The garden of Gaunt Manor was bathed in golden light filtering through the treetops. Aurelian lay on the grass, his hands behind his head, gazing up at the sky. The blue sky stretched out clear, with just a few white clouds that seemed to float aimlessly, forming changing shapes wherever you looked.
It was, without a doubt, a perfect afternoon.
The gentle breeze rustled the leaves and brought with it a serene silence. Aurelian closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the calm and tranquility of the moment.
A flapping of wings interrupted the silence. A silver-gray owl descended elegantly, landing near him. In its beak it carried a sealed envelope with an emblem that Aurelian recognized, the Longbottom house.
With a wave of his hand, Aurelian stood up and took the letter. The owl watched him for a moment before taking flight again, disappearing into the blue sky.
The familiar Longbottom seal glistened in the afternoon light. Intrigued, Aurelian ran his fingers over it.
"Neville... Why are you writing to me now?" he whispered, a slight smile playing on his lips, before carefully breaking the seal.
Aurelian broke the seal and carefully unfolded the parchment. The handwriting was elegant, with defined and somewhat severe strokes, reflecting the personality of the writer.
He read silently:
"Lord Gaunt,
I am writing to you because Neville has mentioned your words regarding the wand he carries. Let me be clear, that wand belonged to his father, and in our family that is a tradition. We do not need a new one, nor will we ask for one. We Longbottoms are faithful to our customs."
Aurelian blinked, momentarily confused, before continuing.
"If you insist on worrying so much about my grandson, perhaps you would like to accompany us one of these days to St. Mungo's Hospital, where you can see with your own eyes what it means to be proud of being a Longbottom. Perhaps then you will better understand where we come from and why we are raised with such discipline."
He closed the letter slowly, letting out a soft sigh.
He remembered that before the end of the school year, during one of his training sessions with Neville, he had casually told him that it would be best for him to get his own wand, that no wizard could reach his true potential using someone else's magical channel. He had spoken sincerely, without remembering the background of the wand the boy carried.
He understood the response. Augusta had not written it to attack him, but with the pride and conviction of someone who had supported her family in dark times.
Aurelian placed the letter on a small table in the garden, looking up at the clear sky.
"Neville's parents..." he whispered.
He had heard about it, he knew what had happened to them at the hands of his father's followers, but he had never seen them. Augusta's invitation was undoubtedly more than interesting.
A serious expression crossed his eyes.
"Why do I have to take responsibility for my father's mistakes?" The letter had left a strange weight on his chest.
Aurelian unfolded the letter again on the table and reread it calmly. Every word Augusta wrote expressed her feelings.
"St. Mungo's Hospital," he murmured, his eyes fixed on the signature of the elderly Lady Longbottom.
It was clear that she did not trust him. But if she was inviting him to see Neville's parents, it meant that she had accepted him, at least partially, as someone who had influenced her grandson's life.
The boy leaned back in the garden chair, bringing a hand to his chin.
"Heal them?"
The idea hit him hard. He had never seriously considered it before. He knew that Alice and Frank Longbottom had been tortured into madness by Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodolphus, and Barty Crouch Jr. That dark magic, used over a long period of time, had left scars much deeper than those visible to the naked eye.
But now, with the knowledge he was accumulating, with his own power becoming increasingly refined, a real possibility was opening up before him. He couldn't be sure of anything... but he couldn't rule it out entirely either.
"Perhaps... only after seeing them will I know if I can cure them," he said to himself, his gaze fixed on the sky.
A slight smile crossed his face. It wasn't simple curiosity that moved him. Neville had surprised him time and again with his determination and discipline; to tell the truth, he had grown fond of him. Healing his parents would give Neville even more reason to keep growing.
He rose decisively from his seat, folded the letter, and tucked it into the inside pocket of his robe.
"Very well, Lady Longbottom... I accept your invitation."
The wind blew gently, rustling the leaves of the trees in the garden. Aurelian wondered if his power could also be used to repair what darkness had destroyed.
Back in his room, Aurelian placed Augusta's letter on his desk and sank into his chair. His eyes fixed on the ceiling as his mind began to make connections, as it always did when faced with a complex problem.
The Cruciatus.
The curse of pain. A spell that not only causes terrible physical suffering, but also bombards the nervous system with abnormal magical impulses. It is not a common wound, but a prolonged trauma that interferes with the magical channels and damages the delicate balance between body, mind, and magic.
I review some of the medical reports I had read and seen in my past life. Cases of post-traumatic stress disorder, trauma-induced psychosis, and neurological injuries associated with extreme pain. The Cruciatus Curse was, in essence, all of that amplified and sustained by an external source: magic.
"What Bellatrix and the others did to them was... burn their minds from the outside in," he muttered under his breath, frowning.
He leaned forward, pulling out a blank parchment to begin writing.
Hypothesis. Constant pain destroys mental connections. It causes synaptic degeneration, as in Alzheimer's disease or in the most severe cases of chronic epilepsy.
The problem wasn't just physical. The Cruciatus Curse forced the victim's internal magic to resonate with the pain until it was conditioned to respond with spasms, fear, and loss of control. Alice and Frank Longbottom were damaged; their minds had been reprogrammed to associate any strong stimulus in their environment with unbearable suffering and pain.
Aurelian clutched his pen, lost in thought.
"The real question is how to reverse it?"
He could try Legilimency, exploring their minds in search of the damaged memories, cleaning and rebuilding their mental structures. But that was risky; entering a broken mind could end up breaking it even more than it already was.
Another option would be to work on the body. Magical healing combined with neuromagic control. If he could realign their magical channels and damaged nerves, he could create a stable foundation for the mind to rebuild itself. More specifically, he could regenerate neural tissue, inducing neuroplasticity in their brains.
He even remembered some medical experiments from his previous world, electrical therapies to reactivate damaged brain connections, drugs that induced neuronal growth. All of that could find a magical parallel if he used the healing arts together with his own ability as a Invoker.
He rested his elbow on the table and brought his hand to his forehead.
"Theoretically... it's possible." He smiled slightly. "Difficult, but not impossible."
He knew that restoring their minds was not enough. The memories of pain were still there, burned into Alice and Frank's psyches. He would need to use Occlumency in reverse, not to protect his own mind, but to heal the cracks in theirs, cushioning the pain until they could bear it again on their own.
He leaned back in his chair, letting the quill roll across the parchment.
"It could be the first time I combine the best of my two lives, science and magic."
The thought made him shudder a little. If he succeeded, not only would he return Neville to his parents, but he would prove that magic could go beyond what even the healers at St. Mungo's believed possible.
With his eyes fixed on the ceiling, he allowed himself one last sigh.
"Only after seeing them will I know if there is still anything left to save."
The next day, the morning fog was just beginning to lift when Aurelian appeared at the agreed-upon spot, a discreet corner of Hogsmeade. He wore a dark, unadorned robe, practical and comfortable, as befitted the occasion.
Neville Longbottom and his grandmother, Augusta, were waiting for him there.
Neville greeted him with a mixture of shyness and respect. His hands seemed restless, but his eyes sparkled when he saw him. Augusta, on the other hand, maintained her haughty bearing, her feathered hat on her head and her back straight as if she were carrying the weight of her entire family's tradition on her shoulders.
"Lord Gaunt," said the old woman with a slight nod of her head, her voice firm and sharp, though without hostility. "I am glad to see that you have taken my invitation seriously."
Aurelian bowed his head calmly, his tone respectful.
"It will be an honor to accompany you."
Neville stepped forward, pressing his lips together before speaking.
"Thank you for coming... really," he murmured sincerely, dispelling any formality.
Aurelian smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, conveying calm.
"Let's go together, Neville."
Augusta nodded, waved her wand, and prepared the Portkey that would take them directly to London. The old golden lion figure glowed in the air between them.
"Get ready," warned the old woman. "The journey will be immediate."
Aurelian closed his fingers around the Portkey alongside Neville and Augusta. With a sharp tug, the world around them dissolved into a whirlwind of color and wind.
When the sensation disappeared, they were standing in front of an imposing building with tall windows and antique-looking doors. Above the entrance, discreetly enchanted for magical eyes, the words glowed.
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Aurelian's heart leapt. Soon, he would see with his own eyes the aftermath of his father's wishes on Neville's.
The fate of that family was about to intersect with his own.
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