Chapter 128: First Year Ends
Seeing another pile of cheating tools discovered, Professor McGonagall’s expression grew even more grim: “I’ll say it again, any act of cheating during an exam will have severe consequences, and may even lead to expulsion… This is your last chance, don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Rustling, rustling.
More and more people lifted their robes, which was quite a revelation for Vaughn.
In the crowd, Harry and Ron’s eyes widened:
“Where did they get all these things?”
“Why didn’t anyone tell us?”
In front of them, Seamus, with a grimace, reluctantly produced a suspiciously labeled potion, answering, “You’re with Granger all day, who would dare tell you? Look, Granger looks like she’s about to explode with anger!”
Hermione was indeed annoyed; she hated this kind of crooked path. As a result, Gryffindor had the most cheating tools discovered among the houses!
Professor McGonagall was also in a bad mood.
On the other hand, Vaughn, who was in charge of the search, remained in good spirits amidst this interlude. The young wizards’ creativity in cheating was astounding, and the various strange and bizarre items he saw were endless. He wondered where these kids found them.
Unfortunately, all their clever tricks were nipped in the bud before they could even be used outside the examination hall.
Due to the large number of people carrying cheating tools, the first exam started a few minutes late, but overall, everything went smoothly.
At 9:15 AM, first and second years were settled into the large classrooms designated as examination venues. This area, which had been sealed off for an entire year, made the already stuffy and anxious summer air feel even more oppressive and heavy.
Compared to the older students who already had elective courses, first and second years had a total of seven compulsory subjects. The first day involved Charms Mastery in the morning and Transfiguration Studies in the afternoon, both with written and practical components. The written exams were fixed at one hour, while the practical exams had no strict time limit, with success being defined by casting the spell as required by the head examiner.
After the anti-cheating quills and parchment were distributed at the start of the exam, Vaughn stopped paying attention to the other young wizards and focused on completing the questions, then submitted his paper.
Professor Flitwick, who was proctoring the exam, glanced at the exam paper and smiled slightly: “Mr. Weasley, I’m delighted to see you haven’t neglected your studies. Your answers are brilliant, and your mature insights on the spells learned this academic year are very impressive… Alright, now for the practical part. I’m sure you’ll pass, but we have to follow the procedure!”
He winked and joked, entrusting the proctoring duties to Professor McGonagall, while he himself took Vaughn to another classroom.
In the empty classroom, a pineapple was placed. The content of the practical exam was to use a spell to make the pineapple tap-dance its way across a desk.
Professor Flitwick did not increase the difficulty of the exam because Vaughn’s spell-casting abilities were superior; in his words, there was no need.
“All the professors know that your skills far exceed your age. If you hadn’t enrolled only a year ago, other professors and I would have definitely recommended you to skip grades.”
“Can Hogwarts skip grades?”
“It’s very rare, yes, it has happened before, but that was many years ago. Actually implementing it is quite troublesome because it’s against regulations. However, suppressing your learning progress would be unfair to both you and the other students… But that’s a matter for next year or the year after. For now, let’s complete the Charms Mastery practical exam.”
Thus, Vaughn made the pineapple tap-dance. For dramatic effect, he even conjured a pair of dancing shoes from the pineapple’s leaves so that the fruit could produce a clear rhythm.
Professor Flitwick was mesmerized and awarded him full marks on the spot!
Harry didn’t know how he got out of the examination hall.
His mind was a blank, as vacant as when he had first started learning Legilimency.
From the Charms Mastery and Transfiguration Studies on the first day, his brain had been forced into this state. Herbology Mastery on the second day’s morning was also not easy.
However, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class was a breeze because the professor was “missing.” The temporary examiner, Professor Kettleburn, perfunctorily caught a few Flobberworms and asked everyone to subdue them.
These were Magical Creatures that the Ministry of Magic would barely give a “C.” They were lazy by nature, and would fall asleep with a mouthful of grass. They were so harmless that subduing them didn’t even require magic, just a good punch.
But perhaps all their good luck had been used up in Defense Against the Dark Arts. In Potions class this morning, Harry felt like he was in hell.
Whether it was the written or practical exam, Snape stood behind him the entire time, he could almost feel Snape’s breath on the back of his neck!
The sharp tongue and nitpicking were, of course, unavoidable.
Fortunately, such an agonizing period finally came to an end!
Glancing back at the semi-transparent, drowsy Professor Binns in the classroom, Harry shook his head.
History of Magic was the last exam. It didn’t require practicals, unlike Astronomy, so it was scheduled for the afternoon of the third day.
After answering the bizarre history of the self-stirring cauldron’s invention and walking out of the exam hall, it marked the complete end of the exams!
Now, they had a whole week to play to their hearts’ content while waiting for the results.
This was undoubtedly good news, but Harry couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. The other young wizards were much the same; the three days of exams had drained everyone’s energy.
When Harry found Ron, Ron’s red hair seemed to have lost its luster, and he was leaning listlessly against the corridor window.
“Hey, Harry.”
“Ron.”
They greeted each other weakly and then stared blankly at their equally dazed classmates shuffling past in the corridor.
After a while, they finally saw Hermione. But this member of the Golden Trio ignored her two good friends and instead linked arms with Vaughn, chattering away:
“…It was much simpler than I expected. I thought the establishment of the WAC would prompt the school to test the impact of the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct on subsequent werewolf situations, but it didn’t.”
“Professor Binns is old. His grasp of current affairs might not be as timely.”
Vaughn smiled: “If that question had come up, how would you have answered?”
“I would have…”
They walked past Harry and Ron, arm in arm, discussing.
They were, unsurprisingly, ignored.
Harry: “…”
Ron clutched his head: “Merlin’s beard, those two really are a pair. I’ll never understand how someone can complain that there wasn’t enough on the test and then make up their own questions afterward, especially when they’re on a date!”
“…Maybe that’s why they study well and we study poorly… Uh, should we review too?”
“No, I feel like throwing up!”
Ron flatly refused. He didn’t want to recall the exam content, let alone with Harry.
With a missing piece of the Golden Trio, Harry and Ron became even more dispirited. They sat blankly for a while longer until Filch started ushering them out to clear the examination hall for the fifth years. The two then ambled out of the corridor, following the tail of the crowd, into the sunlit courtyard.
Then they passed through the main gate, went downhill, and reached the Black Lake.
The weather had been consistently sunny for the past few days of exams. The scorching sun filled the Scottish Highlands with the essence of midsummer, and midsummer was usually languid.
In the distance, the Forbidden Forest echoed with the incessant chirping of cicadas. A gentle breeze brushed across the Black Lake, making its surface shimmer. A giant squid lay in the shallow bay, lazily flicking its tentacles, stirring up ripples.
Perhaps it was the wind, or perhaps the open vista, that somewhat lightened Ron’s mood. He plopped down on the grass, stretched his legs, and let out a long sigh: “We’re finally free. Cheer up, Harry. Think about it, for the next week, we don’t need to think about anything, nor do we have to pore over thick books until our heads spin. We can play to our hearts’ content!”
Harry asked blankly, “Where are we going to play? What are we going to play?”
“…” Ron faltered. He sadly realized that his brain hadn’t recovered from the terrifying revision and exams, and even the function of imagining what to play had been lost.
Whenever he used his brain, it was filled with spells and questions!
If only he could be as carefree as Fred and George.
Those two, who had also just finished their exams, were even in the mood to tease the giant squid!
Harry also saw the twins in the distance, by the shore of the shallow bay, using a branch to poke at the squid’s tentacles. He stared blankly for a while, his expression gradually becoming strange.
When Ron turned back, he noticed his expression: “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Ron… Fred and George have been busy editing, haven’t they?”
“Yeah,” Ron replied casually. “We were worried before, but we haven’t heard from them in a while, so the editing probably isn’t going well. Humph, Muggle things aren’t that easy to master. My dad took years to fix a Muggle car…”
Harry wasn’t in the mood to listen to Ron’s tale of Arthur’s struggle with the Muggle car. His voice was dry as he said, “Before, they barely showed up for revision because they were so focused on editing. For the first three days, they rushed off after every exam. But now… Ron, they actually have the leisure time to tease that giant squid…”
“Huh? So what? Maybe they’re just relaxing because they’ve just finished their exams.”
Harry didn’t commit to Ron’s explanation.
Many people said the twins were flighty and unreliable, but in Harry’s perception, these pranksters were actually very focused people, especially when it came to things they were interested in.
They would absolutely not be this leisurely unless they had finished or achieved results!
“We’re doomed, Ron!”
Harry said with a complex tone.
Harry’s words proved prophetic.
The very next morning.
Having just finished the exams, their biological clocks hadn’t adjusted yet, still waking up automatically as they had for the past few weeks. The sleepy young wizards shuffled into the Dining Hall and saw a huge silver screen erected at the end of each House’s long table.
Several strange-looking Muggle machines floated in the air, connected by bizarre “tapes” and wires. In the center, the largest machine emitted a beam of light that projected onto the silver screen, illuminating it brightly.
Pure-bloods from wizarding families were mystified, but half-bloods and young wizards from Muggle families immediately recognized them.
“That’s a screen!”
Dean Thomas shouted, pointing at the silver screen.
Justin Finch-Fletchley, from a Muggle family and always boasting about how he should have gone to Eton College, was a step behind. He could only point at the floating machines and exclaim to the Hufflepuffs beside him, “It’s a generator, a camera, and a projector! Oh my, I thought I’d never see these again!”
He looked very excited and shouted to the twins standing by the silver screen, “Fred, George, are you going to show a movie?”
After waiting for a while, they finally had someone who recognized their work.
Fred immediately responded loudly, “That’s right, this… this…”
“What his name is doesn’t matter, Fred,” George said, hopping onto the Gryffindor long table with a chuckle. He loudly addressed all the young wizards looking on: “Dear classmates, you must have missed the Weasley twins, having not seen us for so long! To be honest, we’ve missed you all too!”
“Who missed you? Hurry up and get on with it!”
Somewhere in the crowd, an unknown voice heckled. The twins scanned the crowd but couldn’t find the source, so they pretended not to hear and continued, “But all long partings have meaning, they are for the shock of reunion.”
“Yes, shock! Your dear Fred and George are no longer obsessed with petty pranks of the past. We have a greater ideal, and we have strived for this ideal for two whole months!”
“Those were undoubtedly difficult and lonely days, but just like a long parting, pain and loneliness are also meaningful. The greatest art is often born between the two.”
“Classmates, friends, please allow us to present the fruits of our labor, produced by Weasley Productions, starring Harry Potter and Ron Weasley—”
The twins shouted in unison: “The Wizarding World’s first movie, 《Harry Potter and the World in the Painting》!”
As soon as they finished speaking, they waved their wands, and the floating machines immediately whirred to life.
The light focused on the screen flickered a few times, and amidst the gasps that suddenly erupted in the Great Hall, Harry’s familiar, short figure in black-rimmed glasses appeared before everyone…
…
Harry woke up a little late today.
He had tossed and turned until very late last night.
Knowing what was troubling him, Ron tried to comfort him on the way: “Think on the bright side, Harry. Dumbledore hasn’t announced anything about the trials yet, and the exams are over. Everyone still doesn’t know what really happened to Quirrell. Maybe he doesn’t want anyone to know about the Painted World.”
“That’s entirely possible. Merlin’s beard, if everyone knew that Vold– I mean, the Dark Lord, was still alive, then…”
As they spoke, they reached the Dining Hall. The moment they pushed the door open, they heard continuous exclamations and cries:
“Professor Quirrell!”
“The Dark Lord?”
“Mum— Dad—”
Amidst that cacophony, the two who had just opened the door stood as if petrified, watching the crowded throng completely surrounding the giant screen at the end of the long tables in the Dining Hall.
On the screen, a dust-covered “Harry Potter” stood on a stone gallery bridge, confronting a hooded Professor Quirrell.
“Harry— Potter!”
A serpentine whisper emanated from speakers floating in the air.
The next instant, the scene switched, jumping to a Dragon’s Lair.
The young wizards in the audience immediately stirred:
“Fred! Hurry up and change the picture!”
“Idiot, a movie isn’t a picture, it’s film. This kind of scene transition isn’t because the film ran out, it’s editing, it’s montage.”
“I don’t care about film or montage, I want to see Harry and the Dark Lord. Merlin’s beard, is that really the Dark Lord? So last time Harry was hospitalized, was it by the Dark Lord… Oh my god!”
“Look, it’s Ron!”
“And a fire dragon!”
ROAR—
The fire dragon that suddenly appeared on the screen let out a furious roar, making the air in the entire Great Hall （ Dining Hall also the Great Hall ） seem to heat up.
The bickering voices in the crowd immediately subsided, and everyone stared intently at Ron and the fire dragon on the screen.
A few faint whispers, exchanged uncertainly:
“Ron said he fought a fire dragon, which caused him to swell up all over. Is that true?”
“But isn’t it rumored that he was covered in dragon dung…”
Staring blankly at the screen, Harry suddenly felt his arm being gripped tightly. He turned his head and saw that Ron’s cheeks were as red as his hair, his lips trembling, and he was sweating profusely:
“Quick, let’s go, Harry!”
Harry really wanted to laugh, so he deliberately said, “Why should we go? I want to see your heroic battle with the fire dragon!”
Ron squeezed his friend’s arm hard and pleaded, “That was all me bragging. Please, let’s go. There’s nothing to see.”
Seeing his distressed state, Harry finally couldn’t bear it and regretfully and quietly withdrew from the Great Hall with Ron.
As they returned to the corridor, they heard a huge wave of disgust from the Great Hall:
“Ew—”
Ron dared not stay any longer, turned and bolted, disappearing in a flash.
…
Eighth Floor, Headmaster’s Office.
The magical light in Dumbledore’s eyes gradually faded. He shook his head and gave a wry smile: “Poor Ron. Being the younger brother of you, Fred, and George is the greatest misfortune of his life.”
Vaughn, who was flipping through an ancient notebook next to the office’s large bookshelf, didn’t look up: “Showing the film was with your permission, don’t try to absolve yourself, Albus.”
“I didn’t permit it, I merely did not object.”
“Tch!” Vaughn pouted, not bothering to argue with this thick-skinned old man. He changed the subject: “How was the audience reaction to the screening?”
“Not bad, but many young wizards from Muggle families, continuing their understanding from Muggle society, seemed to think what was being shown was a movie, a fictional story.”
“That is precisely our goal. The current Wizarding World does not need the truth to be revealed suddenly. The truth would only plunge everyone into panic. Letting them accept it slowly is the most appropriate method.”
Dumbledore nodded, he agreed with this.
Concealing the fact that Voldemort was still alive was undoubtedly wrong. The Wizarding World should no longer remain immersed in the current false facade of peace.
However, revealing the truth abruptly would have too great an impact.
That’s why he had agreed to Vaughn filming the trial and showing it to everyone. Even the “plot” of the Dragon’s Lair, which likely led to Ron’s social death, was part of this consideration—the “plot” of Harry confronting Voldemort was too stimulating and needed a comedic interlude to lighten the mood.
Thinking this, he sighed again: “It’s a pity about Ron, the sacrifice is immense…”
Vaughn remained noncommittal: “You underestimate Ronald.”
………
Harry avoided people all day.
Especially the Dining Hall, where the twins were continuously showing “movies,” and enthusiastic viewers had almost occupied the entire first floor.
Ron had also disappeared. Since leaving the Dining Hall that morning, he had vanished. Harry tried to sneak back to the dormitory and even went to Hagrid’s Hut, but found him nowhere.
Then, in the evening, he suddenly reappeared—
Harry found Ron standing in the courtyard. He had thrown off the shame of the morning, standing tall and proud, surveying the young wizards surrounding him with teasing laughter.
“Yes, I did experience some things that are hard to look back on, but that’s because the dangers I faced were beyond what students could handle… You! If you encountered a fire dragon, what would you do?”
The older student, pointed at by Ron’s nose, faltered.
Ron didn’t wait for an answer: “Can your spells harm a fire dragon’s scales? Or are your legs faster than its wings? Or do you have any magic that can block a fire dragon’s breath?”
The string of questions made the older student’s face flush and pale.
Fire dragons are XXXXX-class Magical Creatures; a single fire dragon usually requires several adult wizards to subdue. He was still a student, and no matter how thick-skinned he was, he wouldn’t dare claim he could defeat one.
He could only feebly argue, “At least I wouldn’t clean up after a fire dragon without dignity just to survive…”
“Pedantic!”
Before the older student could finish, Ron roared, interrupting him: “Useless courage is just foolishness. Does a fire dragon have the morals of a wizard? No, it’s just a beast. It attacks you to survive. Similarly, when you counter-attack, flee, or appease it, those are simply survival strategies, unrelated to your dignity or thoughts!”
“I really don’t know what kind of education you’ve received. Is survival shameful?”
His righteous words made the older Gryffindor student’s eyes dart around. He instinctively felt something was wrong but couldn’t articulate it.
The young wizards watching the spectacle around them were also stunned. Their laughing expressions gradually faded, and their previous disdain receded—
Although they didn’t understand, they were deeply impressed!
Ron held his head even higher, almost looking down his nose at people: “Yes, I cleaned up after a fire dragon. I feel no shame, in fact, I’m proud—because facing a volatile fire dragon, I didn’t die, but instead, through knowledge, wisdom, and agility, I successfully survived. I’d like to ask you, who among you can do that?”
The surroundings were silent.
Some young wizards were even looking at Ron with admiration, like Neville!
From afar, Harry, who had been furtively watching the courtyard, also gaped in surprise.
This…
This was truly an unfolding of events he had never imagined…
Let alone Harry, even Dumbledore hadn’t expected that Ron, whom he thought would be humiliated, would become a star figure in Gryffindor by that night!
That night, when he summoned Vaughn to discuss important matters, he specifically lamented: “I always thought Mr. Weasley was rather… simple-minded. I didn’t expect him to be so adaptable and argumentative.”
Vaughn shook his head: “That’s not sophistry. Ron truly believes that.”
“Oh?”
“How to put it…” Vaughn thought for a moment, “He was bullied by me, Fred, and George for so many years. You know, that’s a lot of psychological pressure. So, Ron learned early on to interpret bad things from a different perspective, and he firmly believes his interpretations!”
“…”
There were too many points to dispute in this statement, and Dumbledore didn’t know where to begin.
Shaking his head, he didn’t dwell on it further and moved on to business: “The representative from Ilvermorny, Josiah Potter, has officially submitted an invitation to the Ministry of Magic today, inviting you to visit North America for an exchange on August 1st.”
“The Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Wizengamot have both agreed. The invitation will be forwarded to Hogwarts tomorrow.”
“It seems that Mr. Potter took my last suggestion to heart and conducted a thorough investigation of me. WAC is holding its first plenary session at the end of July, and he has set the invitation date for August 1st… I presume the invitation doesn’t mention my title, does it?” Vaughn asked playfully.
Vaughn asked playfully.
Dumbledore nodded: “Yes, he must have heard that you would be running for WAC President, but he’s unsure if it’s true. Perhaps he still believes you might be a puppet I’m supporting.”
Saying this, Old Dumbledore chuckled.
Political animals are all like that, always applying their rigid logic to everything. They never believe that a person can have ideals and pursuits beyond politics and power.
Vaughn’s expression was calm: “It’s just inertia of thought. They’re not incapable of understanding the cooperation between you and me; they just find it hard to comprehend why the great Dumbledore would support a child. What’s the exchange of interests behind it?”
“Indeed, mediocre people can never understand the foresight and tacit understanding of intelligent people,” Old Dumbledore sighed and asked, “How do you plan to respond?”
“No response for now. After the WAC meeting at the end of July, once everything is settled, I’ll reply, and mention my requirements then.”
“Isabella Rosier?”
“Mhm, she’s still stuck in North America,” Vaughn said, frowning slightly. He had lost contact with Isabella again recently.
With the vast Atlantic Ocean separating them, news from America was already difficult to reach England, let alone with the volatile situation there.
Looking at the troubled Vaughn, Dumbledore smiled and stroked his beard: “I still remember her, a very intelligent and beautiful young lady, and from the Rosier family, no wonder you…”
“Enough!” Vaughn interrupted him. “She and I are just friends. She was the first Potioneer to support my potion theory. We share common interests, that’s all.”
“I didn’t say anything, just discussing!”
“Full of dirty thoughts.” Vaughn rolled his eyes, too lazy to bother with the old man. He got up to leave, “Regarding the WAC presidency election, I’ve already communicated with the werewolf community. The rest is up to you. I think you understand that the werewolves won’t acknowledge anyone else.”
“My dear, are you threatening me?” Old Dumbledore asked with a smile.
Vaughn said calmly, “I’m merely stating facts.”
Dumbledore knew, of course, that the werewolves currently only trusted Vaughn. Even if he didn’t want Vaughn involved in power, for the time being, he could only accept this outcome.
Thinking this, he sighed inwardly, “Don’t worry, there won’t be any accidents.”
Nodding slightly, Vaughn prepared to leave but then thought of something. He turned back, “By the way, do you want to make another deal?”
“Oh? What deal?”
Dumbledore picked up a candy and asked casually.
Vaughn smiled, his golden-brown eyes as still as a deep pool:
“Resurrect Tom!”
*Crack!*
Dumbledore’s withered fingers trembled, and the candy dropped.
Old Dumbledore quickly recovered, drew his wand, and waved it, causing the portraits around them, who had suddenly fallen silent upon hearing Vaughn’s words, to fall asleep.
Then, he looked at Vaughn, his gaze flickering.
Ghosts are immortal, and so are remnant souls!
If possible, Dumbledore certainly didn’t want to cruelly burden a child like Harry with the responsibility of destroying the Dark Lord.
Ever since the summer of last year, when he sensed Voldemort’s remnant soul in Quirinus Quirrell, Dumbledore had been searching for various ways to completely destroy Voldemort.
He had scoured through countless documents, notes, and even dark magic.
But nothing worked. The dead could not be killed again, as if it were an ironclad rule of this world, at least, within the current magical knowledge system.
To kill Voldemort, he had to be resurrected first!
This was a rather thorny choice. On one hand, as a man with a conscience, facing a villain like Voldemort, who was steeped in sin, not only to not execute justice but also to undertake the dangerous task of resurrecting him was truly absurd and frustrating.
On the other hand, he couldn’t figure out how to arrange Voldemort’s resurrection.
Voldemort was a very cautious person.
Last year, with Vaughn’s analysis, Dumbledore found traces of Voldemort wandering in the primeval forest of Albania—
Entire swaths of dead mice, snakes, and even beetles and cockroaches!
They all bore signs of being parasitized by dark magic, which was shocking and left Dumbledore deeply impressed by Voldemort’s caution and forbearance.
The Dark Lord, stripped of his power, had also lost the will to trust others. He was like a wounded beast, preferring to curl up alone in a corner licking his wounds rather than expose his vulnerability to anyone, even his former servants!
Seeing Dumbledore’s distant gaze, Vaughn continued, “You’ve been troubled about how to arrange Tom’s resurrection, haven’t you? The Philosopher’s Stone was likely the method you devised last summer, but at the last moment, you hesitated, because you hadn’t yet found the answer as to why Tom wasn’t dead.”
Dumbledore did not speak.
But silence itself was an answer.
Vaughn was correct; he had borrowed the Philosopher’s Stone from Nicolas Flamel, and its initial purpose was not as a prop for Harry’s trial.
At that time, he spent a month searching through his library but couldn’t find a way to kill a remnant soul. The only possibility was to resurrect the remnant soul and then kill it.
And as Vaughn said, after borrowing the Philosopher’s Stone, he hesitated again—
An obvious logic: If Voldemort didn’t die 11 years ago, he might still not die if killed a second or third time.
Something had protected him from death.
It was then that he began to meticulously observe the destinies of Voldemort and Harry, and ultimately decided to put Harry to the test, using the Philosopher’s Stone as bait.
It wasn’t until a month after the start of the school year, on a night just like tonight, that Vaughn came to him and said:
“Let’s make a deal!”
