The Limits of Magic Sense

Surrey, Little Whinging, Privet Drive.

It was already a week into the holidays. Avada had long since returned to the orphanage and fallen back into step with his friends, caretakers, and elders. During that time, they'd asked about his life at school, so he'd picked out some interesting bits that didn't involve magic—things like the Baking Club, the Scary Chemistry Teacher, and so on.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd forgotten something important.

Then, when he'd bought a train ticket to Surrey on his own, wanting to get a look at the Chosen One ahead of time and make a pilgrimage to the site, it hit him—what he'd forgotten was that he'd never removed the Trace from his wand before leaving school.

So for this trip, he'd had no choice but to leave his wand behind at the orphanage and come to Privet Drive empty-handed. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself wandlessly, peering through the window at Harry Potter, who seemed to be washing dishes, and sighed inwardly.

His Magic Sense wasn't all-powerful.

In theory, this ability let him perceive the magical structure of everything in the world. But there were always things that magic had clearly studied, yet he couldn't see.

Things like time, fate, and love.

Sure, the wizarding world had Time-Turners, Divination, and other magic touching on those fields, but Avada had never once observed any structure in magic that might represent them.

Not only that—the curse Voldemort had placed on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position? He'd searched for a whole year and still hadn't found it.

He also hadn't figured out why splitting the soul through murder could fragment one's mental power.

And the sight before him now made him realize just how limited his ability really was. Harry Potter, right there in his field of view, registered as completely normal in his perception!

No trace of being possessed by another soul fragment. No protective spells on him either!

If it weren't for the faint sense of wrongness his own mental power gave him—just like Professor Baker's—he'd have suspected he'd transmigrated into the wrong world!

He'd been hoping to catch a glimpse of that powerful protective charm, the one that could draw strength from blood relatives and even rebound the Killing Curse. But in the end, this was all he got.

He couldn't help but let out a sigh, a headache creeping in. Things had gotten a lot harder.

In his grand plan to put Voldemort six feet under, the soul fragment inside Harry Potter was already the trickiest piece. To destroy that part, he'd have to wait until Harry turned seventeen, when Lily's protection faded, and let Voldemort personally hit him with an Avada... the Killing Curse. But if he did that, he'd have to sit back and watch Voldemort resurrect, cause chaos, kill people... how was that any different from the original story?

That was exactly why Avada had been so desperate to develop a spell that could destroy Horcruxes without damaging the container. But now, after coming here, he found he couldn't even locate Voldemort's soul. That meant even if he succeeded in that research, it probably wouldn't work on Harry...

"If only I could catch and seal Voldemort's remnant soul next semester, then I'd have plenty of time..."

"Hah, as if. Even Dumbledore couldn't do it." At that thought, he couldn't help a self-deprecating laugh.

The first book in the original story was basically a trap Dumbledore set specifically to kill Voldemort. From bringing the Philosopher's Stone into the school, to hiring Quirrell, to those defenses that a first-year could plow through—childish, no, they were childish. But even so, Voldemort still slipped through Dumbledore's fingers.

Just how slippery was that guy?

Forget it. He'd just have to stick to poisoning Voldemort's father's ashes.

Avada deactivated the Disillusionment Charm in frustration, turned around, and headed for the station. Looked like this trip was a bust.

"Here I am, with Voldemort at his weakest right in front of me, and I can't use it. Seal... seal..."

Suddenly, he stopped mid-step, frozen.

An idea had struck him. A very, very, very bold idea.

So bold he wondered if the Sorting Hat had put him in the wrong house.

Compared to life at Hogwarts, summer at the orphanage was ordinary, simple, and dull—but Avada kind of enjoyed it. Wasn't this exactly what he wanted to protect by taking down Voldemort?

Every day, he played with kids his age, tutored the younger ones in their studies, showed off the cooking skills he'd picked up in Hufflepuff at dinner, then locked himself in his room at night to secretly finish his Hogwarts homework. And just like that, time finally crawled to mid-August.

"Hey, Avada! Someone's here to see you. Says he's your friend. Is that the Baron Shafiq you mentioned?"

Avada jolted instinctively. At school, he was so used to being called "K" that, combined with his recent obsessive scheming against Voldemort, even his own name felt a little off.

"Baron? He's here? Hang on, I'll be right down..."

Avada thanked the friend who'd come to fetch him, grabbed his suitcase with one hand, and headed downstairs. A few days ago, Baron had written to say his parents were happy to host Avada and had invited him along to Diagon Alley to buy supplies for the new term. Since pure-blood families didn't have the holiday magic restriction, Avada was more than happy to oblige and had packed his bags in advance.

As soon as he got downstairs, he saw Baron standing in front of a black car, surrounded by a few orphanage kids who seemed to be chatting animatedly with him. Beside him stood a short, elderly man in a suit. From his unnatural vitality, Avada guessed he was a House-elf in disguise from the Shafiq family. How he'd gotten that outfit, though, was anyone's guess.

"K! Over here!"

Baron spotted Avada the moment he stepped out the door and immediately waved, calling out in a voice loud enough to carry but not quite shouting.

"I'm here."

Avada walked up cheerfully, luggage in hand. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, school, haha, it's really interesting..."

"Potions class? Uh... that's the chemistry class I mentioned. The teacher's super scary. That's what Baron's dialect calls it..."

"No, no, we're in different houses. They're not as good at baking as we are, but they've got other strengths—they even won the championship this year..."

"Broom-ball? That's what Baron calls it? Pfft, hahahaha..."

"Of course we have Astronomy! Every Wednesday night, we go up to the Astronomy Tower and use the telescopes there to observe the stars... That's what I mean when I say this school's one of a kind."

"That headmaster grandpa from last time? He didn't cut his beard. He likes that look..."

After chatting with the kids a while longer and watching them wander off satisfied, Avada rubbed his forehead and gave Baron a wry smile. "Look, I'm glad you're being discreet, but 'Broom-ball' is a bit... if you're stuck, just make up something like football or basketball on the spot."

"Good thing you covered for me. I'd have slipped up on my own sooner or later."

Baron let out a relieved breath, then extended a hand toward the short old man beside him. "I haven't introduced you yet. This is Charlie, my family's House-elf. He handles cleaning and daily chores."

"A pleasure, Mr. Charlie."

Avada greeted him, earning a smile from the old elf in return. "Just call me Charlie, Mr. K. Wizards don't need to use honorifics with house-elves."

"Now, Mr. K, please hand me your luggage and get in the car with Young Master Baron—we'll reach our destination in about fifteen minutes."

He pulled open the rear door and made a gesture of invitation.

Avada nodded and was about to hand his luggage to Charlie when he suddenly paused and asked, "By the way, I'm carrying my wand. If this car uses any magic, will the Trace detect it?"

"Don't worry, the Trace isn't that powerful."

Before Charlie could speak, Baron explained directly, then got into the car first. Only then did Avada relax and climb in as well—the interior seemed to have been expanded, appearing much more spacious than it looked from outside, and the seats were pleasantly comfortable.

"Please sit tight, you two. We're setting off."

With Charlie's warning, Avada heard a faint hum from behind the car, and then, with a loud pop, the scenery outside the window changed completely.