Three weeks later, in the Room of Requirent.
It had reshaped itself into a cozy, book-lined study. The scent of parchnt and old wood hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of burning logs. Two walls were covered with shelves stuffed with tattered books and scribbled notes, most of them useless, clearly abandoned by long-gone students.
Directly across from the entrance stood a tall, arched window. Outside, storm clouds churned in an artificial tempest, lightning flashing and thunder rumbling. Yet inside, with the crackling fireplace and thick woolen carpet underfoot, the atmosphere was warm and almost luxurious.
On a plush sofa, Vaughn closed the book in his hands and rubbed his eyes.
"System," he called softly.
[Host: Vaughn Weasley]
[Magic Capacity: 438 (Average adult wizard: 500)]
[Talents: Charms - 7, Dark Arts - 6, Transfiguration - 8, Potions - 10, Herbology - 6, Divination - 2 (Max: 10)]
[Learned Spells: Occluncy LV5 (MAX)... Obliviate LV0 (0/2), Confringo LV0 (0/2), Disillusionnt Charm LV0 (0/2), Vanishing Spell LV0 (0/3), Sectumsempra LV0 (0/3)... Scarpin's Revelaspell LV0 (0/4), Patronus Charm LV0 (0/4), Fiendfyre LV0 (0/5)...]
[Potions: Cheering Potion, newly added - Enhancent Draught, Veritaserum, Wit-Sharpening Potion, Love Potion, Baffle-Buster Elixir, Polyjuice Potion...]
[Renown Points: 22]
Staring at the numbers, Vaughn blinked in sudden realization.
A whole month had flown by.
Ever since Snape had approved his request to access restricted books from the library's forbidden section, he had buried himself in study every mont he wasn't in class. The Room of Requirent had beco his second ho.
He finally closed the last book with a sigh of relief, shaking his head to dispel the dull ache from hours of reading. The newly listed spells and potions on his system panel sparked a surge of satisfaction in his chest.
For years, these were spells he had only heard about in whispers, ones far beyond his reach. Even common restricted spells like Obliviate or Confringo were rarely available to students. They were under Ministry regulation, requiring special approval or formal education in places like Hogwarts. For self-taught or rogue wizards, learning these was almost impossible.
Rogue wizards weren't rare in the magical world. So had been bitten and turned, werewolves, vampires. Others were foreign-born, undocunted dark wizards lurking around the edges of society.
Not every dark wizard wore a skull mask and pledged loyalty to Voldemort. Many were petty criminals, smugglers, or potion dealers operating in the grey zones of Knockturn Alley.
What surprised Vaughn most was that Snape had even allowed him to borrow a book on dark magic.
An Introduction to the Dark Arts was mostly filled with weak hexes and curses. But tucked into the back, in a different hand, soone had scribbled three entries: Sectumsempra, its counter-curse Vulnera Sanentur, and... Fiendfyre.
Vaughn didn't need Legilincy to guess who added that.
Only a forr Death Eater would leave behind such little gifts without flinching. Snape, of course.
Thankfully, the man hadn't gone so far as to let him study the Unforgivables, not yet, at least.
But Vaughn was more than satisfied. Without Snape bending the rules for him, it would've taken four or five more years to access any of this. And to find dark magic in the black market? He would've had to risk his life wandering Knockturn Alley, dealing with shady dealers and getting conned or worse.
His eyes lingered on the system interface. The rush of excitent began to fade.
"There's too many new spells," he muttered, massaging his forehead. "If I try learning all of them from scratch, it'll take forever. Best move is to level one or two up with renown points first, at least to beginner or proficient. Then I can finish the rest through practice."
He eyed the remaining 22 points with a scowl.
"Definitely not enough... Ti to generate more."
Without hesitation, he dumped all his reputation points into Scarpin's Revelaspell, boosting it straight to LV2 (10/16). It wasn't a flashy spell, but incredibly useful for his next goal, potion developnt. Potions would help him earn reputation and increase his monthly point payout.
As a student, this was the most efficient strategy. Points now ant power later.
Decision made, Vaughn pulled out a bottle of Scalp-Salve Solution and poured it into a goblet. He flicked his wand and spoke with crisp familiarity, as if he had perford the spell a thousand tis before:
"Essentia Revela!"
Instantly, his vision shifted. The potion shimred with a glow, revealing hidden layers of magical composition. Colors danced within the liquid, blending yet distinct, like a painter's palette before the brush touched canvas.
He felt it in his gut, the structure of the potion could be taken apart.
Another flick of the wand.
The bluish liquid began to separate, components swirling under an unseen force. The potion reversed itself, regressing from final product back into its raw ingredients: dried nettles, serpent fang, and others, their colors reappearing in succession.
The magic that had bound the potion unraveled, peeling the brew back to its base materials. Vaughn observed silently for a mont, then dumped the goblet's contents into the bin.
It was useless now. The Revelaspell could deconstruct, not reconstruct.
"What a brilliant spell," he murmured. "I wonder how Scarpin ca up with it in the first place."
"Sha he's been dead for centuries. Probably couldn't even find his ashes now."
With another flick, he cleaned up the ss, then stretched his arms and yawned. Ti to head back to the dorm and sleep.
Tomorrow, the real fun began: brewing, testing, and innovating potions.
He already had so ideas and he intended to make a splash.
He stepped out of the Room of Requirent.
And walked straight into Albus Dumbledore.
The most powerful white wizard of the age was standing in the hallway on the eighth floor, wearing a lavender bathrobe decorated with dancing cauldrons and a floppy nightcap that could only be described as ridiculous.
He wore an expression of mild surprise, as if Vaughn's appearance was a delightful coincidence.
"Ah, Mr. Vaughn Weasley. Out for a midnight stroll? Or perhaps... in search of a lavatory?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"...What?"
Vaughn blinked.
Dumbledore kept smiling. "Fascinating place, this hallway. I walked down here for decades without noticing a thing. Then one night, desperate to find a loo, a door appeared and inside, an entire chamber of toilets! All kinds. Marvelous selection. Been my favorite spot ever since."
He's playing dumb again.
Vaughn recovered quickly and gave a polite bow, returning the sa syrupy tone. "Truly a magical room, Headmaster. But I'm afraid I wasn't looking for a toilet. I'm still young. My bladder is strong."
Dumbledore didn't seem to notice the book Vaughn was subtly hiding behind his back. "Yes, well, age catches up to us all. Still, if you ever feel curious, I highly recomnd the room."
"I doubt I'll be back any ti soon."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"I've finished most of the reading I wanted. It's ti to start brewing. Building a theoretical frawork. I'm afraid I've reached the boring part, sir."
Dumbledore's smile deepened. "Professor Snape has been quite vocal in his praise. Says you're the Potions prodigy of Slytherin House."
Vaughn smiled modestly. "I'm just lucky to have your support. And his, of course. But it's getting late. I should head back. Goodnight, Headmaster."
"Goodnight, Mr. Weasley."
Two foxes, one old, one young, exchanged pleasantries like two gentlen on a stroll. Just an ordinary hallway. Just a casual chat.
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