Chapter 67: Night Wandering With Old Dumbledore
It took Vaughn over three hours to sort through all the gifts.
The more meaningful ones were kept, edible gifts needed to be dealt with quickly, and those with signatures required replies.
Fortunately, not many replies were needed; most customer or classmate letters could be automatically duplicated using a spell-enchanted quill with several similar templates.
This greatly reduced his workload.
At noon, Vaughn, Ron, and Harry, carrying a large bag, arrived at Hogwarts’ owlery to send out the letters one by one.
It was already afternoon when they finished.
In the deserted dining hall, only Filch was hanging mistletoe on the wall.
The wreaths, adorned with white berries and green branches, looked exceptionally fresh.
As the three entered, Hagrid came in carrying a Christmas tree.
He greeted them cheerfully, “Harry, Vaughn, Ron, Merry Christmas, children. I really like your gifts.”
Vaughn had given him a tin of beard oil, which he had clearly used that day. His usually messy beard now hung smoothly on his chest, making Hagrid’s rough face suddenly look quite refined.
“Merry Christmas to you too, Hagrid. Do you need any help?”
“No, no, you go ahead and eat!”
There was never a lack of food in the Hogwarts dining hall, as long as the plates remained.
Midway through their meal, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick arrived to decorate the Great Hall.
With the magic of the two, the Great Hall was soon transformed into a dazzling venue, with twelve Christmas trees that Hagrid had worked hard to carry standing in various places.
Their lush green crowns were adorned with candles, sparkling icicles, or lanterns. A sprinkle of snowflakes turned into wind and mist, dancing between the twelve trees. Tiny ice crystals reflected the candlelight, creating a dreamlike, almost animated scene.
Ron and Harry were mesmerized.
After eating, they were still discussing it on the way back.
“I’ve never seen such a grand Christmas banquet, I’m really looking forward to it!”
Ron asked curiously, “Harry, how do Muggles celebrate Christmas?”
“Of course…” Harry, about to answer, paused. He suddenly remembered that he had never actually attended a festive banquet before.
His Christmases had only consisted of a cupboard and a small candle.
Vaughn playfully tapped Ron on the head.
Ron exclaimed indignantly, “Why did you hit me again?”
“Because you’re stupid,” Vaughn rolled his eyes at him.
Fortunately, Harry didn’t stay down for long. Upon returning to Slytherin with Vaughn, he remembered the Invisibility Cloak he had brought. He took it out and handed it to Vaughn, asking for his help to examine it.
“I’m afraid it might hide some dark magic.”
Harry said worriedly.
Vaughn looked at the silver-gray cloak in the box and gently lifted it. It was so light and soft that as soon as it left the box, it draped down like liquid, shimmering like flowing mercury.
“The Deathly Hallows…”
Murmuring its true name softly in his heart, Vaughn’s gaze was filled with curiosity. He unfolded the cloak and put it on. To Harry and Ron’s exclamations, his body immediately disappeared, leaving only his head visible.
After a careful examination, Vaughn frowned slightly.
He didn’t detect any special properties in this Invisibility Cloak, one of the Deathly Hallows.
A moment later, he shook his head and returned it to Harry, “Don’t worry, there’s no problem.”
Harry, who had been frightened several times by Vaughn using the name of a dark-robed figure, was now very cautious: “Can you check it again?”
Vaughn, amused, pointed to the anonymous note in the box:
“That’s Dumbledore’s handwriting, I recognize it. You don’t think he’d harm you, do you?”
Hearing this, Harry immediately relaxed.
Ron quickly urged him to try it on. The two soon became engrossed in playing with the Invisibility Cloak. During their fun, they saw Malfoy passing by outside and secretly tugged at his clothes and hair.
Malfoy, terrified, ran away screaming.
Observing and sensing from the side, and trying a few spells, Vaughn increasingly felt that the Invisibility Cloak did not deserve to be ranked alongside the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand.
Because aside from making one invisible, it had absolutely no other function.
He could even smell the lingonberry jam on Harry and Ron…
The only commendable thing was that the Invisibility Cloak achieved the extreme in simple invisibility. Vaughn had tried several revealing spells, but none had any effect on it.
But this did not mean it was truly related to the so-called “gods.”
Vaughn was not particularly convinced by the claim that collecting all the Deathly Hallows could conquer death. He also agreed with Dumbledore’s future view – the Deathly Hallows were merely alchemical items invented by the Peverell brothers.
The sky quickly darkened. Harry and Ron, who hadn’t had their fill of fun yet, were forcibly dragged back to the Great Hall by Vaughn.
As night fell, all the lanterns were lit, and the Great Hall was a spectacle of splendor.
Lanterns flew around in the air with a whoosh. The ceiling was no longer the usual clear sky and moonlight, but was magically transformed into a display of continuously blooming fireworks.
Not many people stayed for the holidays, and it felt a bit deserted.
But when the fragrant, abundant food appeared on the long tables, the atmosphere in the Great Hall immediately became lively.
Most of the professors were seated. As the banquet began, Snape hurried in.
The moment Vaughn saw him, he couldn’t help but want to laugh.
“Severus, you’re too… Hmm? Oh—” Professor McGonagall looked at Snape’s hair in surprise: “Did you finally use shampoo?”
It was obvious. The Potions Master’s usually greasy, almost matted hair today cascaded down his shoulders like black silk.
Snape’s face was stern. Noticing Vaughn’s amused gaze, he averted his eyes evasively.
After him came Dumbledore. Seeing Old Dumbledore’s attire, Vaughn almost spat out his pumpkin juice, and Ron and Harry nearly choked on their potatoes—
The greatest wizard of the century was wearing a pale pink dressing gown over his robes. The design, which should have been alluring and youthful, clung to his sagging physique.
Professor McGonagall was so shocked that she spilled her wine: “Albus…”
“A child gave it to me. Doesn’t it look great?”
Dumbledore winked at Professor McGonagall.
Then, he paused, reached out, took the wide-brimmed hat adorned with flowers off Professor McGonagall’s head, and put it on his own, before clapping his hands with joy and exclaiming, “Perfect!”
The students below were stunned.
Ron muttered, “It’s over. The Headmaster has completely lost his mind…”
Harry, however, quite liked Dumbledore’s eccentric behavior. After a brief shock, he burst into laughter. Seeing Vaughn’s speechless expression, he asked, “Vaughn, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing…”
Vaughn said with a straight face, “I’m just regretting why I gave him that dressing gown!”
It was a miscalculation.
When a hundred-year-old man is faced with a choice between happiness and dignity, he will surely choose happiness…
Christmas was a day for joy. Although everyone was muttering about the Headmaster’s mental state, given that he had never been entirely normal, a little more eccentricity during the holidays seemed understandable.
The atmosphere brightened again when Fred and George brought in a pile of Quibbler wizard crackers.
The crackers were similar to Muggle fireworks. When ignited, they would burst out with various strange small gifts. Fred and George excitedly picked one up and aimed it at the professors’ table.
A deafening bang, and blue smoke erupted.
Several white mice and a few captain’s hats exploded from the smoke.
No one scolded the twins for their mischief. Dumbledore picked up a captain’s hat and placed it on Professor McGonagall’s head. Professor McGonagall took a sip of wine, her cheeks slightly flushed.
Professor Flitwick happily transformed the white mice into puppets, which then danced passionately around the professors’ table.
Hagrid stroked his smooth beard and chatted quietly with Snape. The usually sharp-tongued and aloof Potions Master even accepted a drink from Hagrid, though he still maintained a cold expression, only speaking occasionally.
Vaughn also set off a cracker, and the tiny white mice that popped out excited Guo Guo Cha immensely, darting around his feet.
Everyone was immersed in happiness. Harry felt as though he had forgotten all his troubles, eating and drinking heartily, laughing with joy.
The banquet lasted for over an hour. As it was getting late, everyone began to leave, returning to their respective houses.
Ron, his stomach full of meat and juice, returned to his dormitory and immediately fell asleep as soon as he touched his bed. Harry, however, was too excited to sleep.
This was his first truly lively Christmas. No longer in a cramped cupboard, he was surrounded by people, had experienced many things, and received many genuine gifts.
Thinking of the gifts, after lying down for a while and feeling more energetic than ever, Harry took out the Invisibility Cloak again.
Moonlight from outside illuminated the scattered note.
The writing, which Vaughn claimed was Dumbledore’s, clearly stated at the end:
Use it well!
Use it well…
Recalling the prank on Malfoy that afternoon, Harry suddenly had an epiphany. He looked down at the cloak in his hands, its feel cold and smooth, seemingly lighter than light, and a thought emerged:
From today on, I will become the King of Night Wandering!
With this thing, he would no longer fear patrolling professors, let alone Filch, and wouldn’t have to worry about running into Madam Pomfrey around a corner.
He could wander freely throughout Hogwarts!
In an instant, his mind conjured images of the mysterious Restricted Section, the unidentified dark-robed figure, and the room on the Fourth Floor that might hold the Philosopher’s Stone…
Harry’s heart pounded like a drum.
…
Leaving the Great Hall, Vaughn had just returned to the Slytherin Common Room when a semi-transparent phoenix Guardian Spirit suddenly appeared and landed on his shoulder.
The Guardian Spirit opened its mouth and spoke in Dumbledore’s cheerful voice: “Vaughn, please come to my office. The password is Sherbet Lemon.”
With that, it vanished.
Vaughn sighed and rubbed Guo Guo Cha’s soft belly, “Alas, you go back and rest. I’ll go see what that old man wants.”
“Meow~”
Guo Guo Cha rolled over, exposing its belly, and used its retracted paw pads to hold his hand, purring playfully—forget the old man, master, let’s keep playing!
Unfortunately, its owner was a heartless scoundrel and carried it back to the dormitory before leaving.
Arriving at the Headmaster’s office on the Eighth Floor, Vaughn found Dumbledore no longer as eccentric as he had been in the Great Hall. He was neatly dressed and was tucking a gnarled wand into his sleeve.
Vaughn glanced at it without lingering. “Why did you call me here? Are you going out?”
“Of course not, Vaughn,” Dumbledore winked. “I just wanted to talk to you about some things, but staying in the office all the time is very bad for an old man’s health. So, my dear, would you accompany me for a stroll through Hogwarts at midnight? I heard you’re quite experienced at night wandering.”
Vaughn vehemently denied it, “Don’t slander me. I’m a good student who follows school rules.”
Dumbledore laughed heartily, took his hand, and whispered a few incantations.
The air thickened for a moment, and a strange power enveloped the two of them. Although the discomfort quickly dissipated, Vaughn still sensed something unusual—
The air and light around them were distorted. A powerful magic concealed their forms, completely isolating them from the outside world.
“This is an ancient magic. I heard from Phileas that he gave you a book about ancient magic. How about it, are you interested in learning?”
Vaughn curiously sensed the magic Dumbledore cast and replied, shrugging, “I don’t know. I haven’t researched ancient magic much yet. Let’s talk about it after I get started!”
After saying that, he maliciously questioned, “Did you tell Professor Flitwick to give me that book?”
Dumbledore shamelessly admitted, “Yes, I told Phileas, ‘Phileas, how can I prevent a child who pursues magic from falling into the mire of Dark Arts?'”
“‘Phileas replied, ‘Albus, let him study ancient magic. It’s powerful and difficult to learn, and I guarantee it will consume his entire life!'”
Old Dumbledore mimicked Professor Flitwick’s sly voice, and Vaughn rolled his eyes.
The old man was testing him again!
At this point, the two had left the Headmaster’s office and were descending the winding stairs. The magic allowed them to be invisible, with neither sound nor scent escaping.
Vaughn let Dumbledore lead him, and with a touch of mischief, retorted, “Albus, instead of always being on guard, shouldn’t you consider whether you can truly prevent a wizard from ever being exposed to Dark Arts?”
“It’s impossible. Not to mention anything else, as long as he patiently waits until graduation, gets good grades, and passes the Auror exam, he can learn the three Unforgivable Curses – Aurors don’t have as many scruples as you.”
This was an obvious fact.
Aurors were the Ministry of Magic’s violent enforcement agency. Their enemies were dark wizards, not dark magic.
Just like during the last wizarding war, Barty Crouch, the then Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had enacted a decree allowing Aurors to use any means, including the Unforgivable Curses, when facing Death Eaters.
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, and Vaughn said no more.
After a long pause, Dumbledore spoke again, “You should know the dangers of Dark Arts…”
Before he could finish, Vaughn interrupted, “Of course, I know. That’s why I’ve never asked you or Professor Snape to teach me Dark Arts, Albus. I’m more cautious than you think. Its corrosive effect on the mind is a problem that needs to be solved, and I won’t touch it until then.”
Dumbledore sometimes knew his actions were irritating.
But one Tom Riddle was enough to make him regret and struggle.
Recalling Vaughn’s analysis and decisions regarding the effects of Wolfsbane Potion, which he had heard from Snape on the way back to Hogwarts, his mood became increasingly complex.
In his eyes now, Vaughn was no longer associated with the image of Voldemort.
This afternoon, as he sat in his office gazing at the falling snow, his memories invariably drifted back to decades ago, to the man he had met in Godric’s Hollow, sworn a blood pact with, and eventually parted ways with.
Vaughn… was very much like that man!
He had ambition, intelligence, and skill, and pursued power and fame.
Thinking of Snape’s retelling of the development of Wolfsbane Potion, Vaughn’s rational and ruthless demeanor when facing Greyback’s cronies, contrasted with his limited sympathy and gentleness towards wandering werewolves.
Such seemingly split personalities illustrated the multifaceted nature of humanity.
Without a doubt, Vaughn Weasley was a complex individual.
Snape had told Dumbledore that Vaughn’s reasoning was sound – Wolfsbane Potion should not be controlled by the Ministry of Magic; werewolves should be encouraged to act and fight for their rights.
But Dumbledore could see that this was merely Vaughn’s sophistry—because there were many practical difficulties in promoting Wolfsbane Potion, forcing Vaughn to choose to publicize the formula. However, at the same time, he did not want any individual or institution to dominate this formula, as it would diminish his halo as the “inventor of Wolfsbane Potion”!
His concern was never about the plight of werewolves, or whether the Ministry of Magic would increase its power.
All of Vaughn’s objectives were for himself!
Just like Gellert Grindelwald…
However, the two were still somewhat different. Dumbledore recalled his trip to the Balkan Peninsula; he should have left Romania long ago and continued his search for Quirrell’s movements in Albania.
But upon hearing that the Weasley family planned to visit Charlie for Christmas, he stayed a while longer.
Arthur and Molly, as usual, had no suspicion of him. When he steered the conversation towards Vaughn, these proud parents began to talk incessantly about their son.
Dumbledore learned many details about Vaughn’s life from them.
What he found interesting was that as a pure-blood wizard who had never lived with Muggles, Vaughn did not discriminate against them.
In Romania, he had the good fortune to taste a dish made by Molly called “Hot Pot.”
A wizard who discriminated against Muggles would not be able to “revive” a dish invented by Muggles, especially since Hot Pot originated from the Far East, thousands of miles from England. As the head of the International Confederation of Wizards, Dumbledore had tasted delicacies from around the world.
Dumbledore glanced at Vaughn walking beside him. The staircase, illuminated only by a few braziers, was dimly lit, the flickering firelight casting his face in alternating shadows, making it as inscrutable as Dumbledore’s perception of Vaughn; he had never truly understood the boy since they met.
It had nothing to do with Legilimency, but rather the mature and complex humanity he possessed.
“Humanity…”
He murmured the word to himself, then suddenly asked, “Vaughn, what are your thoughts on human nature?”
Another test, perhaps…
Vaughn pouted, but after some thought, he replied, “I don’t have any profound insights. In my opinion, a person has both aspects that you can’t imagine for the good and aspects that you can’t imagine for the bad. To borrow a phrase I strongly agree with—human nature is the sum of divinity and bestiality!”
Dumbledore was somewhat moved. “Oh—a very insightful summary. Where did you read that?”
“In a Muggle movie.”
Of course, from his past life!
Dumbledore seemed to like the phrase very much. He murmured it a few more times and sighed, “Many times, I am amazed by the wisdom of Muggles.”
Afterward, he no longer tested Vaughn, nor did he discuss the topic of Wolfsbane Potion. Instead, he began to discuss Muggles with Vaughn.
As the wizard perceived by the outside world to be closest to Muggles, Dumbledore actually knew little about them. Or rather, his goodwill towards Muggles was essentially a protective instinct towards the weak and the less capable.
Vaughn noticed this during their conversation, but he didn’t think Dumbledore’s attitude was problematic. In Vaughn’s view, everyone’s perception of things stemmed from their own experiences.
He himself, due to his past life, was accustomed to viewing problems from a Muggle perspective. Dumbledore was different.
Many years ago, Dumbledore’s sister, Ariana, accidentally revealed her magic to Muggles. As a result, she was tormented and bullied by the fearful Muggles.
Their father, seeking revenge for his daughter, cast evil curses on those Muggles and ultimately died in Azkaban. All of this also caused the young Ariana to begin hating herself. Her inner rejection and fear corrupted her magic, causing it to fall into darkness and become a Maledictus.
Therefore, the Dumbledore of the past once harbored deep animosity towards Muggles. Even though the “power of love” later awakened him, these experiences prevented him from actively seeking to understand Muggles in depth.
Deep-seated issues are difficult to resolve.
Casually deflecting Dumbledore’s various peculiar questions about Muggles, Vaughn initially wondered if Dumbledore had invited him for a midnight stroll just to chat.
It wasn’t until they reached the library on the Second Floor and saw a floating lamp stealthily entering the Restricted Section.
Vaughn, having just used the Invisibility Cloak that afternoon, naturally knew who the invisible person holding the lamp was.
His face darkened. “You’re worried about Harry and followed him secretly, fine. But why drag me along?”
Dumbledore said with amusement, “Don’t you think it’s fun?”
“No, I think it’s a waste of time!”
As they were speaking, Harry, inside the Restricted Section, must have opened a book, and a horrifying scream, unlike any human sound, echoed through the darkness, cast by magic.
Filch came running joyfully, and Harry had no choice but to stumble out of the Restricted Section to escape.
To Vaughn’s exasperation, he saw Dumbledore smiling and, on several occasions, using Transfiguration to trip Harry, “guiding” him to take shortcuts from the second to the fifth floor.
Then, Professor Snape, who was patrolling the castle, “happened” to arrive, and also “happened” to know about the shortcut.
Thus, Harry, cornered by the professor and Filch “unintentionally” in a corridor on the fifth floor, saw a door open beside him and quickly ducked inside.
It was an abandoned classroom, with only a mirror in the center.
The Mirror of Erised!
Watching Harry’s “perilous journey” and “narrow escape” all the way, and then seeing him sigh with relief and begin to explore the mirror, Vaughn said helplessly, “Harry is just foolish. Anyone else would have suspected so many coincidences.”
Dumbledore smiled. “That’s not necessarily true. For example, Ron…”
“…” Vaughn was speechless.
Thirty thousand words of update complete! I’ve been up all night and am on the verge of collapse. The author needs to sleep quickly. Thank you for your subscriptions and support! Thank you! Finally, I shamelessly request a few monthly votes!
