Slytherin common room, just before dawn.
The magical fire in the hearth flickered with a cold, pale-blue glow, casting shimmering light across the underwater dormitory.
It also lit up Vaughn's pensive face.
An hour had passed since he returned from the Room of Requirement. He hadn't moved—just sat there, a notebook open in front of him, lost in thought.
Guoguocha, who had already enjoyed a nap, stirred from a delicious dream involving a fish-flavored mouse. The taste was so vivid it licked its lips even after waking.
"Meow~"
Stretching lazily, the fluffy cat padded over and rubbed against Vaughn.
He leaned down, picked it up, and scratched its chin. "Guoguocha, tell me… what does an alchemist truly see as real? And what is illusion?"
"...Meow?"
"Heh…" Vaughn chuckled. "Sorry, I shouldn't ask weird questions like that to a cat."
The interruption finally snapped him out of his trance. He picked up his quill and began jotting down his thoughts from tonight.
And the homework Dumbledore had assigned him…
"How do alchemists perceive the world?"
That was the title he wrote on the parchment.
Vaughn had a faint idea why Dumbledore gave him such an assignment. During their discussion in the Aether, he had been openly skeptical of traditional alchemical theory.
Not that that was a bad thing.
As he had said himself, using subjective reasoning to explain objective phenomena has limits—there's no such thing as absolute truth.
And Dumbledore seemed to agree. That's why, back in the Aether, he'd said that Muggle theories had their merits.
He didn't oppose Vaughn's questioning. He was only worried that skepticism might blind him, as he'd warned at the end.
After all, Vaughn wasn't even a full-fledged alchemist yet. His understanding of both Aether and alchemy was still shallow.
That's why Dumbledore wanted to slow him down—help him truly become an alchemist first. To understand their worldview. The essence behind their beliefs.
"Dumbledore really is a good teacher," Vaughn murmured.
Guoguocha looked up and meowed twice in agreement.
"You think so too, huh?"
He ruffled its thick fur, smiling. Truth be told, Dumbledore's conduct tonight was remarkable.
The Chocolate Frog cards always praised his achievements in alchemy as one of his greatest accomplishments. And yet, despite Vaughn challenging his life's work, Dumbledore had shown no resistance or annoyance—only patience, understanding, and guidance.
That kind of open-mindedness was rare.
Dumbledore had offered kindness. Vaughn would repay it in kind.
Besides, alchemy was a discipline that had developed over centuries. If Vaughn wanted to master it, he'd need to study deeply.
Dumbledore had said it best—
"You have ambition, Vaughn. Ambition for knowledge. For truth."
But that path was difficult. To walk it, he'd need allies—people who shared his goals.
In the realm of knowledge, authority doesn't come from strength. You have to prove you're right to win others over.
Right now, Vaughn was still far from that.
He glanced at the parchment. Below the title, he began writing:
"Whether it's magic or science, wizard or Muggle—the definition of 'matter' is the same:
All physical entities in the universe, existing independently of human consciousness."
"Both also speculate that matter has another form. Magic calls it animus; science calls it information."
"From this angle, animus ≈ information."
"The Aether, a collective of animus = an informational universe."
"So, in essence, the two approaches are surprisingly similar. The main difference is:
Science emphasizes objectivity, while magic—alchemy in particular—leans heavily on subjectivity."
"But… why do alchemists view the world so subjectively?"
Vaughn paused.
It was strange. If alchemists accepted that matter was objective reality, then why did they treat the Aether as something separate from matter? Why regard it as the "soul" or "consciousness" of the universe?
Clearly, this was exactly what Dumbledore wanted him to reflect on.
What had caused that shift in their thinking?
He thought back to Dumbledore's demonstration in the Aether. And that final question he kept repeating:
What is real? What is false?
Dumbledore didn't want a literal answer.
He was hinting at something deeper.
"That old riddler…" Vaughn muttered.
Thinking like this was getting him nowhere. He set his quill down and scooped Guoguocha back into his arms.
"Meow?"
"I'm not finishing this tonight. Haven't slept at all. I need rest."
"Meow meow!"
"Don't worry. It's just that Aether experience—it scrambled my awareness. That sensation of time fracturing into countless micro-moments, with a new conscious state in each instant… It's insane…"
Mumbling to himself, he climbed into bed, still holding the cat.
But Guoguocha wriggled out of his arms with a meow~.
"…You don't want to sleep with me?"
"Meow!"
"Too hot?"
Oh… right. It was already May.
Even in the cool Scottish Highlands, summer had begun creeping in. The Slytherin dorms were under the lake and stayed fairly cool—but for a fluffy cat like Guoguocha, the temperature was already borderline uncomfortable.
And it was only going to get worse.
That reminded Vaughn of one of the few inconveniences in the wizarding world: summer heat.
Back when he first started trying to make money from potions—before he discovered the… "woman bonus"—he'd even considered developing a cooling potion.
But later, after doing the math, he realized it wasn't worth it. England's summer only lasted a month. Not much of a market.
"Maybe once Fred and George refine their tech a bit more, we can install air-conditioning in the dorms…"
The Mithril-Mercury Elastomer they'd developed for wiring had limited uses. It was ideal for small electronic products, but for larger appliances like A/C? Too costly. Poor heat dissipation.
Still, the twins were working on new improvements.
"I wonder how Fred and George are doing with their research…"
Just as that thought crossed his mind—
At Gryffindor Tower, the common room door creaked open.
The Fat Lady yawned from her portrait frame, rubbing her eyes.
"You cheeky little students… do you ever let anyone sleep—huh? No one's there?"
She frowned. But faint footsteps slipped past her, quiet as whispers. As the castle air shifted slightly, a head popped out of thin air.
It was Harry.
His face flushed from holding his breath under the Invisibility Cloak, he inhaled deeply, savoring the cool night air.
Then came Ron, gasping with eyes bulging.
"I must be mental," he wheezed. "Sneaking out in the middle of the night for your nonsense."
"Shh!" Harry hushed him. "Keep it down! Don't you want to test out the new camera? Fred and George need more actors for their prototype. I only invited you because we're friends. Normally I wouldn't tell anyone."
That softened Ron immediately.
Harry had been raving about "movie-making" for days now, making Ron jealous out of his mind.
"Where are they?"
"In a secret passage—apparently one that leads to Hogsmeade. They're testing a new build there."
Ron's enthusiasm dimmed.
Harry… didn't know where the tunnel was.
"What? You've never been there?"
"No…" Harry admitted sheepishly. "We used to work in the Room of Requirement, but Fred and George wrote yesterday that their beloved investor is using it now, so they moved the lab."
He pulled out a letter and read aloud:
"…Exit through the side door of the castle, head toward Hagrid's hut, and look for a large, knotted, hideous tree. The passage entrance is beneath it."
"See? Easy to find!" Harry beamed, waving the paper.
Ron had a bad feeling.
Fred and George's idea of a "safe place" was usually very different from his.
But the directions were clear, and they were already outside. Without the cloak, Ron wouldn't dare go back alone.
After a moment's hesitation, he followed Harry.
Sneaking through the halls under the Invisibility Cloak, they even ran into Mrs. Norris.
Since she'd helped them find Fred and George last time, Harry had optimistically decided they were "on good terms." He even carried a fish snack for her—his new favorite snack, apparently.
She sniffed the air, spotted the fish fall from nowhere, and immediately darted off.
Ron stared in disbelief.
"You brought snacks for a cat?!"
"They're tasty! You want one?"
"I hate fish snacks. And cats!"
"Ron, you've gotta let go of your prejudice. Guoguocha and Mrs. Norris are adorable."
"Adorable? They're both traitorous little devils—listen, your precious Mrs. Norris just called Filch!"
Sure enough, angry footsteps echoed from the corridor, along with a familiar snarl.
Neither boy panicked. They knew now that Filch couldn't use magic.
Fred and George had told Harry he was a Squib. He'd spread the news, and even Neville had laughed—then shared his own childhood fear that he might be a Squib.
Everyone had laughed.
Until Hermione scolded them.
"How is laughing at someone's disability funny? Harry, would you laugh if Malfoy called you 'Scarhead' again?"
They'd all felt guilty.
But that didn't stop them from enjoying a little mischief tonight.
As Filch appeared in his nightclothes, wheezing and shouting, Mrs. Norris circled their invisible feet suspiciously. The boys stifled giggles, then quietly slipped out the castle's side door.
"I bet the poor sod doesn't even know what an Invisibility Cloak is," Ron said gleefully.
But that joy faded fast.
The directions were accurate. The grass between the castle and Hagrid's hut was open, and there weren't many trees.
It didn't take long to find a huge, ugly, knotted tree.
But the twins hadn't mentioned the species.
"Whomping Willow!" Ron groaned.
Harry—magical newbie that he was—blinked. "What's that?"
"A tree with serious anger issues. Touch it and it'll beat you to a pulp!"
Ron was done. He should've turned back.
But Harry disagreed.
"We're already here! We've got wands—what's there to be scared of?"
"It's not a normal tree—"
"What, is it scarier than a troll? You've been bragging all year about that troll fight. Now you're scared of a tree?"
Ron glared at him. When had his sweet, innocent friend become so… Vaughn-like?
But Harry followed up with, "Besides, we've got the cloak. It can't see us."
Eventually, Ron gave in.
Courage and recklessness—classic Gryffindor.
Cloaked and cautious, they crept toward the massive shadow of the Whomping Willow. Its limbs twitched occasionally, ominous in the moonlight.
"Ron, can you breathe quieter?"
"Shhh—don't wake it!"
"Wake it? It's a tree, not a person—look, we're really close and nothing's—Ow!"
Harry tripped on a root and winced. "Just a tree root. Honestly, Ron, you're being so jumpy."
But Ron didn't answer.
Harry looked up and saw him staring at the ground.
"…Ron?"
Ron's voice trembled. "Harry… the roots are moving…"
Before Harry could reply, something whipped around his leg.
And yanked him into the air.
PS: I've been releasing chapters daily . Honestly, it hurts seeing almost no support on Patreon after all that work.
If you're enjoying the fic, even a little, supporting me would mean a lot. It helps a student stay independent .
complete fic (soon all chapters will be uploaded ) are already up on P@treon → patreon.com/FinalArcHero789
◇ 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