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The July night was gentle, and the summer breeze drifted through open windows, carrying with it the laughter and shouts of young wizards playing outside. Aiden, staying at Dumbledore's house, found himself drawn to the window, curiosity piqued by the sounds of the children. He wondered if he could use this opportunity to practice Legilimency.
He leaned against the sill and observed the group of young wizards running about in the garden below. As he focused, his mind-reading ability immediately revealed a bright orange aura swirling around them—enthusiasm, vitality, and uncomplicated joy. Their thoughts were so simple and straightforward that Aiden could instantly sense what each child was thinking. Yet, this wasn't what he wanted. He needed complexity, depth, and challenge to truly practice Legilimency.
After a while, he lost interest and stepped away from the window. The minds of children were too open, too shallow, and not suitable for meaningful practice. He sighed, then took out the system gem from beneath his shirt, feeling its cool weight in his palm. Injecting a bit of magic into it, he spoke silently in his mind.
"System, I have a question."
A familiar chime echoed in his consciousness. "Ding. What would you like to ask, host?"
"I'm trying to learn Legilimency, but my mind-reading ability lets me instantly read people's thoughts through their emotions, magic, body language, and expressions. Legilimency itself doesn't seem to activate. How should I coordinate my magic and my ability?"
"Ding. Host, the activation of magic is about twisting reality under the influence of thought. While the extraordinary ability of the Visionary Pathway also involves magic, its focus is more on the host's own mind and the collective unconscious. The collective unconscious, in turn, links to the real world."
"So how do I block the influence of my supernatural abilities?"
"Ding. Has the host lost control? Simply use your ability to give yourself a suggestion."
Aiden smirked. "System, you've become more and more human since you returned from the collective unconscious."
The system fell silent, as if embarrassed.
Following the advice, Aiden used his ability to give himself a mental suggestion. When he looked out the window again, the direct insight into thoughts through movement and magic was gone, as if a thin mist had settled over his perception.
Feeling ready, Aiden drew his wand, focused on one of the young wizards outside, and whispered, "Legilimens."
This time, the spell activated properly. He felt his consciousness brush against the mind of a boy in the garden—and immediately saw a swirl of images: chocolate frogs, licorice wands, and a longing for Honeydukes. Aiden rolled his eyes. "His mind is nothing but sweets."
He tried again with another child and another, quickly mastering the mechanics of Legilimency. He noted that using a wand, he didn't need direct eye contact to read surface thoughts. The spell was effective, but the simplicity of his targets left him wanting more.
Satisfied with his progress, Aiden released the suggestion on himself and turned to Occlumency. He practiced inducing magic through self-suggestion, focusing on clearing his mind, shielding his thoughts, and even fabricating memories. Soon, he found he could construct entire scenes in his mind, hiding his true self behind layers of illusion.
"Next, I'll try combining the spell with my ability. But I'd better wait until Dumbledore is here—just in case," Aiden thought. He put his wand away and returned to his room for the night.
*****
The next day, Dumbledore, after a long day of school business, finally remembered he had left a student at home. He hurried back to Godric's Hollow, his robes swirling behind him.
When he arrived, he found Aiden reading in the study. "I must apologize, child. With so many things on my mind, it's easy to forget. Please forgive an old man's absentmindedness."
Aiden smiled. "It's all right, Professor. I've finished reading the books you gave me, and I've also practiced Legilimency and Occlumency."
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "You've practiced? On whom?"
Aiden hesitated, then admitted, "On the young wizards playing outside."
Dumbledore's expression grew serious. "Aiden, we mustn't use such magic to pry into others' thoughts without consent. Many Legilimens find themselves shunned because of this. Always remember, respect for others' privacy is as important as any spell you'll ever learn."
Aiden nodded, though a mischievous glint flickered in his eyes. "Understood, Professor. I won't do it again."
Dumbledore studied him for a moment, then smiled. "Now that you can cast the spells, let's practice together."
"Of course, Professor." Aiden stood, drew his wand, and cast, "Legilimens!" He focused on Dumbledore, but the old wizard's defenses were impenetrable. It was like trying to read a book sealed in a vault.
"Excellent casting," Dumbledore praised. "Your spellwork and movement are just right. If this were Hogwarts, I'd award your house five points."
Dumbledore then met Aiden's gaze, his own wand still at his side. "Now, let's try Occlumency."
The moment their eyes met, Aiden felt a gentle wave of magic from Dumbledore, as if the professor was inviting him to share every secret. Instinctively, Aiden's mind-reading ability flared, warning him. He activated Occlumency, letting his mind become a calm, empty surface. All emotions faded, and his thoughts retreated behind a wall of silence.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with approval. "You've mastered Occlumency quite well. It seems my teaching task is already complete—or rather, you've completed it on your own."
He looked genuinely pleased, like a teacher whose student had surpassed every expectation.
"Thank you, Professor. What should I do next?" Aiden asked.
"Perhaps you can practice other magic here. I've left several books for you in the study—feel free to explore them. If you wish to return to the Burrow, just ask Coco to arrange it."
"Thank you, Professor," Aiden replied.
Dumbledore departed in a swirl of robes and a flash of magic, leaving Aiden alone in the quiet house.
Aiden wandered into the study, breathing in the scent of old parchment and leather. The shelves were lined with thick, well-worn tomes. Some had gilded titles; others were faded and cracked with age. A massive desk stood by the window, cluttered with alchemical tools, vials of potion, and strange magical instruments. Ancient maps and portraits hung on the walls, the painted figures appearing to nap with their eyes closed.
Aiden ran his fingers along the spines of the books, reading the titles. "The Most Toxic Magic," "Secrets of Cutting-Edge Dark Arts," and other forbidden-sounding works. He grinned. "Dumbledore, you sly old fox. You want me to see the darkness as well as the light."
He selected a book on alchemy and settled into a comfortable chair, losing himself in its pages.
*****
Meanwhile, far away in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was deep in conversation with the portraits of former headmasters.
"Is this really necessary, Albus?" said Headmaster Dilys Derwent, her tone disapproving. "He hasn't even started at Hogwarts yet."
"You don't understand," Dumbledore replied. "That child possesses an extraordinary power, something related to the mind. I cannot say if it's a talent or a charm, but it reminds me of an old friend."
"That boy is a Prewett! You're slandering his good name and the honor of pure-blood wizards!" Phineas Nigellus Black shouted, his voice echoing in the chamber.
"Oh, be quiet, Phineas," another portrait snapped, as several former headmasters attempted to restrain the indignant Slytherin.
Dilys Derwent sighed. "Well, you are the current headmaster. We, the dead, cannot interfere with your decisions."
With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore silenced the portraits, drawing a curtain over their frames. The headmaster's office fell silent, leaving Dumbledore alone with his thoughts, gazing out the window at the moonlit grounds, pondering the future of the remarkable boy now under his care.
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