Chapter 144: System Changes And Curses
The short, stout wizard hopped three feet into the air. Ignoring Vaughn, he unleashed a torrent of curses at Lupin: “Merlin’s beard! You bastard! You dog! How dare you tell him my name?”
Lupin was speechless, about to say something.
Vaughn had already tapped the table, and in an instant, ripples spread outwards.
Magical ripples enveloped the table.
The space seemed to be covered in a thin veil, light and shadow twisting under an unknown power, leaving Vaughn and the others as mere blurry outlines in the eyes of the other patrons in the pub.
The transmission of sound was also interfered with by the magic, turning into a dull hum, making it impossible to distinguish anything.
Behind the bar, Aberforth, who had been idly wiping a glass with a dirty rag while keeping an eye on Vaughn and his companions, snorted in annoyance.
Across from him, a wizard who had been staring at the rag in his hand for a long time asked, “That looks terrible, why don’t you use a Cleaning Charm on it?”
Aberforth glared at him fiercely, “What’s it to you? Drink if you want, or get out!”
The wizard’s face turned red, but he dared not utter a sound.
The Hog’s Head Inn was quite famous throughout England. It had been a notorious grey establishment since the century before last, and its owners had never been pushovers. In fact, the very fact that one could openly run a grey pub in Hogsmeade without attracting the attention of the Aurors was telling in itself.
Inside Vaughn’s magical barrier.
Mundungus curiously poked a finger at the distorted light and shadow beside him. He felt a sense of rigor and weight along with the magical fluctuations, and he looked at Vaughn, “Soundproofing, distorting light, preventing detection, and some other effects I don’t recognize… a beautiful complex spell, silent and wandless, with magic as potent as an Auror’s. I think I know who you are.”
“Oh?” Vaughn raised an eyebrow.
“In my decades of life, there have been very few wizards who could achieve this level at the age of sixteen or so, and in recent years, there’s been only one!”
“The inventor of the Wolfsbane Potion, the youngest Potions Master and Wizengamot member, the founder of WAC—Vaughn Weasley!”
Mundungus Fletcher’s large head, bushy beard, and short, stout build made him look like a comedic actor, as if he would crack a joke with every word.
But at this moment, his expression was solemn, and his body tensed unconsciously.
Vaughn, as if he hadn’t noticed his wariness, maintained an air of amused curiosity, “Mr. Fletcher, it seems you know me quite well.”
Mundungus wanted to smile, but found his facial muscles too stiff to move: “This knowledge is all because your reputation has spread throughout England’s black market. As far as I know, many black market potion shops are proud to be able to obtain potions made by your own hands.”
“Oh—and what kind of reputation do I have on the black market?”
Mundungus put on a fawning expression: “Genius, powerful, mysterious; these are the evaluations of you by many dark wizards.”
Mundungus was undoubtedly a scoundrel.
But it was precisely such people, who frequented the grey areas and dealt with all sorts of vicious characters, who best understood who they could offend and who they absolutely should not provoke.
In his opinion, Vaughn was definitely someone not to be trifled with!
To be honest, he had never imagined he would be dealing with such a rising star in the wizarding world.
Thinking this, he glanced at Remus Lupin.
He and Remus Lupin had known each other for many years, since the time of Voldemort’s reign and the early days of the Order of the Phoenix, they often acted together.
Even after the war, their contact never broke. As a werewolf, Lupin had difficulty earning a stable income to support himself, and often had to do dirty jobs.
For instance, smuggling contraband items banned by the Ministry of Magic at the request of dark wizards, or helping a dark wizard deal with his or her rivals.
Mundungus, who operated in the grey areas, was his intermediary.
Of course, Mr. Mundungus Fletcher wouldn’t help for free. He usually took sixty percent of the mission reward as his fee.
After all, a notorious werewolf couldn’t go to the Ministry to report him for exploitation!
Even though they had fought side-by-side before.
“Damn it, is this karma?”
Mundungus mused to himself.
He had already guessed why Vaughn Weasley was looking for him.
Yesterday, he had just received two werewolf customers who hired him to find dark wizards. They claimed they were preparing to form a wizarding squad to capture werewolves.
What a naive thought!
What did those werewolves think dark wizards were? A group of law-abiding citizens who valued order and kept their promises?
Don’t be ridiculous!
Dark wizards’ reputations were like toilet paper, used and discarded. The idea of organizing them for any task was simply impossible.
Only fools who hadn’t experienced the harshness of society would have such fanciful notions.
So, in the spirit of helping them grow, Mundungus Fletcher didn’t hesitate to lead those two werewolves to a dark wizard den, collected his referral fee, and quickly ran off. As for whether those two werewolves were turned into voodoo dolls, or had all their organs harvested and sold on the market… what did it matter to him?
But he never expected that shortly after swindling two werewolves, Remus Lupin would show up, subdue him in a few moves, and drag him to the Hog’s Head Inn…
Intense regret swirled in Mundungus’s mind.
Across from him, Vaughn, still gently tapping the table, asked in a soft voice, “Mr. Fletcher, you probably know why I’m here, don’t you?”
Mundungus’s partially bald head began to sweat, glistening under the pub’s flickering candlelight. He wiped his forehead and bowed repeatedly, “Yes, yes, Mr. Weasley, but please, listen to my explanation. I didn’t know those dark wizards would be so excessive, they…”
*Dong—*
A crisp tapping sound suddenly intruded into his mind.
Mundungus’s hasty defense was cut short.
He saw Vaughn, sitting opposite him, his slightly reddish-brown eyes glowing with a faint blue light.
With the sound, visible ripples spread from Vaughn’s knuckles as he tapped the table, and his vision immediately blurred.
Having spent years in the underbelly of society and encountered all sorts of dangers, Mundungus immediately realized that Vaughn was attempting to invade his mind.
He reacted quickly, drawing his wand, his throat bobbing, a syllable of a spell about to escape his lips.
But then he was horrified to discover he was stiff…
It was as if he had suddenly lost control of his body. Not only could he not wield his wand, but his uncontrolled muscles couldn’t even utter a spell!
The next moment, the world spun.
An endless darkness washed over him. Perhaps it was a second, perhaps it felt like a long time. When Mundungus finally regained consciousness, what he saw made his heart nearly stop—
It was still the Hog’s Head Inn, within the silent, detection-proof magical barrier. Vaughn was still tapping the table, but this time, he was holding a strand of silver thread in his hand!
With his years of experience, Mundungus knew exactly what that was—
His memory!
Seeing his memories being extracted, for a fleeting moment, anger almost engulfed Mundungus.
For wizards, money, flesh, desire… these things were important, but the most important remained magic and memory.
The former was the foundation of their existence in the world.
The latter was their privacy, their secrets, the very basis of their concept of “self.”
However, Mundungus was a qualified black market merchant, thief, and broker. After the recent exchange, he also understood profoundly that he was no match for Vaughn Weasley!
In the lawless underbelly of the magical world, where the fittest survived, people knew best what was a sin and what was not to be provoked.
Therefore, he quickly calmed down.
This surprised Vaughn, who had expected a different reaction: “You don’t seem to mind me extracting your memories without permission?”
Mundungus smiled obsequiously, which, combined with his short, stout figure, looked particularly endearing. “Of course not. I understand. In fact, I was about to apologize. Those two werewolves who came to me yesterday must have been your subordinates, right?”
“I’m truly sorry, Mr. Weasley. If I had known they were working for you, I would have done my utmost!”
“You’re smarter than I thought, Mr. Fletcher,” Vaughn said with surprise. “At least in terms of knowing when to bow out, many wizards can’t compare to you.”
Beside them, Lupin twitched his lips.
He strongly suspected Vaughn was using his words to admonish him for “not knowing when to bow out”!
However, Vaughn clearly wouldn’t care about his thoughts.
Vaughn glanced at the strand of memory in his hand but didn’t read it. On one hand, in his magical vision, the thread was floating with many black impurities.
That was caused by dark magic contamination.
On the other hand, Mundungus Fletcher’s astuteness made him realize that this person had suddenly become valuable.
So he asked, “Then, Mr. Fletcher, can you tell me now who the dark wizards were who injured my two werewolf subordinates?”
He sent out a signal of goodwill.
Mundungus, as expected, understood immediately. He glanced at the strand of memory that Vaughn had extracted from him and decisively chose to defect:
“It was a group of dark wizards who drifted in from France. There were six of them in total, led by the Conard brothers （Conard）…”
“Cough, cough—”
Hearing this, Lupin, who had been quiet until then, nearly choked on his saliva.
Vaughn also wore a strange smile.
He had also taught himself French and, of course, knew that “Conard” in French meant “idiot”…
Mundungus, unfazed, said with a peculiar British pride, “That surname is clearly fake. French people have always lacked a sense of self-deprecating humor, far less than the English.”
“I dare say the Conard brothers must be Beauxbatons graduates. Of course, besides them, the other four are wild wizards （without formal education）. After leaving France, this group seemed to feel they had broken free from their shackles and were unwilling to abide by even the rules of the black market. They have always been ruthless.”
Vaughn chuckled, “You don’t seem to abide by the rules much yourself, Mr. Fletcher.”
Mundungus grinned, “Old Mundungus is just a crude thief with little education, but Old Mundungus knows to show respect to noble people. Only then does the crude Old Mundungus understand the meaning of rules, like when facing someone like you, Mr. Weasley.”
The straightforward flattery, coming from his mouth, didn’t sound out of place at all.
Although Lupin still felt queasy.
He looked at Vaughn, who pondered for a moment and asked, “Where is their stronghold?”
“In Cornwall, sir,” Mundungus said proactively. “Old Mundungus can take you there.”
Vaughn gave him a knowing glance and nodded.
Not long after, the three of them walked out of the Hog’s Head Inn. Hogsmeade was now shrouded in a dense mist.
It was clouds flowing down from the surrounding mountains.
Mundungus didn’t have enough magic to take two people at once. He first Apparated with Lupin to Cornwall, then returned to pick up Vaughn.
The spatial distortion caused by Apparition churned the thick fog in front of the pub, and when Mundungus and Vaughn also vanished.
Inside the pub, Aberforth, who seemed destined to perpetually clean glasses, looked up slightly.
His eyes, so strikingly similar to Albus Dumbledore’s, showed a hint of worry.
In fact, apart from not recognizing him at first, he had later recalled who this child brought by Lupin was.
To be precise, he, living in seclusion at the Hog’s Head Inn, had no interest in external affairs until early in the year, when Vaughn Weasley’s name was often linked with Albus Dumbledore’s, that he noticed him.
Having never had direct contact before, Aberforth only knew that Vaughn Weasley was a genius, and that his brother seemed to be grooming him.
He normally wouldn’t bother with such things.
But upon seeing him at the Hog’s Head Inn today, a sense of caution suddenly arose in Aberforth’s heart. Having spent over a century in the pub, he had seen all sorts of people, and could generally gauge whether a person was good or bad at a glance.
Vaughn Weasley… reminded him of that person who had accumulated immense fame during their school years decades ago.
In fact, they had many similarities.
Equally handsome, equally powerful, and equally… ambitious!
If not for their hair color, Aberforth would have almost thought that person had returned to the wizarding world.
He continued to wipe his glasses with his dirty rag, his mind drifting elsewhere, his thick, knotted beard obscuring his changing expression.
People could only see the pub owner, looking sideways at Ariana’s portrait hanging on the wall above the cupboard.
Those familiar with the Hog’s Head Inn knew this portrait well, and knew it was the pub owner’s most cherished possession, which he wiped several times a day, leaving not a speck of dust.
But no one knew why the pub owner cherished it, nor could they imagine that the pub owner was considering asking Ariana to help him open a passage to Hogwarts, so he could go and confront his brother.
“Albus, weren’t past mistakes enough? You’re supporting an ambitious fellow once again, what are you thinking?”
On the other side, Mundungus arrived in Cornwall, panting.
England’s summers were always rainy, and at this moment, the sky over Cornwall was covered by thick, dark clouds that stretched like a thick carpet from overhead to the horizon.
“Th-this is it, Mr. Weasley!”
Having carried two people from Scotland to Cornwall consecutively, the immense magical and emotional drain had nearly exhausted Mundungus.
If Vaughn hadn’t sensed his weakness during the second Apparition and forcefully intervened to help complete the latter half by following Mundungus’s trajectory, Mundungus’s upper or lower body might have been flung into Muggle society by now.
Ignoring Mundungus, who was out of breath and still trying to flatter him, Vaughn surveyed the surroundings.
This was a seaside fishing village.
The cove formed a small bay, and the change in terrain from the shore indicated a good deep-water harbor, very suitable for fishing.
However, that was a story of the past.
Since the Muggle government in England began promoting deindustrialization and developing the tertiary sector in the 1980s, traditional industries and fishing had inevitably declined.
Of course, compared to inland traditional industries that could only watch themselves die, this fishing village was not defeated by the Muggle government’s decisions. Its unique geographical environment allowed it to successfully transform and develop tourism.
As far as the eye could see, the deep-water harbor that once bustled with fishing boats was now occupied by countless speedboats and sailboats.
In the distance were white sandy beaches, lush vegetation lined the shore, and at the furthest point, on a cliff jutting out from the mainland, an ancient castle sat nestled among green trees.
Vaughn saw the name of the place on a road sign beside the path: St Ives.
Having heard of the place due to its proximity to Devon, Vaughn retracted his gaze and looked at a two-story building not far away.
It was a typical Cornish cottage, with white-painted walls and a pale gold roof. Even in the current drizzling rain, it didn’t detract much from its charm.
Noticing Vaughn’s gaze, Mundungus, ignoring his fatigue, hurried to explain, “Mr. Weasley, the Conard brothers’ gang is in that small building. Those scoundrels have some brains; this Muggle village attracts many foreign tourists, so they’re hiding here, unnoticed.”
Saying this, he grovelled, “Sir, please let Old Mundungus help you open the door. This is Old Mundungus’s apology. The rude Frenchmen are hard to communicate with. I can explain your intentions to them on your behalf, which will facilitate subsequent negotiations…”
“Negotiations? What negotiations?”
Vaughn’s nonchalant question made Mundungus falter. He blinked his small eyes and stammered, “Neg-negotiations about them injuring your subordinates, and, and compensation…”
Vaughn’s expression remained impassive, “There’s no need to discuss such matters with the dead!”
As the words fell, to the stunned expressions of Mundungus and Lupin, Vaughn silently recited “System.”
【Host: Vaughn Weasley】
【Magic Power Scale: 584 (Normal Adult Wizard is 500)】
【Talents: Charms Mastery 8, Dark Arts 6, Transfiguration 8, Potions Mastery 10, Herbology Mastery 6, Alchemy 6, Divination Mastery 2 (Max is 10)】
【Spells: Legilimency LV5 (MAX), Full Body-Bind Curse LV5 (MAX), Disarming Charm LV5 (MAX), Evanesco LV5 （MAX）… Mind Heist LV3 (21/32), Disillusionment Charm LV3 （10/16）, Sectumsempra LV3 （3/24）, Apparition LV3 （3/24）…】
【Curses: Resurrection Curse LV0 （0/2）, Witherling Curse LV0 （0/2）… Awakening Charm LV0 （0/3）, Time Curse LV0 （0/4）…】
【Ancient Magic: Soul Steal LV0 （0/4）】
【Alchemy LV0 （3/20）】
【Potions: “Vaughn’s Beauty” series, “Vaughn’s Hair” series, Wolfsbane Potion, etc…】
【Reputation Points: 19 points】
The System Panel had undergone some changes.
The curse magic and ancient magic Vaughn had obtained from Morfin Gaunt’s mind had been assigned independent categories by the system.
The logic for allocating points had not changed.
Glancing over the other notification messages, Vaughn looked at “Time Curse” in the 【Curses】 section.
This was the first magic he had encountered that deeply involved the concept of “time.” It was extremely domineering and insidious, achieving its destructive effect by plundering the target’s time.
Looking at his remaining Reputation Points, Vaughn upgraded it to LV2 （7/24）.
Instantly, countless pieces of knowledge flooded into his mind from an unknown source; these were abstract understandings of words and the memories of repeated practice.
While this process was mentally lengthy, in reality, it only took a few seconds.
To Mundungus and Lupin, Vaughn had merely paused for a moment, and then, a powerful surge of magic emanated from his body.
The magic, mobilized to its full extent, even affected the natural fall of raindrops, which were repelled by the waves of vibrating air, expanding outwards in a sphere.
The next moment, the two saw Vaughn draw his wand, point it at the small building in the distance, and heard him utter the incantation:
“Tempus Edax! （Latin, from 《The Hunchback of Notre Dame》’s Tempus edax, homo edacior. Tempus means time, Edax means ‘to eat’ or ‘destroy’.”
A peculiar vortex condensed at the tip of his wand.
But to the astonishment of the observers Mundungus and Lupin, they couldn’t describe the shape of the vortex at all. They could only see the falling rain around them, at the moment the vortex condensed, begin to float upwards.
No, not floating, but reversing!
The raindrops that had fallen on their clothes and splattered on the ground, under the effect of some power, re-aggregated. Everything was like a Muggle movie playing in reverse.
But soon, their expressions changed from astonishment to fear—
The vortex condensed at the tip of the wand for an extremely short time. In an instant, it disappeared from Vaughn’s wand tip, and the next moment, it had blasted into the small building.
There was no explosion, no sound or light effects.
The solid brick walls of the building seemed unable to impede it at all. It penetrated like a ghost, and then, the terrifying changes began.
The pristine white building with the golden roof visibly decayed.
The paint on the originally clean walls peeled off and blackened. Rusted marks spread like ink, accompanied by cracks that consumed the original color.
Immediately after, it collapsed!
Under the effect of the magic, the small building seemed to have aged decades in mere seconds, turning into ruins from erosion by wind and water.
Within the ruins, several magical lights still flickered.
These were the six wizards who were suddenly attacked and desperately fought back, but their struggles were destined to be futile as the invisible vortex enveloped them.
The Full Body-Bind Curses they cast, and their retaliatory magic, all wavered under the vortex.
And this process was not long, only a few seconds.
As one magical light extinguished, a wizard let out a desperate roar, attempting to escape the now ruined house, but it was in vain.
Mundungus and Lupin’s pupils reflected his tragic state—
His clothes rapidly became tattered, his full skin shrivelled and became dry and wrinkled like it had been dehydrated, and large patches appeared on his body.
He stumbled a few steps, and with a crack, his severely aged, fragile bones could no longer maintain their original form.
He fell to the ground. Under the curse of time, he had almost instantly turned into a pile of dry bones upon landing, shattering into pieces!
For wizards, what was the most terrifying thing?
Everyone might have their own answer.
Human emotions of fear cannot be quantified; they are influenced by one’s experiences and surroundings. There is no universal “most,” only a “most” under specific conditions of time and place.
For example, Mundungus at this moment.
He felt that everything that had happened before him was the most terrifying scene he had ever witnessed.
He personally watched the six dark wizards with whom he had chatted and laughed just yesterday, the ferocious Conard brothers, desperately, tragically, have their time stolen by Vaughn Weasley’s strange magic.
He personally watched these experienced wizards try every method to save themselves in a matter of seconds.
But the gap in magic and magical power rendered all their efforts meaningless. They could only watch helplessly as their protective Full Body-Bind Curses flickered out, exposing them to the magic, and then, in despair, turn into scattered dry bones after a few steps.
The strongest, Big Conard, lasted a little longer, but that only brought him more intense pain. In the last few seconds of his life, he clearly felt his brain, which was already just a skeleton, slowly dying, disappearing, and his consciousness sinking into darkness.
Mundungus watched this gruesome scene, his face and lips as white as snow. His heart clenched as if an invisible hand was squeezing it, reminding him to firmly remember this scene.
Lupin, standing beside him, looked no better.
In fact, he had never imagined Vaughn would be so ruthless. No contact, no negotiation, not even willing to listen to the explanations of those six wizards.
He had destroyed six lives with one strike!
He subconsciously clenched his fists, his melancholic eyes fixed on Vaughn, who was still holding his wand, completely eradicating the collapsed building and the dead dark wizards.
He… could not condone such methods!
He…
His heart roared and raged, but suddenly, a scene from eleven years ago flashed through his mind.
The Potter old house in Godric’s Hollow reduced to ruins, James and Lily lying in pools of blood, Harry’s loud cries, and on the 《Daily Prophet》, Sirius, who had killed Peter, crying and laughing maniacally…
For eleven years, Lupin had many questions.
Why did Sirius betray James?
He knew his friend better than anyone. Sirius had rejected his family and severed ties with his past precisely because he detested the Pure-blood ideology.
Why would such a resolute person, who stood for his ideals, defect to Voldemort?
However, for eleven years, these worries and doubts had only festered in his heart. Dumbledore was deeply remorseful about the deaths of James and Lily. At the time, he suspected a mole in the Order of the Phoenix but suspected the wrong person （Dumbledore likely suspected Lupin at the time）, which led him to not insist on using himself as the Secret-Keeper.
In a sense, Dumbledore had also wanted to use the Secret-Keeper issue to draw out the mole.
But he never expected that the mole would be Sirius, who was closest to James and Lily.
Disappointed and regretful, Dumbledore came to deeply resent Sirius from then on. Several times in the past few years, Lupin had offered to go to Azkaban and confront Sirius, but Dumbledore refused.
As more than a decade passed, and Sirius was in imminent danger of dying in Azkaban, Lupin had almost despaired of ever finding the truth.
Until today, when Vaughn said he had seen Sirius in Azkaban!
Just as a drowning person desperately clutches at a straw, Vaughn was now perhaps the only one who could help him resolve this lifelong knot.
The resurfacing memories plunged Lupin into a struggle between morality on one side, and friendship and truth on the other. He clenched his fists, then relaxed them.
After a few such moments, he finally sighed inwardly.
At some unknown point, the magical effect had ceased, and the curtain of rain that had been receding around them began to fall again.
Amidst the splashing water, Mundungus and Lupin watched Vaughn lower his wand and turn around. His handsome, youthful face remained unchanged.
This greatly surprised them.
After casting such a powerful spell, Vaughn’s complexion showed no sign of paleness?
Unaware of their thoughts and indifferent to them, Vaughn flicked his wand with lingering interest.
In fact, he himself was somewhat surprised.
Previously, his understanding of the Time Curse was limited to the repeated practice in Morfin Gaunt’s memories. But as mentioned before, the Gaunt family, with their history of inbreeding, had generations with declining talent.
Marvolo Gaunt still had some strength, but Morfin Gaunt was utterly incompetent.
In his memories, Vaughn had even seen him fighting with a wand in one hand and a dagger in the other…
Therefore, he hadn’t expected that upgrading the Time Curse to LV2 in one go would produce such a powerful effect.
His original intention was merely to display his strength to intimidate Mundungus and Lupin.
Thinking this, Vaughn instructed, “I’ll go back first. Remus, you and Mr. Fletcher, please take the trouble to cast a Muggle Repelling Charm and a Confundus Charm on the ruins to prevent Muggle panic.”
He didn’t ask them to use a Mending Charm because the small building had been completely destroyed by the Time Curse. Although the Mending Charm was also a time-based spell, the destructive force of this attack was beyond its repair capabilities.
Upon hearing Vaughn’s instructions, before the hesitant Lupin could reply, Mundungus obsequiously said, “You are too kind, Mr. Weasley. Please rest assured, Lupin and I will thoroughly conceal this place and guarantee that Muggles won’t discover it for decades.”
“Very good,” Vaughn nodded. “After you’re done, have Lupin take you to where I’m currently residing. I have further instructions for you.”
He was eager to return. Casting the Time Curse this time not only made him realize its power but also led him to discover some things.
He needed to thoroughly examine himself, review the state he was in at the time, and analyze and explain all the changes.
Inspiration was fleeting, and he couldn’t afford to delay.
