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Harry's eyes fluttered open, the sterile white ceiling of the Hospital Wing swimming into focus. He blinked, disoriented, his senses slowly returning from a long, dreamless sleep. A soft afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the room. He was surrounded by bedside tables overflowing with gifts: towers of sweets, colorful bouquets, and stacks of well-wishing cards.
The door at the far end of the ward swung open, and Professor Dumbledore entered, his presence immediately filling the room with a sense of calm. He smiled warmly, the sunlight catching the silver strands of his beard. "Good afternoon, Harry."
Harry struggled to sit up, his mind still clouded with fragments of the night before. "Professor Dumbledore… the Philosopher's Stone… it was Quirrell…" The images of the confrontation flickered in his mind like disjointed scenes from a nightmare.
Dumbledore raised a hand, a gesture of reassurance. "Don't worry, Harry. You defeated him. Though this matter was initially a secret, it has, as these things often do, spread like wildfire and is now known throughout the entire school." His eyes twinkled gently behind his half-moon spectacles.
Dumbledore picked up a familiar box of Chocolate Frogs from Harry's bedside table, peering inside with a knowing smile. The box was noticeably empty, save for a few stray crumbs.
"It seems your friend Ron Weasley has saved you the trouble of choosing a treat," Dumbledore said, amusement dancing in his eyes.
A wave of concern washed over Harry, cutting through the lingering fog in his mind. "Ron, how is he? And Hermione?" He asked, a touch of agitation creeping into his voice as he thought of his friends. He pushed himself up further against the pillows, his gaze fixed on Dumbledore, awaiting news.
Just then, a new voice, calm and familiar, cut through the stillness from the doorway. "They're both quite well, Harry. And Ronny is simply… well, Ronny." Aiden leaned against the doorframe, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Let's just say he is in good hands, with a stomach very ready for a good meal."
"Aiden!" Harry's face lit up, a wave of relief washing over him. He pushed himself up further, a genuine smile replacing the worry.
"That pendant you gave me," Harry began, his hand instinctively going to his chest, then gesturing to a nearby table where the shattered remains of the protective amulet lay. "It was incredibly useful, but it seems to be broken now." The pieces glinted dully in the afternoon light.
Aiden pushed off the doorframe and walked further into the room, his gaze falling on the broken amulet. He offered a reassuring wink. "It's okay, Harry. I'll make you a new one later, even better than before."
A subtle, almost imperceptible flicker of satisfaction crossed Aiden's face, a private amusement. Woohoo, it feels so good to act mysterious and vaguely omniscient, he thought, a quiet echo in his mind. No wonder Dumbledore always likes to do this. He glanced towards Dumbledore, who was observing them with his customary gentle smile, as if privy to Aiden's silent musings.
Dumbledore, who had been listening to their exchange, simply smiled knowingly without saying a word.
Then, Harry asked about the Philosopher's Stone, and Dumbledore confirmed that it had indeed been destroyed, preventing it from falling into the wrong hands. After a bit more small talk, Madam Pomfrey, ever vigilant about her patients, chased Aiden and Dumbledore out of the Hospital Wing with a gentle but firm insistence.
"Professor," Aiden said as they walked down the corridor, a thoughtful expression on his face, "was the Philosopher's Stone truly destroyed? Or did you merely relocate it to a more secure location?"
Dumbledore merely gave Aiden a cryptic wink in response, and Aiden couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine.
The next day, Harry, having recovered, finally got permission from Madam Pomfrey to leave the Hospital Wing and rejoin his friends.
Before leaving, Madam Pomfrey pressed a vial of Pepper-Up Potion into his hands, reminding him to take it easy and avoid any further adventures for the rest of the year.
In the Great Hall, the school year was finally drawing to a close, and every young wizard was eagerly looking forward to the upcoming summer holidays, a welcome respite from classes and exams.
The hall was lavishly decorated in green, with numerous Slytherin banners and streamers adorning the walls and ceilings. If no unexpected events occurred, everyone knew Slytherin was poised to win the House Cup for the seventh year in a row.
However, as was so often the case at Hogwarts, the unexpected was about to occur.
Dumbledore stood tall at the podium, the Great Hall stretching before him, filled with students in their house colors. His voice, amplified by magic, resonated through the vast space. "…Of course," he said calmly, his gaze sweeping across the hall, "we must also take into account the events that have transpired recently, events that required a certain… flexibility with the usual rules…"
At the Slytherin table, Severus Snape, a dark figure amidst the green, sat rigid. His face, as always, was a mask of impassivity, but a subtle tightening of his jaw hinted that he sensed what was coming.
"...Miss Hermione Granger," Dumbledore continued, his voice taking on a warmer tone, "for her outstanding intellect, her unwavering dedication to her friends, and her remarkable logic…" A beat of silence. "…fifty points will be awarded to Gryffindor."
A ripple of surprise, a collective murmur, spread through the hall like a wave. Heads turned, whispers erupted.
"...Mr. Ronald Weasley," Dumbledore continued, pausing for dramatic effect, a twinkle in his eye that only a few could discern, "for his superb chess skills, his unwavering loyalty, and his willingness to sacrifice himself for the greater good…" Another pause, the tension building. "…fifty points will be awarded to Gryffindor."
The murmur intensified, becoming a buzzing anticipation. The Gryffindor table was a sea of wide eyes and barely suppressed excitement.
"…And Mr. Harry Potter," Dumbledore announced, his voice filled with genuine warmth and admiration. The hall seemed to hold its breath. "For his extraordinary courage, his unwavering bravery in the face of mortal danger, and his determination to protect his friends and the school…" The pause stretched, then: "…sixty points will be awarded to Gryffindor."
The Gryffindor table exploded. Cheers erupted, students leaped to their feet, waving their house scarves.
But Dumbledore wasn't finished. A gentle smile played on his lips as he looked towards a particular student. "Finally, for Mr. Neville Longbottom's courage," he continued, his voice carrying a note of pride, "who stood his ground, a true lion heart… ten points will be awarded."
A ripple of applause spread through the hall, a genuine appreciation for Neville's bravery. It was rare that Neville received such accolades, and the warmth in the hall was palpable.
A quick calculation swept through the hall. Gryffindor's score had directly surpassed Slytherin's, the shift visible in the faces of the students. The Slytherin table, once triumphant, now wore expressions ranging from disbelief to barely concealed fury.
Dumbledore turned his gaze towards the Slytherin table, his eyes twinkling with mischievous amusement. "Therefore," he said, his voice laced with playful challenge, "it is time for a change of scenery, wouldn't you agree, Professor Snape?"
With a flourish, Dumbledore raised his hand. A collective gasp swept through the student body as, in a breathtaking display of magic, all the green and silver decorations in the Great Hall – the banners, the streamers, the tablecloths – instantly transformed into crimson and gold. The Great Hall erupted once more, the cheers of the Gryffindors echoing through the magically altered space.
This was the first time Aiden had felt Dumbledore's power so intuitively, so viscerally.
Without a wand, without uttering a single incantation, he had performed a large-scale Transfiguration spell on a space of approximately five thousand cubic meters, transforming the entire hall with a mere flick of his wrist.
And what was even more terrifying was his meticulous control. Even the patterns and emblems on the replaced banners were exquisitely detailed, perfectly replicating the Gryffindor crest.
A shiver ran down Aiden's spine. This person's skills are remarkable, he thought, and their plans might be even more terrifying. If this continues, it might not be safe for anyone to live.
"Ding, is the host considering killing Albus Dumbledore before he reaches his peak strength?" The system said without hesitation
"Tsk, why don't you go ask the author why he's making me have these thoughts," Aiden muttered in response, rolling his eyes.
"…," The system said, probably a little shocked due to the response from what Aiden said.
After Gryffindor was announced as the victor of the House Cup, the entire hall erupted in joyous celebration, with the exception of the understandably disgruntled Slytherin students.
"Tsk, those Slytherins really don't have good relationships with others, do they?" Aiden commented sharply to his roommates.
"It's their own fault for always doing whatever it takes, for their own benefit," Edmund said with a shrug.
"Isn't it the same for everyone, though? Pursuing profit and doing whatever it takes to get it?" Ethan asked, a hint of cynicism in his voice.
"There should be a bottom line, a code of honor, but the current Slytherins have clearly lost it, going overboard."
Aiden narrowed his eyes slightly, sizing up the Slytherin students, noting their expressions of barely concealed fury.
"Indeed," Oliver agreed vaguely, his mouth full of food.
Finally, the first school year had come to an end, and a long, pleasant summer vacation was about to begin.
Professor Flitwick, ever the diligent teacher, was holding a large bundle of scrolls and distributing them to all the first-year students.
"My dear first-year wizards," he squeaked, his voice barely audible above the din of the hall, "in accordance with the requirements of the Statute of Secrecy, and in order to prevent young wizards from irresponsibly abusing magic during the holidays, you are all required to sign this magical agreement."
Aiden took the offered scroll, noting that it was sparsely written with various notes of caution and legal jargon. It was immediately apparent that this scroll wasn't merely a piece of parchment; it was a sophisticated alchemical item.
Fuck, I got fooled, Aiden thought, a hint of annoyance creeping into his mind.
Last time, Professor Flitwick had slyly offered Aiden help with his experimental work in exchange for a way to bypass the Trace.
It turned out that the Trace itself was an alchemical item, which made Aiden want to facepalm. At this point, Aiden had already discovered several ways to bypass the Trace using his own ingenuity.
Aiden glared at Professor Flitwick, conveying a look of thinly veiled accusation.
Professor Flitwick, the shrewd old fox, simply turned his head away, pretending not to notice Aiden's accusing stare.
Aiden had no choice but to subtly modify the agreement. To avoid drawing too much attention to himself, Aiden didn't even bother taking out his wand.
Instead, channelling his magic through his fingertips, he discreetly engraved a tiny Hagalaz rune (ᚺ) in a hidden corner of the agreement, subtly overwriting the existing enchantments. With that single rune, the agreement had been successfully, and silently, modified.
The positioning function and magic detection function had been effectively disabled, although his aunt, Molly Weasley, had mentioned that these two functions themselves had significant flaws and loopholes.
After signing the altered agreement, the young wizards made their way to the Hogwarts train station, eagerly boarding the train that would take them home for the summer.
On the train, Aiden and his three roommates were seated in a private compartment, idly chatting about their plans for the summer.
"Ah, why can't we cast spells during the summer vacation? Damn the Ministry of Magic, honestly," Oliver grumbled, a little indignant at the restriction.
"Please leave us out of this conversation, Oliver. You're the only one who constantly gets into trouble for casting spells during the holidays. It doesn't matter to us whether we can use magic or not," Ethan said, puncturing Oliver's indignant rant with a dose of dry sarcasm.
"This agreement, this so-called 'magic agreement,' uses an alchemical tool called the Trace. Its monitoring system is remarkably inaccurate and can sense any magic that's used in the immediate vicinity of the monitored person, even if the person being tracked isn't the one using the magic," Edmund explained, adjusting his spectacles.
"Yes, which effectively means that if you're a child from a wizarding family, the Ministry of Magic will be constantly monitoring your parents' magic, not just your own, as the Trace can't really distinguish between you," Aiden added, elaborating on Edmund's explanation. "Even if you are secretly practicing magic yourself at home, you can easily get away with it by claiming your parents were responsible."
"Then that clearly means it's directly targeting young wizards from the Muggle world, those who might not know how it works and who have no magical parents to cover for them," Oliver said, his expression now turning serious.
"Yes, sadly, that's the truth," Ethan said with a shrug, a hint of resignation in his voice.
"Aiden, you have to use your invincible brain to think of a solution for this! We can't just let this stand, can we?" Oliver said, turning to Aiden with pleading eyes.
"It's not entirely impossible to circumvent, Oliver. Let me give it a try. We haven't even left Hogwarts territory yet," Aiden said, idly stroking his chin as he began to formulate a plan.
Then, reaching out, Aiden gently took hold of Oliver's head, placing his forehead directly against Oliver's. He then closed his eyes and began to meticulously sense Oliver's body, searching for the source of the Ministry's enchantments.
Channelling his magic power through Oliver's body along the path of his blood vessels, Aiden began to carefully examine every cell, every sinew, and every corner of his being.
' Just where exactly is it located? ' Aiden thought, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration.
"Got it," Aiden said suddenly, his eyes snapping open. He had spotted a faint, almost imperceptible golden halo shimmering around a major blood vessel located close to Oliver's heart.
"It's actually located near the heart!" Aiden said, surprised by the placement.
"The heart... yes. I believe I've read about it in the books in my family's library," Edmund mused thoughtfully.
Edmund looked at Aiden, and Aiden nodded in acknowledgement.
"It's a modified type of enslavement contract, ancient and dark. The ministry must have adapted it for their purposes," Edmund said, stating the truth.
"The Ministry of Magic actually had us sign this kind of thing without telling us what it really is!" Ethan exclaimed, a hint of disbelief and anger in his voice.
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