Removing the Trace

The sun was already setting in the west, but the temperature hadn't dropped much.

In the late June summer, time seemed to pass exceptionally slowly on the bustling streets, and the long wait made one feel restless.

The elderly man, wearing a blue striped short-sleeved shirt, appeared upright even while squatting on the ground. The folds in his shirt looked comfortable and smooth. His light brown sunglasses Gnome, and his gray hair made him look even more energetic and robust.

Beside him stood a fat, middle-aged man with a large belly, looking as if he had just been pulled out of the water. His gray vest and tan short-sleeved shirt were soaked through and clung to his flesh. He was tanned and shiny, and looked listless from the heat.

The stylish elderly man stood in stark contrast to the middle-aged, overweight man beside him, causing Vernon Dursley to glance at him frequently and secretly suspect that Bates was also one of those oddballs. However, looking at his attire and the expensive car behind him, Vernon silently swallowed all his doubts.

Bates held the yellowish sun hat in his hand and fanned himself gently, his elbow slightly turned outward so that the fat man next to him could also get some coolness.

"Harry's uncle, I'll call you Vernon. You can't keep going like this. My friend said that obesity makes blood vessels as brittle as glass, and they'll shatter at the slightest touch."

"I don't believe it!" Vernon retorted stubbornly, but his expression clearly betrayed some guilt. "Our family is already controlling our diet, I'll lose weight soon, and so will my son!"

"You have a son?"

Speaking of his son, Vernon became noticeably more animated, proudly introducing him. "My son isn't some kind of wizard. He goes to Smeltings School. Although his grades are a little average, he excels in everything else. Last semester, he even won the Southeast Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Championship and has made many friends..."

"Really? That's amazing..."

Bates brushed off his boasting and bragging, while carefully watching the people leaving the station. When he saw a familiar figure, his eyes lit up, and he casually pulled his hat over his head and got up to walk over.

Reaching Loren, Bates took his suitcase and tapped him on the head, grumbling, "I've told you so many times, as a gentleman, you don't even know to offer to carry a lady's suitcase when you're traveling..."

"I've said it several times already, the suitcase is empty, it's just for show." Loren said with a helpless expression.

Bates' eyes widened even more upon hearing this, and she glared at him fiercely. "You still dare to say that? You didn't even take an empty box?"

Loren remained silent and took Hermione's box without saying a word.

You can't reason with this person; he's unreasonable.

Hermione followed behind with a smile, watching the grandfather and grandson stuff the box into the trunk. The indignant man released the owl, intending to let it fly back on its own.

The Hānhan was quite happy, affectionately nuzzling its owner's cheek before spreading its wings and soaring into the sky, venting all the frustration it had felt while stuck in the train carriage the whole way.

Loren opened the car door for Hermione to get in first. He looked up and saw Harry, after saying goodbye to the Weasley family, walking to his uncle's side. He noticed Harry was drenched in sweat, and his eyes behind his glasses flickered slightly. Vernon Dursley, completely oblivious to his thoughts, swayed his large frame as he opened the car door and got into the driver's seat.

The two didn't exchange a single word when they met, even more indifferent than strangers.

Loren didn't want to interfere in Harry's relationship with his aunt and uncle, but he suddenly remembered the matter of the Trace. Harry was under 17 and still under the Trace's surveillance; the Ministry of Magic could locate him at any time, and any spells he cast in an emergency would be detected.

In previous summers, this wouldn't have been a big deal, but Voldemort had regained his physical form, and there were Death Eater lurking in the Ministry of Magic, plus Sirius Black no longer lived near the Dursley house...

Loren hesitated for a moment, then called out to him, "Harry, come here for a second."

"Is there something you need?"

"Stretch out your right hand."

"What?" Harry looked even more puzzled, but still reached out his hand out of trust.

A hand with distinct knuckles, the fingertips slightly calloused. Loren's gaze fell on the third knuckle of the ring finger. From a more discreet perspective, a thin thread circled there, light and ethereal, like smoke or mist, closely following the movement of the finger, yet the owner of the finger felt nothing.

Noticing Loren's gaze, Harry nervously withdrew his hand slightly. "Is... is there a problem?"

"No problem..."

Loren recalled what happened three years ago, when he and Hermione had just signed their contract with the Ministry of Magic. Trace sprouted from the thin parchment and clung to their fingers. After consulting Dumbledore, he used the power of the Sorcerer's Stone to break the Trace.

Back then, he struggled to control such immense power; the surging Magic Power surged and crashed within him, causing some disarray. Three years later, he had a deeper understanding of Magic Power and his control had become much more refined. Whether it was the methodical spell practice in class or the unrestrained use of magic in duels, he could now control it with perfect precision and ease.

More importantly, the dream of the starry sky that night caused his Magic Power to increase like never before.

Lowering his eyes, Loren placed one hand on the car door and stretched out the other, his index finger touching the ring finger entwined with the Trace. Vast Magic Power poured out, flowing into his fingertip inch by inch.

He said softly, "Trace."

Before Harry could think about the Trace, he felt a slight warmth surge into his ring finger. An invisible force made the surrounding air make a soft, muffled sound. Then, something soft yet resilient seemed to crumble, and a sense of relief inexplicably arose in his heart.

He roughly understood that this was what was called the Trace.

Harry's eyes widened. "So... I can use magic freely during the summer vacation!?"

Hermione, who was sitting in the back seat of the car, had already noticed their movements. Upon hearing this, she immediately leaned out and warned logically, "As long as you don't violate the Statute of Secrecy or alert the Ministry of Magic, otherwise the Ministry of Magic will still take notice of you."

Noticing that she showed no surprise whatsoever, Harry narrowed his eyes and asked, "When did you two remove your Trace?"

"Cough..."

Hermione guiltily looked away, slowly moving back to her seat inside, her voice even softer than Fairy's, "A little bit earlier than you."

Harry looked at Loren and pressed, "How much earlier is 'earlier'?"

"Have a wonderful summer vacation. We're in a hurry to get back for dinner. Goodbye!"

"..."

Harry watched as the expensive car skillfully backed out of the parking space, started the engine, and sped away, leaving only the gradually dissipating exhaust fumes. He was both happy that he could now cast spells freely, and indignant about the behavior of his two friends. His eyes were complicated and his expression was conflicted.

Don't think he can't see it; he's been Trace's affair a secret from him for at least a year!