Chapter 40: Newt Scamander
After eating chocolate, Black in the portrait and his teacher, who should also be some headmaster, were still wrestling and tearing at each other.
A crowd of old men and women watched around.
The spacious headmaster’s office instantly turned into a senior activity center.
“Child, don’t believe Old Black’s nonsense. Ever since he knew the last male heir of the Black family was taken to Azkaban, he’s gone mad.”
A kind voice came from beside him.
Vaughn looked towards the sound. On a blank portrait that had been hanging near the desk, there was now a red-haired old woman.
In the Wizarding World, seeing that red hair was almost all one needed to know.
Vaughn bowed: “Hello, Headmistress Weasley. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to call you?”
She was undoubtedly an ancestor of the Weasley family, but Arthur and Molly had eloped and were long disowned by the family, and they hadn’t brought any family lineage documents. The younger generation, including Vaughn, knew nothing of the Weasley history.
The old woman was plump and looked kind and benevolent:
“Don’t worry about that. I’ve been dead for a long time, and the seniority of the former Weasley family is no longer important.”
Vaughn followed her lead.
If the dead themselves didn’t care, he had no need to insist on finding out. He changed the subject: “You just said the last male heir of the Black family, did you mean Sirius Black?”
“Yes, that was 10 years ago. I still remember the mad howl of Old Black when Dumbledore told him the news.”
“One of the sacred 28 Pure-bloods, which has been passed down for a thousand years, is about to become dust in history. We can understand his pain, but from then on, he has been trying to lure Slytherin students to help him rescue Sirius from Azkaban…”
Headmistress Weasley sighed:
“Doing so was too much, and Dumbledore had to confine him to the office because of it.”
She looked at Vaughn with affection and cautioned: “You are still young and may yearn for power, but you must be vigilant and restrained in your research of Dark Arts.”
“Some ignorant dark wizards always say that power has no good or evil, that the wizard decides good and evil, but Dark Arts requires extreme, negative emotions as nourishment. When one is constantly in such intense emotions, who can guarantee they won’t go mad?”
Vaughn nodded.
That was also his opinion.
That’s why he was curious how Dumbledore and Snape solved this problem.
After chatting with his ancestor for a while longer and watching the commotion, finding it a bit boring as the two old men were endlessly fighting, Vaughn wandered around Dumbledore’s office.
He found the Pensieve in a cabinet near the fireplace.
Vaughn vaguely recalled that Dumbledore had saved many memories of Tom in order to investigate why Tom wouldn’t die.
However, he didn’t see them; they were likely hidden by Dumbledore with magic.
Then, near the door, in a corner blocked by a shelf, he discovered a full-length mirror covered with Black Silk.
Vaughn didn’t lift the silk; he knew what it was.
“That is the Mirror of Erised.”
Apparition disturbed the office’s quiet air, and Fawkes returned with Dumbledore.
The old man, who looked like he had gone out to confirm something, seemed to be in a good mood. He smiled at Vaughn and said:
“Legend has it that it can reflect a person’s desires. Mr. Weasley, aren’t you going to take a look?”
Vaughn smiled and shook his head: “I saw its introduction in an Alchemy book. It can only reflect desires, not fulfill them. No matter how much you look, it’s still fake.”
“But I think it can help you determine your inner thoughts.”
“I know very well what I desire within myself, Headmaster. A person’s self-perception should start from within, not by relying on a mirror.”
Vaughn replied, becoming a little impatient, and couldn’t resist a jab at Dumbledore: “What did you see in the mirror?”
“…”
Dumbledore momentarily lost himself in thought.
He couldn’t help but recall the past period, how he stood spellbound before the mirror every day, and how the mirror reflected four young children, their voices and appearances exactly as they were more than ninety years ago.
Unlike reality, they had no conflicts, hadn’t caused tragedy, and were laughing happily, close and joyful.
But the great wizard quickly suppressed the surging emotions within him and winked at Vaughn: “I saw many Woolen Socks. You must understand, child, that an old man over a hundred years old deeply hopes someone will give him a pair of warm Woolen Socks for Christmas.”
“Heh heh…”
Vaughn responded with an enigmatic chuckle.
He didn’t want to play this game of feigned madness with Dumbledore anymore and asked directly: “Did you discover anything?”
Dumbledore shook his head regretfully but still answered: “Yes, Mr. Weasley, your guess was correct. A powerful dark wizard is plotting to obtain Unicorn Blood, attempting to brew a potion of immortality to sustain his… ugly, humble, and flickering life!”
As he said this, a complex expression flashed in his bright blue eyes.
But soon, his tone became lighter:
“Although I haven’t found him, fortunately, I have found the unicorn herd. No unicorns have died because of this yet. Your discovery is very timely, Mr. Weasley. I thank you on behalf of the unicorns. You are truly a good person—”
Dumbledore touched the corner of his eye, moved.
Such an actor!
Vaughn’s mouth twitched a few times. In comparison, he preferred playing with Ron and Harry. These old foxes were too detestable!
What a pity. It seemed Tom didn’t go to the Forbidden Forest tonight. If the two of them had met, it would have been interesting.
Vaughn sighed regretfully, then suggested: “Headmaster, I suggest transferring the unicorns elsewhere. The Forbidden Forest is no longer suitable for their survival, and Hogwarts doesn’t have enough staff to play the role of a thief all day.”
“An excellent suggestion, Weasley… Oh, may I call you Vaughn? It will be more intimate.”
Vaughn chuckled: “Then may I call you Albus?”
Unexpectedly, Old Dumbledore didn’t care at all and said with a smile: “Of course, names are meant to be spoken, aren’t they?”
Saying this, before Vaughn could chuckle again, he continued:
“I also think the unicorns are not suitable for the Forbidden Forest anymore, so I’ve decided to ask an old friend for help. Come with me, Vaughn, he’s also a good person, and you’ll surely like him.”
Vaughn did not refuse.
He walked to Dumbledore’s side, grabbed his wrist, Fawkes chirped and landed on Dumbledore’s shoulder.
“Have you ever experienced accompanying apparition? Relax, it’s just a little uncomfortable.”
“Okay, Albus!”
“Don’t struggle in the middle. Splitting apart is terrifying. If your head flies off, I’m afraid I won’t be able to find it, child.”
“Okay, Albus!”
“…I think you don’t need to call me by my name all the time.”
“Okay, Albus!”
*Whoosh—*
The two distorted and vanished, leaving only the arguing portraits in the office.
