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Since that summer when Aiden first began learning magic under Dumbledore's guidance, the legendary headmaster had kept a watchful eye on him. Over the years, Dumbledore's interest only grew. He saw in Aiden something rare—a child who could cast advanced spells at a young age, whose intellect and magical aptitude far outstripped his peers. It was clear to anyone who looked closely that Aiden Prewett was destined for greatness.
Yet, Dumbledore's concern was not only for Aiden's prodigious talent. He noticed, too, the remarkable control Aiden exercised over his own mind. Such discipline could be a powerful asset, but it also carried risks. In Dumbledore's long life, he had seen what happened when gifted wizards lost their way. He believed, above all, that the capacity to love and be loved was essential. Without it, even the brightest magic could become a curse. Dumbledore was determined to guide Aiden, to help him understand the true meaning of magic, and to use his gifts for the good of others.
The old wizard was weary. He had already witnessed the rise of two Dark Lords in his lifetime, and he had no intention of seeing a third. With Aiden, he hoped to nurture not just a powerful wizard, but a good one.
For Aiden, this meant that every holiday from Hogwarts was punctuated by lessons with Dumbledore. Sometimes they met in person, sometimes they corresponded by owl, and there were always gifts exchanged at Christmas and birthdays. Dumbledore's "education in love" could be a bit much at times, but Aiden knew he was fortunate. The guidance of a wizard like Dumbledore was priceless.
Meanwhile, Aiden's own journey along the Visionary Pathway continued. His role-playing as a Telepathist was finally completed, thanks in no small part to the tireless efforts of the gnomes in the Burrow's garden. The gnomes, in fact, had become something of a legend themselves. They had established a tiny kingdom in the reed beds beside the Burrow, their numbers swelling to twenty. Aiden had heard rumors that they were preparing to "counterattack" the humans who lived above ground. They even invited Aiden to serve as their Minister of Internal Affairs—a post he politely declined.
On this particular day, Aiden was strolling through Diagon Alley. At ten years old, he had grown into a striking figure. His eyes were heterochromatic—one a deep, endless blue, the other a brilliant gold that seemed to burn with inner fire. The contrast gave him a mysterious, almost otherworldly allure. His hair was a soft, silvery gray, catching the light with every movement. His skin was as pale as fresh snow, so delicate that the faintest trace of blue veins showed beneath the surface. His lips were a gentle pink, and his smile always hinted at some secret amusement.
He should have drawn stares wherever he went, but under the effects of a Disillusionment Charm, Aiden moved through the crowds unnoticed, a ghost among the living.
After a leisurely walk, he arrived at J. Pippin's Potions. The wizarding world had grown more stable in recent years, and business was booming for Mr. Jerome Pippin. Three years ago, he had opened a branch in Diagon Alley, moving most of the potion ingredient trade there. Some said it was to handle materials that couldn't be sold openly.
Aiden stepped inside, canceling his Disillusionment Charm as he entered. The shop was warm and smelled of dried herbs and old parchment. Vincent, the clerk, looked up and grinned. "Good morning, Aiden. We just got a new batch of foxtail pinecones. Interested?"
Aiden was about to decline when the familiar chime of the system rang in his mind. "Ding. The properties of foxtail pine cones can be extracted and used to synthesize the fruit of the Elder Tree."
He changed his mind at once. "I'll take a dozen," he said.
Vincent's eyes gleamed. "Already packed for you. Anything else?"
"Dragon blood, dragon's eyes, and mirrorwing firefly wings," Aiden replied, ticking off the items from memory.
Vincent tallied up the cost. "That'll be sixty Galleons."
Aiden handed over the money with a wry smile. "You're a real profiteer, Vincent."
"Hey, I'm honest with everyone here. Come back anytime!" Vincent called after him, but Aiden was already heading out the door, his purchases tucked safely away.
He made his way to the Leaky Cauldron, greeted Tom the innkeeper, and used the Floo Network to travel to Godric's Hollow. For the past few years, with Mrs. Molly's blessing, Aiden had often practiced magic at Dumbledore's old house, sometimes even staying overnight. Coco, the house-elf, handled the meals, cleaning, and anything else Aiden needed. As for Coco technically belonging to Hogwarts, well, no one seemed to mind—or even remember.
Once in his room, Aiden carefully laid out his ingredients. He set up the cauldron, took out a silver knife, and began the ritual. He murmured a prayer, built a spiritual wall, and removed the system sapphire from around his neck, channeling magic into it.
"System, extract the characteristics of the materials and synthesize them," he commanded.
"Ding. Synthesis complete."
Aiden picked up the mirror dragon's eye and the fruit of the Elder Tree, added fifty milliliters of his own blood, and mixed in the auxiliary ingredients. The potion came together quickly, swirling in the cauldron until it settled into a shimmering, slightly golden liquid. It rippled gently in the glass bottle, resembling a massive, warped pupil that seemed to gaze into the soul of anyone who looked at it.
He stared at the potion for a long moment, steadying his nerves. Then, in one swift motion, he drank it down. Instantly, a wave of agony crashed through him. His veins bulged, his skin crawled as if insects were writhing beneath it, and he bit back a scream.
"Bloody hell, System, it wasn't this painful last time!" he gasped, clutching the edge of the table.
The system's voice was calm, almost apologetic. "Ding. Last time, the system took you into the collective unconscious sea for promotion, which diluted and transmitted the pain. This time, that was not possible."
"Then take me there now!" Aiden pleaded, desperate for relief.
"Ding. Unable to comply."
"Damn you, System," Aiden muttered, gritting his teeth. He rode out the pain, refusing to faint, and at last the torment faded. He slumped to the floor, breathing heavily, but a sense of triumph welled up inside him. He had advanced to Sequence Seven.
Slowly, he got to his feet and checked himself for changes. He flexed his hands, then squeezed the table. It didn't break. He lifted a chair, testing his strength, but found it only slightly improved.
"So much for superhuman strength," he sighed. "Still, there's more to power than muscles."
He gathered his things and hurried downstairs, eager to test his new abilities. He tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and returned to the Burrow.
*****
The Burrow was as lively as ever. Bill and Charlie had graduated and moved out. The twins, Fred and George, were away at Hogwarts, no doubt causing mischief. Ron and Ginny were playing chess in the living room, so absorbed in their game that they didn't notice Aiden's arrival.
Arthur was at work at the Ministry, and Mrs. Molly sat by the window, knitting a sweater. Aiden approached her with a smile. "Good afternoon, Aunt Molly."
She looked up, her face brightening. "Oh, Aiden, you're back!"
"Yes, Aunty. I'll be staying with you for a while."
"That's wonderful news. Arthur will be home tonight—I'll make sure to prepare something special for dinner." With that, she bustled off to the garden, humming softly.
Aiden watched her go, feeling a warmth spread through him. The Burrow was more than a house. It was home—a place where he could be himself, surrounded by family and love.
He glanced out the window at the garden, where the gnomes' reed kingdom glimmered in the afternoon sun. Somewhere out there, his goblin friends were plotting their next adventure. And inside, the Weasleys were waiting for him, ready to welcome him back into their world.
As Aiden settled into the familiar chaos of the Burrow, he knew that, whatever the future held, he was ready to face it—one sequence, one challenge, and one family dinner at a time.
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