But to Dumbledore's surprise, when he arrived at the Slytherin common room, he was met with a strangely pleasant scene.
The dormitory glowed with a warm ambiance. Behind them, the Black Lake shimmered peacefully, fish swimming lazily, water plants swaying gently. A magical incense wafted through the air, giving the room a sunlight-like warmth. On the small table between the two, a blue flame gently heated a teapot.
Rita and Vaughn sat across from each other, each holding a cup of steaming milk tea. Vaughn was introducing the drink with a casual air.
"I don't really like those strange wizarding drinks. Muggle inventions, on the other hand, are more to my taste and hobbies—"
Noticing movement at the doorway, Vaughn turned with a surprised expression. "Headmaster! Why are you here?"
Rita also turned. Her face was calm, as if she were lost in the aroma of the milk tea. She rose slightly to greet him.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, good morning."
Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, good morning to you as well, Rita. I just dropped by to see how the interview is going."
He strolled up behind her, glancing at the parchment floating nearby. The contents seemed perfectly normal—nothing out of place.
However, the quick-quill floating beside it looked oddly dispirited.
Perhaps it was frustrated at being unable to invent dramatic stories? Dumbledore mused over the thought with amusement.
Seeing no signs of trouble, he exchanged a few pleasantries with the two of them and then turned to leave. Once his figure disappeared, Hexby—who had been peeking in from the door—entered to confirm the coast was clear.
Vaughn waved a hand, and the dormitory door shut automatically. Rita's expression instantly dropped, becoming gloomy and tight with fear.
Vaughn sipped his milk tea and said with a gentle smile, "Rita, cheer up. You should be grateful I still have a use for you. Otherwise, you'd be flitting around the Forbidden Forest by now."
Rita forced a smile, not daring to show a single trace of resistance. Or rather, she had once dared.
A few hours ago, when Vaughn released her from the glass jar, she had vowed to cast a memory-erasing spell on him the first chance she got.
But Vaughn had planted some unknown curse within her mind. The moment she formed the thought of resisting, an unbearable stabbing pain erupted in her head—so fierce and sudden that she screamed aloud, as if a phantom blade had torn through her brain.
She had never experienced such agony before.
But even that wasn't the end. When she regained consciousness, she found herself transfigured into part of the wall. The air grew thinner with each breath, and the creeping dread of suffocation pushed her to the edge of collapse.
She knew Vaughn couldn't actually kill her—not when she had entered Hogwarts through official Ministry channels. If she disappeared, both Hogwarts and the Ministry would launch an investigation.
But there were things more terrifying than death.
She remembered Vaughn's words from the previous night—his casual threat to erase her memory of being a witch and leave her a bug forever.
The mere thought of that fate chilled her blood. In comparison, her current situation wasn't so bad. At least she was still human. Not some brainless insect.
Being a lackey might be humiliating, but everyone had a first time.
With that thought, Rita's expression relaxed a little.
Vaughn caught the change and chuckled lightly. "See? Cooperating with me isn't so bad."
He reached out, and the floating parchment landed in his hand. The top line read:
"Mr. Weasley, born into a pure-blood family, like his father, showed great interest in Muggles. He enjoyed Muggle books, food, and technology—even more passionately than his father. He told me the wizarding world had long since fallen behind—"
Vaughn shrugged. "You like to embellish stories, don't you? Straightforward interviews aren't exactly headline-worthy. As long as you keep it eighty percent true and twenty percent fiction, I'm happy to keep working with you. I'll even feed you a few controversial sound bites—just enough to spark discussion without doing real damage."
Rita remained silent for a moment, then slowly let out a long breath.
She had accepted her fate. She forced a smile, attempting to recover some of her former composure. Even as a lackey, she still wanted to retain at least a shred of her dignity.
But the threat posed by the boy in front of her genuinely made her uneasy. When she spoke, her voice unconsciously dropped: "So, do you think the current interview content is appropriate? Your remarks about the wizarding world being backward compared to Muggles might provoke hostility from some pure-bloods—"
Vaughn laughed. "Which pure-blood isn't already hostile toward Weasley? It doesn't matter. Just write according to what we agreed on!"
He then listed several points for her to keep in mind.
For instance, she could exaggerate his bias toward Muggles, but she must not involve his family or friends. She could also report on his opinions regarding certain outdated systems in the wizarding world—those were his true beliefs, and Rita was free to use stronger wording if she wished.
Vaughn intended to craft a more radical, pro-Muggle image for himself.
Finally, he instructed Rita, "But pay attention: your next reports should focus on the disposal of the Wolfsbane Potion. You need to write about the plight of werewolves, and what issues may arise if the Ministry of Magic takes control of it."
At those words, Rita's eyes lit up. She was smart—after thinking it over, she understood what Vaughn was implying.
"You suspect the Ministry of Magic intends to misuse the Wolfsbane Potion?"
Vaughn didn't answer.
But Rita's talent for narrative took over instantly. A complex political drama had already begun unfolding in her mind, and her hands trembled with excitement. Still, she hesitated again. A flicker of cunning passed across her heavily powdered face.
"But if I'm targeting the Ministry, my article may not pass the Daily Prophet's editorial review. You do know their biggest financial backer is the Ministry of Magic."
Vaughn's expression remained calm. "It'll pass."
Rita's face lit up, as if suddenly enlightened.
She already suspected Vaughn had a powerful supporter behind him, and her question was just a test. Now, seeing his composure, she felt inexplicably reassured. She had already seen his intelligence, ability, and strength firsthand.
Considering he had discovered her Animagus identity and even had influence over the Daily Prophet—if she was forced to submit before, now… she was starting to be swayed.
If you were going to surrender and cling to someone's leg, better make sure it was a strong one.
The two chatted for a while longer until the agreed-upon interview time ended. Rita Skeeter got up and left.
After escorting her out of the Slytherin common room, Vaughn returned to the dormitory, picked up the glass jar in which he had stored Rita the night before, and chuckled.
Honestly, he hadn't intended to threaten Rita Skeeter from the beginning.
If she had just conducted the interview honestly and refrained from fabricating nonsense, he wouldn't have bothered with her at all.
But dear Ms. Skeeter was used to being arrogant and constantly trying to stir up trouble, so he had casually mentioned last night that he knew her secret.
If Rita had been more cautious, or if she hadn't had such an intense thirst for revenge that compelled her to transform into a beetle to spy on him, Vaughn wouldn't have acted against her. He couldn't very well harm a journalist in Hogwarts just for spreading rumors—that would ruin the hard-earned rapport he had built with Dumbledore.
But if she delivered herself to him, she couldn't blame anyone else.
"In fact, the woman has her merits," Vaughn mused. "She understands the situation, knows when to retreat or advance, and she's ruthless—both to others and herself. Not everyone can face reality so quickly. Not everyone can even master Animagus…"
Animagus was the most advanced form of Transfiguration.
It altered the very essence of the human body. In other words, once a wizard transformed into their Animagus form, they were physically identical to the corresponding animal—inside and out.
Last night, Vaughn had carefully studied Rita in beetle form and confirmed that her physical structure was exactly like that of a real beetle—even her magical power as a witch had vanished.
The only thing that might have remained was her human soul.
Due to its powerful magical nature, the requirements to become an Animagus were extremely harsh. First, the practitioner had to hold a mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire month—from one full moon to the next—without damaging it in the slightest. If the moon failed to appear due to weather or other reasons, they'd have to start all over again.
Once the full moon did appear, the next step was to expose the leaf to its light, then place it in a crystal bottle filled with saliva. Add to that their own hair, dew collected from a location untouched by sunlight or humans, and a ghost-faced hawk moth pupa.
Then, bury the bottle and let time and ritual turn it into a 'magic potion,' waiting until stormy weather arrives to proceed.
The entire process required proficiency in four disciplines—transfiguration, spells, potions, and ritual magic. It also demanded a great deal of luck. Who could predict when the next full moon would appear clearly, or how long it would take for a thunderstorm to arrive?
As far as Vaughn knew, there were very few Animagi in the wizarding world today, simply because most people couldn't meet the requirements.
After putting the glass jar away, Vaughn reflected silently:
"I wonder if I'll be able to master Animagus in the future by directly adding points through the system?"
"Even if not… I suspect there must be a simplified method out there. Otherwise, it's ridiculous to think James, Sirius, and Peter all managed to become Animagi just to accompany Remus Lupin during the full moon…"
In truth, Vaughn didn't have much need for Animagus. And even if he could master it, he likely wouldn't use it. Because the transformation changed the fundamental nature of the body, a wizard in Animagus form lost the ability to cast spells.
That lack of control made Vaughn feel deeply unsafe.
Unless, one day, he could truly comprehend the nature of magic—and transform into a magical creature.