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The rhythmic clatter of the train against the tracks was the only sound in the compartment, a stark contrast to the tension hanging thick in the air.
Oliver broke the silence, his voice tight with anticipation. "How is it, Aiden? Have you thought of a way?"
Aiden sat still, his brow furrowed in concentration. After a long moment, he looked up, a glint in his eyes. "I think I have a plan. Want to try it?"
Oliver's eyes widened. "Try it? But is it… dangerous?" he asked nervously, his gaze fixed on Aiden's face.
Aiden grinned, a touch of mischief lighting up his features. "No."
Hope flickered across Oliver's face. "Okay, how do we do it?" He leaned forward, practically vibrating with eagerness.
Aiden turned his attention to the other occupant of the compartment. "Edmund, come and cooperate with me," he said, waving a hand in invitation.
Edmund's interest was immediately piqued. "How do I cooperate?"
Aiden leaned back, a plan forming in his mind. "Each of you, extend one hand."
Hesitantly, Edmund and Oliver each stretched out a hand, palms up. With a swift, precise motion, Aiden's fingers danced across their skin, leaving behind two small, crimson wounds.
"Now, hold your injured hands together," Aiden instructed, his voice taking on a new, commanding tone.
"Wait, Aiden, what are you doing? Isn't this… a Blood Pact?" Edmund exclaimed, alarm flashing in his eyes. He tried to pull back, but Aiden's grip was firm.
"Not exactly. I'm borrowing some properties of the Blood Pact, so the ritual will be similar," Aiden winked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Close your eyes." He met each of their gazes in turn, ensuring their compliance. Reluctantly, the two obeyed.
While their eyes were closed, Aiden moved with practiced speed. From a seemingly bottomless bag, he produced a miniature alchemy set. With swift, precise movements, he assembled the components, rapidly refining a rune-engraved alchemical liquid. He carefully mixed in drops of Oliver's blood, the liquid glowing with a faint, ethereal light. From the same bag, he produced a small, intricately crafted bracelet.
With the bracelet ready, he placed it on Oliver and Edmund's clasped hands. Then, pressing his right hand firmly to Oliver's chest, he channeled a stream of magic. The veins beneath Oliver's skin pulsed with magical energy, their nature subtly, temporarily altered.
The trace threads in Oliver's blood vessels were deceived by the bracelet, which began to simulate their pulsation, attracting the threads to coil around it like moths to a flame.
Seeing the trace threads successfully captured, Aiden swiftly, almost imperceptibly, moved the bracelet from Oliver's hand to Edmund's.
"Let go," Aiden commanded.
The two released their hands. As their skin parted, the bracelet flared with intense heat, burning away into ash, leaving no trace behind. But the trace threads, now freed from the bracelet's influence, settled near Edmund's heart, intertwining with his blood vessels.
Aiden stepped back, wiping his brow with a flourish. "Okay, open your eyes. The operation was a success. You've become lovely girls," he said with a wicked smile, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
Oliver and Edmund blinked, disoriented. A beat of silence hung in the air before they subconsciously, almost instinctively, reached down towards their chests.
Then, a moment of realization dawned, followed by a shared explosion of laughter. "Hahaha!"
Their reaction clearly amused Aiden and Ethan, who had been silently observing the whole scene. They exchanged knowing glances before joining in the laughter.
"Aiden!" Oliver and Edmund called out in mock indignation, their voices laced with amusement. The tension in the compartment had completely dissolved, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and relief.
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Edmund, still processing the events, flicked his wand absently, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So, now Oliver's trace threads are on me," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Yes," Aiden confirmed, leaning back against the plush train seat. "We deceive the trace threads with alchemical products, then transfer them. Simple, really." He offered a casual shrug.
Ethan, who had been quietly observing, raised an eyebrow. "Why not just leave the trace threads on the alchemy item? Seems simpler."
Aiden's expression turned serious, a hint of gravity in his voice. "Because this is a slavery contract. If the trace threads attached to an inanimate object develop a problem, the Ministry of Magic's contract scrolls would also burn, releasing the enslaved person." He paused, then continued, "Furthermore, alchemical items only deceive temporarily. My alchemy hasn't yet reached the level to perfectly replace living organs. The human body is far more adaptable and resilient."
He leaned forward, a glint of intellectual curiosity in his eyes. "What we achieved is called bio-alchemy, a lower branch of the highest pinnacle of alchemy—the homunculus. A true homunculus is a fully realized, artificially created being."
Edmund's eyes widened, his interest piqued once more. "Cool! But how do you perform high-speed alchemy like that? I find it incredible every time I watch."
Aiden smirked, a hint of mystery in his voice. "Well, it's not really a secret, but very few could replicate it even if I told them." He leaned back, a picture of nonchalant confidence.
"My… talent," he explained, "allows me to briefly enter a state I call the Distorted Illusion—a place outside of time and space where I can prepare complicated rituals, perform complex calculations, and refine ingredients without the constraints of the real world. Then, I instantly unfold these preparations in reality, simplifying the alchemical process exponentially."
Oliver, ever the pragmatist, frowned. "Sounds a bit like stuffing an elephant into a refrigerator."
Edmund, surprisingly, jumped in, his year of exposure paying off. "No, it's more troublesome than that. What he does is stuff a refrigerator into an elephant, ensuring the elephant is unharmed and the refrigerator works normally." He emphasized each word with a playful gesture.
Aiden chuckled, clearly amused. Edmund, who had been culturally enriched, had now become quite the worldly wizard.
As the four friends chatted casually, the rhythmic clatter of the train began to slow. A familiar announcement echoed through the carriages: "We are now arriving at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Please gather your belongings and prepare for departure."
Outside the platform, the Weasley family were already chatting and laughing.
Though the whole family had arrived, they seemed to be waiting for someone.
Seeing Aiden walk out, Molly waved to him warmly.
Aiden smiled. So, in this world, there is already a place waiting for my return.
He quickened his pace and followed the Weasley family.
"Aiden, where did you run off to? I couldn't find you on the train," Ron mumbled, mouth full of snacks.
"With my roommates," Aiden replied.
"Oh, roommates? What kind of people are they? Invite them to our house next time."
Molly was delighted that Aiden had made friends.
"That boy is Harry Potter," Ginny said excitedly upon spotting Harry.
"Be quiet, Ginny, don't point at people. It's impolite," Molly smiled.
"A busy year, isn't it?" she asked.
"Hey, it's not that much," Harry said, scratching his head and smiling sheepishly.
"Hurry up, I don't have much time to wait," Vernon said impatiently as he approached.
"Then I'm sorry for wasting your time, but could you let us reminisce a little longer?"
Aiden stepped forward, his heterochromatic vertical pupils gleaming in the sun, revealing his dragon's intimidation.
Recalling the last time he'd shocked Vernon, the man's momentum faltered, and he muttered as he walked away.
"Haha, thank you, Aiden," Harry said gratefully.
"It's nothing. Let's write to each other during summer vacation. You can come visit me anytime—either the Weasleys or the Prewetts," Aiden smiled, his eyes curving into two crescent moons sparkling like stars.
"So cunning! I wanted to invite Harry too, but you beat me to it," Ron said, folding his arms.
"I hope you—um—have a pleasant holiday," Hermione said, uncertain after seeing Vernon. She thought it strange that such a hateful person existed.
Outside the train station, Arthur was already waiting for his family.
The group followed him to a small alley where a black bucket sat.
"Okay, everyone, put your hands into the bottom of the bucket. Make sure to touch the very bottom," Arthur instructed loudly.
Aiden eyed the bucket, hesitating. Could it hold so many hands?
"It's actually bigger inside than outside. No, Uncle Arthur, how did you manage to expand the space and solidify the Traceless Extension Spell?" Aiden asked, surprised.
"Haha, that's my unique secret technique," Arthur said, beaming.
Molly, unable to stand his antics, poked him.
He quickly composed himself and placed his hand inside, feeling a strange tug at his navel.
In the dizzying world, Aiden returned to The Burrow.
Inside, he collapsed onto the sofa. That deep sense of relaxation—the feeling of home—washed over him.
George and Fred exchanged mischievous glances.
They pounced on Aiden, and the three rolled into a laughing ball.
Ginny, now grown and harbouring her own little secrets, rolled her eyes at her childish brothers and ran upstairs.
Ron busied himself with luggage but soon lost patience, pulling out a Wizard's Chess set and preparing to recruit players for his next game.
Percy, ever ambitious, began practicing for his upcoming prefect election.
As the family lights glowed warmly, night gently fell.
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