Chapter 47: Black Robed Man
He cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself again.
The System Panel quietly popped up before his eyes and quickly vanished, but it was enough for him to notice the changes in the information it revealed.
【 Disillusionment Charm proficiency increased 】
【 Disillusionment Charm LV1 （1/4 ）】
Two months into his schooling, Vaughn had never slacked off in practicing spells.
Of course, his main focus was still on Potions.
So for these two months, he primarily focused on mastering a limited number of spells.
Among them, the basic spell Full Body-Bind Curse rose to LV4 (0/16), and the Disarming Charm rose to LV3 (2/8). The advanced spells he learned from Snape a month ago, namely Shattering Curse, Disillusionment Charm, and Sectumsempra, were his primary focus.
About a week ago, all three had successively risen to LV1, marking a successful initiation, allowing him to use them relatively smoothly.
After that, Vaughn didn’t practice them much more.
He only maintained a certain training volume daily, because further increasing proficiency would require a lot of time.
Especially Sectumsempra.
Although it was a Dark Arts spell developed by Snape during his school days, it was a quite complex and profound spell.
Vaughn suspected that Snape had utilized some family knowledge of Dark Arts at the time.
In comparison, the Disillusionment Charm was much simpler. After all, it was a standard spell, and with Vaughn’s talent for spells, it was enough to support him in mastering it quickly.
While feeling the subtle changes as he cast the Disillusionment Charm, Vaughn tried to tread lightly as he moved through the stairs and corridors.
Hogwarts at this hour was empty and desolate; any sound would be amplified by the intricate, deep corridors.
Vaughn gently tapped his wand by his ear, enabling it to receive more sound sources.
This was a gain from his frequent visits to the library over the past two months—perhaps somewhere in a book, a seemingly obscure little spell was hidden.
They were usually not very powerful, and some were more like pranks.
For example, the Sending Charm Vaughn had previously cast on himself and Ron, and the Ear-Extending Charm he was using now. They were recorded on a yellowed piece of parchment, which bore the title:
10 Exam Cheating Spells.
Below the parchment was a line of calligraphy: Thank you for your hard work in compiling this, Mr. Maclaggan. I will instruct Professor McGonagall to add them to the anti-cheating spell list. Your loyal, Professor of Transfiguration, Albus Dumbledore.
Poor Mr. Maclaggan. While mourning for the predecessor from decades ago, Vaughn was finding a new use for the predecessor’s legacy. He tilted his ear to listen and soon detected a series of hurried footsteps.
They passed overhead, heading straight for the third floor, and then the fourth.
Vaughn quickened his pace, but as he reached the third floor, he suddenly stopped in surprise—
He heard new sounds, two teeth chattering, extremely faint whispers, hiding in the Charms classroom on the fourth floor, almost brushing past Quirrell’s hurried footsteps.
“Harry… what’s wrong with you…”
“Pain… my head hurts so much…”
It was Harry and Hermione!
Time rewound to five minutes earlier. Harry and Hermione were preparing to find Vaughn and Ron, who didn’t have the troll news.
It went smoothly at first; they successfully evaded Percy and didn’t attract anyone’s attention, managing to slip away from the group.
But soon, the two became confused. No one knew where Vaughn had taken Ron. They wandered aimlessly from the second to the third floor. Once their initial impulsive drive was gone, a rational Hermione began to persuade Harry to go back.
“Tell Percy, and let Percy ask the professors for help. It’s better than us running around like this,” she whispered to Harry, squatting at the top of the fourth-floor stairs.
Harry hesitated. He knew Hermione was right, of course.
But for some reason, his mind was very chaotic. His thoughts kept uncontrollably thinking, “Just one more floor!”
“Just one more floor!”
“Let’s check the fourth floor!”
Those thoughts came very strangely, popping out suddenly.
It was as if from the depths of his consciousness, a thought told him that going to the fourth floor would surely yield something.
He even felt a sense of excitement, anticipation, and the joy of nearing success.
That emotion was so strong, he could barely resist it!
“Let’s go up one more floor!” Harry persuaded. “Let’s check the fourth floor. If not, we’ll go find the professors.”
Hermione reluctantly agreed.
To Harry’s disappointment, upon reaching the fourth floor, they searched for a while and found nothing. Just as he was suppressing the increasingly strong thoughts in his head and preparing to return with Hermione.
A set of footsteps approached from the stairs!
In the dim light, they exchanged a glance. No matter who it was, Percy or a professor, they couldn’t be seen, or Gryffindor would lose points again.
Hermione noticed the Charms classroom and immediately pulled Harry into it.
They huddled behind the door, peeking through the slightly ajar gap.
They saw a blurry shadow in the dim corridor, its long robe pulled over its head, walking quickly past.
Who was that?
Although the dim light and narrow field of vision made it difficult for them to distinguish.
But with the students already back in their dormitory rooms and the professors searching the dungeons for the troll,
who would be on the fourth floor? And why?
Harry thought of the end of the fourth-floor corridor, the room with the three-headed dog Fluffy and the trapdoor, which likely hid the Philosopher’s Stone.
He glanced at Hermione, who seemed to have thought of it too, covering her mouth in shock.
Harry wanted to see the person clearly.
Ignoring Hermione’s repeated headshakes, he gently pushed the door open and peeked out.
The shadowy figure in the robe had already reached the middle of the corridor. Harry could only see its back.
But the moment the person’s back came into view, Harry felt an indescribable, searing pain spread from the scar on his forehead, rapidly engulfing his entire head.
The pain was so intense, burning, and sharp, as if someone had cleaved his head with a red-hot axe.
Harry convulsed and fell to the ground.
Everything in his vision blurred into a hazy halo due to the pain. He heard Hermione’s worried cry:
“Harry, Harry, what’s wrong with you?”
“Pain, my head hurts so much…”
Harry barely suppressed the urge to roar, groaning. He felt Hermione tugging and dragging him, seemingly worried about being discovered by the figure.
But it was too late. In his hazy vision, he saw the blurry figure in the black robe stop.
Perhaps it was tears caused by the pain, but everything in Harry’s vision distorted and stretched, like a scene from a horror movie. All light and darkness writhed and danced around the black-robed figure’s back.
Hiss—
Hiss—
Harry heard the black-robed figure emit a hoarse, unpleasant sound, like a viper.
Then, the black-robed figure turned around, and the distorted light and shadow vanished instantly.
Harry panted heavily. He didn’t know what had happened, only that his head no longer hurt. But the dire situation wasn’t over. He saw the black-robed figure hastily wave his wand.
“Stupefy…”
But just a moment before it was finally cast, Harry saw someone appear beside him and heard a clear, young voice shout:
“Expelliarmus!”
It was Vaughn!
A dazzling red light shot out from the air.
It fiercely struck the black-robed figure, forcing him to retract his wand and sweep it in front of him.
“Protego!”
The red light hit the black-robed figure’s front, intercepted by a semi-transparent shield. However, the power contained within the spell was clearly beyond the black-robed figure’s expectation; it vibrated erratically, flickering!
