Alan knew better than to be careless; he didn't yet possess the strength to stand his ground openly.
Aliana, standing beside him, watched as he stared blankly into the falling snow. Thinking he was simply being dull and ignoring her, a mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. She bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and packed it into a firm ball. Aiming for the back of Alan's head, she gave it a playful toss.
But just as the snowball was about to impact, it froze mid-air. Alan turned his head slowly. With a flick of his gaze and no physical movement at all, the suspended snowball whipped back toward Aliana at twice its original speed. It caught her squarely in the face, the force knocking her backward onto the ground. She sat up, blinking through the white powder, looking utterly bewildered.
"You are too weak," Alan said softly. Without another word, he turned and walked away from Clock Tower Square.
Aliana remained frozen on the ground, watching his retreating figure. It took several seconds for her face to flush crimson before she finally shrieked, "You're crazy!"
Alan, already a fair distance away, was completely oblivious to how socially tone-deaf he had been. He wore a pensive expression, wandering aimlessly through the deepening white. Gradually, the snowflakes swirling around him seemed to follow a hidden current, circling him in a slow dance, yet Alan appeared entirely lost in thought.
He had entered a mysterious state of enlightenment, as if he had grasped a fundamental truth that remained just out of reach. By the time he regained full awareness, he had reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Around him, a nebula of snowflakes spiraled like a galaxy of tiny stars.
With a single thought, he sent the snow surging upward into the sky like a localized storm.
"My Levitation Spell," Alan whispered, sensing the flakes around him. "It seems to have broken through its limitations." He felt as if he could control anything within his immediate vicinity at will, a far cry from the intense focus previously required to move a single object. Now, anything within range—snow, air, perhaps even water—was subject to his influence.
"I suppose I can't stay cooped up for too long; sometimes a change of scenery is necessary," Alan mused, marveling at the shift.
Then, a sudden idea struck him. He began to mobilize his magic, focusing the energy inward and around his own center of gravity. His magic surged, and his feet slowly lifted off the snowy ground without the help of a single enchanted item.
"It actually works! Does this mean I won't need a broom to fly?" He had tried similar feats before, but no matter how he cast the spell, he had never been able to make himself buoyant. Now, he floated half a meter high, bobbing gently back and forth, enjoying the novelty of it.
After a few minutes, he drifted back to the ground to analyze the practicalities. For now, the application was limited; he could only reach a height of five or six meters before the strain became too much, and his speed was nowhere near that of a racing broom. But it was undeniably impressive.
"With practice, the speed and altitude should improve," Alan calculated.
Still, the gains of the day were significant. The heavy snowfall had provided the perfect medium for him to reach this new level of magical control. He could feel that his overall perception of magic had sharpened. Taking a long breath, he centered himself and began the trek toward Hagrid's hut.
Since his breakthrough in the snow, Alan no longer spent every waking hour in his room. He took occasional walks to appreciate the winter scenery or chat with Vivian. Soon, the Christmas holiday arrived. Alan packed his trunk and headed to the station for the journey home.
On the steam train, Alan and Vivian sat across from each other, watching the white landscape blur past. Charles was sitting with friends from his own house, leaving the two of them alone in the compartment.
"Alan, what are you sketching? Any big plans for the break? My dad is taking me to France. I heard the perfume there is legendary; I'm hoping for a bottle of my own," Vivian said, chattering away as usual. Having lived in Muggle society before rejoining her family, she felt like a bridge between the two worlds, which made their conversations effortless.
"France? You'll have to take plenty of photos. I'm just planning out my Christmas gifts—I'm trying to decide what to give my friends. Speaking of which, what do you want?" Alan admitted he was terrible at gift-giving. Left to his own devices, he would simply give everyone books, though he knew most wouldn't appreciate that.
"If I tell you exactly what I want, there's no surprise, is there? Do you tell people what you want when they ask?" Vivian rolled her eyes.
"If you gave me a copy of the Magic Rune Collections, that would be perfect. I've wanted that set forever, but it's too expensive. Or a crate of two hundred standard potion vials would be great too," Alan said, his eyes lighting up. He knew Vivian's family was wealthy and saw no harm in being direct.
"Uh..." Vivian blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. She turned her head away with a pout, ignoring him for a moment.
Alan wasn't sure if that was a yes or a no, but he didn't dwell on it. He turned back to his list. "What do you give a family that just had a baby? I thought about toys, but what do you think?"
Vivian shook her head at his lack of social grace. "What use does a newborn have for toys? Their parents have likely bought everything they need. If it were me, I'd look for bedtime storybooks or a nice music box that plays lullabies. What do you think of that?"
Alan considered it and found it much more sensible. He began crossing out items on his paper and rewriting them. He continued to consult Vivian on the rest of his list. While Alan was a natural at tactics and study, when it came to the nuances of social etiquette and the thoughts of girls, he was completely out of his depth.
Would you like me to continue with Alan's arrival at the orphanage or his meeting with the Potters during the holiday?
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