Hogwarts: What wicked thoughts could a little wizard possibly have?

Chapter 55 Dumbledore, you don't want Grindelwald... cough cough, Harry...

"You've been cursed with dark magic, and it's a very powerful spell. The thoughts of an evil dark sorcerer are influencing you."

"Look, Hermione doesn't even know what the Vanishing Charm is, yet you seem to vaguely know it. And think back to last night, don't you find it terrifying?"

"But Mrs. Pomfrey..."

"Don't interrupt. Right now, he can only influence you in a simple way, but soon you'll no longer be able to distinguish whether the thoughts popping into your head are your own or those of that dark wizard. Harry, you don't want to be replaced by someone else one day, do you?"

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his face pale and his eyes glazed over.

No wonder he'd been tossing and turning all night and couldn't sleep!

He seemed to see the little figure representing himself trembling deep within his heart, and an evil shadow stretching out a huge claw, grabbing him and devouring him. Then, the face with the gaping maw gradually transformed into his own likeness.

Harry shuddered violently, staring at Vaughn in despair, his lips pale and trembling: "Am I...am I going to die?"

"You won't die; there's magic that can save you."

Harry's hope was rekindled, and then he saw Vaughn's troubled expression.

His heart skipped a beat: "What's wrong?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know it." Vaughn sighed. "Those are two memory spells called Legilimency and Occlumency. Occlumency can save you, and Legilimency is a spell that helps you learn Occlumency."

Hearing such terrible news so early in the morning, Harry was terrified and quickly asked, "Then, where can I learn it?"

Hermione, who was listening nearby and felt a chill run down her spine, also looked at Vaughn expectantly.

Vaughn feigned deep thought and difficulty, and after a long while, he said, "Dumbledore knows both of these spells, but I don't think he'll teach them to us."

Why?

"Because they are taboo. Harry, Legilimency and Occlumency are not allowed to be taught to students."

Hermione couldn't help but say:

"But that could save Harry's life. Dumbledore can't just stand by and watch Harry die, can he?"

What a great girl, she's really good at playing the straight man!

Vaughn nodded seriously: "I don't believe Dumbledore would be so cruel either."

"Well then..." he said, taking out a pen and paper. "Harry, you write a letter to Dumbledore, and I'll mail it to him at lunchtime."

Harry took the pen and paper in a daze, wrote a letter as Vaughn asked, and then followed Hermione back to Gryffindor in a daze, as if he were sleepwalking the whole way.

He couldn't remember what Hermione had said to him or what he had done. When he regained consciousness, he was already sitting at the long table in the dining room, which made Harry's face even paler. Suspecting his neighbor of stealing his axe, he didn't think it was because he was too shocked and had been distracted.

Instead, he felt that Vaughn was right after all; his condition was getting worse!

Halloween was still a relatively grand banquet, and Dumbledore, who was rarely seen at lunch, was present at the professors' table.

Harry couldn't help but keep glancing at the respected headmaster, but unfortunately the headmaster didn't notice that he was talking to Snape.

"Severus, I need your help with something."

While masking his inner turmoil with a smile, Dumbledore said to Snape.

Snape had a wooden face and didn't want to talk at all. Every time Dumbledore came to see him, it was something bad.

But Dumbledore, having thought about it all night, was clearly not going to let him off the hook: "I want you to teach Harry..."

Just then, an owl suddenly flew by and interrupted him, dropping a letter in front of him.

Then it flew to the Gryffindor table, landed next to Harry, and pecked his hand.

Harry was frantically feeding the owl while secretly glancing at her.

Dumbledore frowned slightly. If he remembered correctly, that owl belonged to the Weasleys... But he should check the contents of the letter first!

He took a sip of pumpkin juice and pulled out the letter.

Snape breathed a sigh of relief and slowly picked up his knife and fork, finally able to enjoy his lunch in peace. He was really afraid that after hearing about Dumbledore asking him for help, he would feel nauseous and unable to eat.

Then--

puff!

While reading the letter, Dumbledore was so startled by what he saw that he spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice right in front of Snape.

A yellow sticky liquid stuck to Snape's plate, on the roast chicken that was supposed to be delicious.

Several professors nearby were stunned, watching Snape slowly turn his head, as if they could hear the sound of bones cracking and grinding together.

The hand holding the knife and fork had white knuckles and the dark eyes were filled with anger.

"Dumbledore—"

……

In the afternoon, Vaughn arrived at the principal's office in a cheerful mood.

"Good afternoon, Albus!"

His clear voice seemed to instantly bring the room, filled with portraits of the elderly, to life.

Old Headmaster Black relentlessly called out to the beloved Slytherin, and then the white-bearded teacher relentlessly rushed into Old Black's picture frame, tearing and wrestling with him.

The surrounding elderly people watched and encouraged them.

Only Dumbledore sat behind his desk with a sullen face.

Vaughn paid no heed to Dumbledore's gloomy expression, casually sitting down opposite him and saying with a smile, "I heard that at noon you spat a mouthful of pumpkin juice into Professor Snape's plate?"

"Then you'd better be careful, Albus. When I came up, the professor was trying to brew a pot of poison. He mixed eight-eyed spider venom, aconite, belladonna, dead man's bell... The smell alone could kill ghouls. I think you'd better keep him away from your food for a while."

Dumbledore's beard twitched as he looked at the smiling child before him, and he suddenly felt a sense of empathy for Snape's feelings every time he saw him.

Sin!

He said irritably, "That letter Harry wrote at noon, wasn't it you who instigated it?"

"How can you use such a derogatory term as 'incitement'? Although I lied to Harry, Voldemort's influence on him is undeniable. Albus, you wouldn't want Harry to one day turn into Voldemort's likeness, would you?"

Dumbledore didn't quite understand, but he sensed the malice in the words. He struggled to say, "But I'm considering having Snape..."

Vaughn shrugged: "Do you think Harry really wants to be taught by the professor, given his attitude towards him? In my opinion, Harry might have a mental breakdown after just a few lessons, and might even develop a rebellious attitude."

Dumbledore's eyes dimmed slightly; this was indeed a problem he hadn't considered.

He looked at Vaughn: "Severus is the wizard I know who is best at Occlumency, unless you can prove that you are more suitable than him."

Vaughn looked around and smiled. "No need to test me. You should have asked the Sorting Hat, right?"

Dumbledore did not speak.

No answer is the best answer. From the day Vaughn put on the Sorting Hat and discovered that it could see that he had Occlumency, he knew that Dumbledore would find out one day too.

As his talents become apparent, Dumbledore will eventually be unable to resist investigating everything about him, especially after he mentions Horcruxes.

"Everyone has their own secrets, Albus, as long as those secrets don't affect others." With that, Vaughn pulled out his wand.

"Protect the Gods!"

A white light, symbolizing warmth and light, bursts forth, and a translucent guardian spirit leaps out, soaring and jumping in the air.

Dumbledore watched silently, seemingly unmoved, but only those who knew him well knew that he had quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Yes, everyone has secrets, as long as those secrets don't affect others.

After a long silence, he finally spoke: "A very beautiful guardian deity, Vaughn."