July 29th was Damon's birthday.
Just two days shy of Harry's birthday, the Savior. It was both this body's birthday and Damon's birthday in his past life.
He wasn't a man of ceremony, though. Birthdays held no significance for him. In his past life, before they broke up, his ex-girlfriend would remind him and send him flowers. In this world, if it weren't for the Headmistress reminding him, he'd often forget.
But now, he clearly had more people who valued him.
This summer, Damon had been staying at the orphanage. With new funding, Sacred Heart of Mercy had undergone another round of renovations. The Headmistress had specially prepared a room for Damon, designed to his liking, on the top floor of the fifth floor, in a minimalist style. After Damon moved in, several Transfiguration spells were applied to the interior design. The room now had the style of a 22nd-century villa, with panoramic windows on three sides, only the west side obscured by a large bookcase.
From the outside, however, everything looked normal.
Aside from occasional trips out to search for clues about Voldemort—like going to Diagon Alley for a drink and ice cream, or Knockturn Alley to buy some magical items—Damon spent the rest of his days at home, studying alchemy on his own.
He used Transfiguration to expand the entire wall of books, automatically sorting each one by topic:
from basic theory and alchemical history to advanced runes, magical transmutation, and elemental reconstruction.
Alchemy was far more complex than he had imagined.
It wasn't like Potions class, which relied on formulas, nor was it like spells, which relied on memorization and gestures. Alchemy was a fusion of magic and logic, intuition and mathematics—a blend of rationality and sensibility, mixed with a crucial touch of spirituality. That was alchemy.
He took notes with a quill, using levitation to control his experimental equipment to hover in the air, attempting a simple transmutation exercise—transforming crystal sand into simple magical glass.
It was a bit like an experiment, but with the addition of magic.
While a modified Transfiguration spell could accomplish the same feat, it would require hundreds of times more magical energy.
Alchemy wasn't about achieving great things with little effort, but rather about the returns that came with investing. For Damon, it was a form of learning by analogy.
"Crack!"
With a cracking sound, the already formed material shattered into pieces.
Damon let out a light breath, unconcerned.
He had lost count of how many times he had failed.
This slow, stagnant learning process was a refreshing change for him—he rarely felt this kind of sluggishness in Charms and Transfiguration, especially in the early days, when almost every repetition yielded new insights.
Damon opened the system, but still had no information about alchemy entered.
Perhaps he had to wait until his first success.
"Knock, knock."
A crisp knock on the door suddenly sounded.
Was it the Headmaster?
Before he turned the doorknob, Damon heard a suppressed cheer.
"Hmm?"
"Happy birthday!"
A large group of people stood outside, led by Harry and Ron.
Behind them were the Weasley twins, Ginny, Neville, and Hermione.
Ginny, holding flowers in her hands, looked at him with a blushing face - since the end of the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup, the witches in Hogwarts have lost their last reason to dislike Damon White.
"Birthday? I forgot about it."
Damon opened the door and welcomed everyone in. He used Transfiguration to create a sofa and a coffee table, and then told the chef in the kitchen to make some food.
"Is this your room? It really suits your style."
"What beautiful glass windows."
Harry and Ron looked at the decoration of the room generously - at their age, they were curious about everything, not to mention that this was their first time in Damon's room. Hermione and Ginny sat quietly on the sofa, occasionally turning their heads to check their surroundings.
"Not bad, but a little too simple," Hermione commented softly, her tone like a critical hostess. "I think it's good, but it lacks a personal touch,"
Ginny whispered, leaning over to her.
"Personal touch? Such a large bookcase, with all these glassware you'd only see in Snape's office, isn't that enough personal touch?"
Ron, sitting on the sofa next to her, interrupted Ginny. Judging by her sullen expression, she didn't want Ron to chime in at this moment—it would only exaggerate her criticism.
She had nothing negative to say about the Dueling Prince.
"Aren't we here for Damon's birthday? Are you missing the point?"
Neville interrupted, still clutching the nine-inch double-layer blue buttercream cake, his expression serious.
"Neville, it looks like you had a good summer?"
Damon leaned against Ron, resting his arm affectionately on his shoulder as he glanced at Neville to his left.
"Well - grandma took me to see my parents. She said I was very brave this time, so there was no need to use magic on me anymore - what do you think she meant?"
Harry and the others had strange expressions when they heard this. Damon smiled, "Maybe it's some kind of love magic that makes you more courageous or something."
"Is this cake for me?"
"Oh - yes, happy birthday, Damon."
"You're welcome. Come to think of it, Harry's birthday is in two days, right?"
"Yes - you still remember."
"Of course, buddy, how were you this summer vacation?"
Damon stretched out his finger, and the cake in Neville's arms flew up spontaneously, and the tied ribbon untied spontaneously. The cake fell in the center of the coffee table, and a clean oval plate was already in place.
"Not bad - I mean, very good! I really don't know what method you used to deal with them, but now the Dursleys are very polite to me, even a little intimate, you know? I have an aunt named Marge, she is quite annoying, always saying that I am a worthless, good-for-nothing, lazy beggar.
She also has a big dog, and when I was little, she often let that annoying dog chase me, which was so annoying."
Harry keenly noticed that the atmosphere was a little dull, and Hermione and Ginny were looking at him with sympathy. He quickly changed his words:
"Well, anyway, this time when I came to her house, she was stopped before she could say anything vicious. I saw Uncle Vernon whispered in her ear, and the expression on her face was as bright as an old chrysanthemum, and she was shamelessly hoping that I would introduce you to her."
I was a little uncomfortable with their enthusiasm, and left after staying for half a month. "
"Well - it seems that what I did was not redundant. "
Damon nodded, happy for Harry's situation, then picked up a cake knife and began to cut the cake. Harry stood up and helped him with a small plate.
The others followed suit and gathered around Damon.
They shared the cake and talked about their summer vacation. Someone started talking, "I always feel like something is missing when practicing the Disarming Charm recently." Everyone began to discuss magic.
In the end, it became Damon who spoke alone and the others listened.
Even Harry, who was the most talented in the Disarming Charm, listened attentively. But soon, he lost his mind uncontrollably.
He quietly looked at Damon who was talking freely, and then at Ron Neville, Hermione and Ginny. The sunlight outside the window poured in directly from the huge French windows, giving everyone a warm golden glow.
Harry sniffed and suddenly felt that this moment was extremely beautiful.
It would be even better if there was no fragment of Voldemort's soul lurking in him.
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(End of this chapter)