"You should come with us," the young Gael invited John, his tone coaxing. "It's quite interesting."
"He's an interesting person," Gael added. "Full of wisdom."
"Unfortunately, wisdom isn't what I'm after," John replied flatly.
What a joke. Well.. Back then, the Sorting Hat didn't even mention any Ravenclaw traits in me.
"Power above all," Gael continued smoothly, picking up John's words. "Which is why change is even more necessary, including for this magical world."
Gael was an ambitious person. He was like a venomous creature constantly exuding poison, always trying to inject his ideas into other people's minds.
Yet when facing John, he instead felt as though he was the one being influenced.
Power above all.
That was something Gael had heard from John.
It happened to align perfectly with his own thinking.
The difference was that what Gellert pursued was wizard domination over Muggles.
As for John, it was simple: the strong rule.
Gellert wanted John to join his grand vision, for the so-called greater good.
And there was another person as well. Al.
Equally outstanding, yet a boy whose wings were bound by family.
Unfortunately, John had no interest in getting involved in children's games. He replied perfunctorily, "It is interesting indeed. But changing the world has never been something you can accomplish just by talking about it, Gael."
With a light flick of his wand, the prepared items on the table neatly slid into the arranged boxes.
"Well then, Yorl, I think Al would be very happy to see you. We'll be heading to the church today." Unable to persuade John, Gellert had no choice but to leave.
They had practically walked all over Godric's Hollow.
Putting the box away, John took out his homemade eye drops and dripped them into both eyes.
It made his eyes even drier, accompanied by a faint, burning sting.
He blinked hard. The originally lifeless eyes, after two blinks, transformed into vertical pupils.
With another blink, they returned to normal.
"Almost a month already."
Time had passed quickly, and June had arrived.
John frequently checked his condition. Time travel placed a tremendous burden on the body.
Some people, after traveling back to the past and then returning to their original time, found their bodies had aged decades in an instant.
John's body had also developed some strain from time travel, but his lifespan was long, so the burden was not obvious.
After greeting Bathilda, John headed into the woods again.
Ever since that tail appeared behind him last time, it had been showing up more and more often.
Whenever John turned back, the follower would stop. And every time they reached that stream, the person would stop following.
This time was no exception.
John stopped at the stream and turned to look at the person following him.
"Are you going to keep following me?" he asked.
Ariana stared at the stream and came to a halt.
Seeing this, John sighed softly. "You want to cross, don't you?"
He could sense her emotions. She was an unstable child, so John did not act too harshly.
Unlike before, Ariana hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
John could just barely make out the movement.
"In that case, I'll take you across."
He motioned for her to come closer. Ariana stepped to John's side.
He did not touch her. Instead, he drew his new basswood wand and pointed it toward the stream.
"If you're afraid of the water, then we'll just stop it here."
The wand rose upright as John gave it a gentle downward sweep.
"Splitand Patetio."
An invisible blade split the flowing stream.
It slowly parted from the middle.
A slick path beneath the water was revealed.
John extended his wand toward her and encouraged gently, "Hold onto my wand. I'll take you across."
Ariana looked timidly at the parted stream, gathered her courage, and carefully pinched the tip of the wand with her fingers.
John stepped forward, and Ariana tried to follow.
Stepping onto the waterless streambed, Ariana did not let go this time.
John smiled faintly. He was very patient with the little girl, his voice softening. "Watch the stones."
Gripping the tip of the wand, her nervous emotions traveled through it. Under John's guidance, she made it across the stream.
John tried to pull his wand back, only to find it was being held tightly.
Ariana was still afraid, radiating unease and fear.
"It's alright. Just hold on tight," John said, no longer trying to retrieve the wand, letting her keep her grip.
They walked into the woods. From time to time, John would lower his head to pick up a herb and bring it close to his nose to smell.
With a little tail following behind him, John didn't mind.
It was just that sometimes she would suddenly stop, forcing John to halt as well.
Ariana looked up at the birds on the branches, the rabbit hopping through the bushes, and the squirrel clutching nuts.
They walked and stopped in turns. As the weather grew warmer, John returned to the stream, preparing to cross again.
The stream he had split earlier was already flowing once more and needed to be parted again.
He flicked the wand twice.
John glanced at the wand being tightly gripped and said patiently, "I need to stop the water again."
He explained, but Ariana refused to let go no matter what.
She needed something to hold onto, something to rely on.
John felt a headache coming on. Great, now he had picked up a troublesome tagalong.
Her emotions were extremely unstable. If he forcibly pulled the wand away, she might fall into panic and lose control.
John tried extending his hand toward her. "If you're scared, hold onto this hand."
Ariana lowered her head and stared at the offered hand, then slowly released the wand.
Her soft fingers touched John's right hand, making him pause.
She didn't grasp his whole hand. Instead, she hooked her little finger around John's.
The restless emotions gradually began to settle.
John smiled faintly and used his wand to part the stream once more.
He led the gradually calming Ariana across.
When they reached the bank, Ariana still didn't let go, so John could only walk back with her.
Only after they arrived at the yard that carried the scent of morning glories did Ariana finally release his hand.
Watching her enter the house, John then headed next door to Bathilda's home.
However, he did not know that Ariana's departure this time had left Al frantic with worry.
…
As usual, Al returned from his outing with Gael.
There was a smile on his face that was different from the one he wore at home.
The gloom and oppression of this household had almost made the boy forget how to smile.
He had become a little carried away.
Gael was a very interesting friend, full of charisma, and the two of them shared a common language.
Al was deeply fascinated by him; they were both strongly drawn to each other.
Bathilda was more than happy to see this boy with bound wings find some joy, and she was pleased by the mutual attraction between the two young men.
Al had become enamored with this feeling, even to the point of craving it.
In the church, Al and Gael had spoken from the heart, their conversation ranging from magic to family, and then to his sister Ariana.
His sister was both a knot in his heart and a responsibility.
But when Al returned home, he discovered that Ariana was not in her room.
He panicked.
Calling out his sister Ariana's name.
He was terrified something had happened to her, just like when she was six years old.
Ever since that day, Ariana had been filled with danger.
She was unstable. A few weeks ago, during one of her outbursts, Ariana had killed their mother.
She was a patient. A dangerously unstable patient.
"Ariana!" Al searched frantically.
Just as he was about to rush out the door, he saw Ariana returning.
Al hurried forward, about to question her in a stern tone.
But he stopped.
For he saw that on his sister's usually dull face, there was now a faint brightness.
Ever observant, Al noticed the damp mud on Ariana's shoes.
"You went to the stream, Ariana?" Al asked gently, betraying none of his earlier panic.
Ariana nodded slowly, and surprise appeared in Al's handsome blue eyes.
His sister was very afraid of water. It was related to that attack.
So Ariana never touched the stream. Even when his younger brother brought her there, they would only stay on the grass beside the water, watching the lambs nibble on tender shoots.
Al realized that Ariana was changing.
It was a good change. Ariana was gradually opening her heart.
But Al felt deeply troubled.
He had never dared let Ariana go out, because he was afraid she might hurt someone.
But now, because of his own negligence, Ariana had not only left the house but had even gone to the stream she feared most.
He didn't dare imagine what might have happened.
While Al was still lost in thought, Ariana walked into her room.
She looked out the window, a faint sense of anticipation in her heart, hoping the white-haired boy would pass by the door.
…
John was dragged away by Gael.
That guy still hadn't given up on trying to recruit John.
John did want to refuse, but Gael was someone skilled at making use of the people around him.
He had already told Bathilda that he planned to take John and the pitiful Al next door out together.
Bathilda agreed and told them to have fun.
After thanking his great-aunt, Gael raised his brows smugly at John.
As if to say, see? Stop resisting.
Unfortunately, he seemed to have forgotten that John was blind.
So his smug look was completely wasted.
John could only leave the attic with Gael, tossing the copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard—which had somehow been stuffed into his room for who knew how many times—over to him.
They headed to the neighbor's house. Because of what had happened with his sister earlier, Al was not very willing to leave.
There were only two people in the house, and one of them was his ill sister.
Gael simply went to Al's home instead.
The moment they entered the yard, the scent of morning glories mixed with other flowers drifted into their noses.
It was John's second meeting with the red-haired Al.
____
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