Chapter 86: Treasury And Learning Apparition
In the early morning, Vaughn woke up from his sleep.
Downstairs in the kitchen, tinkling sounds could already be heard. That was Sparky busy with chores. For the past two days, this house-elf had displayed a surprising burst of proactivity.
“Mr. Weasley healed the young master, so Madam can finally rest in peace. Sparky will repay Mr. Weasley on Madam’s behalf!”
These were the words she had repeated the most these past two days.
After washing up in the lavatory on the second floor, dawn had just broken.
Vaughn stepped out of the small house, breathing the morning air filled with the scent of dew and soil. He took a stroll around this Muggle community.
To conceal his son’s existence, Crouch had naturally chosen a place that was primarily quiet and secluded.
Next to the community was a park. Vaughn followed a path, climbed over the park’s rolling hills, and even saw a rather private golf course on the other side.
Places like these that catered to the wealthy were always invested with a sense of humanity in their construction. Looking at the spacious lawn, sparkling in the morning sun rising in the east, just a wall away, and the lush greenery that blocked outside views.
Vaughn nodded.
What a good place!
After surveying the area, Vaughn returned to Crouch’s house. Sparky had already prepared breakfast. Upon seeing him, she greeted him warmly, “Respected Mr. Weasley, Sparky has made your favorite pie, beef sauce filling with peas.”
“No potatoes in it?”
Vaughn harbored a deep aversion to potatoes, the English people’s favorite!
Sparky had clearly taken note of his likes and dislikes. She said enthusiastically, “Of course not! Sparky gave all the potatoes to Master!”
At the dining table, Crouch, with his napkin tucked in, looked at the small portion of pie and the oversized serving of fries on his plate, falling into deep thought.
Vaughn ate breakfast quite happily. To be fair, Sparky’s cooking was quite good, at least much better than Molly’s or the house-elves’ at Hogwarts.
This made Vaughn suddenly feel that buying a house-elf might not be such a bad thing…
After eating and having a cup of English breakfast tea, Crouch went to work, and Vaughn also had to start his “job.”
Sparky led him to the basement. In the basement, Little Crouch sat quietly in an iron cage, motionless.
Sparky looked at him and asked tearfully, “Mr. Weasley, when can the young master come out? Sparky has already prepared a room for him. He hasn’t slept in a warm bed for a long time and must miss it…”
“We still need to observe, Sparky.”
Vaughn replied, taking out his wand and casually turning a chair into a soft wool cushion. He sat down opposite Little Crouch.
Knowing that the “respected Mr. Weasley” was treating the young master, Sparky dared not disturb them and quietly Apparated away. Vaughn also adjusted his emotions and closed his eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, he was at Hogwarts.
Barty Crouch Jr.’s memory of Hogwarts!
A hazy white light, belonging to memories, enveloped the ancient castle. Vaughn looked around. He had appeared on the gallery behind the castle leading to the Forbidden Forest.
There was nothing else around, just a thin, somewhat introverted-looking boy, sitting on the edge of the high gallery, his legs dangling over the cliff and the lake below.
Vaughn walked up to him, “Barty, looking at the scenery again?”
The boy raised his head, glanced at him, and then lowered it again, “Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore.”
That’s right, in Little Barty’s eyes at this moment, Vaughn was Dumbledore, the image he had appeared as yesterday.
The boy in front of him was Barty Crouch Jr.’s persona embodiment—a memory within a memory, lacking intelligence and unable to communicate.
Therefore, Vaughn used persona embodiment to control and deceive Little Barty’s true personality, trapping him within his memories.
Vaughn was trying to see if he could, through this method, make Little Barty open up.
He still had no clue how to turn around a soul already corrupted by Dark Arts. For now, he could only try to indirectly influence his personality through memories, and then, starting from his personality, trace back to the essence of Little Barty’s dark side.
This line of thought stemmed from Vaughn’s experience practicing the Patronus Charm.
Dumbledore believed in the “power of love.” That was not just an empty phrase. In the magical world, spells like the Patronus Charm used “love,” or rather, a person’s beautiful, positive side.
Vaughn also believed that no one was inherently evil; everyone should have a pure land within their hearts.
A pure land was hard to change. Vaughn believed it was the opposite of darkness. If he could find it and harness its power, perhaps it could counteract the corruption of Dark Arts.
However, some people’s inner “pure land” might be suppressed to be very weak due to their upbringing, Dark Arts, and other factors.
So weak that it was hard to find.
Little Barty was not like Harry, who lacked life experience. He was a middle-aged man. Over 30 years of accumulated memories made his mind world as vast as the sea, not to mention that his mind had long been distorted by Dark Arts.
The Dark Arts had made most of his memories seem vague, full of strangeness and danger.
This period of his life at Hogwarts was a memory that Vaughn had painstakingly found to be relatively stable.
Vaughn sat beside the boy and patiently talked with him, “When people are troubled and in pain, they always like to find a quiet place to think alone and lick their wounds… Barty, what is troubling you?”
Little Barty didn’t answer, his legs dangling from the gallery swinging slowly in the air.
After a long pause, he asked, “Headmaster Dumbledore, are we in my dream right now?”
“Hmm? Why do you think that?”
“Because I remember you never spoke to me privately, yet for the past two days, wherever I go, you always appear before me…”
Vaughn remained unperturbed. He had placed Little Barty into this memory, attempting to shape this memory into Barty Crouch Jr.’s dream.
In dreams, people usually lacked rationality and were most likely to let down their guard.
He smiled gently, “Of course, Barty. You can consider this a dream, a delusion. Here, you can tell me anything you want, anything you think.”
Little Barty looked up at him, remained silent for a moment, and then said dejectedly,
“I failed my exams, and Father was very angry… He demanded that I get 12 ‘O’s in my O.W.L.s, but I couldn’t do it.”
O.W.L.s are Ordinary Wizarding Level exams. Generally, an ‘A’（Acceptable） is sufficient to pass. Above that is an ‘E’（Exceeds Expectations）, and the highest is an ‘O’（Outstanding）.
“But you passed 12 subjects, that’s already incredibly impressive.”
Vaughn, imitating Dumbledore’s tone, looked at Little Barty and probed with a veiled expression, “In my teaching career, only Tom Riddle had better results than you!”
As the name Tom Riddle was mentioned, the dejected Little Barty suddenly clutched his head.
Vaughn asked with concern, “Barty, what’s wrong?”
“Headmaster… my head hurts so much…”
As Little Barty’s head began to ache, dark clouds suddenly gathered in the sky.
Vaughn looked up at the rapidly appearing clouds. They pressed down ominously from the horizon, with flashes of lightning flickering within. Soon, they approached the sky above Hogwarts.
Rolling thunder boomed overhead.
Vaughn remained composed. This was intentional. Little Barty’s personality was merely obscured, not erased. As long as someone he had strong feelings for was mentioned, it would trigger his memories.
Undoubtedly, Voldemort held an extraordinary position in Little Barty’s heart.
A faint light flickered in Vaughn’s eyes, and his voice became gentle, filled with trustworthy familiarity, “Barty, do you remember Tom Riddle?”
In his voice, Little Barty’s eyes became vacant.
“…Yes…”
“What is your impression of him?”
“He… is more like my father than my father…”
“Then, are you willing to open your heart to him? Tell your master, your most admired Dark Lord, where your happiness and joy are hidden?”
“I…”
Little Barty hugged his head again, groaning in pain.
Vaughn grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him, the faint light in his eyes growing stronger, “Barty, look at who I am?”
Little Barty blinked in confusion, then a look of ecstasy spread across his young, tender face.
He suddenly hugged Vaughn’s leg, “Headmaster? Master? Is it you, Master?”
“Yes, Little Barty. Answer my question, where are your happiness and joy hidden?”
“Okay, Master. I think… I think… I will remember…”
The dark clouds in the sky dissipated. Amidst Little Barty’s neurotic murmurs, the remembered Hogwarts was once again shrouded in a hazy light.
Vaughn took a step back, and the scene instantly shifted. He appeared in front of the Crouch ancestral home.
The small, still-old house, its door wide open. Inside, it was no longer pitch black, but filled with the same hazy light as the Hogwarts castle just moments ago.
In the center of the house stood an adult-looking Barty Crouch Jr., eyes tightly shut.
His eyeballs rolled violently, as if he were experiencing a deep and intense dream.
A mass of misty fog hovered over him, like a parasite. Wisps of mist extended from the surface of the fog, sinking deep into Barty Crouch Jr.’s body.
As the eyeballs under Little Barty’s closed eyelids moved more and more frequently, a thread of mist was pulled out of his body.
Along with it came a memory scene, entwined with black mist.
In that scene, Little Barty and several other people were waving their wands, casting spells on a couple at their feet. The sounds of the spells, distorted by the black mist, transmitted outwards:
“Cruciatus Curse!”
The couple screamed in agony, but Little Barty was agitated, angry, and enjoying the pleasure of torment, “Longbottom, tell me, where have you hidden my master?”
The couple did not answer, or rather, Little Barty didn’t care if they answered.
He just wanted to hear their screams!
“Cruciatus Curse!”
Vaughn watched the entire torture process with a blank expression, then pushed the memory scene back into Little Barty’s body.
“Failed again… This time the guidance was more successful than yesterday’s feigned concern from Dumbledore. It quickly induced Little Barty to recall memories, but not the ones I wanted.”
“His mind, distorted by Dark Arts, has even twisted the definition of emotions… His current happiness and joy are accompanied by a perverted pleasure derived from killing and torture, with no connection to the ‘pure land’…”
Thinking this, Vaughn was not discouraged.
As he had told Crouch, this was a long-term project. He hadn’t expected to find a solution quickly. All current attempts were trial and error, accumulating experience for the future.
Vaughn glanced again at the persona embodiment parasitic on Little Barty’s true personality.
After only two days, it had already been stained gray.
Silently calculating, Vaughn withdrew from Little Barty’s mind and returned to the basement.
Inside the huge iron cage, Barty Crouch Jr.’s body still sat motionless and oblivious. Vaughn took out his notebook and recorded the recent experiment:
“Fourth experiment failed. It can be confirmed that the corruption of Dark Arts is comprehensive, even distorting and skewing the definition of emotions… For the next experiment, we can consider Mr. or Mrs. Crouch.”
Vaughn paused here.
Would it be inappropriate to use the dead?
However, this moment of conscience lasted only an instant before he cast it aside.
“…Mrs. Crouch might have had a more positive significance in Little Barty’s life. Next, I will try to find memories related to Mrs. Crouch…”
“The persona embodiment still needs further refinement, especially in anti-contamination and filtering. In less than three days, the persona embodiment implanted in Little Barty’s brain has already shown signs of corruption. This timeframe is too short, far from sufficient for either treatment or personal use…”
With extensive notes, taking up 5-6 pages, Vaughn recorded his observations and thoughts from the experiment in his notebook.
After resting for a while, he began again.
He stopped in the evening.
When Crouch returned from work, Vaughn had just emerged from the basement. Continuously searching through Barty Crouch Jr.’s heavily contaminated memories was indeed arduous, but not without its rewards.
For example, magic!
After dinner, Crouch, intending to see his son, hadn’t even spoken when Vaughn said, “Barty, do me a favor tonight.”
“What?”
“I want to learn Apparition. Yesterday, I found memories of him practicing this spell in your son’s brain, and I suddenly remembered that I had completely forgotten to learn it.”
Vaughn had indeed forgotten. The main reason was that he had been at Hogwarts, where a large area, including Hogwarts and its surroundings, was covered by Anti-Apparition Charms, making it impossible to learn.
Crouch was dumbfounded. He hesitated, “Shouldn’t we wait a while? This is a Muggle community, and even though I chose a secluded spot, there are still many Muggles…”
Vaughn interrupted him, “There’s a golf course nearby. I surveyed it this morning, and it has excellent privacy. There are no Muggles there at night, so it’s perfect for me to practice.”
He paused, then added, “I also want to practice the Fiendfyre Curse, some minor curses, and so on. Little Barty’s brain is truly a treasure trove of Dark Arts… Oh, and you know All Spells End, right?”
Crouch really wanted to say he didn’t.
Apparition was one thing, but he even wanted to practice Dark Arts… He couldn’t imagine what would happen if there were any accidents like losing control.
But… he couldn’t refuse Vaughn right now!
At night, Crouch went out again temporarily and returned with several vials of potions.
They were in small dropper bottles, containing only about a mouthful.
“This is Spermaceti, a very potent healing medicine…”
Crouch attempted to introduce it.
Vaughn interrupted him, “I know what it is, Barty. Don’t forget, I’m a Potioneer.”
“Oh… I always forget… Your age always makes people… I’m sorry!” Crouch said dryly.
Vaughn picked up a bottle of Spermaceti and examined it under the light.
Looking at the small amount of essential oil, soaked with leaves and roots, in the tiny dropper bottle, he showed a dismissive expression, “Inferior craftsmanship. How much did you pay?”
“…10 Galleons.”
“Tsk!” Vaughn stopped himself from saying more.
He knew why Crouch had prepared Spermaceti. It was to prevent splitting, the most dangerous accident when practicing Apparition.
Specifically, it meant that the Apparition Spell was successful, but only a part of the wizard’s body was transported, with the other part remaining in place or having gone somewhere unknown.
Throughout history, countless wizards had proven the dangers of splitting with their blood and lives. Their bizarre methods of splitting had even been compiled into a thick book in the wizarding world.
Spermaceti was the best known countermeasure for splitting at present. Its raw material was Comfrey—unlike the common rue plant known to Muggles, the Comfrey that could extract essential oil was a magical herb.
Its inherent magic endowed it with extraordinary healing effects, capable of rapidly healing wounds if splitting occurred.
Provided, of course, that the wizard could find their separated body parts and reassemble them.
This was also why Vaughn asked Crouch to help him practice Apparition. Although Vaughn believed it was unlikely he would split, having someone to watch over him could at least prevent the worst-case scenario.
Deep in the night, Vaughn took Crouch to the place he had scouted: the nearby golf course.
The golf course, approaching midnight, was already dark. The Muggles had long since finished their work.
But the cautious pair still deliberately chose a secluded, flat patch of grass, walked around it, and cast banishing charms and protective spells against Muggles.
After casting the spells, the two returned to the center of the lawn. Crouch chuckled self-deprecatingly, “The Ministry of Magic has regulations. To learn the Apparition Spell, wizards must be adults and need guidance from an instructor licensed by the Ministry of Magic… Today, I’ve broken at least 20 laws!”
Vaughn shrugged, “The day you brought Little Barty out of Azkaban, you broke all the Ministry’s laws!”
Crouch shut his mouth, feeling stifled.
After a long while, he asked dryly, “Is there anything else to prepare? Shall we start now?”
“Nothing to prepare. Let’s start!”
After more than a month of experience, Vaughn slowly realized that with the Full Body-Bind Curse and the Disarming Charm reaching LV5 (maximum level), there were still some subtle hidden effects beyond these two spells.
Casting any spell required the invocation of magic power and emotions. The two max-level spells had given Vaughn a lot of similar experience out of nowhere.
Now, he could gather magic power more swiftly, and his emotional output was more stable than before.
This manifested as him making fewer mistakes when casting spells.
This greatly helped him learn new spells, so there was indeed nothing else to prepare.
Crouch nodded and walked about three meters away, drawing a circle on the grass with his wand, “The most important secret to Apparition is the three D’s. The first is—Destination（Destination）.”
He pointed at the circle he had drawn nearby and said, “Now, focus your attention on this circle. Do not waver, hesitate, or be distracted. Let it fill your vision, your mind…”
Vaughn listened attentively. Confidence and arrogance were two completely different attitudes. Even though he believed he was ready to learn spells, he still listened carefully.
And for him, a master of Memory Magic, this kind of content was not particularly difficult.
Soon, following Crouch’s explanation, Vaughn cleared all distracting thoughts from his mind, concentrating all his attention on the circle about one meter in diameter, firmly imprinting its existence in his heart.
“The second is Determination（Determination）. Gather your emotions, let your desire to occupy this circle, your firm resolve to traverse space, flood your entire being, leaving no insignificant corner untouched…”
Listening to Crouch’s explanation, Vaughn easily summoned the corresponding emotions, suppressing all other feelings at that moment.
He only felt desire and determination surge from his mind.
Thoughts and emotions influenced the body at this moment. His heart beat violently, pushing blood to all parts of his body.
His body therefore grew slightly warm, his mind clear, yet with a slight dizziness caused by excitement.
His gradually muffling hearing caught Crouch saying the last D: “Deliberation（Deliberation）. Are you starting to feel heat all over your body? Now, release your magic power, raise your wand, and spin in place. During this process, maintain your current emotional state and the flow of magic power. Pay attention to being calm, not too tense, not too relaxed, but steady and calm… Listen to my command, I will count to three. One!”
Following Crouch’s instructions, Vaughn released his magic power and spun in place.
When Crouch said “One,” he had just completed a smooth, calm rotation.
Then, an incredible thing happened. In Vaughn’s perception, he “saw” ripples emanating from his surroundings as he spun. It wasn’t the air or magic power that was being disturbed, but something else, something that might not have a material or energetic form, but was conceptual.
“Space…?”
The thought flashed through his mind and was gone.
“Two!”
Fully focused, Vaughn tried his best to control himself, concentrating, determined, and calm, spinning faster and faster.
The ripples around him grew stronger and more frequent, like a water surface being buffeted by strong winds, or like a transparent plastic sheet indented and springing back after a ball dropped from high altitude, vibrating continuously.
“Three!”
As Crouch uttered the final word.
Vaughn’s spin and the ripples around him seemed to break through a critical point at that instant.
Crackle—
“Space” shattered. Vaughn felt as if he had plunged into a narrow pipe. Everything before his eyes rapidly became bizarre, everything stretched and distorted, the entire world seemed to turn into a giant washing machine.
And he was inside it, spinning madly around a central point.
