exclamation marks were a stark, bloody red!
On the other side, the excited Seamus had already grabbed Dean Thomas, who had just woken up groggily, and Neville, who looked utterly bewildered, and was loudly reading the newspaper’s contents:
“…The Wolfsbane Potion is Mr. Vaughn Weasley’s weapon to attack the Ministry. He sharply pointed out the backwardness and flaws in the Ministry’s system. In contrast, Fudge, who held a high position, offered no striking counter-attack throughout the event. He seemed lost in some dream, and even his accusation ‘Weasley, you are tearing apart the Ministry’ sounded weak and hollow…”
“Vaughn is amazing!” Seamus praised loudly. “My uncle always hated that short, fat man, saying he’s the most incompetent Minister for Magic, a lucky man struck by a pie from the sky!”
Hearing Vaughn’s name, Neville, whose head was finally clearing up, felt happy for his friend. Although he didn’t know what had happened, he echoed, “My grandmother doesn’t like him either.”
Soon, their conversation veered off to how Vaughn would deal with Fudge. Only Dean Thomas, who was Muggle-born, was confused.
Harry and Ron ignored them. After quickly finishing the newspaper, they finally understood the entire event of yesterday.
“Vaughn actually recruited werewolves!”
Repeating the sentence for the nth time, they were already in the Great Hall, with delicious breakfast piled high on the Gryffindor table. Ron, who had been hungry all night, was still incredulous as he stuffed pie into his mouth.
Hermione, sitting opposite, her hair messy, buried in the newspaper, said with dissatisfaction, “It’s not recruitment, Vaughn is fighting for their rights!”
What rights were, Ron didn’t understand at all!
Ron, with his boyish dreams, longed for words like “Werewolf Army” and “Armed Forces.” He bragged to Harry, “There might be tens of thousands of werewolves in all of England. If Vaughn recruited them all… Merlin!”
Hermione slammed the table in anger, “Ronald! Good heavens, I can’t believe Vaughn and you are brothers… Your brother is doing something great, and you’re still describing werewolves like animals!”
She paused, then added meticulously, “And there aren’t that many werewolves in England. There’s an interview here with a werewolf wizard named Remus Lupin, who says the total number is around two thousand!”
Ron’s face flushed red from her scolding, and knowing he was in the wrong, he finally stopped talking.
Harry, who had been silently listening to their conversation, didn’t quite understand what Vaughn had done at first. After all, he came from the Muggle world. His impression of werewolves was partly due to Ron’s previous description of Greyback’s brutality, and partly from what he had just seen in the newspaper: the hardship of wandering werewolves exiling themselves to the wilderness to avoid harming others.
It was only now that he understood the wisdom of Vaughn’s words in the newspaper: prejudice is a poison in people’s hearts!
Ron instinctively treated werewolves like animals. Harry couldn’t imagine what kind of image werewolves had in other wizarding families, in the adults who influenced the children.
This made Harry suddenly understand the significance of what Vaughn was doing.
Throughout breakfast, Harry appeared thoughtful. He flipped through the newspaper several times, and finally folded it up and tucked it into his chest.
Seeing this, Ron couldn’t help but say sourly, “Harry, you’ve become Vaughn’s little fan too? Are you going to cut out his pictures and stick them above your bed like those little girls?”
“…Shut up!”
Harry, embarrassed, prepared to leave.
“Wait, are you still going tonight…” Ron grabbed him, instinctively looked around, then lowered his voice, “To see that mirror? Take me with you!”
Harry looked at him doubtfully, “Don’t you want to see it anymore?”
He had taken Ron to see that mirror a few days ago. Ron thought it was a bit strange, that it could see through people’s hearts. Because that day, Ron had seen himself becoming a Prefect in the mirror, with everyone in his family applauding him proudly—
Harry realized, “Ron, you…”
Ron stammered, “I want to see it again… just as, just as a sweet dream, right?”
Harry suddenly worried about his good friend. He had seen similar cases on Muggle television, where some people gradually became psychologically disturbed due to long-term repression and jealousy.
He thought about it for a moment and agreed.
…………………………
“Disappear! （Evanesco）!”
With the incantation, a mouse that had been sniffing around the table suddenly vanished.
The gentle winter light of the Black Lake illuminated the dormitory, making it seem to merge with the underwater scenery outside the window. In the center of the room, Vaughn lightly held his wand, his eyes closed, sensing.
In his perception, a obscure spell’s power was wrapping countless fine “dusts” scattered in the air of the room.
They were so tiny that they were completely invisible to the naked eye. If the spell had not been cast by him, and if it did not have a magical and mystical connection to him, he would not have been able to sense it.
The term “tiny” referred to the feedback he received from his senses; they seemed capable of penetrating the pores between every molecule, whether in the air, on the table, or on the bedsheets. No macroscopic object could stop them.
They were evenly distributed throughout the dormitory, with only a trace of the Vanishing Spell’s residual power maintaining their fragile presence.
Awaiting a counter-spell or the dissolution of the spell.
However, this power was so weak that it only required a slight interference at the magical level—
Vaughn lightly drew an arc with his wand, releasing a meaningless burst of magic power, which rippled invisibly in the air.
But in Vaughn’s perception, at the microscopic level, it was like a raging storm.
The residual power of the Vanishing Spell churned and shattered in the magical tempest. The “micro-dusts” it twisted and projected in his perception, like stars obscured by dark clouds, extinguished one by one after the ripple.
Vaughn opened his eyes, looked at the spot where the mouse had disappeared, and cast the counter-spell to the Vanishing Spell there.
But nothing happened.
The residual power of the spell had been destroyed. Without its protection, the mouse had already decomposed into the most basic units of matter, becoming a part of the ocean of particles.
Just as Professor McGonagall had said, it had turned into the essence of all things!
“A terrifying spell…”
Vaughn’s expression was somewhat solemn. He tried several other dispelling and revealing spells, confirming that the mouse had completely vanished and could no longer be restored.
He couldn’t help but think of a certain ability he had seen in anime in his previous life, Dust Release—a powerful ability that decomposed matter into an atomic state.
The effect of the Vanishing Spell was very similar.
This was what interested Vaughn about the Vanishing Spell.
Vaughn liked to live a planned life. The incident with the Wolfsbane Potion was over, and before the Werewolf Affairs Committee was established and began operating, he didn’t plan to develop any new potions for the time being.
The base increase in Reputation Points couldn’t be achieved by blindly accumulating fame.
He had tested this two years ago.
When he published the Magic Power Extraction Method thesis in 《Extraordinary Potions》, which attracted a crowd of Potioneers, he was testing the system’s definition of “Reputation.”
He speculated that the Reputation required by the system was similar to a driving force in this world—emotion. Emotion in this world could also be considered a form of power, even if it wasn’t quantifiable or visible.
Reputation might be the emotional feedback others had when they heard or thought of his name. This feedback could be joy, admiration, or disgust, hatred.
This was the conclusion Vaughn reached after transforming into a great ranter for a period, sending letters to hundreds of Potioneers and engaging in heated debates with them.
In the second month after the test, his monthly Reputation Points increased by 1 point.
However, Vaughn also discovered at that time that this emotional feedback was not without limits. Because when he tested again later, expanding the scope of the “victims” who were sprayed to the wizarding worlds of France and other countries, the result was that they did not increase his Reputation Points by another point.
Vaughn was unclear about the specific principles behind this. He speculated that the spread and growth of Reputation might involve more hidden aspects related to the world’s mystical system.
It had a threshold limit, much like dropping a stone into a lake; the ripples caused by the stone shook the water plants, and the shaking of the water plants was the feedback given by the affected objects.
But eventually, this ripple would dissipate invisibly, and the place where the wave finally disappeared would be the threshold limit it could affect.
From that moment on, Vaughn began to pay attention to one of the most unpredictable forces in this world—destiny!
Vaughn believed that the reason those foreign Potioneers couldn’t give him Reputation Points was likely due to the real-world national boundaries, which prevented him from forming a destined connection with them.
In practical terms, his influence could not extend beyond England, and he could not interfere with the lives of those Potioneers. Therefore, even if they disliked him or hated him, it couldn’t be reflected in the system’s settlement.
Perhaps only a connection of destiny could explain this phenomenon.
Vaughn’s choice of the Wolfsbane Potion as his trump card for advancing to Potions Master this time was still a test.
The Wolfsbane Potion itself could not cause a sensation. Only through his hype could it affect the destinies of many people, and it even had a good chance of crossing borders and influencing more people.
However, precisely because this plan was too intense and eye-catching, Vaughn felt that any achievements he made in potions recently might be overshadowed by the emotional feedback from the “Wolfsbane Potion incident.”
Therefore, he decided to temporarily put aside potions and focus on improving his own strength.
Tomorrow was the day for Reputation Point settlement.
After waking up this morning, Vaughn began to review the spells he knew, preparing to select some to practice and study in depth in the coming days with the Reputation Points.
“Protego Totalum” and “Expelliarmus” were definitely going to be further studied.
He had not slacked on these two spells since learning them years ago. “Protego Totalum,” needless to say, was the only defensive means for wizards, capable of blocking most spells except for some powerful Dark Arts.
“Expelliarmus” was a very effective offensive spell, as most people couldn’t do without their wands, except for a few powerful wizards.
Disarming a wizard of his wand rendered most of his abilities useless.
With these two spells confirmed, Vaughn found himself in a dilemma when choosing other directions; he wanted to diversify his offensive and defensive capabilities.
Defensively, he could continue to study Transfiguration as a supplement to “Protego Totalum.”
But offensively, he was at a loss for what to choose for a while.
Currently, he had two directions: one was to study Legilimency and other memory-related spells, using memory as an offensive, harassing, and restraining method against enemies, to supplement “Expelliarmus,” “Stunning Spell,” and so on.
The other direction was to strive to master a powerful spell that enemies couldn’t resist.
The Vanishing Spell entered his sight in this way.
“Tsk, I never realized I had a bit of a choice paralysis…”
Vaughn rubbed his chin, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the open System Panel, unable to decide for a moment.
Both options had their pros and cons.
Once memory magic was studied to a certain extent, if it could be cast silently and without a wand, it would be the prime choice for ambushing enemies. The downside was its lack of powerful destructive force and susceptibility to skilled Legilimens; against Voldemort, it would likely be useless.
The Vanishing Spell was powerful enough, but it was an extension of Transfiguration and its original intent was not destruction. It had a counter-spell and was also countered by Transfiguration. After Vaughn’s test, living things that vanished still retained memory and thought capabilities. If they encountered a Transfiguration master like Dumbledore, he could restore them himself.
Caught in his predicament, Vaughn’s mood was very bad. So when he was about to go to the Great Hall for dinner and saw the Prefect in the Common Room, he threw a Stunning Spell.
The Prefect couldn’t even react before his eyes rolled back, and he fell off the sofa.
The little Slytherins were struck dumb. Malfoy buried his face in the sofa cushion, trembling like an ostrich.
All of this left Vaughn feeling listless. He could only bully these weaklings. When would he be able to punch Voldemort and kick Dumbledore?
Selwyn, who had been taken down by his Expelliarmus, and Lupin, who had been pushed out the door by a silent, wandless Evanesco, felt they had something to say…
