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(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!)
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The days that followed were a mix of excitement and frustration. On one hand, Aiden now had access to a world of magical knowledge that surpassed his wildest dreams, and on the other, he was stuck in this orphanage waiting for September 1st like a kid waiting for Christmas.
Fuck, the irony, he thought while leafing through his copy of A History of Magic for the umpteenth time. I have insane powers, a unique hybrid wand, and I spend my days pretending to be a normal eleven-year-old orphan.
But at least he wasn't idle. Between intensive study sessions, he had perfected his control over Leblanc with a precision that impressed even himself.
Manipulation had become an art within an art. Aiden would concentrate, close his eyes, and feel his golden threads extending across London until they reached his financial puppet's mind.
He had completely defeated and absorbed the man's inner self.
This deep, authentic version of Reginald Leblanc, his true desires, his fears, his real personality, was now imprisoned in a cocoon of golden threads in the depths of his subconscious. Like a puppet within a puppet.
Checkmate, asshole, Aiden thought every time he activated his connection.
The orders he sent traveled through these threads, integrating directly into Leblanc's thought process. The man sincerely believed that his brilliant financial insights came from him. He really thought he had developed an extraordinary flair for investments.
In reality, he no longer had a choice. His free will had become a carefully maintained illusion.
Apple is going to explode in the 90s, Aiden thought with a vicious smile while noting in his notebook his observations on elemental spirits. Microsoft too. And then there's this little company that's going to revolutionize the world... what's it called again... oh yes, Google.
He sent the impulse through the golden threads. Somewhere in London, Leblanc had probably just had an "inspiration" regarding emerging technological sectors.
Poor bastard, Aiden sneered internally. He thinks he's become a financial genius when he's nothing more than an extension of my will.
- "Impressive, Reginald," one of his colleagues had said during their last meeting, which Aiden had "listened to" through his puppet's mind. "It's like you have a crystal ball."
If only you knew, Aiden chuckled. I have better than a crystal ball. I am the crystal ball, I'm the one who knows the future for now at least, I haven't changed anything yet...
But the real work was magic. His abilities were progressing exponentially, and he was beginning to understand why.
He no longer just learned spells, he dissected them.
Every moment alone in his room, he tirelessly repeated the same wand movements, not to memorize them, though that didn't hurt, that had been done long ago. No, to completely automate them.
Swish and flick for Wingardium Leviosa. Again and again, until his wrist executed the movement with the fluidity of a professional dancer. Until the wand became a natural extension of his arm.
But what really fascinated him was analyzing each spell at a microscopic level.
Lumos, for example. He didn't just pronounce the incantation and get light. He observed the magical flow, felt how his will transformed into energy, how this energy traveled through the wand, how it materialized into photons.
It's like studying the anatomy of a spell, he thought while making a small golden ball of light dance above his palm. Each wand movement serves to channel energy in a specific way. Each syllable of the incantation resonates with a particular magical frequency.
He was even beginning to anticipate the next step. If he perfectly understood a spell's internal mechanics, if he completely automated the movement and internalized the magical intention...
Could I do without the incantation? Or even without the wand entirely?
The idea made him shiver with excitement. Wandless magic was legendary, even in the wizarding world. Only the most powerful wizards achieved it, and even then, for very simple spells.
He tested cautiously. Silent Lumos first. He visualized the light, channeled his magical intention, executed the wand movement...
A weak but clear glow appeared at the tip of his wand.
Fucking hell, it works!
He then tried with Wingardium Leviosa. Maximum concentration, perfect visualization of the pen rising into the air, fluid wand movement...
The pen trembled slightly, then rose a few centimeters.
Incredible. I'm beginning to understand that incantations are just a crutch. A way to structure magical intention for less gifted wizards, though it seems I'm missing something. I can walk but not run. Something's missing in the equation. Intention must probably be coupled with certain "logical" things for the model to activate completely.
His experiments weren't limited to basic spells. He also tested variations, improvements, combinations.
Lumos that changed color on command. Wingardium Leviosa applied simultaneously to five different objects. Alohomora used remotely on his door lock.
Each success reinforced his confidence and understanding of magic.
He had even begun keeping a detailed journal of his interactions with elemental beings. It was fascinating to see how they reacted differently depending on his approach.
Fire spirits are impulsive but loyal once you earn their respect, he wrote in his neat small handwriting. Water ones are more patient, more subtle, but they hold grudges longer. Wind... wind is playful but touchy. And earth... damn, earth is like talking to a wall. Literally.
Edgar, his raven, had become his constant companion. The black-as-night bird was perched on his window ledge, his intelligent eyes fixed on Aiden while he studied. Their mental bond had strengthened to the point where they could communicate over long distances.
You'll follow me to Hogwarts, he transmitted mentally. Discreetly for now, I don't know if ravens are allowed... I'll make the request once I get there.
The bird inclined its head, a gesture that strangely resembled a military salute.
Perfect. A winged ally, a financial puppet, constantly progressing magical powers, and an understanding of the elements that surpasses that of most adult wizards.
Aiden closed his notebook with satisfaction.
Hogwarts has no idea what's coming.
September 1st - Journey to King's Cross
The big day had finally arrived. Aiden woke up with that particular feeling you get before a major event, a mix of excitement and apprehension that reminded him of his first surgical operations.
Mrs. Pemberton couldn't accompany him, she had to take care of the other orphanage children. Eddie, the little eight-year-old redhead who had always admired Aiden, was designated to accompany him to the bus stop.
- "Will you come back to see us?" Eddie asked, dragging his feet on the sidewalk.
- "Of course," Aiden lied with a reassuring smile. Probably next year, during summer vacation, but not before, I have other plans.
Mrs. Pemberton hugged him long on the orphanage threshold.
- "We're going to miss you, my little one," she said, visibly struggling against tears. "Write to us often, okay? And be careful."
- "I promise," Aiden replied with a sincere smile. Deep down, the old woman had truly served as a substitute mother. Even though I've rummaged through her most intimate memories, he added mentally with a pang of guilt.
The bus ride was... revealing. Aiden settled near the window, his magical suitcase placed beside him, made practically weightless thanks to a discreet levitation charm. Eddie had left long ago.
The thoughts of other passengers reached him in waves:
- "This kid... that white hair, it's not normal at his age..."
- "His eyes... they look like liquid amber... disturbing..."
- "He seems too mature for eleven. What happened to him?"
Aiden displayed perfect indifference to these mental observations. He had long since learned to ignore people's superficial judgments. His transformed appearance, silver hair, orange eyes, features refined by magic, had become his new normal.
Instead of dwelling on parasitic thoughts, he turned his gaze toward the London sky. Through the bus window, he observed the clouds with fascination.
Up there, in the gray and white swirls, he perceived the little elemental beings dancing and playing, forming and reforming the cloudy masses according to their whims. It was hypnotically beautiful, an aerial ballet invisible to Muggle eyes.
Look at us... little wizard... we dance...
Aiden smiled discreetly. Air spirits had always had a soft spot for him since he'd learned to respect them.
Beautiful show, he transmitted mentally. You're artists.
Crystalline laughter resonated in his mind, and the clouds briefly formed a perfect spiral before resuming their usual shapes.
Arriving in central London, Aiden got off the bus and headed toward a discreet alley he had spotted. He checked that he was alone, then took out his wand.
He had exactly fifteen Galleons left in his purse, more than enough for the Knight Bus, but he had to be careful.
Here we go, he thought, raising his wand toward the sky. A brilliant Lumos burst from the tip, illuminating the dark alley.
He didn't have to wait long.
This is where the fun begins!