Letters and Probes

After Dumbledore left, the stagnant air in the office seemed to melt away instantly, only to be quickly filled with a new, more complex emotion.

Mrs. Cole let out a long sigh, as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted, or as if she had been swept into a vortex beyond her comprehension. She rubbed her temples, looking at the two boys clutching their parchment envelopes before her with an inscrutable gaze. In the end, she simply waved her hand, her voice tinged with exhaustion, "Alright, you two can go back now. Remember what the professor said, be prepared."

Tom stood up almost immediately, clutching the acceptance letter tightly as if it were the weight of his entire life. He didn't look at Mrs. Cole, nor did he wait for Ares. He turned directly and walked out the door, his steps more hurried and determined than when he arrived, disappearing like a black shadow.

Ares politely nodded to Mrs. Cole and said, "Thank you, Madam," before following Tom out.

Tom's figure was no longer visible in the corridor. Ares knew he must have returned to their secret spot—the rooftop, or a deserted corner of the dormitory. He needed space to process this immense shock, to savor this "ticket" to power and the unknown world alone.

Ares didn't go to find him right away. He took his own letter and returned to the temporarily empty dormitory. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the dirty window, casting dappled halos on the letter. He carefully broke the thick wax seal, and a faint, peculiar scent of parchment and ink wafted out.

The contents of the letter were much the same as what he already knew: the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Armando Dippet (Ares mused: this kind but confused old headmaster), sincerely invited him to enroll. Attached to the letter was a long list of required items: robes, pointed hat, protective gloves, a wand made of dragon hide or similar material... and a list of first-year textbooks: Standard Book of Spells, Elementary, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, and so on.

These familiar book titles made Ares's heart beat a little faster. This wasn't a game, nor a story, but a world he was about to step into for real.

[Wow! (?ω?) Host, host! It's an official acceptance letter! We really did it! Hurry and look at the list, we need to go buy a wand! And robes! And...] The System chirped excitedly in his mind.

Ares's lips curved upwards involuntarily. But amidst the joy, Dumbledore's deep and probing gaze at the end felt like cold raindrops falling on the fervor in his heart. He knew Dumbledore's suspicion of him far outweighed his suspicion of Tom. Tom's danger was overt and predictable, while he, Ares Phoenix, was a complete enigma, closely tied to Dumbledore's past.

In the evening, as the setting sun painted the sky orange, Ares found Tom on the rooftop.

Tom stood with his back to him, at the edge of the rooftop, the evening breeze ruffling his jet-black hair. He still clutched the letter, but his emotions seemed to have calmed, leaving only a cold, burning determination. He didn't turn around when he heard footsteps.

"He suspects you," Tom stated calmly, breaking the silence.

Ares walked up to him, standing shoulder to shoulder as they looked down at the London streets, where scattered lights were gradually coming on. "I know," he replied just as calmly.

"Because of your eyes? And that pattern?" Tom turned his head, his dark eyes flashing sharply in the setting sun. "The way he looked at you was different." There was shock in that gaze, remembrance, and even... a trace of imperceptible pain. This made Tom feel a strange irritation, as if the attention belonging to him had been divided.

Ares was silent for a moment, not answering directly. He raised his hand and gently brushed the golden chain pattern below his left eye, feeling its slight warmth. "This might... be related to my origins. Even I don't fully understand it myself." This was the truth; he couldn't explain the Blood Pact and the System to Tom.

Tom stared at him, seemingly judging the truthfulness of his words. After a moment, he suddenly reached out, his movement so fast that Ares had no time to react. His cool fingertips briefly touched the pattern below Ares's left eye.

Both of them trembled slightly at the same time.

Tom snatched his hand back as if burned, a flicker of unnaturalness flashing across his face before being masked by his usual indifference. He felt an extremely faint, yet ancient and profound echo of magic, similar yet distinctly different from his own power.

Ares felt a ripple in the power of the Blood Pact from that touch, as if something dormant had been gently stirred.

"It doesn't matter," Tom averted his gaze, looking into the distance again, his tone returning to its usual calm and controlling demeanor. "What matters is that we got the tickets. That world..." The flame of ambition rekindled in his eyes, "...will be our starting point."

He no longer dwelled on Dumbledore's attitude or Ares's secrets, at least not outwardly. For him, the outcome was the most important thing. Now, they stood on the same starting line, with the same opportunity.

"We need to understand that world," Ares followed his words, taking out his own letter and list. "Before we go to that 'Diagon Alley,' we need to know what we're facing." He handed the list to Tom.

Tom took it, his eyes quickly scanning the names of the items, lingering particularly on the word "wand." "We'll figure it out," he said with certainty, a confidence that brooked no argument.

In the following days, the atmosphere between the two entered a new phase. A sense of excitement, focused on their goal and actively preparing, replaced the previous anxiety of waiting. They still shared the books they found, but their conversations began to revolve more around the list and the A History of Magic. Tom showed great interest in wands, repeatedly studying the descriptions of materials on the list, while Ares focused more on the knowledge systems that the textbooks might cover.

They remained the two taciturn boys in the orphanage, but in unseen corners, their eyes gleamed with a shared desire and planning for the new world that was about to arrive.

Until one afternoon, Tom somehow procured a more tattered, but seemingly more informative, miscellaneous book filled with folk legends. He pointed to a blurry illustration depicting wizards moving between shops on a bustling street, then looked up at Ares, his dark eyes shining:

"Look here. This might be... 'Diagon Alley'."

The drawing was crude, but the mystery and bustle already leaped from the page.

The first stop on the path to the magical world, its veil was slowly being lifted by two youths eager to break free from their constraints.

[New Task Prompt: (???) Knowledge Acquisition! Host and target individual are instructed to learn as much basic knowledge about the wizarding world as possible before heading to Diagon Alley. This will help you adapt and choose better.]

[Reward: Unlock corresponding knowledge base and a small amount of gold coins based on the level of understanding.]

Ares looked at the blurry illustration, then at Tom, who was studying it intently beside him. He knew their next journey was imminent. And the questions and scrutiny left by Dumbledore would follow them, entering that magical alleyway together.