Chapter 68: Newspaper Interview And Opportunity
The Mirror of Erised shows a person their heart’s deepest desire.
In the mirror, Harry saw a family he had never met: his father, his mother, and others with eyes and hair like his, smiling at him.
Harry ran his hand over the mirror’s surface dreamily, as if wanting to embrace the family within.
From a corner, Dumbledore, who had been observing all this invisibly, wiped his eyes and sobbed, “How touching, Vaughn, did you see? This poor child…”
Vaughn sneered mockingly, “Because he’s never known family, and some old man dumped him with the Dursleys without even leaving a photograph!”
Dumbledore pretended not to hear, still weeping emotionally. Only when Harry remained by the mirror, seemingly unwilling to leave, did he raise a hand towards the door. With a masterful Transfiguration, he made the floorboards leap up and mimic footsteps, finally startling Harry away, who was worried about being caught by the professor.
Vaughn shook his head, “Tsk, stirring up someone’s desires but not letting them see their fill at once, you are truly cruel!”
Dumbledore smiled slyly, “My dear Vaughn, didn’t you say before that everything seen in the Mirror of Erised is an illusion, and there’s no good in indulging in it?”
“That’s for you and me, but it doesn’t apply to a child who has never felt ‘love’.”
Dumbledore ignored Vaughn’s sarcasm and listened to Harry’s footsteps hurry away, growing fainter. He then dispelled his Disillusionment charm, sighed, “Yes, love. Harry craves love. Vaughn, as Harry’s friend, I think you should…”
“Don’t. You can raise your ‘Boy Who Lived,’ I have no interest. While I agreed to help you as part of our deal, it doesn’t mean I’ll be acting alongside Harry. I have many things to do and not much time to waste!”
After another failed attempt, Dumbledore didn’t seem bothered and led Vaughn to the Mirror of Erised.
The mirror reflected neither of their desires!
The two looked at each other in the mirror, eyes wide.
“Vaughn, you’re really not going to take a look?”
“I’m not. Why aren’t you?”
“I already have. It was spectacular.”
“Hmph, last time you said you saw a lot of woolen socks, and now you say it was spectacular? I knew you were lying to me!”
“This time I promise I’m not lying, Vaughn, just take a look…”
As they were in a stalemate, the classroom door opened, and Snape glided in like a swooping bat.
He walked between them, and the Mirror of Erised remained utterly still.
This was, of course, not because it was broken.
If the Mirror of Erised could speak, it would have already cursed them out. How could it possibly encounter three Masters of Occlumency on the same night!
Snape’s vacant eyes gazed into his own reflection. He replied to Dumbledore in a dry voice, “Potter has returned to Gryffindor and shouldn’t be out again tonight. Quirrell has also shown no unusual activity.”
With that, he nodded at Vaughn, “Vaughn.”
Vaughn greeted him back, “Professor!”
Then, the three fell silent before the mirror. Vaughn and Dumbledore exchanged glances, and then both looked at Snape.
The intense stares made it almost impossible for Snape to maintain his composure.
Dumbledore said with a smile, “Severus, would you like to try the mirror? Vaughn said if you dare to look, he will.”
Vaughn also smiled, “Professor, the Headmaster also said if you dare to look, he will. Don’t you want to know what he thinks about all day?”
Snape: “…Childish!”
Despite saying so, Snape did not avert his gaze.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror, seemingly yearning for something.
The one-large-and-one-small ‘foxes,’ who had intended to joke around, exchanged thoughtful glances. Dumbledore suddenly looked as if he had a revelation: “Oh—Vaughn, I just remembered, we haven’t properly discussed the Wolfsbane Potion and the political considerations yet. Shall we find somewhere to talk?”
“Alright, Professor. Would you like to join… oh, you might not understand. Please wait a moment then!”
“My dear boy, how can you say that? Severus has simply been at the school too long to grasp complex matters.”
“Apologies, Albus. I’ve always been quite direct. You know, I’m a straightforward and honest person!”
Snape’s face twitched. His dark eyes glared at the two mischievous fellows. Only after they had left and their footsteps had faded did he look back at the Mirror of Erised.
At one moment, his own numb face in the mirror suddenly vanished.
And a beautiful face with emerald green eyes quietly appeared. Snape’s withered hand uncontrollably reached out to touch it, only to retract as he drew near.
Outside the door, Vaughn and Dumbledore, once again magically hidden, leaned against the wall, listening to the sobs that gradually turned into muffled, heart-wrenching groans from within the room, as if someone was desperately suppressing their pain and sadness…
Listening to the sound, the two, uncharacteristically, no longer felt like probing each other or making sarcastic remarks.
They simply listened quietly.
After a long time, Dumbledore raised his hand, using Transfiguration to mimic his and Vaughn’s footsteps, gradually approaching from the other end of the corridor, accompanied by muffled, low arguments.
When the simulated footsteps neared the door, Dumbledore dispelled his Disillusionment charm.
Vaughn, in perfect sync, opened his mouth and pretended to be angry, complaining about him being a “weak old man” as he walked into the classroom.
To Snape, who had recomposed himself, the two seemed to be arguing intensely. They didn’t even look at him, but glared at each other sternly.
Suddenly feeling very tired, Snape, not wanting to deal with their conflict, nodded at them and walked away without a word.
Dumbledore tiptoed, peeking cautiously, and only after confirming Snape had truly left did he sigh, “Love, it can turn a vicious Death Eater into the most vulnerable child…”
Vaughn, uncharacteristically, did not retort.
In his heart, Snape’s love for Lily was pure. He didn’t want to make any comments about such pure emotion.
To his surprise, Dumbledore, who had been deceiving him earlier, stood before the mirror, pondered for a moment, and then suddenly waved him over: “Come, Vaughn, take a look at mine.”
Seeing Vaughn frown, he smiled, “Don’t worry, I won’t force you to break your Occlumency. I just want you to see what an old man is thinking about.”
Vaughn remained silent but walked over and looked into the mirror as Ariana, Aberforth, Gellert Grindelwald, who appeared next, were seen with arms slung around each other, laughing happily…
The moment they appeared, the old man, who seemed to stand tall forever, suddenly slumped his shoulders.
He stared at them dreamily, at their camaraderie and harmony, lost in the moment, unable to extricate himself!
Muddled tears streamed down his face.
Dumbledore’s voice trembled, “Vaughn… life has no turning back. Once a mistake is made, no amount of regret afterwards can undo it… Promise me, never let your beastly nature overpower your humanity, alright?”
Vaughn said nothing, and Dumbledore didn’t seem to expect an answer.
He pulled a piece of parchment from his sleeve, “Organize your thesis and recipes, and send them to this address. I’ve spoken with some old friends, and tomorrow, the newspapers will start building your reputation!”
“Go back, child, and let me be alone for a while…”
Vaughn wanted to say something, but ultimately didn’t. It took immense courage for adults to open up, and in that regard, he admired Dumbledore.
At least he couldn’t do it, nor did he wish to.
He left silently, and when he finally looked back…
Dumbledore sat on the ground, leaning against the mirror, murmuring something softly…
On Christmas night, Vaughn hastily penned a thesis and organized his Wolfsbane Potion recipe, sending it to the address Dumbledore had given him.
For the remaining time, he suffered from insomnia, unsure of what he was thinking. His mind was in a strange state: on one hand, the almost entirely rational shell of thought brought by Occlumency, and on the other, the chaotic mess of memories within that shell.
It wasn’t until dawn, when the sky in the distance began to lighten to a fish-belly white, that he managed to fall asleep.
Under the same sky, Rita Skeeter woke up early. After arriving at Diagon Alley via the Floo Network, she didn’t go directly to the 《Daily Prophet》 newspaper office to report.
Instead, she wandered around the entire street for a while. The morning after Christmas was deserted, but the scattered remnants of confetti and various discarded items in front of the shops testified to how lively the previous night had been.
Peace…
Damnable peace!
Rita Skeeter was very dissatisfied with the current tranquility of the wizarding world. She was a journalist, and almost devoid of integrity. She only liked big news, not reporting every day about some wizard casting Densaugeo on his noisy Muggle neighbor!
Or a few drunk wizards performing a disappearing act in a Muggle square, resulting in a splitting accident during Apparition, terrifying a crowd of Muggles with the bloody scene.
“It’s time to cook up some news!”
Rita told herself.
But who should she choose as her target?
Currently, there was almost no one of sufficient importance in the wizarding world to fabricate stories about—at least, the subject of fabrication needed to be famous to attract readers.
Harry Potter was famous, but what could be written about a brat who stayed in school all day?
Dumbledore?
Hmm…
Rita mused as she arrived at the newspaper office. As a newspaper with the best sales, not just in the English wizarding world but globally, the office operated almost 24 hours a day for the sake of timely news.
News gathering, editing, planning, distribution to branches, printing, publishing…
All sorts of tasks were carried out in this small building.
Wizards, young and old, bustled about like tightly wound clockwork.
However, today seemed even busier. Every wizard who passed by seemed to wish they could fly on a broomstick.
Rita looked at the wizards rushing past her, puzzled. Just as she was about to find someone to ask, a familiar editor saw her and quickly waved her over:
“Rita, you’re here just in time! There’s big news. The Editor-in-Chief will surely call a meeting soon to discuss interview arrangements.”
“What big news?”
“You haven’t read the paper yet? Oh, sorry, the paper was just published…” The editor patted his head and quickly pulled out a sample copy he had kept, placing it in front of Rita Skeeter.
Rita’s eyes were immediately drawn to the front-page headline, with its large, bold lettering:
《Wolfsbane Potion: The Dawn of the Wizarding World, or the Werewolf’s Demise?》
The accompanying image was of a wolf howling at the moon!
Rita Skeeter quickly read on. The opening author answered her questions:
“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to excitedly state that today, December 26, 1991, is a date that will undoubtedly be recorded in the annals of 《Modern Magical History》! For those wizards whose families were ruined by werewolves, for those wizards who feared werewolves and dared not vacation in the countryside, for those… today, you can rejoice!”
“The Werewolf Virus has been conquered!”
“At the same time, we can proudly announce the birth of another Potions Master—the inventor of Wolfsbane Potion, the inventor of the Vaughn’s Beauty series of potions, the Potions Prodigy, Vaughn Weasley!”
In a cave in a distant mountain range, young Barnaby stood on a rock at the cave’s entrance, holding up a newspaper delivered by owl.
The bright daylight outside cast the silhouette of his figure onto the pair of cloudy, tired eyes within the cave.
Young Barnaby, his eyes filled with tears, read aloud:
“…As of this early morning, the Extraordinary Potioneers Association urgently convened its members to discuss the recipe submitted by Mr. Vaughn Weasley. Subsequently, under the personal inquiry of the Minister of Magic’s Office, the Extraordinary Potioneers Association announced that the Wolfsbane Potion recipe is effective!”
“As of the publication of this report, the Ministry of Magic has decided to form an inter-departmental joint investigation team and has invited several renowned potioneers to conduct a final review of Mr. Vaughn Weasley’s ‘Wolfsbane Potion’.”
“Ms. Artemisia from the Minister’s Office optimistically informed this reporter that final reviews are usually just for caution. A recipe reaching this stage is basically confirmed to be genuinely effective…”
“Ms. Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, stated in an interview via Floo Network （remote Floo call） that Mr. Vaughn Weasley’s contribution is extremely outstanding. She will submit a report to the Wizengamot, requesting the convening of the Order of Merlin to discuss the matter of awarding Mr. Vaughn Weasley the Order of Merlin…”
“…I was fortunate enough to read the original thesis submitted by Mr. Vaughn Weasley to the Extraordinary Potioneers Association and the Ministry of Magic. At the end of his letter, Mr. Weasley passionately appealed: Dear Association members, dear Ministry officials, please select a suitable occasion. At that time, I will announce the free public release of the Wolfsbane Potion recipe and discuss with the Association and the Ministry how to help those in need of this potion!”
“As per my original intention, I developed it not for Galleons, but for those wandering werewolves hiding in the mountains, who are also victims of the werewolf virus.”
“The sins committed by Greyback and his lackeys should not be borne by the innocent!”
Young Barnaby read aloud, his voice hoarse and choked, but no one cared. The eyes in the cave simply listened to the contents of the newspaper.
Light gradually began to flicker in those eyes, and the commotion grew. Finally, someone couldn’t help but emerge from the cave.
“Barnaby, is what you’re saying true?”
Barnaby shook the newspaper, “The report is right here, front-page headline. Would the 《Daily Prophet》 lie to us? And what do we have that’s worth lying about?”
The person continued to ask, “Then why did you call us here? Who do you work for?”
“Of course, for Mr. Weasley!” young Barnaby said loudly, his eyes sparkling. “Sir knows we have no money and can’t afford the potions. Did you see the end of the report? Sir wants to make Wolfsbane Potion free, but that’s not easy, so he needs our help!”
The disheveled werewolf hesitated. He was Muggle-born, but an elite before his infection.
He knew there were complications involved.
But when he looked back and saw the eyes in the dark cave beginning to glimmer again, he choked up. After a moment, he shook his head fiercely and asked loudly, “How can we help him?”
Young Barnaby replied with conviction:
“Gather werewolves, as many as possible. We’ll go to Diagon Alley, we’ll go to the Ministry of Magic, and let those wizards see how many werewolves there are!”
At the 《Daily Prophet》 newspaper office, the small conference room was filled with smoke.
Rita Skeeter, dressed flamboyantly, sat at the conference table and impatiently waved away the steam puffing from an old wizard’s ear next to her.
At the head of the table, Mr. Barnaby Cuffe, the Editor-in-Chief, smoothed his thinning hair, distributed the documents in his hand to everyone, and said,
“Vaughn Weasley, born March 1, 1980, less than 12 years old. Gentlemen, I…”
Seeing Rita raise a hand as thick as a carrot to signal, he paused and continued, “Alright, and ladies, I think everyone knows what this age represents—it represents news! Topics! And eyeballs!”
“How did a child under 12 achieve his current accomplishments? How did he develop Wolfsbane Potion? These are questions readers are curious about. There has never been such a young Potions Master before, and I doubt there will be again. Fortunately, some important figures have designated us to interview him. We must seize this opportunity…”
Rita Skeeter didn’t listen to the subsequent motivational nonsense. Her attention was entirely focused on the information inadvertently revealed by the Editor-in-Chief.
She jotted down “12 years old,” “Potions Master,” and “important figures” on a piece of parchment, heavily underlining the last line.
Rita, outwardly calm, was now extremely excited.
Not because of the birth of a brand-new Potions Master, but because of “a 12-year-old Potions Master” and “important figures”!
Her mind began to concoct a dark, ugly, and fraudulent story of academic deception. A child from a pure-blood family, pushed to the forefront by the power behind him. How many compromises and dark dealings were hidden within this?
Just thinking about it made Rita tremble with excitement.
As for whether it was true… she didn’t care. As long as it attracted attention, wasn’t that enough?
Therefore, when Mr. Barnaby Cuffe asked who was willing to go to Hogwarts for an interview, Rita Skeeter immediately raised her hand.
“Alright, Rita, it’s yours. You’ll leave this afternoon with people from the Ministry of Magic.”
“Ministry of Magic?”
“Yes, the joint investigation team. It’s just a formality. I’ll give you the travel pass later.”
Rita narrowed her eyes slightly.
Her eyes gleamed with the greed of a hunter who had spotted their prey.
…
Ron slept until dawn. When he woke up feeling refreshed, he was startled by the dark circles under Harry’s eyes.
He mumbled, “How did you end up like this again?”
Despite his terrible condition, Harry was mentally exhilarated. He quietly recounted his experience from the previous night.
Ron’s groggy mind immediately cleared. He grumbled, “Damn it, why didn’t you wake me up for something so fun!”
“You can come tonight. I’m going again anyway, to see my mother and father and family.”
Harry said with a hint of boastfulness.
He had always envied the Weasleys for having such a large family, even though Ron always spoke of his family with embarrassment and distress.
Ron was also happy for Harry.
Just as the two were planning what time to go that night, the twins burst in.
Harry and Ron thought the twins had overheard their conversation and were troubled about how to keep the mischievous duo quiet, but the twins had already shouted, waving the newspaper in their hands, “Ronnie, look, look! The Weasley family has a Potions Master!”
“And a savior of werewolves, Fred.”
“That’s right, George. The dawn of the wizarding world, written into history!”
“This news must be known to everyone.”
“Yes, we ordered 100 copies of the newspaper!”
They threw the copy they were holding to Harry and Ron and ran off cheering, their shouts of “The Weasley family’s Potions Master” still audible from afar.
Ron, somewhat dazed, subconsciously calculated the cost of ordering 100 copies of the 《Daily Prophet》 at five Sickles each. The wealthy Harry had already picked up the newspaper.
After a quick scan, Harry, a novice in the wizarding world, asked in confusion, “Wolfsbane Potion? Werewolves?”
Ron’s eyes widened in apparent horror, “You don’t know? The most terrifying monsters in the wizarding world. If you encounter a troll, it’ll at most smash your skull, but if you meet a werewolf… even a light scratch can infect you and turn you into the same monster, forcing you to hide in the wilderness forever.”
Ever since “helping” Vaughn kill a troll, trolls had become Ron’s unit of measurement for monsters.
Harry felt he didn’t want to encounter either trolls or werewolves.
But with Ron’s “explanation,” Harry finally understood the meaning of the newspaper’s contents: “So, Wolfsbane Potion can cure werewolves?”
Ron, still reading the report carefully, shook his head, “It says here it can only keep werewolves conscious during transformations for now. Vaughn… Vaughn is still developing it further…”
The tips of his ears turned slightly red with excitement.
Seeing the frequent address of “Esteemed Mr. Weasley,” he felt inexplicably proud.
“That’s wonderful! It’s the first time I think Vaughn isn’t so detestable. Someone should have solved the werewolf problem long ago. My mother used to scare me with Greyback when I was little, and for a while, I was too afraid to go to the bathroom at night!”
“…” Harry felt like he had discovered something dreadful.
Not daring to go to the bathroom at night, that meant…
He quickly shook his head, afraid to think further, and could no longer look directly at Ron. He said,
“I’ve told you before, Vaughn is a good person. Look at the back, he even wants to make Wolfsbane Potion free, to help more werewolves!”
Ron mumbled, not speaking ill of his brother anymore.
When the two left the dormitory and entered the Dining Hall, they discovered that the news had already spread throughout Hogwarts by the twins.
Fred and George, who had ordered 100 copies of the newspaper, distributed them for free to all the students staying at school, and the remaining ones were sent to some acquaintances via owl.
They saw that almost all the remaining students at school were gathered around the Slytherin table, asking Vaughn various questions. The twins held up fireworks they hadn’t used yesterday, acting as atmosphere enhancers in the crowd. Percy put an arm around Vaughn’s shoulder and said to everyone:
“Vaughn has always been exceptional in Potions since he was little. And I, his brother, discovered this very early on. I lent him my textbooks… Worried? Never. I supported all his experiments. You can’t imagine whose cauldron he used to brew his first potion!”
Percy said enigmatically, puffing out his chest, the ‘P’ badge on his chest gleaming.
Standing outside the crowd, Ron said to Harry with a sneer, “Don’t listen to Percy’s nonsense. Vaughn used his cauldron that day, and he yelled so much he almost broke a hole in the floor.”
As he spoke, he couldn’t help but badmouth Vaughn again, “I’ve always thought Vaughn did it on purpose. When he was first practicing Potions, he never used Charlie’s cauldron. He had a better relationship with Charlie than with Percy.”
There will be another chapter during the day!
