Leaving The Leaky Cauldron and stepping back into drab Muggle London felt like falling from a vividly colored dream into monotonous reality. The air no longer carried the strange fragrances of magical ingredients, replaced by the familiar heavy smell of coal smoke and dust. Pedestrians hurried along the streets, utterly unaware of the magical transactions that had just taken place beside them.
The subway ride back was even more crowded and noisy than before. Tom and Ares stood amid the throng, carrying bags of magical items that made them look distinctly out of place. Tom clutched his wand box and the cage containing the sharp-eyed black owl tightly to his chest, his body rigid as though enduring some torment. His dark eyes were lowered, his gaze falling on his blurred reflection in the opposite window—or sweeping over the ignorant Muggles in the carriage. Deep in his eyes lay undisguised detachment and a trace of cold superiority.
Ares stood quietly beside him, feeling the faint, tide-like warmth emanating from the box of his "Eternal Cycle" wand. His thoughts still lingered on the spectacle of intertwined light and darkness in Ollivander's shop, as well as the mysterious Black Box deep within Gringotts. He could sense the storm-before-the-calm silence radiating from Tom beside him, but he did not know how to break it.
Dumbledore stood slightly ahead of them with his back turned, seemingly engrossed in the subway map. Yet his broad figure itself was like an invisible barrier—and a silent scrutiny.
No one spoke along the way.
When the familiar, oppressive outline of Wool's Orphanage appeared at the end of their sight, Tom's pace quickened almost imperceptibly. This was no longer his prison, but his nest in waiting—a place to gather strength and await the moment he soared into the sky.
Mrs. Cole showed little surprise at their bountiful return. She merely inspected their belongings as a matter of routine and reminded them to keep their things safe. Her gaze lingered on Ares's face for several seconds, as though she wanted to discern something from his calm mismatched eyes, but she ultimately only shook her head.
By the time they returned to the cramped dormitory and carefully stuffed their purchases into the only battered suitcase beneath the bed—they needed it to keep up appearances—it was fully dark. The other children curiously eyed the strange packages and owl they had brought back, but under Tom's icy gaze, none dared come forward to ask.
Dinner was the same as always, but neither Tom nor Ares ate with much appetite.
Night completely enveloped the orphanage. The even snores of the other children filled the dormitory. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a chilly band of light between the two facing beds.
Tom did not lie down immediately as usual. Instead, he sat at the edge of his bed and opened his wand box once more in the moonlight. The Yew Wand lay quietly atop purple velvet, gleaming with a dark luster beneath the moon. He reached out and gently stroked the wand, feeling the immense power within it resonating with his soul. A nearly obsessed curve touched his lips.
Then he raised his eyes over the moonlight and looked at Ares on the opposite bed.
Ares was not asleep either. He sat cross-legged on his bed with the Black Box from Gringotts resting on his knees, Twin Soul Key in hand, his brow slightly furrowed as though attempting something.
[Host, it still won't work! (;′д｀)ゞ This seal is too high-level. It may require a specific bloodline resonance, or... a very special incantation?]
The system chattered away in his mind.
Tom watched Ares's profile as he focused on studying the box, then the strangely shaped key in his hand, and finally thought of the wand that had caused that spectacle of light and darkness earlier that day. A powerful emotion, mixed with resentment and curiosity, surged through his chest. Why did Ares always possess such... unique things? Why had Ollivander looked at him that way?
He suddenly rose and walked to Ares's bedside.
Sensing a shadow fall over him, Ares looked up and met Tom's eyes, which seemed especially deep in the darkness.
"What is that?" Tom's voice was low, carrying an unquestionable demand as his gaze locked onto the Black Box.
Ares fell silent for a moment. He knew he could not conceal everything. "I took it from the vault. It won't open." He told the truth.
Tom extended a hand, not to take the box, but to point at the "Eternal Cycle" wand beside Ares's pillow. "Your wand," he said, with a tension he did not notice in his own voice, "is different from mine."
It was not a question, but a statement.
Ares looked at Tom. In the moonlight, he could clearly see the lingering gloom in the other boy's eyes—and a trace of carefully concealed frustration. He understood. Tom's pride had taken a blow today. The powerful Yew Wood wand with its Phoenix feather core, which Tom had been so proud of, had seemed too... singular and destructive beside the harmonious spectacle of light and darkness from Eternal Cycle.
"Mr. Ollivander said that the wand chooses the wizard." Ares chose his words carefully. He did not try to comfort Tom; that would only anger him. "It reflects our nature. Your wand is powerful and focused, suited for... conquest and protection." He avoided the words "Dark Magic."
"And yours?" Tom pressed, his voice colder. "'Symbiosis of Light and Dark'? 'Understanding sacrifice'?" He repeated Ollivander's words, his tone dripping with mockery. "What is your nature, Ares? A contradictory... comforter?"
He stepped closer, looking down at Ares as an invisible pressure radiated from him. "You know my secrets. You have seen my power. Yet I know almost nothing about you." His voice was like cold threads winding around him. "That isn't fair, is it?"
This was the first time Tom had expressed his dissatisfaction with Ares's secrecy so bluntly, even with an almost obsessive demand for more. He could not tolerate such an imbalance of information, especially after deciding that Ares was his "kind" and his "ally."
Ares's heart tightened slightly. He knew this was an unavoidable growing pain in the establishment of trust, as well as an expression of Tom's desire for control. He looked up at Tom, his mismatched eyes utterly calm beneath the moonlight.
"I'm here, Tom." He did not retreat, his voice clear and steady. "Just like you. My power may be different from yours, but my goal has never changed." He pointed at himself, then at Tom, and finally toward Hogwarts beyond the window. "We're going there together."
He did not explain his origins or promise to share all his secrets, but he reaffirmed "we" and "together." That was the foundation of their relationship, and the only thing capable of soothing Tom for now.
Tom stared at him fixedly, as though trying to see through his eyes and into the deepest thoughts of his soul. Moonlight flowed quietly between them while the snores of the other children rose and fell throughout the dormitory.
After a long while, the tense pressure around Tom gradually eased somewhat. He gave a cold snort and did not press further. Ares's declaration had, at least for the moment, satisfied his need to confirm their alliance.
He turned and returned to his own bed, lying down with his back to Ares. But his tightly clenched fist slowly relaxed.
Ares watched his back and quietly let out a breath. He put away the Black Box and the key, then lay down as well.
The crisis had passed for now, but Ares knew that a crack had already formed. Tom's ambition and suspicion were like a dormant volcano, while the mysteries surrounding Ares himself were the catalyst that could ignite it. Hogwarts was no longer merely a place filled with opportunities; it would also become a far more complicated battlefield.
He looked at the sparse stars beyond the window and felt the faint resonance from the wand beside his pillow. He knew that the peaceful days had truly ended. The end of the journey home marked the beginning of another, far more turbulent journey.
Before you continue