Ron's Courage

He nudged the muddled Harry, wanting to talk and pull himself out of his depression. "Harry, what's wrong with you?"

Harry jolted.

When he came back to himself, he realized he had actually pulled out his textbook and was about to do his homework!

Terrifying!

He hurriedly banished Hermione's devilish voice from his ears and forced himself to shift his attention. "I-I was thinking about Halloween gifts!"

The moment the words left his mouth, Harry was startled. Halloween was almost here already? Time had passed that quickly?

By that logic, the year was practically over, wasn't it?

The sense of urgency Hermione had instilled in him nearly drove Harry to despair.

Ron, who had been trying to escape his depression, also let out the wail of a defeated dog.

Because he, too, suddenly remembered something—Halloween meant giving gifts!

And there was a problem: gifts cost money, and he had none...

That was the real tragedy.

Over the next few days, Harry had nightmares for several nights.

He dreamed that time flowed past him like waves, and in the blink of an eye, he had grown old and died before he had even had enough fun.

How could that be acceptable?

He went wild for several days and finally managed to forget Hermione's terrifying words, only to receive notice from Wood that Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the season would be held after Halloween.

Their opponent was Slytherin.

Harry's recently improved mood immediately sank back into gloom. What made him feel even worse was that, as Halloween drew closer, the states of his two best friends became increasingly strange.

There was no need to mention Hermione. Her time anxiety was beyond cure.

Strangely enough, even Ron had started acting weird. He spent all day staring blankly into space, and Harry occasionally heard him hiding in the bathroom and sighing.

The symptoms were worst every morning. Several times, Harry saw Ron staring at Vaughn's retreating back, eager to move yet hesitant and uncertain.

Harry had asked him several times, but Ron always mumbled his way through it.

Naturally, Vaughn had noticed Ron's unusual behavior as well.

But he had no mood to deal with it for the time being.

He had set aside Dumbledore's question from that day. His "interest" in Magical Creatures could wait; Potions research was the highest priority now.

So after that day, Vaughn spent all his time buried in the rich stores of materials in Snape's office.

The 5 Reputation Points the system had settled for the previous month were once again invested into the Scarpin Transfiguration Curse.

Because he had used it frequently over the past month, driven by Vaughn's spell talent of 7 and Potions talent of 10, the number in parentheses after the Scarpin Transfiguration Curse had risen by 1 a few days ago.

Thus, after investing 5 Reputation Points, the spell naturally leveled up.

[Scarpin Transfiguration Curse LV3 (0/32)]

With a thought, he closed the System Panel. Vaughn looked at the potion before him and recited the incantation.

Soon, familiar light and colors appeared before his eyes. As he waved his wand, the potion reverted toward its raw-material state.

But unlike before, his grasp of the Scarpin Transfiguration Curse had suddenly risen to an extremely profound level today.

He gradually became able to sense the process by which the spell took effect, and while casting it, he injected a little more magic power, positively influencing the result of its restoration.

The result was that the raw-material restoration caused by the spell did not continue deepening into a complete return to the materials themselves. Instead, it gradually began to glow with fluorescent light—

It was the glow of Traits' magic power!

Sensing the change in the room, Snape, who had been grading assignments, raised his head and looked at the fluorescent gleam flickering within the several clusters of liquid floating before Vaughn.

He could barely maintain his cold expression.

"You used the Scarpin Transfiguration Curse to restore a finished potion's Traits rather than its materials?"

He asked in astonishment, "How did you do it?"

Equally delighted, Vaughn gently directed the clusters of liquid into separate containers and answered cheerfully, "When I cast the spell, I added a small magic-power interference technique, as well as firm belief, Professor."

But Snape, who was also familiar with the Scarpin Transfiguration Curse, did not think it was a "small technique."

The more advanced and mature a spell was, the harder it was to alter. Any rash change, no matter how slight, could cause the spell to fail or even bring about unpredictable consequences.

Vaughn's success represented a remarkably deep mastery of the Scarpin Transfiguration Curse.

At the very least, it surpassed Snape's own!

Snape's feelings became complicated for a moment. The first emotion to surface was jealousy—jealousy of Vaughn's talent. It was an emotion anyone would feel when they saw someone else do better than them.

To a greater or lesser degree.

But what followed was joy.

It was a delight mixed with many complicated thoughts: joy at seeing a student achieve something as a teacher, joy at the first glimmer of hope for the Magic Extraction Method and a new potion.

And even more so because the one who had accomplished all this was an "evil Slytherin."

Snape had not forgotten Dumbledore's plan to cultivate the famous Potter... Hmph!

If he could cultivate Potter, couldn't I cultivate a Vaughn who would be even more famous than Potter in the Future?

The thought nearly melted the coldness from Snape's face, and even made his voice rise a little when he spoke the next moment. "Ten points to Slytherin, Vaughn. Very well done!"

"This isn't class, Professor. About awarding points..."

"I will explain it to Professor McGonagall."

The biased Snape did not think there was anything wrong with what he had done. Just like more than ten minutes later, when he cheerfully left his office and saw Harry's friend, the other Weasley, at the door.

He immediately made up an excuse without hesitation.

"Ron Weasley, because you were skulking around and spying on a professor's office, Gryffindor loses 2 points!"

Then he swept up his robes and glided away like a bat.

Ron stood there dumbfounded, so angry that his hands and feet trembled.

Could this world get any worse? When would honest people stop being bullied?

But when Vaughn heard the commotion outside, opened the door, and came out to ask, "Ron? What are you doing here?"

Ron immediately deflated like a punctured balloon.

He picked at the corner of his clothes and stammered, "You, um... could you lend... lend me some money? Halloween's almost here, and I want... I want to buy gifts for my friends... Mum said the sweets made at home would be enough, but I... I..."

By the end, his voice was almost inaudible. He did not dare look at Vaughn, yet he could not help hoping.

There was a glimmer in those evasive eyes.

Vaughn said nothing and looked him over from head to toe. Ron's hand clutching his clothes tightened further as he tried to summon his courage. "I-I can call you... b-big brother..."

Vaughn suddenly laughed.

He had not expected this guy, who had always been stubborn and refused to admit defeat, to lower his head today.

So sudden, so... brave!

Not everyone had the courage to bow their head to the bully who had tormented them all along just to give their friends Halloween gifts!

Vaughn had originally wanted to tease him, but suddenly lost interest. "How much do you need?"

Ron was both delighted and suspicious. He cautiously said, "Ten... ten Sickles?"

Vaughn took out the money from his satchel and gave it to him. Even after the silver coins landed in his palm, Ron still looked dazed, as if he were dreaming.

He could not help asking, "You... you don't have any conditions? You'll just lend it to me like this?"

Vaughn was speechless.

But then something occurred to him, and a smile slowly curled across his lips.

"Since you're insisting so strongly, I really do have something I need your help with..."

Seeing that familiar smile, Ron wanted to slap himself!