Before mastering enough magic, Vaughn had never once considered facing Voldemort alone.

But that didn't mean he planned to abandon the mission.

The system only said he needed to save the unicorn in the Forbidden Forest. It never said he had to do it personally.

And this was Hogwarts. With Dumbledore around, why in Merlin's name would he throw himself at Voldemort like some heroic idiot?

It was already dusk by the time Vaughn and Hagrid made it out of the Forbidden Forest. After parting ways at Hagrid's hut, Vaughn took a moment to compose himself. He adjusted his expression, furrowing his brow with just the right amount of tension and urgency, as if something dreadful had just happened.

Then he went looking for Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Weasley, what are you--"

"Professor, please take me to the Headmaster. I have something very important to report!"

Startled by his serious tone and pale face, McGonagall blinked at him for a few seconds, then finally nodded and led him up to the eighth floor.

As Deputy Headmistress, she of course knew the password to the Headmaster's office.

"Chocolate Frog."

The spiral staircase rotated open. Vaughn followed her up into the circular, warmly lit office. It was his first time here.

A grand spiral staircase led further up to what was likely Dumbledore's private quarters. Along the curved wall stood shelves packed with books and mysterious magical trinkets. In front of the tall arched windows, a cluttered desk was stacked with scrolls, strange devices, and what looked suspiciously like a sock puppet made of yarn.

A golden perch stood to the side, and on it rested the magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, eyes closed in rest. As soon as they entered, Fawkes stirred and blinked at them.

So did several of the portraits hanging on the walls.

"Ah, our little Slytherin prodigy has come to visit. Delightful," said one of the paintings, sounding far too pleased.

Vaughn glanced at it and guessed the speaker must be Phineas Nigellus Black, the only Slytherin headmaster in Hogwarts' history, and, by many accounts, the least popular.

And to make matters worse, the Black family was nearly extinct.

Vaughn gave a polite nod and then turned toward the fireplace.

There sat Dumbledore, relaxed in a plum-colored dressing gown, knitting something long and woolly with pink and green stripes.

"Ah, Minerva! Mr. Weasley! Perfect timing," Dumbledore greeted them without turning. "Tell me, do you think this pattern's too gaudy? I spent nearly half an hour in the Muggle department store trying to choose wool. Gave myself a headache."

"Ahem. Albus!"

McGonagall shot him a sharp look. "Mr. Weasley says he has something important to tell you."

Dumbledore finally looked up with curiosity.

Their last encounter hadn't been exactly friendly. Vaughn had coolly turned down the Headmaster's subtle probing.

Dumbledore assumed the boy would keep his distance for a long time.

Apparently not.

Vaughn gave a respectful nod. Under the gaze of McGonagall, Dumbledore, and several attentive portraits, he opened his satchel and carefully placed a small bottle on the desk.

Dumbledore leaned forward. "And what, may I ask, is this?"

"Unicorn blood, Headmaster."

At that, Vaughn drew his wand and murmured a Revealing Charm.

White light flared, and swirling gray mist rose from the bottle. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Several of the portraits gasped in unison.

Even Dumbledore's cheerful expression vanished. He stood, walked to the desk, and leaned in to examine the bottle more closely.

"Minerva," he said softly without looking at her, "you may return to your duties. Mr. Weasley has indeed brought something urgent to my attention."

McGonagall gave Vaughn one last glance before departing.

Once the door shut, Dumbledore looked up, his eyes now sharp and unblinking.

"Where did you find it, Mr. Weasley?"

Those eyes… they were unsettling. Far too youthful. Bright enough to peel back your thoughts like layers of parchment.

Legilimency?

Vaughn could sense the gentle, probing wave of magic brushing against the surface of his mind. But his Occlumency held firm. The spell couldn't get through.

So you're just trying to feel my emotions to check if I'm lying… smart.

Without batting an eye, Vaughn replied calmly, "In the Forbidden Forest."

He then explained how he'd gone to see Hagrid, had stumbled across an injured unicorn, and had collected the blood out of concern. The blood's strange magical signature had alarmed him.

"No creature in the Forest, not even a werewolf, could have cursed a unicorn like this. Only a wizard could do such a thing."

"You see, I've done a fair bit of study in Potions. Unicorn blood is dangerous, of course, cursed, but not without its… enthusiasts. Especially those who don't mind dabbling in forbidden magic. Usually these potions are designed for-"

"-immortality," Dumbledore finished quietly.

He reached out. No incantation, no wand.

His hand slipped through the light and mist, and he plucked a strand of the gray magic from the air like pulling thread from a cobweb.

Vaughn watched, amazed. Not even a ripple of magical energy. The spellwork was so refined it was practically invisible.

Dumbledore examined the mist, then finally released it with a flick of his fingers. It evaporated instantly.

"This is serious," he said at last. "Very serious indeed. I'll need to inspect the site myself."

He raised his hand. "Fawkes."

The phoenix let out a quiet chirp and soared down, talons gripping the Headmaster's forearm.

"There are refreshments on the desk, Mr. Weasley. Please help yourself. I'll be back shortly."

With that, Dumbledore vanished in a flash of fire. Vaughn didn't flinch. He knew Hogwarts' anti-Apparition spells didn't apply to phoenixes or other magical creatures like house-elves.

Besides, he was starving.

He stepped around the desk and found a silver tray floating toward him. A small mountain of sweets was stacked on it.

He grabbed a chocolate frog and took a bite.

As he munched, he heard soft voices murmuring behind him.

"Hey, boy. You there."

Vaughn looked up.

It was Headmaster Black again. The portrait of the sour-faced man was squinting at him with a mischievous grin.

"Spotted the black magic in that unicorn blood, did you? Clever little snake. Don't look so surprised. I've never been one to frown on the Dark Arts. Frankly, I'm glad you've been studying them. A Slytherin who doesn't know a bit of dark magic? Hardly worth the name."

He winked.

"I've got a proposal for you."

Vaughn raised an eyebrow.

Black leaned forward, dropping his voice conspiratorially. "You want to learn more? Really powerful stuff? I'll tell you where the old Black family home is. Swear on Merlin's beard, the place is full of forbidden knowledge. Dangerous, terrible, wonderful knowledge. All you have to do is--"

"YOU BLOODY MENACE!"

A blur of white beard and fury suddenly launched into Black's painting.

An older, bushier wizard from another portrait tackled him with shocking force.

"You were useless when you were alive, and now you want to corrupt children? I should've burned your canvas!"

"Professor! Stop! I'm already dead, what more do you want?"

The two portraits began scuffling violently, their frames rattling as they rolled and swung at each other.

Vaughn sat back with a grin, happily chewing his chocolate as he watched the chaos unfold.