How Much Do You Know?

As everyone left and the oak door to the office closed, Dumbledore clapped his hands. A wandless, silent spell spread out, and the portraits, which had been chattering away, suddenly fell silent.

They closed their eyes and stopped moving, as if their magic had suddenly been drained away!

Vaughn looked at Dumbledore, and Dumbledore looked back at him.

After a moment, Dumbledore smiled and began, "Vaughn, I have to say, your abilities have surprised me greatly. I..."

Before he could finish, Vaughn cut him off. "I thought you kept me behind to explain something."

Dumbledore fell silent.

"Explain why the Philosopher's Stone was placed at Hogwarts. Why someone wanted to steal it. Why it was so carelessly hidden on the fourth floor. And why..."

Vaughn stared at Dumbledore, his presence imposing. "...the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher you hired cast the Killing Curse on his own students. Why did you clear away the traces of the battle on the fourth floor and tell us not to let Professor McGonagall know? What exactly are you planning, Albus?"

To Vaughn, the final battle with Voldemort had been an accident.

Originally, he had only intended to follow Quirrell and see whether that incompetent fool could get past Fluffy and find the Philosopher's Stone.

Because earlier, in Dumbledore's office, he had seen the Mirror of Erised.

Now, Dumbledore had yet to place the Philosopher's Stone inside the mirror. Once he did, it would be difficult for Vaughn to get near it again.

Even though he understood that Dumbledore might have hidden the Philosopher's Stone elsewhere, with Quirrell and Voldemort leading the way, he did not mind secretly confirming it for himself.

But something unexpected had happened...

Vaughn had not expected that his and Ron's departure would lead Harry and Hermione to decide on their own to go looking for them.

Of course, that had merely been a minor oversight.

At first, he had not thought much of it, until Harry, whom he had supported on the way to the headmaster's office, spoke to him in a low voice:

"Vaughn, I... I think I can hear that man in black's thoughts... They came in fragments, but when you hurt him, I knew all of his anger and hatred... Also, when Hermione and I went to the fourth floor, I think we were influenced by him too..."

Harry wanted to ask Vaughn whether he had been afflicted by some kind of dark magic.

He did not notice Vaughn's strange expression.

What had caused the unexpected turn was not Harry and Hermione acting on their own, but the fact that Harry had received Voldemort's thoughts?

That should not have been too surprising, but the problem was that a month ago, Vaughn had personally tested it. The connection between Harry and the Horcruxes had not been established!

In the original story, it was only as Voldemort revived and the other Horcruxes gradually perished that the connection between the two sides became increasingly close.

He was very curious about why such a change had suddenly occurred.

Vaughn thought of a power that truly existed in this world—fate!

It was the power he understood the least, revered the most, and desired above all else.

This sudden accident made Vaughn feel that his previous decision—to linger on the outskirts of the vortex of fate surrounding the Savior and the Dark Lord, observing in silence—needed some adjustment.

So now, facing Dumbledore, he decided to strike first.

This string of questions greatly surprised Dumbledore. His bright blue eyes shone even more intensely. "You discovered his identity? You saw him? Did Harry see him too?"

Occlumency continued to operate as Vaughn met Dumbledore's gaze. He coldly curled his lips. "No, but that disgusting garlic smell is something I don't think I'll ever forget." Then he put on a suspicious expression. "You mentioned Harry? Does all this have something to do with Harry?"

Dumbledore said nothing.

His Legilimency had found nothing unusual. All he saw was the anger and doubt in a young wizard's heart.

And a desire for the truth.

If the person before him had been an adult, he could have intimidated him.

If it had been an idiot like Ron (Ron: ?), he could have played dumb.

But his several encounters with Vaughn had made Dumbledore understand that he was not an easy person to deal with. After thinking for a moment, he sighed. "It is a long story, Vaughn. I can tell you, but I hope you can keep it secret."

"Don't worry. My lips are sealed!"

Vaughn kept a straight face. He had kept those secrets for eleven years—had anyone ever heard him reveal them?

Snape did not know how he had made it back to his office.

His mind was in chaos.

Memories of the past clung to him once more like maggots on bone.

The fragrance of potion ingredients that usually intoxicated him could not settle his mind today. Scene after scene flashed before his eyes.

Many, many years ago, he and a green-eyed girl had lain by a pond.

Willow leaves had swirled around them like birds.

And ten years ago, a woman with the same green eyes had lain helplessly amid the ruins of the Potter home, while he held her cold body and wept bitterly...

He had thought that was the end. Though Dumbledore always said that the one who had killed her was not dead, Snape had always believed it was merely Dumbledore's nonsense—the persecutory delusions of a senile old fool.

But today, he had sensed it... the evil, filthy magic of his former master!

Boom!

Distracted, he did not know what ingredient he had added. The cauldron before him burst into flames, and a whole batch of Draught of Living Death was ruined just like that.

Snape merely stared blankly until a translucent blue phoenix flew in through the window, landed on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear.

The moment he heard the Patronus's message, the grief and fear in Snape's heart vanished, replaced by surging fury. He hurried to the headmaster's office, shoved open the door, and demanded in a cold, mocking voice:

"Dumbledore, great White Wizard, wasn't ruining me enough for you? You had to drag Vaughn into this too? What new trick have you come up with this time? Are you planning to train a more useful sidekick for our Savior? Or cultivate another double agent?"

Inside the office, the portraits remained silent with their eyes closed, and the entire room was deathly still.

Dumbledore stood before the Pensieve, seemingly lost in thought. Hearing Snape's accusation, he came back to himself and gave a helpless smile.

"Severus, you have known him longer than I have. You should know how intelligent he is."

Snape sneered. "So you told him about your plan? Did you also use Ron Weasley and Harry's friendship to get him to help you train the Savior? Heh, after all these years, you really haven't changed at all!"

Yet his words only made Dumbledore's expression more helpless.

Dumbledore considered his words before saying, "No, he was the one who offered to help me train Harry..."

Snape said, "...What nonsense are you talking about?"

"He said it was a deal..."