After seeing Molly and Arthur off, Aiden cast a simple Restoration Spell, and the massive crater in the reed field mended itself, leaving the ground as if it had never been disturbed.
He didn't stop there. Using the offensive magic he'd created as a base, he began to deconstruct it, breaking the power down into modular forms. Through synchronous entanglement of his magic, he reversed the principles, developing a powerful defensive technique. Finally, by imitating the flight mechanics of a dragon, he developed a method for true, unaided flight.
[Ding. You are devouring knowledge again.]
"Hmph," Aiden said to the empty field. "These three spells will be known as the Three Foundational Arts of this new magic. And from now on, this reed field will be my place of enlightenment."
[Ding. Most who claim 'enlightenment' end up in prison.]
"Shut up."
Back at The Burrow, Aiden rushed to his room and began the tedious process of documenting the techniques he had developed. He carefully copied out the spell structures, the theories behind them, and the method for crafting the simplified, popularized version of his staff.
When he was finished, he snapped his fingers. "Sibby."
The house-elf appeared instantly. "Yes, Young Master Aiden."
"Please take this original manuscript back to the family library for safekeeping," he said, handing her a thick stack of parchment.
"Of course, Young Master." Sibby took the documents and vanished with a soft pop.
Aiden then took Ophelia out of her cage, attaching the other copies to her leg. "Take these to Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick, and the others," he instructed, giving the owl a gentle stroke. With a powerful beat of her wings, she launched into the twilight sky.
That evening, at the dinner table, Aiden presented a carefully prepared scroll to Molly.
"Aunt Molly, this is the magic I've developed, along with some of the research notes. Please, accept them on behalf of your family."
Molly reached for it, but Arthur's sharp gaze fell upon her, and her hand froze in mid-air.
"Aiden," Arthur said, his voice unusually grave. "Are you certain? You are giving the Weasley family your development records. You must know that such research is a wizard's most precious property. With these ideas, one could create countless new spells."
Aiden smiled, understanding the weight of the question.
"I am certain, Uncle Arthur," he replied, meeting his gaze with equal gravity. "I need more people to participate in the research and development of this system. But I need people I can trust. In authorizing you to use this knowledge, I am entrusting you with its secrets."
Arthur's expression softened. "On behalf of the Weasley family," he said formally, "I accept."
As he spoke, a profound, unseen force seemed to settle over the table. Far away, in Romania, Charlie felt a faint warmth spread through him; in Egypt, Bill paused his work, sensing a subtle, magical shift. A bond had been forged.
Molly then solemnly took the scroll.
"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Aiden, what did you give Mum?"
Percy, the twins, and Ginny were all looking on with intense interest, though they had been cowed into silence by their father's earlier seriousness.
"Your future nightmare," Aiden said with a wicked grin, a devilish shadow seeming to flicker behind him, accentuating the horns on his head.
Ron gulped and immediately devoted his full attention to his dinner, trying to make himself as small as possible.
The next day, Aiden returned to the Prewett residence. He had just settled in when a black owl swooped through an open window, carrying a letter. He opened it and recognized Arsesi's elegant handwriting.
I want to come and play at your house. Can you come and get me? Father has already given his permission. You can just come directly!
Aiden sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Sibby!"
The house-elf appeared in the living room. "Yes, Young Master Aiden?"
"Sibby, could you please go to the Greengrass estate and pick up Arsesi?"
"Right away, Young Master." With a flash, she was gone.
With nothing else to do, Aiden settled onto the sofa to tease Lada.
"Ah, Lada, you're the best, you know," he said, placing the leopard cat on his lap and stroking her soft fur. "You never cause me any trouble."
"That's not necessarily true," Lada purred, her voice a low rumble of contentment. "The cats where I'm from are very well-behaved."
Just as they were chatting, another flash filled the room, and Sibby appeared with Arsesi in tow.
Aiden instantly fell silent, but he'd forgotten to warn his familiar. Seeing her shit shoveler suddenly clam up, Lada tilted her head.
"Human, I asked you a question. Why aren't you talking?"
Arsesi, who had been admiring the room, whipped her head around, her eyes wide. "Aiden! Your cat really can talk! I thought you were joking last time!" She rushed over and scooped Lada into her arms. "Hello, kitty! Introduce yourself! What's your name?"
Lada shot Aiden a panicked look, begging for help. Aiden just rolled his eyes. 'A so-called master of the mind, and she didn't even notice someone apparating into the room. You've gotten lazy, Lada.' This, he decided, would be a good lesson for her.
Seeing that her shit shoveler was offering no assistance, Lada resigned herself to her fate. "Hello," she said politely. "My name is Lada. I am Sequence..."
"Lada, come here!" Aiden interrupted, casting a wandless summoning charm.
"Ah, kitty!" Arsesi cried, trying to hold on.
But Lada was already flying through the air, landing gracefully in Aiden's arms.
"Aiden, what was that for?" Arsesi pouted.
"Ah, Lada doesn't really like being held by strangers," Aiden explained smoothly. "I was worried she might scratch you."
"Oh, is that so?" Arsesi said, a sly look flashing in her eyes. "I thought I heard her say 'Sequence.' What's that?"
"Ah, that. Lada is the second pet I've owned. So, I sometimes call her 'Sequence Two' as a nickname," Aiden lied with a perfectly straight face.
At that moment, Sibby came to the rescue. "Young Master, it seems Mr. Oliver is beginning to wake up."
Aiden shot Lada a glare and opened a private, telepathic channel between them.
'Keep the 'Sequence' business a secret. Keep her occupied for a little while, and I'll give you two dried fish when I get back.'
'Four,' Lada shot back instantly, not even glancing at Arsesi.
'Three. No more. Look how fat you've gotten recently.'
'Four. No bargaining,' Lada replied, making a motion as if to leap from his arms.
'...Fine. Four it is.'
The deal struck, Lada's entire demeanor changed. She perked up, leaped from Aiden's lap, and trotted over to Arsesi, rubbing against her legs and rolling onto her back to expose her belly.
'Tsk,' Aiden thought, clicking his tongue. 'It's a crime that this level of acting talent isn't in the entertainment industry.'
"Alright, Arsesi, I have to go check on something," Aiden said. "Can you watch Lada for me?" He gestured toward the front door. "Oh, and you could take her for a walk outside. She ate a lot today, and a walk would help her digestion."
Lada, who had been playfully frolicking at Arsesi's feet, froze. She looked up at Aiden, her eyes burning with a cold fire, and sent one final, silent message.
'Okay, so that's how you want to play. You're dead, shit shoveler. You are so, so dead.'
Under Lada's "affectionate" gaze, she was happily led out of the house by a delighted Arsesi.
***********
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