Nova looked at Hermione for a moment, then nodded once. "Well, although your magic has its limits," he said, tone relaxed, "compared to the actual potential of what you've gained, those limits are negligible. And with how obsessed you are with studying, I'm pretty sure you'll be using your old Hogwarts magic again very soon."
Hermione smiled, clearly pleased with that assessment. There was pride there, but not arrogance. "Indeed," she said confidently. "I'll verify the theory properly, step by step. I won't rush it, but once I'm done, I'll be able to use Hogwarts magic again without any issues."
She then turned toward Harry, curiosity lighting her expression. "So, Harry… what is your magic?"
The question landed heavier than it should have. Harry's shoulders stiffened slightly, and his gaze drifted away for a second. His face took on a strange look—not fear exactly, but hesitation, as if he wasn't sure how to put it into words.
Nova noticed immediately. One eyebrow lifted, seeing tension and hesitation on Harry's face, Nova decided to lighten the mood and soon a familiar, irritating smirk spread across his face. "No need to look so nervous, Harry," he said lightly. "If you ended up with weak magic, we won't judge you. Don't worry. Your girlfriend just got something ridiculously powerful—she can protect you in the future."
Harry's head snapped up instantly. "She's not my girlfriend!" he shot back, voice sharp.
Hermione reacted at the exact same time. "We are not in a relationship!" she shouted, spinning toward Nova with an expression caught somewhere between outrage and sheer embarrassment. "What is wrong with you?!"
Nova raised both hands in mock surrender, clearly unrepentant. The smirk on his face only grew more punchable. "Hey, hey, relax," he said lazily. "I'm just making an observation. If you two aren't together, then maybe you can explain what exactly was going on back in that broom closet."
Harry choked. "That was—!"
Nova tilted his head, eyes glinting with malicious amusement. "Studying?" he continued smoothly. "Or what—researching reproduction? Experimental verification of biological compatibility? Cross-species—"
He didn't get to finish.
"SHUT UP!" Hermione yelled, face turning a vivid, furious red at the word reproduction. She stormed forward and shoved Nova hard in the chest. It wasn't enough to actually move him much, but the intent was crystal clear.
Nova staggered back half a step anyway, more out of theatrics than force, laughing under his breath. Hermione stood there fuming, fists clenched, ears burning, while Harry looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
Nova straightened, grin still firmly in place. "Touchy topic," he said casually. "Noted."
The tension lingered for a second after Hermione shoved Nova, the embarrassment still hanging thick in the air. Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly eager to move the conversation somewhere—anywhere—else.
"Anyway," he said, forcing himself to focus, "my magic is… Soul Magic."
The words landed hard.
Hermione froze mid-step, eyes widening as she stared at him. "S-Soul magic?" she repeated, disbelief slipping into her voice.
Even Nova's expression shifted. The smirk faded, replaced by a sharp, alert look. "Soul magic?" he echoed, clearly surprised despite himself.
Harry scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling very exposed under their stares. "Is it… bad?" he asked quietly. "Back home, pretty much everything related to the soul is considered dark magic. Forbidden stuff. The kind that automatically puts you on a very bad list."
Hermione didn't hesitate. She stepped closer and grabbed his hand, fingers tightening around his as if grounding him. Her face was full of concern, not fear. Harry looked down at their joined hands, then back up at her, managing a small, weak smile.
She opened her mouth to speak—but Nova cut in before she could.
"First of all," Nova said flatly, pointing at them, "if you're going to be that obvious, don't spread dog food in front of me. Only I'm allowed to do that."
Hermione spluttered. "Nova!"
He continued without missing a beat. "Second, soul magic doesn't make you bad or some kind of dark wizard, Harry." His tone turned serious now, stripped of most of its teasing edge. "Magic tied to the soul is dangerous, yes—but dangerous doesn't mean evil."
He tapped his temple lightly. "With enough knowledge and properly verified theory, even Hermione could use soul magic. So could I. The soul isn't some inherently corrupt thing—it's just fundamental."
Nova shrugged. "Picking up a knife doesn't make someone a murderer. You can use it to chop vegetables, or you can use it to kill someone. The difference isn't the knife—it's the person holding it."
Harry let out a slow breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. The tight knot in his chest finally loosened, and without thinking, he squeezed Hermione's hand back. She looked up at him, their eyes meeting for a quiet moment where neither of them spoke.
There was reassurance in her gaze, steady and warm, and Harry found himself smiling a little more genuinely this time. Whatever doubts had been clawing at him moments ago dulled under that look, replaced by something calmer and far more solid.
Seeing Harry and Hermione slip into one of those moments again, Nova didn't comment for once. Instead, he leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as his thoughts drifted elsewhere. This really had been a good call. Bringing Harry into this world wasn't just a gamble—it was turning into an outright win.
Soul Magic alone was rare, volatile, and absurdly valuable when handled correctly. And Hermione… she had been a side bonus, sure, but a very beneficial one. Script Magic had depth, scalability, and terrifying long-term potential.
Nova's lips curved faintly. Script Magic and Soul Magic—both high-tier foundations, the kind that paid dividends over time rather than exploding all at once. The future returns from these two were going to be substantial, and that was putting it mildly.
Nova snapped out of his thoughts just in time to see Harry and Hermione still gazing at each other, the distance between them shrinking little by little without either of them seeming to notice. Their hands were still linked, their expressions soft, unguarded—dangerously close to crossing a line.
A sharp, exaggerated groan cut through the moment.
"Ugh… seriously," Nova muttered.
The sound made both of them jump like they'd been caught doing something illegal. Harry jerked back as if shocked, nearly tripping over his own feet, while Hermione yanked her hand away, face instantly burning red.
Nova pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get a room, you two," he said flatly. "And Harry, if you drag me down in the duel, just because you were lusting after Hermione, I am so turning you into a frog. Or something worse. I haven't decided yet."
Harry went bright red. "I wasn't lusting!"
Hermione's reaction was far stronger.
"L-LUSTING?!" she exploded, outrage and embarrassment mixing together as she spun on Nova. Her entire face was crimson now, ears included. "How dare you! That is completely inappropriate, inaccurate, and wildly insulting!"
She jabbed a finger at him, voice rising. "We were having a serious moment! An emotionally supportive, psychologically stabilizing moment! There was absolutely nothing lustful about it!"
Nova raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Sure. Very academic staring."
Harry waved his hands frantically. "It wasn't like that! We were just—talking. With our eyes. Briefly."
Hermione whirled on him. "Harry, that did not help!"
Nova leaned back, smirk returning in full force. "Relax. I'm just saying—save the intense eye contact for when I'm not around. I'd like to survive this adventure without third-wheeling my way into trauma."
Harry cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as the embarrassment slowly faded. "Anyway… back to the actual topic," he said, tone turning more serious. "My grimoire says I have two types of soul-related magic spells. The first one is called Soul Sense."
Hermione immediately focused, her earlier outrage switching cleanly into academic attention. Nova straightened slightly, listening without interrupting.
"It's passive," Harry continued. "Always on. I can sense souls within about five hundred meters without even trying. I don't hear thoughts or emotions or anything like that—it's more like… awareness. Presence. I just know someone is there, even if they're hidden, invisible, or behind walls."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Five hundred meters? Constantly?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. At first it was overwhelming, but my grimoire says the mind adapts. I can tune most of it out unless I focus."
"And if you do focus?" Nova asked.
Harry hesitated, then answered honestly. "If I actively use it, I can extend it up to around five kilometers. It's not as clear at that range, but I can still tell where souls are clustered, how dense they feel, and whether something is… off."
Hermione swallowed. "That's terrifying," she murmured. "And incredibly useful."
Harry gave a small shrug. "That's kind of been the theme so far."
Nova let out a low whistle. "Passive detection, anti-stealth by default, scalable range. Yeah… that's high-tier."
Harry nodded, then frowned slightly. His gaze drifted, unfocused for a moment, before slowly settling on Nova. His expression changed—confusion creeping in, followed by something closer to unease.
"But Nova…" Harry said quietly.
Nova looked back at him. "What?"
Harry stared a second longer before continuing. "I can't sense a soul inside you. At all."
The room went still. Hermione paled slightly while Nova raised his eyebrows.
"It's… empty," Harry said, uneasy. "Like there's nothing there. If I didn't already know this is a clone of yours, I'd honestly find it really spooky. Well I still find it spooky, how are your even controlling this clone body of yours."