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Hi everyone!!
Several announcements: first of all, there will be no chapter tomorrow as I'm spending the weekend with my girlfriend (boo hoo, haters)...
To make up for it, I'll publish two chapters on Sunday.
Second announcement: I'd like to be in the top power stones, so starting Monday, for every 100 power stones, I'll publish a bonus chapter!
(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
Happy reading !
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Alright, here we go for the adventure, Aiden thought as he rushed toward the wall.
The sensation of crossing the magical barrier was... indescribable. Like diving into warm water, but without the humidity. One second he saw solid brick, the next he was tumbling onto a platform crowded with wizards in black robes.
An atmosphere worthy of a funeral...
And there, before him, in all its blood-red splendor...
Fuck.
The Hogwarts Express.
Aiden stopped dead, completely hypnotized. This locomotive was a marvel of engineering, a behemoth of bright red metal that seemed to come straight out of a Victorian dream. Steam escaped from its chimney in perfect spirals, the chrome gleamed under the sunbeams filtering through the platform's magical glass canopy, and every detail, from the copper handles to the perfectly aligned windows, breathed artisanal excellence.
Holy shit, he thought, observing the cars extending over an impressive length. School transport in the magical world, though behind compared to my former life, is much more impressive than among Muggles where we have rotten buses that stink of diesel...
- "Magnificent, isn't it?" said Molly Weasley, who had just crossed the wall in turn, followed by her sons and Harry. "The Hogwarts Express has existed since 1830 and has never had the slightest accident."
- "It's... it's incredible," Aiden murmured with total sincerity.
And it was true. Despite all his usual cynicism, despite his years of adult experience, he couldn't deny the pure wonder that invaded him facing this legendary locomotive.
OK Aiden, get a grip, he told himself, shaking his head. You're a thirty-two-year-old adult with memories of a neurosurgeon. Stop drooling like a kid in front of a train.
But damn, what a train.
- "Come on, get on quickly, children!" Molly said, pushing her offspring toward the cars. "The train will leave in a few minutes!"
Aiden grabbed his suitcase that he had set on the ground, well, pretended to grab it while it practically floated by itself and turned toward Molly.
- "Thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley," he said with a perfectly calculated grateful smile. "Without you, I probably would have spent the day looking for this mysterious platform."
- "Oh, it's nothing, dear. Take good care of yourself at Hogwarts. And don't hesitate to ask my sons for help if you need anything."
Yeah, like I'm going to ask for help from kids who each have a different mental problem, Aiden thought. But well, the intention is commendable.
He politely bid farewell to the Weasley family and... quickly moved away from Harry Potter.
The kid with round glasses was looking at him with curiosity, but Aiden still felt that fucking sinister hissing emanating from his scar. His mental barriers were holding firm, but the constant effort to maintain them was giving him a headache.
Sorry Harry, he thought, climbing the train steps. You're probably a nice kid, but your clandestine passenger gives me the creeps. I prefer to keep my distance for now.
The interior of the Hogwarts Express lived up to the exterior. Wood-paneled corridors, subdued lighting, red velvet seats... It was like traveling in a palace on rails.
Aiden quickly found an empty compartment toward the middle of the train. He entered, carefully closed the door behind him, and literally collapsed onto the banquette.
What a morning!
Between Harry's Horcrux that had triggered all his mental alarm systems, the stress of crossing the barrier, and the constant effort to maintain his mental barriers at maximum... he was exhausted.
Well, now that I'm alone, I can finally relax a bit.
He took out his things from his suitcase, then, without even waiting for the train to start, sat cross-legged on the banquette. Meditation position, deep breathing, and...
Dive.
Aiden closed his eyes and let his consciousness drift inward. It was like sliding into an invisible elevator descending toward the depths of his mind. The noise from the platform, the voices of other passengers, even the sensation of the seat beneath him... everything gradually disappeared.
He didn't even feel the Hogwarts Express start with a whistle of steam and begin its journey toward Scotland.
External Point of View:
The train had now been rolling for several hours through the English countryside. Green fields flashed by behind the windows, punctuated by small picturesque villages and flocks of sheep that lazily raised their heads at the passage of the magical convoy.
In the corridors, the usual excitement of the first journey of the year was in full swing. First-years were shyly introducing themselves, older students were finding their friends, and the traditional candy distribution had transformed some compartments into veritable Chocolate Frog battlefields.
It was in this atmosphere that Hermione Granger wandered the corridors, her slightly curly hair even more disheveled than usual from stress.
- "You haven't seen a toad, have you?" she asked for the umpteenth time, opening a new compartment door. "A boy named Neville lost his toad."
Really, how can you lose a toad on a train? she thought with exasperation. There are limits to inattention!
She arrived in front of a compartment whose door was closed. Through the frosted glass, she could make out the silhouette of a solitary passenger.
Maybe he saw it pass by, she thought, knocking lightly.
No response.
She gently opened the door and peeked inside.
- "Excuse me, have you seen a toa..."
Her words died in her throat.
Sitting cross-legged on the banquette, perfectly motionless, was the most... striking boy she had ever seen.
Silver-white hair that seemed almost to shine in the subdued light of the compartment. Fine, almost elvish features that gave him an air of natural nobility. And even with his eyes closed, he radiated a presence, an aura of absolute calm that contrasted violently with the general agitation of the train.
Good Lord, he's... magnificent, she thought despite herself, before immediately catching herself. Hermione! This isn't the time to think about that! You're looking for a toad!
What really impressed her was his concentration. Despite the noise she had just made opening the door, despite the constant agitation in the corridors, the boy hadn't moved a millimeter. He looked like a perfectly sculpted marble statue.
How does he manage to stay so concentrated? she wondered. I, who have read all my textbooks three times, can't concentrate for more than ten minutes with all this noise...
She observed him for a few more seconds, fascinated despite herself by this demonstration of self-control, then gently closed the door.
No point disturbing him, she decided. He seems to be meditating or something like that. And besides, he certainly hasn't seen Trevor in that state.
She headed back to the other compartments, but the image of the mysterious boy with silver hair remained engraved in her memory.
Aiden's Point of View - Inner World
Thousands of kilometers from physical reality, Aiden drifted on his brick platform through an orange fog that seemed to extend infinitely.
It had become his usual refuge when he needed to calm his mind. Here, in this inner dimension, he could finally release all his defenses, let his thoughts organize naturally, and find some semblance of peace.
But today, the fog was denser than ever. So dense that he couldn't even make out his own hands extended in front of him.
Fuck, the Horcrux in relaxation mode made me switch to auto-defense mode without me even realizing it, he thought, looking around him. What's it going to be like when Voldemort in flesh and blood stands before me.
He tried to channel some of his mental power to clear the atmosphere, but nothing happened. The orange fog remained as opaque as a concrete wall.
OK, plan B.
Aiden lay down on his platform, closed the eyes of his inner self, and focused on a simple intention: Calm. Peace. Serenity.
Slowly, very slowly, he felt his mental power respond to influence the general atmosphere of this mental space.
The platform became slightly slower and the feeling of oppression that had inhabited him since his encounter with Harry's Horcrux finally began to fade.
That's better, he sighed internally. Good, now I can...
A slight jolt made him jump. Then another. And another.
The train is slowing down, he realized. We must be arriving at Hogwarts.
He opened his eyes and slowly began to rise toward the surface of his consciousness. The process was always a bit delicate, like emerging from a very deep pool without exploding your eardrums.
Gradually, he regained the sensation of the seat beneath him, then the sounds of the train, then finally...
Damn, it's night!
Through his compartment window, he could see nothing but darkness punctuated by a few distant lights. He had meditated through the entire journey!
Well, at least I've recovered, he thought, stretching. My mental barriers are holding well, no more headache, and I feel ready to face... whatever awaits me.
He stood up, put on his wizard robes over his Muggle clothes, and quickly packed his things in his suitcase.
The Hogwarts Express was now completely stopped, and the corridors filled with the hubbub of students collecting their luggage.
Showtime, Aiden thought, opening his compartment door.
Hogsmeade station was a little jewel of rustic architecture, lit by magical lanterns that lazily floated in the night air. The air was fresh and pure, charged with that particular smell of the Scottish countryside—humid earth, wild heather, and... magic.
- "First years! First years over here!"
The thunderous voice that dominated the general chaos belonged to a man... no, a half-giant nearly three meters tall. Black, shaggy beard, black eyes sparkling with kindness, and a smile that could have melted an iceberg.
Hagrid, Aiden immediately realized. Hogwarts' gamekeeper. Fuck, he's even more impressive in real life than in description.
- "Come on, first years! No more than three per boat!"
Aiden followed the flow of eleven-year-olds toward what looked like a miniature fishing port. A flotilla of boats waited at the edge of a lake so black and so calm that it resembled liquid mirror.
- "You with the glasses, come with us!" said a female voice.
Aiden turned around and found himself face to face with a small blonde girl with sparkling blue eyes who was looking at him with a frank smile.
Hannah Abbott, he immediately identified. Future Hufflepuff, long-line wizarding family, father owner of the Leaky Cauldron.
- "Me too!" added a black boy with friendly features approaching them. Dean Thomas. Future Gryffindor, Muggle-born, football enthusiast.
Well, at least I'm falling in with people I know, Aiden thought. Well, that I'm supposed not to know.
- "Aiden Mortensen," he introduced himself politely.
- "Hannah Abbott!"
- "Dean Thomas. Cool hair. Is it natural?"
- "Uh... yeah," Aiden lied. "Too much stress when I was little."
Without further questions, all three climbed into a boat that, as soon as they were seated, began moving by itself on the black waters of the lake. No oars, no motor, just pure magic propelling them silently toward their destination.
Aiden couldn't resist the urge and let his hand trail in the icy water of the lake, and immediately, he felt them.
The elemental spirits of water.
They were different from those he was used to encountering in London. Older, more serene, more... powerful. They darted around his fingers like small free currents, and he distinctly perceived their recognition.
Hello, little wizard... welcome to our home... the waters of Hogwarts recognize you...
These weren't words, but rather emotions transmitted directly into his mind. A sensation of warm welcome, benevolent curiosity, and... freedom.
Interesting, he thought. The elements here are much more civilized than those in London.
- "Hey, look!" Dean whispered, pointing to something in front of them.
Their boat had just passed under a stone bridge covered with ivy, and suddenly...
Holy shit.
Hogwarts.
The castle stood before them in all its Gothic splendor, perched on a rocky promontory that seemed to defy the laws of gravity. Hundreds of windows shone like stars in the Scottish night, the slender towers were lost in the low clouds, and every stone seemed to vibrate with magic so ancient and so powerful that Aiden felt it in his bones.
- "Wow..." Hannah murmured, eyes wide.
- "It's... it's huge!" Dean stammered.
Aiden was completely hypnotized.
A thousand years of history. A thousand years of magic. The greatest wizards in the world have walked these corridors.
A shiver ran down his back, ambition reflecting inside his bright pupils behind his black glasses.