8

The July night brought gentle breezes, and the summer heat couldn't dampen the enthusiasm of young wizards. At Dumbledore's home, Aiden listened to the sounds of children playing outside, his curiosity piqued.

He went to the window and observed the young wizards, hoping to practice Legilimency.

However, all he could perceive was the orange hue of excitement, vitality, and joy. The power of the Mind Reader allowed Aiden to instantly understand their thoughts—but this wasn't what he wanted.

After a while, he lost interest and gave up watching. The thoughts of these children were too shallow and straightforward—not ideal for practicing Legilimency.

Aiden took out the system gem, injected magic into it, and spoke silently in his heart:

"System, I have something to ask."

Ding. What question does the host have?

"I'm trying to learn Legilimency, but the synergy of the Mind Reader and Audience pathways lets me read people's thoughts directly through emotions, magic, body language, and expressions. Yet Legilimency hasn't activated. How do I coordinate magic and ability?"

Ding. Host, the activation of magic relies on magic power twisting reality through thought. While the Audience pathway also uses magic power, the distortion is focused more on the host and the collective unconscious. From there, the unconscious leverages reality.

"Then how do I suppress the influence of the Audience pathway?"

Ding. Host, are you out of control? Just use your ability to suggest it to yourself.

"System, ever since you came back from the collective unconscious sea, you've become way too human."

"..."

Having received the system's response, Aiden used his ability to suggest a mental block. Looking out the window again, he could no longer directly read thoughts through movements and magic. It was as if a veil had been drawn over them.

Now ready, Aiden raised his wand and cast, "Legilimens."

Finally, the spell activated, and he successfully read the thoughts of one of the young wizards.

"…His brain is full of sweets." Aiden rolled his eyes and gave up probing deeper.

"It seems casting Legilimency doesn't require direct eye contact," he mused. He continued practicing, reading the thoughts of several more children, and quickly grasped the technique.

Releasing his earlier suggestion, Aiden began practicing Occlumency. Using suggestion again to guide his magic, he succeeded in casting the spell and even reached the stage of creating false memories.

"Alright, next is combining spells with my abilities. I'll wait for Dumbledore to return before trying, just in case I drop dead." Without overthinking, Aiden returned to his room to rest.

The next day, Dumbledore—who had been preoccupied—finally remembered he had left a student at his house and rushed back to Godric's Hollow.

"Apologies, child. Complex affairs can make an old man forgetful. Please forgive me," Dumbledore said smoothly.

"It's fine, Professor. Actually, I finished the books you gave me and even practiced Legilimency and Occlumency," Aiden replied, catching Dumbledore off guard.

"You've practiced? On whom?" Clearly, Dumbledore was surprised—though not entirely pleased.

"...The children outside."

"Oh, child, you mustn't do that. Peeking into others' minds without permission isn't right. Many Mind Readers are shunned for such things," Dumbledore said seriously.

"Understood, Professor. I won't do it again." Aiden nodded, though the sly glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

"Well then, since you can already cast the spells, let's practice together," Dumbledore offered.

"Okay, Professor. Legilimens!" Aiden raised his wand and cast the spell without hesitation—but couldn't penetrate Dumbledore's defenses.

"Excellent casting. Your incantation and wandwork are flawless. If this were Hogwarts, I'd award five points to your house."

"Now, let's try Occlumency." Dumbledore didn't draw his wand, only looked into Aiden's eyes.

The moment their eyes met, Aiden felt a gentle wave emanating from Dumbledore's gaze, as if coaxing him to reveal every secret.

But the Mind Reader's instincts triggered an alert. Occlumency kicked in, his emotions vanished, and the power of the Audience pathway restored his composure.

"Well done. It seems you've mastered Occlumency too. I suppose my teaching duties are complete—you've essentially self-taught," Dumbledore said, clearly pleased, like a worker granted unexpected paid leave.

"Thank you for the praise, Professor. What should I do next?"

"Feel free to practice other magic here. I've left some spellbooks in the study—you can explore them. I'll be heading out again. If you want to return to The Burrow, just tell Coco to bring you back."

"Alright, Professor."

Dumbledore vanished in a flash of flame, and Aiden made his way to the study.

The room smelled of aged parchment and magic. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with thick tomes. Many covers were worn from use. A large desk near the window was cluttered with alchemy tools, potion bottles, and magical instruments.

Ancient maps and portraits of past wizards hung on the walls. The figures in the paintings appeared to be resting, eyes closed.

"Let's see what useful magic books are here." Aiden browsed the shelves.

"Whoa, this is gold—The Most Toxic Magic, Secrets of Cutting-Edge Dark Arts… Old Bumblebee, your intentions are questionable." Aiden instantly guessed Dumbledore's motives for bringing him here.

He pulled out a book on alchemy and began reading with interest.

Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was listening to the portraits.

"Is this really necessary, Albus?" Headmaster Derwent asked, clearly disapproving. "The boy hasn't even started at Hogwarts yet."

"You don't understand. That child has an extraordinary power—one that touches on the mind. I don't know if it's a talent or a spell. It reminds me of an old friend," Dumbledore explained calmly.

"That boy's a Prewett! You're slandering a pure-blood wizard!" Phineas Nigellus Black roared indignantly.

"Shut up, Phineas!" one of the other portraits snapped. A chaotic scuffle broke out among the frames.

"Alright, you're the Headmaster. We're just dead portraits—we can't interfere," Derwent sighed at last.

Dumbledore waved his wand. All the portraits fell silent as their canvases dimmed, leaving the Headmaster's Office quiet.

Dumbledore sat alone, deep in thought.

End of the Chapter.