Chapter 195: Vaughn Under “house Arrest”
“Enough!”
The old wizard’s nagging was interrupted by an impatient Snape: “I’m not in the mood to listen to your nonsense. I just want to know, what is Vaughn’s situation?”
Dumbledore, interrupted, seemed to have more to say.
However, he also knew that teasing had reached its limit, otherwise Severus might have the opposite effect under his “shyness.”
He spread his hands: “The newspaper said he was under house arrest, which is not wrong. Yesterday, Vaughn sent me another letter. Apparently, the alchemical marvel, the Dreamcatcher, from North America is now monitoring him at the hotel where he lives without any disguise. The Muggles inside the hotel have also been expelled, and the entire place is filled with wizards sent by the Magical Congress.”
His facial muscles twitched, Snape gripped his wand and loudly questioned Dumbledore: “In that case, why are you still researching Grindelwald all day without taking any measures? You should go to North America and bring Vaughn back!”
“Uh… calm down, Severus,” Dumbledore soothed, “I suggested something similar to him, but he refused.”
“?” Snape frowned.
Dumbledore stood up, beckoned, and a plate holding candy from the corner floated to Snape, “Would you like a piece of candy, Severus?”
“Make it go away!”
“Alright.” Bringing the candy plate closer, Dumbledore picked up a Cockroach Cluster and put it in his mouth, continuing, “House arrest does exist, and at the same time, Vaughn ‘obeying’ the Magical Congress’s house arrest is also a fact.”
“…Why would he do that?”
“How should I put it…” Dumbledore thought for a moment, “Because of DeSantis’s presence, he wants to temporarily ease relations with the Magical Congress, but he doesn’t want to be too proactive. Therefore, he plans to put himself in a seemingly vulnerable position and then use public opinion to force the Magical Congress to the negotiating table.”
It was a bit convoluted to explain.
But Snape understood a little. He looked at the newspaper on the desk and hesitated: “Are you saying that the news on here was released by Vaughn?”
“Otherwise?”
Dumbledore smiled: “As far as I know, the Magical Congress is still arguing today. Eight Auror Squads have suffered heavy losses. Although the losses are mainly from the Graves family, as the core armed force of the Magical Congress, the Auror Squads being so severely infiltrated, with three Head Aurors and dozens of Aurors being turned…”
“DeSantis has brought a series of security issues. Is DeSantis’s infiltration limited to the Department of Magical Security? If so, besides the already exposed traitors, how many more have ‘DeSantis’ in their Mind World? If not, then it’s even worse. How many departments are problematic?”
“The Magical Congress is like a powder keg now. They can’t reach a consensus after arguing for days. The crisis of trust caused by DeSantis has driven those representatives almost mad. Vaughn and Babajide being ‘under house arrest’ is a product of this background.”
“Vaughn doesn’t want to provoke them, so he’s cooperating with the ‘house arrest’, but he doesn’t want to endure it silently. So today, the Daily Prophet, The Quibbler… simultaneously received the ‘report’ you saw.”
Snape’s mouth twitched.
But Mr. Half-blood would not admit his rashness.
He snorted dryly: “Always plotting schemes and manipulating public opinion, it’s disgusting!”
Dumbledore still smiled: “That’s why we didn’t inform you.”
“Remember to notify me next time, lest one day, due to deception, I accidentally drop a few drops of Veritaserum or Dementor’s Kiss potion into your dinner!” Snape said with a cold face, flicked the hem of his robe, and turned to leave.
Dumbledore behind him burst into laughter.
………
“Will this have any effect on the Magical Congress?”
England is 5 hours ahead of America. When it was noon at Hogwarts, it was morning in Boston.
Ajinbad, who was described as on his last legs in the Daily Prophet, knocked on Vaughn’s suite door early in the morning, holding the newspaper.
The old wizard had no objections to the text in the newspaper describing him as almost dead, and in fact, he read it with great interest.
The morning fog in Boston was light. When Vaughn emerged from the lavatory after washing up, a hint of dawn was just spreading across the horizon. Hearing Ajinbad’s question, he withdrew his gaze from the rosy sky and sat beside him:
“No organization can fully unify its opinions, especially when undergoing major changes. There will always be someone who pops up to sing a different tune.”
As he spoke, Vaughn carefully examined the burns on Ajinbad’s face, which was also the purpose of his early morning visit.
However, he still complained, “I’m just a Potioneer, not a doctor. Why don’t you find the Magical Congress to arrange treatment and come bother me instead?”
“Because I’m afraid they’ll kill me.”
Ajinbad pouted: “No Yankee is to be trusted. I’d rather trust you than their integrity!”
“Don’t worry, although the Magical Congress is monitoring us and putting us under house arrest, you have to admit that they are the ones who least want us to get into trouble right now.”
Vaughn teased.
Ajinbad snorted and continued reading the newspaper: “I just hope things develop as you predicted, and that public opinion can really force the Magical Congress to put aside their useless arrogance and sit down at the negotiating table with us.”
Speaking of which, he suddenly remembered something and asked, “Michael Graves hasn’t appeared. Do you think something happened to him too?”
“Perhaps… Your injury is almost healed. Two more doses of potions will remove the fire poison, and then a dose of Spermaceti will completely heal the wound. Of course, if you need it, I can help you preserve the scar.”
Ajinbad showed no reaction to this.
For a wizard like him, who came from Africa and climbed to a high position from the bottom, he neither feared disfigurement nor needed to deliberately preserve scars to prove his bravery.
After finishing his “consultation,” he tore his gaze away from the newspaper and looked at Vaughn: “Are you going out again today?”
Yes, although he was currently under house arrest by the Magical Congress, in reality, just as Vaughn tried to avoid provoking them, the Magical Congress did not dare to provoke the WAC and the Federation.
The so-called house arrest actually imposed no restrictions on them. As long as they did not leave Boston, they could move freely within the city.
For example, for the past few days, Vaughn had been wandering around the nearby university town.
Honestly, Ajinbad couldn’t quite understand what the young wizard in front of him was thinking all day: “I heard you’ve been at Harvard these past few days, listening to a Muggle professor lecture?”
“Yes.”
“Mathematics?” Ajinbad guessed, as he had just used Muggle mathematical knowledge to develop a new spell a few days prior.
But to his surprise, Vaughn shook his head and denied it: “That professor taught philosophy.”
Philosophy…
Ajinbad naturally knew what philosophy was, but… was there any need to study it?
As a wizard of the Federation who did not reject Muggles, Ajinbad had encountered a lot of Muggle knowledge. Although he often couldn’t understand it, he also knew that Muggle physics, mathematics, biology, etc., were very useful knowledge.
Only philosophy, incomprehensible and pretentious, felt like a waste of time to him!
In a sense, his view was not wrong.
Since natural science separated from philosophy, modern philosophy had become a very limited discipline. It did not study and describe the objective laws of matter, but rather the product of subjective thought, taking people and the society they inhabit as its research subjects.
Although wizards were also people and had societies, their concepts of “person” and “society” were fundamentally different from those defined by Muggles.
If science had reference and validation value for wizards, then Muggle philosophy was pure trash in the eyes of wizards.
It was normal for Ajinbad to look down on it.
Therefore, Vaughn ignored his doubts, took out his cauldron, slightly adjusted the potion recipe based on the condition of the wound on Ajinbad’s face, and brewed him a dose of medicine.
After seeing him off, he left the hotel alone.
Looking back, his alchemical talent granted him a special vision, clearly seeing the hotel building behind him shrouded in dense “silk.”
Those were the tentacles of the “Dreamcatcher.”
Ever since Donald Graves woke up a few days ago, rushed back to the Woolworth Building, and reported his encounter, this thing had become increasingly undisguised.
However, it also indicated that the Magical Congress was at a loss internally, unable to calmly and rationally assess what attitude to take to face the WAC and the Federation.
This ultimately led to contradictory results: on one hand, they forcibly strengthened surveillance on the WAC and the Federation, and on the other hand, they dared not truly restrict personal freedom.
Vaughn could almost imagine the representatives of the Magical Congress arguing heatedly about how to proceed.
“Heh!”
He sneered and walked out onto the street. At the entrance of the street, two Congressional Aurors in black trench coats and top hats, dressed as they were 60 years ago, silently watched him leave.
No one stopped him, and no one followed him.
Of course, even if someone had followed him, Vaughn wouldn’t have cared. He walked a distance along the old road and, instead of going to the place where he had been listening to lectures for the past few days, turned into a small alley.
The alley was narrow and dark, with water filling the uneven ground. Coupled with the buildings with a strong Victorian style on both sides, it made Vaughn almost feel like he was back in rainy London.
At the end of the alley, a man stood leaning against the wall in the dirty puddles.
Hearing footsteps, he looked up. The moment his eyes reflected Vaughn’s figure, he quickly stood up straight and, somewhat awkwardly, took off his hat:
“Good day, Mr. Weasley!”
Vaughn stopped at the edge of the puddle a few steps away and asked gently, “John, is the black market open today?”
“Of course, of course. You know, after the events of the past few days, everyone urgently needs a place to exchange information. Many local wizards have come. Today’s black market is presided over by Mr. Joker.”
This was the entrance to a local black market in Boston, and the man in front of him was the gatekeeper.
The existence of the black market was told to Vaughn by Donald Graves. Its background seemed quite profound. At least, when Vaughn came for the first time a few days ago, the gatekeeper recognized him at a glance.
Looking at Vaughn, John’s eyes flickered with fear.
Whether Muggles or wizards, under any social system, there would be a bright side and a dark side.
Especially in a country like America, which had been torn apart by the Magical Congress, dark forces were particularly rampant. On one hand, due to the retreat of the ruling power, civilian militias and organizations were everywhere, and the ruling authority was unclear.
On the other hand, during the power vacuum, all sorts of ambitious individuals couldn’t help but emerge. Some liked power, some liked money.
This black market was supported by an ambitious figure with a very high status within Congress who liked money. Otherwise, in the current situation, how could there still be a black market in Boston, which was heavily blocked by the Magical Congress.
In the past period, the big figure behind the black market had warned them more than once not to provoke Vaughn Weasley, and had even shown everyone the footage of the battle a few days ago—extracted from the memories of the surviving Aurors.
This was to prevent them from being ignorant and blind, and offending someone they couldn’t afford to offend.
Thinking of the image he had seen of Vaughn Weasley’s astonishing magical power and exquisite spells, John’s throat tensed, and he nervously moved aside:
“Please enter, Mr. Weasley. I hope you enjoy yourself.”
As for the credentials and entrance fee required to enter the black market, according to the rules?
Whoever wanted it could have it. He certainly wouldn’t dare to ask!
“Thank you.” Vaughn was still as gentle as ever, thanking him politely, and then stepped into the puddle in front of him.
The black and gray dirty puddle, which looked shallow, suddenly turned into a bottomless abyss the moment he stepped into it.
The oily surface rippled, “swallowing” Vaughn.
Watching Vaughn completely sink into the water, John, who had been nervously clutching his wand, finally breathed a sigh of relief. Then he realized that his back was covered in cold sweat, his clothes soaked and clinging to him.
Wiping his sweat, John said with lingering fear: “Standing in front of him, I felt more nervous than standing in front of the big boss. Such a monster, and only 12 years old?”
Thinking of his own 12-year-old self.
Envy and jealousy flashed through his heart for a moment, then subsided. He was no longer at an age for dreaming. Leaving Ilvermorny and entering society had long since worn away his ambitions.
Now, he just wanted to live a stable life.
John sighed, tucked his hands into his sleeves, leaned against the wall, and watched the alley entrance, content to be the gatekeeper.
……
He sank into the water, but felt no contact with it. His vision went black for a few breaths, and when it returned, he was already standing in a rudimentary bar.
The mottled red brick walls around, the crisscrossing pipes, and the ditch full of water not far away all indicated that this should have originally been a sewer built by the Muggle government.
It was merely being borrowed by wizards and magically modified.
A giant bubble-shaped shield enveloped the entire bar area, keeping out the filthy environment and foul smell of the sewer.
The space within the shield was also expanded with an Undetectable Extension Charm, creating a space almost as large as a hotel lobby, with haphazardly placed boxes, tables, chairs, a simply constructed stage, and a bar counter.
The bar was lively. A gramophone played music no one listened to. In front of the stage, many people had gathered. A wizard wearing a Pukwudgie mask stood on it, waving a hammer, and shouting loudly at the crowd:
“…The Cat Leopard, a creature classified as XXXX by Mr. Newt Scamander in ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,’ is as rare and precious as Fire Dragons and Phoenixes. They are natural Legilimency masters, and keeping one would be an excellent helper for your travels and adventures. If you are a Potioneer, you are even luckier. The eyes of a Cat Leopard and its dried brain are very rare medicinal herbs, and are the main ingredients for brewing various memory-protection potions…”
The wizard in the Pukwudgie mask spoke with inflammatory rhetoric.
Next to him was a rotating display, where a lifelike model of a feline animal resembling a cougar made various movements as he spoke.
Deep in the stage behind him, there was a large iron cage covered by a black cloth. Next to the cage was a sofa that looked very soft and comfortable.
A wizard wearing a clown mask sat on the sofa, guarded by several wizards with wands at their waists.
Noticing Vaughn, the clown mask raised his wine glass and gestured towards him.
Vaughn returned the gesture and casually found an empty table to sit at.
The clown mask was “Joker,” the person in charge of this black market. Vaughn had only interacted with him on the first day he came.
His impression was that the man was of average strength but very sociable.
At this point, the bidding had already begun on stage. The wizard in the Pukwudgie mask vigorously pounded his hammer: “Cat Leopard, Cat Leopard, 2500 Galleons… Very good, this friend offers 2700 Galleons, and… alright! This friend…”
The atmosphere quickly heated up, with people in the audience eagerly bidding.
Amidst the clamor, Joker, who was temporarily tied up, gave a look to the bar.
The House-elf acting as bartender behind the counter snapped his fingers, quickly mixed a drink, and brought it over: “Mr. Weasley, this is a gesture from Mr. Joker. Are you here for the same matter you mentioned before?”
Vaughn calmly pushed the wine glass away.
He didn’t particularly like to drink, and even less so in a bar located in a sewer. Hearing the House-elf’s question, he nodded: “Bring the person over!”
The House-elf bowed and left, soon returning with someone.
The person had their entire face covered with a large headscarf, making their features and age indistinguishable. Only by their build could one tell it was a tall, thin wizard.
The wizard, acting familiar, sat opposite Vaughn and extended his hand: “Hello, esteemed Mr. Weasley. You can call me ‘John Doe, representing the unknown, meaning someone like John Smith or Jane Doe in Chinese.'”
Vaughn shook his hand and smiled, “The one at the door is also named John.”
John shrugged: “Everyone in this line of work is called that. It’s simple and easy to understand. As you know, I’m an information broker. How can I help you?”
John appeared relaxed, but in reality, all his muscles were tense.
The more people understood about Jack Graves’s betrayal a few days ago, the clearer it was to them how terrifying this gentle-smiling, seemingly harmless young wizard was.
Not only his superior magical strength, but also the forces he commanded!
Unlike the gatekeeper John, this information broker John, who had been disturbed by the battle a few nights ago and watched from afar, had witnessed the subsequent fight with his own eyes.
The Purifiers summoned by Jack Graves.
The allied forces of the WAC and the Federation under Vaughn Weasley.
As an information broker, even just observing from afar was enough for John to recognize that among the allied forces were people from wizarding families like Greenwell, Beld, and McLean.
In the past few days, the intelligence community had basically confirmed that Vaughn Weasley had gained the allegiance of some old wizarding families in England—at least the younger generation of the North American branch, such as Oliver Greenwell, appeared in the battle that night.
What surprised everyone even more was that this was not all of Vaughn Weasley’s strength in North America.
Almost all information brokers had received definitive news from the Magical Congress—in this capitalist country, nothing could be done without the support of powerful figures—Vaughn Weasley had already extended his reach beyond Boston during his stay there.
A team composed of North American werewolves was approaching Boston!
If one thought about it further, the full moon night of the lunar calendar was fast approaching. At such a time, no one would believe that the werewolf team had formed spontaneously.
Nor would anyone believe that their continuous advance towards Boston had innocent intentions.
John’s own analysis suggested that the werewolf team, advancing at a leisurely pace, was actually a form of non-violent deterrence!
These kinds of big figures could not be provoked.
Thinking this, John’s attitude became even more humble, and he carefully said, “However, while we have local advantages in gathering information, our strength is really insignificant to you. If your request exceeds our capabilities…”
Seeing his cautious demeanor, Vaughn smiled, “Don’t worry, I just need you to do two small things.”
“You say.” John dared not relax.
“The first thing is, I need you to send someone to Arizona to investigate the habitat of Thunderbirds.”
“Uh…”
Hearing this request, and recalling Vaughn’s identity as a Potions Master, John hesitated, “It’s not that we refuse, but as you know, the situation isn’t great lately. Poaching Thunderbirds…”
Vaughn interrupted him: “It’s not poaching. I’m commissioned by a friend to visit a Thunderbird he once rescued there.”
Hearing this, John breathed a sigh of relief, and couldn’t help but curiously ask, “May I be so bold as to ask, who is this friend you speak of—”
At this moment, the auction of the Cat Leopard on stage had ended, and another “item” was brought out. The Pukwudgie mask loudly introduced:
“Next is the Mountain Rampage, also known as the Bird Dragon. According to Mr. Newt Scamander’s research, they have a certain kinship with Occamys…”
Noticing Vaughn’s expression.
John suddenly realized and complimented, “So your friend is Mr. Scamander. I must say, he is a great man who has made outstanding contributions to the wizarding world.”
