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Hey guys !!! 100,000 views and 500 collections!! I'm so happy you like the story. I'll try to keep up with the posting schedule. If you want more, read on, otherwise see you tomorrow without fail!!
(PS: A friend suggested I create a P@treon account. If you'd like to see advanced chapters posted on Webnovel, that's where you can find them! I'll also mention all the supporters at the end of each chapter!)
Search : StoryLabo on the website or click the link on my bio
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The return to the orphanage went smoothly. McGonagall had Apparated with Aiden in front of the door, causing that same small moment of dizziness that continued to amaze him, still not the slightest nausea.
Definitely, my new constitution has advantages.
Mrs. Pemberton welcomed them with a mixture of maternal anxiety and devouring curiosity, bombarding Aiden with questions about his magical day.
He answered each of her questions patiently but time pressed so McGonagall interposed herself and took Mrs. Pemberton aside for the final practical details.
- "On September 1st, Aiden will need to go to King's Cross Station. The Hogwarts Express leaves from platform 9¾ at exactly 11 o'clock in the morning. To access the platform, you just need to run straight toward the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Don't worry if it seems solid, it's a magical illusion."
Ah so only Harry didn't get the right way to know how to access the platform, good old Hagrid, fortunately it's Minerva who came and not that absent-minded half-giant.
- "Platform 9¾?" Mrs. Pemberton blinked like a myopic owl. "But... that doesn't exist, does it?"
- "For Muggles, no. For us, yes." McGonagall smiled with that patience teachers have who are used to absurd questions. "Aiden will understand on the spot. His things are ready, his books too. He'll just have to show up with his trunk."
She turned toward Aiden.
- "Your train will be waiting for you, Mr. Mortensen. Be punctual, the Hogwarts Express tolerates no delays."
After a few last recommendations and a formal handshake, McGonagall disappeared in a slight pop of Apparition, leaving Aiden alone with his new life.
The weeks that followed were... particular.
Aiden began by naturally isolating himself from the other orphanage children. Not meanly, he still participated in communal meals, helped Mrs. Pemberton with daily chores, and answered politely when spoken to. But as soon as he could, he took refuge in his room with his first-year textbooks.
Eddie noticed the change first.
- "What do you do all the time with your weird books?" he asked one evening seeing him go up with his pile of magical books.
- "I'm studying for my new school," Aiden replied with an innocent shrug. "I need to catch up on the program."
- "What kind of school? You never tell us anything..."
If you only knew, my poor Eddie.
- "A... specialized school. For kids with particular problems. You know, my illness."
Which wasn't totally false, technically.
Eddie didn't insist, Aiden's supposed illness made him uncomfortable but Aiden could see in his superficial thoughts that he was hurt to be left out. Aiden's been weird since he got those new white hair. And that professor who came... He's hiding something from us.
Sorry, old man. But you wouldn't understand.
Once in his room, Aiden opened his textbooks and... damn, it was as if his brain had become a magical sponge.
The Standard Book of Spells for Beginners? He had devoured it in two evenings, instantly understanding the theoretical principles of matter transformation, the necessary visualization, the required magical intention.
A Charm Book was even easier. The first-year spells, Lumos, Nox, Wingardium Leviosa, Alohomora, he understood them at the conceptual level before even having practiced them.
Damn, it's like I have a magical instruction manual engraved in my brain.
And then one evening, alone in his room while the others watched TV downstairs, Aiden decided to move from theory to practice.
He took out his hybrid wand from its hiding place, he had carefully concealed it in a sock at the bottom of his trunk, and held it in his right hand and immediately, that familiar sensation of power ran through him.
Come on, let's start with something simple.
- "Lumos."
His wand lit up instantly, projecting a soft golden light in the room. There were no particular difficulties or hesitation besides, as if he had done this all his life.
Too easy. Let's see if we can have some fun.
He concentrated, visualizing the light changing color. In his mind, he imagined the gold turning blue, then green, then red.
- "Lumos."
That's not the right spell, but with enough intention...
The light from his wand began to sparkle, going from gold to electric blue, then to emerald green, then to blood red, creating a small light show in the darkness of his room.
Aiden smiled like a kid who had just discovered a new toy.
Damn, this is great. What else can I try?
He placed a few objects on his desk, a book, his toothbrush, a plastic cup, and pointed his wand at them.
- "Wingardium Leviosa."
The book immediately rose into the air, floating with perfect stability. Aiden made it swirl gently, then trace circles, then draw complex figures in space.
It's like... like magic naturally obeys my will. Like my golden threads, but more powerful.
He tried with several objects at once. Three, four, five objects dancing simultaneously in his room like satellites in orbit.
Damn, I already master the entire first-year program without even having set foot in Hogwarts. I'll wait for classes before trying transfiguration but that should follow.
Then an idea came to him, In his Harry Potter memories, there were higher-level spells. Levicorpus, for example, a more powerful version of Wingardium Leviosa.
Let's see if my intention can compensate for the lack of technical knowledge. That shouldn't be dangerous...
He pointed his wand at his desk chair.
- "Levioso."
The chair rose... then continued to climb. And climb. Up to the ceiling, where it remained crashed and destroyed into pieces, the exploded pieces remained stuck to the ceiling as if they were glued up there.
Oh, shit! Maybe a bit too powerful. I hope that didn't make too much noise...
- "Finite Incantatem."
The chair or at least what remained of it, came down gently and settled exactly in its initial place in a small pile of debris.
Aiden stood there, standing in his room, his wand still warm in his hand, and realized something enormous.
I'm not just gifted for magic. I'm... naturally excellent. As if I was born for this.
It made sense, when he thought about it. His years of experience with magical intention, his golden threads, mental control, memory manipulation, all that was just magic in a different form. He had spent years refining his will, channeling his power, visualizing complex results.
Moreover, his magical transformation seemed to have greatly amplified his affinity with magic, if his talent was average before, now there was no longer any barrier to what he could do.
The magic wand just gave a more... official form to abilities he already possessed.
With this, I'll be unbeatable at Hogwarts.
He carefully put away his wand and books, turned off the light, and lay down on his bed with a satisfied smile.
The next day Aiden was there, standing in his room, his wand still warm in his hand, and something strange happened.
He was going to put his wand back in its camouflage sock but he suddenly felt a buzzing, a vibration intense enough for him to feel it coming from his hand, yet his hand was perfectly stable.
What was agitated was actually the wand's magic expressing its... displeasure??
He removed his wand from the sock and the vibration stopped, he put it back in and the vibration resumed, stronger than before.
OK that's weird!! Damn this thing is almost alive in its own way...
It was as if the wand had heard his thoughts because it vibrated violently.
- "OK OK my beauty I'm joking I'm joking don't get angry!!"
It wasn't just a magical tool, it was a partner. Something that understood his intentions, that amplified his will, that... communicated with him in a certain way. Like Edgar his raven, but in an evolved magical version.
Ollivander was right. We don't choose our wand. It chooses us.
He carefully put away his wand, but the idea of experimenting further didn't leave him. First-year spells were nice, but there was something more interesting to test.
The next afternoon, while the other children were doing homework or watching TV, Aiden discreetly slipped into the small garden behind the orphanage. A square of shabby lawn surrounded by a few trees, nothing grandiose, but isolated enough for his experiments.
He settled under the old oak, took out his wand, and closed his eyes.
Since his magical awakening, he constantly perceived the small elemental beings surrounding him. There, in the branches above his head, dozens of aerial creatures swirled joyfully, creating small breezes that made the leaves dance.
Let's see if I can do better than just hear them.
He pointed his wand toward the sky and concentrated, trying to channel his magical power through the hybrid wood.
At first, nothing. Then, gradually, he felt his magic extend, amplified by the wand, reaching the small wind beings with precision he had never had before.
Hello, friends.
A concert of small crystalline laughter answered him. The aerial creatures were curious, they weren't used to being contacted with so much clarity.
Aiden visualized what he wanted, he wanted the wind to change direction, to blow from the east instead of the west, for the small beings to modify their usual course.
And there... he made a mistake.
Instead of suggesting, as he usually did with his targets, he tried to command and impose his will directly on the elemental creatures.
The effect was quite... spectacular.
His magical power was instantly sucked away, as if someone had opened a giant siphon in his energy reserves. In one second, he found himself drained, exhausted, the wand trembling in his hand.
And the small wind beings...
Oh, shit.
They were furious, and I mean really, really furious, the kind of anger where your father climbs the stairs four at a time to smash your face when you slammed the door too hard after an argument.
A whirlwind of elemental anger exploded around Aiden. The aerial creatures, usually playful and benevolent, united in a vengeful gust that literally lifted him off the ground.
- "SHIT SHIT SHIT!" he screamed finding himself propelled three meters away.
He landed on all fours in a nettle bush, his wand flying into the grass, his hair even more disheveled than usual.
Ouch. Damn. OUCH.
He lay there for a few seconds, blinking at the sky, trying to understand what had just happened. Above him, the small wind beings still swirled, their crystalline voices expressing a mixture of indignation and reproach that he could roughly understand as...
...not nice... not respectful... wanted to force us... mean wizard...
Well, message received, thought Aiden getting up painfully. You don't command the elements. You ask them politely.
He recovered his wand, which now vibrated with a certain... disapproval, and headed toward the aerial creatures.
- "Sorry," he said aloud but trying to channel what remained of his power into his voice, feeling a bit ridiculous talking to the wind. "I... I screwed up. I didn't mean to disrespect you."
The whirlwind gradually calmed. The crystalline voices became less hostile, more... curious.
...apologizes... first time... young wizard... learning...
A small playful breeze ruffled his hair, not meanly, but as if to say "be careful next time."
Aiden smiled despite his aches.
OK, lesson learned. The elements are not my slaves. They're... potential partners. Let's see how to make some sort of pact with them.
He returned to the orphanage limping slightly, his wand tucked in his pocket, and a new understanding of magic.
Brute power wasn't enough. You needed finesse, respect, diplomacy.
Damn, magic is complicated.