"How did you find me?"
"It was Guoguo Tea. It picked up your lingering scent and kept acting restless."
Vaughn didn't take Hermione back to the Room of Requirement.
At night, Hogwarts held no real danger for him. He didn't need to worry about Filch, Mrs Norris, or Peeves the way other students did.
Instead, he led Hermione straight to the Astronomy Tower.
The highest point in the castle, rarely visited outside of lessons. They sat at the edge of the tower, while Guoguo Tea curled comfortably in Vaughn's arms, rubbing its head against his chest and purring contentedly.
"So it was you who exposed me," Vaughn said lightly.
"Meow~"
Guoguo Tea stretched lazily. Its fur reflected a silvery sheen under the moonlight hanging high in the sky, bathing everything that should have been swallowed by darkness in soft radiance.
Perched atop the high cliffs, Hogwarts overlooked the surrounding land—and from the Astronomy Tower, the view was unrivaled.
Below them, the Black Lake mirrored the moon, glittering like scattered crystal shards. Beyond it, the dark mass of the Forbidden Forest blended into rolling mountains, stretching toward the horizon, where faint stars shimmered through mist rising from the woods.
Everything looked utterly different from the daytime.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
A gentle breeze lifted Hermione's hair. She gazed out at the scenery and softly said,
"I've never seen the Scottish Highlands at night."
"Is it beautiful?" Vaughn asked.
"Yes."
Vaughn reached into his satchel and took out the Granger parents' reply, handing it to her.
"I meant to give this to you earlier, but things kept getting delayed."
Hermione took it eagerly.
"Did Mum and Dad agree?"
"At least Mrs Granger was very happy. Mr Granger, on the other hand… seems to think I've tricked away his precious daughter."
Vaughn shrugged.
Hermione laughed—shy, a little sweet.
After putting the letter away, she asked softly,
"Harry said you've been busy with the formation of the Werewolf Affairs Committee. Is that true?"
"Oh, very much so."
"Then… you probably won't have much time to come back soon, will you…"
She loosened her robe slightly and took out a delicate box, her cheeks flushing red.
"I was planning to give this to you on the holiday, but… since you'll be busy… I'll give it to you early. It's Valentine's chocolate…"
Valentine's Day already?
That was bad.
Vaughn suddenly realized he'd been so busy he'd completely forgotten about it.
His heart skipped, but his expression remained calm as he smiled and accepted the gift.
"Thank you. I've prepared your present too—I'll send it to you on the day itself, alright?"
"…Okay."
She nodded shyly.
Vaughn let out a quiet breath of relief.
The next day, perhaps because Valentine's Day was approaching, Vaughn belatedly noticed something—
The entire castle was steeped in restless youthful energy.
While wandering the castle under concealment, he saw many older students gathering in small groups, eagerly exchanging confession strategies.
Even those who normally scoffed at legends now listened attentively as others swore that confessing beneath mistletoe never failed—if the timing was right.
In their mouths, mistletoe had practically become a love potion.
And later, when Vaughn entered Snape's office, he discovered that someone had indeed turned to potions.
"Severus, take a look at this—can you believe it? Those two Weasley boys somehow got their hands on a batch of love potions and are selling them all over the school!"
Professor McGonagall's cheeks trembled with anger.
Lately, she'd been angry so often it felt like her heart might give out.
Fred and George stood there with drooping heads, ears twisted painfully in her grip.
On the desk lay a pile of confiscated bottles. Snape uncorked one and sniffed it lightly.
Vaughn arrived just in time to hear him say disdainfully,
"Fake."
McGonagall immediately relaxed.
Love potions were a serious matter. Though they only created false affection, that was precisely what made them dangerous.
Imagine being magically compelled to love someone you didn't—and then something happened. When the effect wore off, how devastating would that be?
Unfortunately, they were impossible to eradicate entirely. Older students knew how to brew them, and every Valentine's Day the school could only tighten inspections and pray nothing went wrong.
Unlike McGonagall, the twins were outraged.
"How can that be? They cost us five Galleons!"
"We checked them—the colour, the smell—they match Vaughn's notes exactly!"
"Yeah, Fred! Vaughn researched love potions two years ago! We snuck a look at his notes—there's no way they're wrong!"
The twins whispered urgently.
"Think Snape's trying to swindle us?"
"Could be, George!"
Snape's face lengthened dangerously.
"Weasley—do try to speak louder."
Then he noticed Vaughn and gave them a meaningful look.
"Or perhaps you should explain this to Mr Vaughn Weasley."
The twins stiffened.
Vaughn smiled faintly.
"I recall certain people swearing they'd invest the money into product development—not waste it. Care to explain, Fred? George?"
"Er—we can explain!"
"Yeah, Vaughn, we just wanted to earn a bit more. Developing new products is expensive, and Canary Creams are piling up in storage…"
McGonagall didn't give them the chance.
She dragged them toward the door by their ears.
"Mr Fred Weasley, Mr George Weasley—selling fake potions is a serious violation. Detention. And your brother Ronald Weasley can keep you company."
Their screams faded down the corridor.
Vaughn ignored them. He uncorked one of the bottles and sniffed it.
"Fake indeed. Honeyed sugar water dyed pink—only fools would fall for it."
Snape snorted.
"The famous new Potions Master—yet his brothers are fools."
Knowing Snape was in a foul mood, Vaughn didn't rise to the bait. While examining the shelves, he casually asked,
"Professor, what do you think makes a good Valentine's gift for a girl?"
Snape: "..."
He strongly suspected Vaughn was mocking him.
But Vaughn was genuinely thinking. He had little experience in this area.
In his previous life, he'd followed the crowd—flowers, shallow gestures.
This time, with power and resources, he didn't want to be careless.
Unfortunately, Snape was hardly the right person to ask. If he knew how to give gifts, he wouldn't still be single.
As Vaughn prepared to leave via the fireplace, his gaze caught on a cauldron.
Pink potion shimmered inside, pearlescent even in the dim office. Its steam spiraled upward, lingering in the air.
"Amortentia?"
Vaughn looked at Snape in surprise.
Snape's mouth twitched as he looked away.
"…Advanced class material."
Vaughn leaned closer. At his level, he could identify most potions easily.
The fragrance—rich, complex, different for everyone—filled his senses.
"Beautifully brewed," he praised.
Snape smirked—until Vaughn added,
"You've brewed this privately more than once, haven't you?"
"…Hmph. Shut up."
Vaughn fell silent, inhaling the layered aroma.
Suddenly, inspiration struck.
He remembered Hermione by the Black Lake months ago—alone, quietly crying.
Not because Harry and Ron meant so much to her then, but because she had no one else.
Fairly speaking, Hermione's personality hadn't been popular at the time—competitive, bookish, always talking about studying.
Even now, she still had no close female friends.
No one wanted to be alone.
At that age, there were no irreconcilable grudges—just pride and unwillingness to compromise.
Vaughn rubbed his chin.
What if he adapted Amortentia's personalized fragrance principle into a social potion?
Something gentle—just enough to make dorm-mates find Hermione pleasant, approachable, slowly lowering barriers.
With his experience refining Wolfsbane and cataloguing magical traits through Potion Trait Extraction, a plan quickly formed.
He gestured casually. A jar opened itself, and several henbane petals floated toward him.
With magic, they disintegrated, releasing their properties.
Snape watched with interest.
"A new potion idea?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Henbane petals… another love potion?"
Vaughn paused.
"Not exactly. I want to make a Valentine's gift for my girlfriend."
"..."
Snape's brief spark of excitement died instantly.
"Get. Out. Of. My. Office."
Sacrilege.
Potions were sacred—not tools for courting.
Snape was furious.
Especially because Vaughn, right before leaving, shamelessly stuffed a large batch of ingredients—and a golden cauldron—into his satchel.
"Professor, you know how it is. I've nearly bankrupted myself helping werewolves—no time for my girlfriend…"
And Snape, curse him, softened.
Later, when Snape complained to Dumbledore, the old man sighed helplessly.
"Severus… my private savings—and even some Muggle currency—have all been moved into his yet-to-be-founded fund. What more can I do?"
Snape's face went livid.
Vaughn Weasley—
Liar. Thief. Schemer.
Instead of going to the Ministry, Vaughn Apparated directly to the Crouch residence.
Since formalizing their cooperation, Barty Crouch Sr. had arranged Floo Network access for him.
He'd promised to examine Barty Crouch Jr.'s mind today.
Vaughn was flexible with his morals—but scrupulous with his contracts.
When he arrived, Crouch Sr. was pacing anxiously.
Beside him stood a house-elf with enormous brown eyes, wearing a tea towel.
Seeing Vaughn, Crouch blurted out,
"When do we begin? Winky will take you to the basement—sorry, I had to place anti-Apparition wards. Only house-elf magic works."
Vaughn calmed him.
"Barty. This is delicate, long-term work. Rushing won't help."
"I—I know… I've waited so long…"
Winky sniffled at Vaughn's kindness, then suddenly began punishing herself for doubting him.
Vaughn sighed.
House-elves.
Soon, they stood before a steel cage.
Inside, a frail man in sleepwear slowly looked up.
Then hatred twisted his face.
"You old dog—still daring to come!"
Before Crouch could collapse under the weight of it—
"Stupefy."
Barty Jr. fell unconscious.
The basement fell silent.
Vaughn gazed at the black fog shrouding the young man's body.
"Dark magic…"
Closing his eyes, Vaughn sat cross-legged.
His consciousness stepped into a vast inner archive.
Cloaked in pale mist, he stepped forward—
Into memory.
And the moment he made contact—
Everything exploded.
"You want my memories?" a voice roared.
"Then take them! Taste my darkness!"
Black sand surged.
Vaughn withdrew instantly—
Back in the basement.
Barty Jr. was awake.
Grinning.
"You ran? Vaughn Weasley… I noticed you."
(End of Chapter)
◇ BONUS & SUPPORT ◇
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 10 reviews — drop a comment!
◇ 1 bonus chapter for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ Read 70 chapters ahead on P@treon → patreon.com/FinalArcHero789