Bargaining

Vaughn didn't take his 'chance encounter' with Dumbledore seriously. Their conversation was hardly a genuine, casual chat. Dumbledore might have feigned his usual whimsical senility, but his message was clear—he knew about the Room of Requirement and had always been aware of Vaughn's movements.

The so-called invitation to try the bathroom was merely a test—to see if Vaughn was willing to play along and how he regarded Dumbledore.

So Vaughn gave a straightforward refusal and made his intent clear: I just want to study potions. Please don't bother me.

There's a saying from his previous life: "A gentleman can be deceived by his own way."

Dumbledore wasn't exactly a gentleman. No matter how many fan theorists from his past life speculated about him, one thing was beyond doubt: Dumbledore acted according to the rules.

He never forced others to follow his ideas, nor did he abuse his magic. Instead, he preferred guiding people subtly and exploiting human nature's flaws, always within the limits of what was permissible.

This wasn't his natural disposition. Dumbledore's character had been shaped by several agonizing setbacks throughout his long life.

Ariana died in Godric's Hollow.

Grindelwald turned against him. Even Tom Riddle…

Dumbledore likely spent countless sleepless nights during Voldemort's rise, filled with regret.

Regret for showing power when he first met Tom. Regret for forcing a child to submit.

Because he used strength to make a frightened child admit his faults, that child spent his whole life chasing power and was ultimately consumed by it.

It was precisely because Vaughn understood Dumbledore's character and history that he had never feared or opposed him. If it had been Voldemort, Vaughn wouldn't have wasted a second—he would've cast a spell right at his face and figured out a way to escape.

Vaughn liked people who played by the rules—even if he didn't always follow them himself.

Call it a flexible moral bottom line.

The next day, when Vaughn met with Professor Snape, he mentioned his encounter with the Headmaster and remarked with a bright smile, "The Headmaster is a good man."

"..." Snape said nothing. He had a strange feeling that something was off.

But at the moment, he wasn't in the mood to debate whether Vaughn was being sarcastic or sincere. 

They weren't meeting in the dark, damp Potions classroom today. Instead, Snape had brought him to the Quidditch pitch.

It was late September, and October was near. In the Scottish Highlands, that meant a sharp drop in temperature and rapidly worsening weather. Thick, leaden clouds rolled through the sky, and icy rain howled across the pitch in gusts of wind.

Despite the miserable conditions, the Gryffindor team refused to give up practice.

Oliver Wood clung to his broom, buffeted by wind and rain. Every time he opened his mouth, he nearly choked on rainwater, but he still shouted motivational speeches and tactical plans with great fervor.

He completely ignored his team members, all of whom looked utterly miserable, like they'd been possessed by vampires.

Harry, looking pale and fragile, fell off his broom several times. He was shaking so violently he couldn't even wear his glasses properly, as if he were about to drop dead at any moment.

Even the most diehard Gryffindors preferred the warmth of a fireplace over braving the cold to support the team.

In the stands, only Ron and Hermione were watching, huddled together in raincoats under the shed.

This made Vaughn and Snape, standing on the sidelines under the protection of 'Waterproof and 'Bubble-Head' Charms, especially conspicuous.

"…See that?! Slytherin's scared of us!! They even sent their Head of House and top student to spy on us! Are we going to let them look down on us? Where's your spirit? Where's your roar?!"

"Harry! Come on, show Slytherin our pride!!"

Wood was fired up.

Harry: "…"

The twins couldn't help commenting from the side, "What are they spying on in this mess? How Harry's turning into an ice cube?"

"Wood's lost it," one of them added. "Ever since his big plan of using Harry as a secret weapon got wrecked, he's been turning into a troll."

Angelina Johnson, one of Gryffindor's Chasers, clutched her broom tightly. Her hair was a wild mess from the wind and rain as she yelled furiously, "Damn you, Wood! I hope you turn into a woman, have your period every day, and get stuck in thunderstorms for life!"

Gryffindor Team: "…"

Watching the sorry state of the little lions, Snape sneered with satisfaction. "Idiotic team. Idiotic Potter."

Vaughn, accustomed to Snape's scathing remarks about Harry, let it slide. Smiling as he looked at Fred, George, and the half-frozen Harry in the distance, he asked, "Professor, do you like Quidditch too?"

Snape's face was stone. "Moronic sport."

"Then why bring me here?"

Snape's face twitched. He didn't answer directly. Instead, he asked in his usual low, deliberate tone, "You've finished the book. When are you planning to begin perfecting the magical extraction method?"

"Not yet, Professor," Vaughn replied. "I plan to focus on potions for now. I'll start by brewing advanced ones, familiarize myself with the rituals, and then begin studying the ingredients."

Snape considered this. "I heard from Dumbledore you want to develop new potions?"

"Yes. Honestly, perfecting the extraction method won't yield quick results."

"Each material has multiple properties. Some fit existing formulas, others don't—but that doesn't mean they won't be useful one day."

"To build a universal template, I need to understand all their traits—their effects, their extraction methods, and whether combining them might generate new effects. At the very least, I need a clear entry point."

It was an enormous undertaking.

Snape glanced at Vaughn again.

Vaughn continued steadily, "Even if I manage to extract the properties, I won't immediately know their uses. I'll have to guess, especially when they don't match any known formula. That's why developing new potions is necessary to identify them…"

"I want to devote my life to magical extraction, Professor. But I can't keep saying 'it's still in progress.' Developing new potions is both a way to verify my theories and bridge the gap before the method is complete."

Snape didn't respond right away. His face remained stern, his dark eyes unreadable. After a long pause, he finally said, "Ignorant and fearless."

Then, after another moment: "But not arrogant."

Vaughn grinned. "I've always believed one should have lofty goals—and still keep both feet on the ground."