Chapter 92: The Net Of Destiny And The Legendary Path
Vaughn, who was preparing to leave, turned back and looked at Dumbledore strangely.
Old Dumbledore returned his smile.
After a pause, Vaughn said with a hint of sarcasm, “I thought you wouldn’t let me participate in the make-believe game you’ve prepared for the Boy Who Lived.”
He was self-aware enough about this; although he was cooperating closely with Old Dumbledore now, it was only because he hadn’t exhibited any dangerous behavior.
In reality, Vaughn and Dumbledore had always maintained a relationship of mutual trust and wariness.
Due to their differing ideologies, it was difficult for them to truly accept each other.
Vaughn was too “obsessed” with power; whether it was his pursuit of fame and reputation or his thirst for knowledge, it was essentially a pursuit of power.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, was too “divine.” He had seen too much of the complexity and deviousness of human hearts and wished for everyone to be as pure as possible.
Of course, both of them had, up to this point, exercised restraint regarding each other’s ideologies, and had even tacitly agreed not to interfere with matters the other was concerned with behind their backs, keeping everything out in the open.
Therefore, even though Dumbledore suspected that Barty Crouch Jr. might still be alive and that Vaughn had indeed recruited Crouch based on this, he didn’t delve deeper.
And every time Vaughn interacted with Harry, he would show his memories of those interactions to Dumbledore, because he knew Old Dumbledore greatly feared his ideology influencing Harry.
Maintaining distance, not touching each other’s weaknesses, and limited cooperation—this was the foundation upon which their fragile trust could endure.
Harry was Old Dumbledore’s weakness!
Hearing Vaughn’s sarcasm, Dumbledore merely smiled slightly. His gaze seemed to drift for a moment as if he were contemplating something, then he asked a seemingly unrelated question: “Vaughn, what do you think of destiny?”
Vaughn frowned slightly. He couldn’t yet perceive what destiny looked like, and he disliked making statements about things he didn’t understand.
Dumbledore didn’t seem to expect an answer either. He continued, “Months ago, you told me a quote from a Muggle movie: ‘Humanity is the sum of divinity and beastiality,’ which deeply moved me. For the past few months, I’ve been studying Muggle philosophy and literary works in my free time.”
“Among them, the view of one playwright particularly interested me. He believed that tragedies in literary works are typically divided into three types: one caused by villainous characters, another arising from coincidence, or what Muggles call ‘destiny,’ and the last, the most common and realistic, stemming from social relationships and class disparities.”
“What I write is not the result, nor is it retribution, but the cruelty of heaven and earth, the cruelty of the human world…”
Muttering this line, Dumbledore became lost in thought for a moment before standing up and extending his hand to Vaughn:
“Take my hand, child.”
Vaughn didn’t understand what Dumbledore was trying to do but complied nonetheless, stepping forward and taking Dumbledore’s old, slender hand.
Dumbledore brandished his wand.
He rarely uttered a spell, and the pronunciation sounded like runes, or rather, like Runic. Vaughn had only encountered this ancient language, now extinct even in Muggle society and among ordinary wizarding families, after enrolling at Hogwarts.
However, his self-study had been mediocre （ Runic was a third-year elective ）, because learning this language had nothing to do with one’s intelligence; it depended on whether you had a talent for divination—Runic had always been presented as prophecies.
Divination talent was the subject Vaughn least wanted to bring up.
But after more than half a year of study, Vaughn had gained some insight.
“It requires reciting the spell in Runic; is this a divination-related magic?” Vaughn asked, somewhat confused. As far as he knew, the Dumbledore family had not produced any seers.
He didn’t resist, merely observed quietly, feeling the mountain-like, immense magical fluctuations emanating from Dumbledore, who was waving his wand nearby.
In Vaughn’s perception, the old man beside him was like a terrifying radiation source at that moment, with concentric, invisible ripples spreading out from him, extending to about 3-4 meters away before suddenly disappearing as they approached the wall.
It seemed it could only spread that far, but that didn’t mean it was weak. In fact, within the range of the ripples, the air was affected by the terrifying power within, becoming so heavy it was almost solidified.
For a moment, Vaughn felt like an insect trapped in pine resin; he could clearly feel that he absolutely had no ability to resist Dumbledore at that moment.
He had always been clearly aware that his ability to negotiate with Dumbledore was merely taking advantage of Old Dumbledore being a “gentleman,” just as Old Dumbledore trusted his rationality, he also trusted that Old Dumbledore wouldn’t attack him.
As Dumbledore’s incantation grew more fervent, the frequency of the terrifying magical fluctuations and ripples spread out became more rapid, and their influence on the surroundings became stronger!
At one point, Vaughn’s pupils widened; he saw the colors in the world before him rapidly disappearing—this was no illusion.
Under the spell’s enhancement, the ripples of magical fluctuations emanating from Dumbledore had become strong enough to be visible to the naked eye. Vaughn clearly saw concentric ripples sweeping over both their bodies, over the decorative tassels hanging in the Headmaster’s Office, over the desk, carpet, dessert cabinet, candy, and the Pensieve…
With each ripple that passed, an object seemed to have its color stripped away.
It was as if an invisible hand, like peeling off glaze applied to an oil painting to enrich its colors, was stripping away the world’s magnificent outer layer, revealing its true form!
Even though the range was less than 4 meters, it was enough to shock Vaughn!
He watched everything touched by the ripples quickly turn into outlines composed of black, gray, and white, and saw transparent, thread-like strands, like spider silk, emerge from the surfaces of those objects.
Only now did Dumbledore stop his magic. He seemed greatly depleted; from this unique perspective, his face was pale to the point of being almost transparent.
“Hoo—” Dumbledore took several rapid breaths before finally recovering slightly. His voice became hoarse, and he said to Vaughn with self-deprecation, “I’m truly getting old. Decades ago, when I used this magic to observe the tapestry of fate, it was far less taxing than it is now.”
“The tapestry of fate?”
Vaughn observed the peculiar scene before him. The space with a radius of about 3 meters extending outwards from him and Dumbledore had completely lost all color （ In terms of hue, black, white, and gray represent no color or no hue ）.
Beyond its boundaries, the wall covered with portraits still looked normal, as if reality had suddenly been embedded in a black, white, and gray sphere.
Within this sphere, apart from him and Dumbledore, all objects had spider silk-like threads emerging from their surfaces. They extended outwards, intertwining, like… a net, stretching to the boundary of the spherical space before vanishing without a trace.
“…This is the tapestry of fate!”
Vaughn repeated Dumbledore’s phrase, but this time with a tone of certainty.
“Yes, this is what destiny truly looks like, and it’s what that playwright meant by the cruelty of heaven and earth, the cruelty of the human world!”
Looking at the crisscrossing threads in the space, Dumbledore sighed, “It penetrates into everything, being both the origin and the end of all things. Nothing can escape these threads. Muggles, of course, cannot see this; their so-called coincidences and opportunities of fate are merely part of true destiny. But even so, they have grasped certain fundamental aspects of destiny.”
“Such as its ruthlessness and cruelty!”
Dumbledore put away his wand and, with his free hand, called out, “Fawkes!”
Fawkes, who had disappeared somewhere since Vaughn’s arrival, appeared reluctantly on Dumbledore’s arm.
Fawkes spread its wings, and with a crackling sound, it Apparated them both to a corridor in Hogwarts, appearing outside a door.
Having lived in Hogwarts for several months, Vaughn was quite familiar with the castle. He knew that inside the door was Quirrell’s office.
The spherical space enveloping them still existed, and it didn’t seem to require much effort to maintain. Dumbledore even had enough energy to cast silencing and invisibility charms.
He walked through the door as if it were his own home, leading Vaughn into the office without encountering any obstacles.
“This is a little privilege of being the Headmaster; Hogwarts will not refuse a Headmaster’s request,” Dumbledore winked at Vaughn and said.
Vaughn paid no mind to the old man’s playfulness. He merely looked at Quirrell, curled up asleep on the sofa in the office.
As they approached, the black, white, and gray spherical space encompassed Quirrell’s body as well. Then, the colors on him were rapidly stripped away. Like the objects nearby, dense threads emerged from his body surface.
The difference was that the threads on him were clearly divided into two parts.
One part was relatively slender, almost invisible. They extended from all over Quirrell’s body and were distributed relatively evenly.
The other part was concentrated mainly around the back of Quirrell’s head, dense and thick, like the tail feathers of a fanned peacock, extending outwards from behind Quirrell and into the boundary of the spherical space.
“…Is that Tom’s destiny?”
Vaughn ignored Quirrell’s own slender destiny.
He looked at a thread extending from behind Quirrell’s head, which passed before his eyes.
He reached out his hand and looked at Dumbledore, who nodded. He then tentatively touched it.
But he touched nothing; his finger passed right through the thread.
Dumbledore sighed, “This is where many great wizards throughout history have felt puzzled and helpless. Destiny can only be observed and predicted, but not interfered with or changed.”
Looking at the back of Quirrell’s head, Dumbledore became somewhat lost in thought. Vaughn followed his gaze. There was one particularly thick thread there that looked different. All other threads, regardless of thickness, were smooth, thread-like objects.
Only this one had a spiral shape, as if it were made of two intertwined threads.
Vaughn made a guess, and Dumbledore, noticing his gaze and understanding his thoughts, said, “Yes, that is the intertwined destiny of Tom and Harry. They are stuck together… You know that prophecy, don’t you? The prophecy about the Dark Lord personally creating his nemesis.”
“I know a little,” Vaughn nodded.
Logically, this should be confidential. However, after a few months of interaction, Dumbledore had grown accustomed to Vaughn’s well-informed nature, although he was curious about how Vaughn managed to know such secrets.
He continued, “This is the marvel of the world; no one in the wizarding world disbelieves in destiny, but most people, like Muggles, have a narrow understanding of destiny, including the Dark Lord.”
“When he began slaughtering children born in July based on the prophecy, he didn’t realize that the act of learning about his destiny and subsequently carrying out the slaughter was precisely part of destiny itself.”
“You haven’t seen Voldemort at his peak, Vaughn. He’s not an old man like me; he’s in his prime. His magic, his spells—they far surpass certain limits, possibly even surpassing mine and…”
He paused, ultimately not uttering the name, and vaguely added, “Even such a powerful Voldemort couldn’t fight destiny. A miracle thus occurred—a legendary wizard who delved into Dark Arts died from the backlash of the Dark Arts he was most skilled at and proud of!”
“Sometimes, when I think about it, it’s both absurd and terrifying…”
Dumbledore’s beard trembled slightly, and he closed his eyes gently, “…That prophecy revealed that only the two individuals whose destinies are intertwined can kill each other!”
Hearing this, Vaughn finally understood why Dumbledore had shown him the tapestry of fate. He hesitated, “You mean, only Harry and Tom can kill each other, and no one else can?”
Dumbledore nodded in silence.
Vaughn’s expression wasn’t very good. This was certainly not because he had become so arrogant as to think he could defeat Socket Man or wanted to play the hero.
In his view, whether one had the strength or desire to accomplish something, and whether it could be accomplished, were two different concepts.
The choice for the former rested with oneself, while the latter basically sealed off all other paths, leaving only “can” and “cannot,” with no room for maneuver.
Vaughn disliked such situations.
The fundamental purpose of his pursuit of power was precisely to gain more options, not to entrust his life and safety to others!
“Believe me, when you try to defy destiny, it usually gets worse!”
Seeing Vaughn’s troubled expression and his deep thought, Dumbledore didn’t say more. He simply led Vaughn away from Quirrell’s office, “Let Quirrell sleep well. He… alas!”
Fawkes brought them back to the Headmaster’s Office. Dumbledore dispelled the magic and poured glasses of juice for both himself and Vaughn.
After a while, Vaughn gradually came to his senses. He knew that if destiny was truly immutable, Dumbledore wouldn’t have bothered showing it to him.
Was he specifically showing him to say, “Don’t bother trying, you’re not the protagonist anyway”?
Old Dumbledore wasn’t that bored.
Taking a sip of juice, Vaughn frowned and put it down; it was too sweet. He looked at Dumbledore, “Speak. You’re not here just to demoralize me. What are your thoughts?”
Dumbledore no longer beat around the bush. “Do you remember the speculation you told me earlier? Harry, because of that accident, has become Voldemort’s… Horcrux!”
Vaughn certainly remembered. It was around Halloween last year. After unexpectedly encountering Voldemort, to avoid a crisis of trust with Dumbledore and to strengthen their cooperation, he had deliberately dropped this bombshell.
“For the past few months, I’ve been thinking about how to solve this problem, and I’ve recently had some ideas… but if possible, I don’t want to use that method.”
At this point, Dumbledore didn’t elaborate, nor did he say what the method he had in mind was.
But Vaughn knew it was likely the method from the original story. If destiny was truly unchangeable, then facing the intertwined destinies of Voldemort and Harry, Dumbledore had very limited options.
Even setting aside destiny, from a relatively logical perspective, considering Harry and Voldemort’s ability to connect on sensory and memory levels, Voldemort’s soul fragment was clearly not just “stuck” to Harry’s soul.
Only by using the method from the original story, through a series of arrangements and sacrificing many people, allowing Voldemort to indulge in the pleasure of revenge and become lost in the joy of breaking free from destiny, would he “kill” Harry himself and destroy his last Horcrux. This was the most likely way to succeed.
Recalling the events he knew, Vaughn somewhat understood why Dumbledore didn’t want to use that method.
It was none other than the sacrifice being too great.
If they were to follow the destinies of Harry and Voldemort, their destinies would become a giant meat grinder, and everyone else would be involuntarily drawn into it until the outcome was decided.
He looked at Dumbledore, “So, you don’t want to follow destiny anymore and are preparing to resist it? If my thinking isn’t muddled, not long ago, you said that anything that tries to resist destiny will only make it worse.”
“No, not resist, but change the method…”
Dumbledore thoughtfully explained, “Vaughn, destiny doesn’t give a definitive outcome; it only sets certain conditions, such as ‘the Dark Lord and his nemesis, one of them must die by the other’s hand,’ rather than definitively stating that Voldemort will win, or Harry will win.”
“This is precisely the merciless and cruel aspect of destiny. It’s like a god with a wicked sense of humor, choosing a few children of destiny, setting the rules, and then watching the children of destiny fight and amuse themselves within those rules.”
“What we need to utilize is this uncertainty. Of course, I haven’t figured out how to do it yet, so the method I’ve thought of will continue to be pursued for now, but at the same time, I hope to introduce some variables… Oh, that’s a Muggle saying, it’s quite interesting.”
His gaze towards Vaughn was filled with sincerity, “You have the potential to be such a variable!”
If it were in the past, Vaughn would have immediately turned hostile and left. However, today, he was uncharacteristically patient, not because of Dumbledore’s request.
He asked, “Albus, the magic you just performed didn’t show my and your destiny. Did you see something?”
“…”
Dumbledore remained silent for a moment before hesitantly saying, “I don’t know…”
“What?”
“I don’t have a talent for divination, so I can’t clearly see the revelations of destiny. I only know that after you successfully pushed the Werewolf Affairs Committee forward, the tapestry of fate showed a disturbance… very subtle, but now that Tom’s and Harry’s destinies have been formed, normally, no new children of destiny would emerge.”
“Unless…”
Dumbledore’s sapphire eyes were bright and clear as an autumn sky, “Unless what you do in the future profoundly affects the entire wizarding world. The Werewolf Affairs Committee is just the beginning, but this beginning is enough to make the tapestry of fate respond to you!”
Vaughn remained silent.
Dumbledore didn’t rush him. Today was just an attempt. For this, he was even willing to let go of some of his principles. He asked Vaughn in a gentle tone, “Would you like to know why I, despite lacking a talent for divination, can master the magic to directly see the tapestry of fate?”
Vaughn looked up, “Are you trying to tempt me with power?”
“Don’t be so blunt. You could also say you’re attracting me with knowledge; it sounds better that way.” Old Dumbledore said, shamelessly.
He let out a cold laugh, but Vaughn had to admit he was a little tempted.
The direct observation of destiny from earlier was too marvelous; the most ethereal part of this world was laid bare before him so intuitively.
After a brief, strained stalemate, Vaughn asked Dumbledore with a stern face, “How did you do it?”
Dumbledore was very forthcoming this time, replying, “It stems from a transformation. When your magical strength reaches a certain level, your body and soul will undergo a positive change from the inside out, like what Muggles call evolution. You’ll feel like you’ve become a completely new life form, as if constructed from magic, a kind of…”
“Mythical creature?”
Vaughn finished the sentence.
“…Mythical creature… Hmm, a very good summary.” Dumbledore looked deeply at Vaughn, “It seems you’ve already contemplated this.”
Vaughn shrugged, “Of course. Your strength surpasses other wizards by too much. A simple difference in talent couldn’t be this large. Unless there’s an evolution in life form, making you a different species, I can’t think of any other explanation.”
Dumbledore laughed heartily. He was, at heart, a rather proud person. In his youth, only Grindelwald had caught his eye, which was why the two youths had hit it off so well.
Even after experiencing great changes and some shifts in his ideology, some things etched into his bones were impossible to let go of.
For instance, in his interactions with Vaughn, one could occasionally still hear him say things like, “We intelligent people…”
He was still like this now, saying cheerfully, “I enjoy talking with intelligent and excellent people, Vaughn. However, in the wizarding world, that state is called ‘legendary,’ and we generally call them Legendary Wizards.”
“I haven’t heard of that.”
“Because there are too few. In the latter half of this century, there was only Tom. As you know, no one wants to mention his name.”
Dumbledore said optimistically, “Of course, perhaps at the end of the century, you will become a new Legendary Wizard, Vaughn!”
Vaughn, skillfully avoiding his almost blatant enticement, asked, “So, the divination magic from earlier was something you learned after becoming a legend?”
Dumbledore didn’t mind and replied frankly, “It was at the moment of becoming a legend. It’s a very peculiar state; you can glimpse many secrets of this world and comprehend magic that you normally would never be able to learn.”
“Because of an old friend, I chose divination… This magic could be said to be something I created myself, even though I lack a talent for divination.”
Vaughn was silent for a moment, then asked, “Then, how should I reach that level?”
“With your talent, when you one day feel you can no longer improve, you will have touched its threshold. You can choose to delve deeper into a particular subject; no one can help you with this… However, I think you could continue to research Potions and Transfiguration; you are outstanding in both areas.”
“If everything goes smoothly, one day, you will naturally understand your direction of progress. We call it the Path to Legend.”
“Everyone’s Path to Legend is different.”
Having received his answer, Vaughn remained silent for a long time.
