HP/LOTM: Hogwart's Mind Dragon

Dumbledore, followed by a stern-faced Professor McGonagall, led Aiden to Snape's office in the dungeons.

"You were nearly seen by Muggles!" Snape's roar could be heard through the thick oak door. "Do you have any idea what the consequences would be if our world were exposed?"

Aiden entered to see Snape towering over a miserable-looking Harry and Ron.

"I assure you," Snape snarled, "if you were Slytherin students, you would be on the train home tonight."

"I'm afraid they are not, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, pushing the door fully open. "Professor McGonagall is, after all, in charge of Gryffindor."

"Headmaster, these two children—" Snape began to complain.

"Professor," Aiden interrupted smoothly, "they violated school rules, certainly. But the car's performance was absolutely up to standard, and our world remains safe and sound, does it not?"

"Ravenclaw will lose ten points for interrupting a professor," Snape said instantly, his black eyes fixing on Aiden. Dumbledore and McGonagall had the grace to look embarrassed, but thankfully, the school year hadn't officially started yet.

"And what are you doing here, Mr. Prewett?" Snape continued, his voice a low hiss. "Do you find my Potions class too simple?"

"Ahem," Dumbledore interjected. "That car was Mr. Prewett's creation. It now seems to be... having a temper. We will require his assistance to bring it back." He spread his hands, indicating that only Aiden could handle the situation. Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, was looking at Aiden as if he were some kind of strange and dangerous creature.

"Hmph." Snape stopped speaking, turned, and swept out of the office.

"Professor, are you going to expel us?" Ron asked dejectedly.

"Not today, Mr. Weasley," she said, her lips pursed into a thin line. "But..." She proceeded to give them a severe lecture, culminating in a full term of detention.

"Professor," Harry asked anxiously before they left, "the term hadn't started yet when we drove the car. So, logically, Gryffindor shouldn't lose points because of us, right?"

Professor McGonagall gave him a stern look, but the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

"Alright, Mr. Prewett," Dumbledore said once they were gone. "It's our turn. Professor McGonagall will accompany you into the Forbidden Forest to deal with that car. As for me, I have an urgent matter at the Ministry." He winked at Aiden and turned to leave.

"Let's go, Mr. Prewett," Professor McGonagall said, her serious expression back in place. But the moment they left the castle, her professionalism wavered. "Mr. Prewett," she asked, her voice full of curiosity, "may I ask how you managed to imbue that car with its own thoughts?"

"Professor," Aiden replied, a little confused, "can't you already give your Transfigured creations independent thought?"

"Yes, but the consciousness achieved through Transfiguration is only temporary," she explained.

"Well, I'll explain it to you in detail when we catch the car," Aiden suggested.

The two of them entered the dark forest, their discussion continuing. Inside a small clearing, the Ford Anglia was in a frenzy, violently ramming itself into a large tree. The Algiz (ᛉ) rune carved on its body glowed faintly, its protective magic preventing the car from taking any damage.

When the car saw Aiden appear, it stopped its frantic dashing and grew quiet. Aiden raised his right hand, and his long staff materialized.

"A fine wand, Aiden," Professor McGonagall praised.

"Thank you, Professor."

"Immobulus."

With the release of the spell, the Ford Anglia froze in place.

"Professor, let me show you something." Aiden gently touched the car's body with his staff, and a shimmering image appeared on its surface: a memory of Arthur laughing and playing with his children.

"Those are... Mr. Weasley's memories."

"Yes, Professor. In my research with my uncle, we found that when a memory is extracted, the original is not lost. So we stored happy memories in the car's body and infused it with magic to nurture it. Eventually, the car developed its own consciousness."

"So our thoughts are an accumulation of memories..." Professor McGonagall fell into contemplation.

"Then Professor," Aiden asked, "how is it possible to give creations thought during Transfiguration?"

"Ah, of course. We naturally mobilize the power of the mind during the process of Transfiguration," she explained. "Transfiguration is closer to the mind than any other magic. The ability to change freely is itself a reflection of the human mind's power."

"Indeed," Aiden said. "Thank you for the lesson."

"Alright," Professor McGonagall said, reinforcing the spell binding the car. "Let's leave it here for now. Someone will come to collect it tomorrow." The two of them then left the Forbidden Forest.

The next day, Dumbledore took Aiden to a familiar old place—the Wizengamot. This was both the Ministry of Magic's council and its court. Unlike the last time Aiden had been there, the ancient masters were not invited. The council was composed of Ministry officials, and unfortunately for some, the incompetent Minister Fudge did not have the ability to control everyone.

Cornelius Fudge sat in the center seat, surrounded by the council. Arthur was already seated in the middle, giving Aiden an awkward smile. Molly glared at them both from the audience, while Lucius Malfoy sat nearby, a smug smirk on his face.

After Aiden took his seat, Fudge banged his gavel. "Alright," he began, "we are gathered here today for the hearing regarding the misuse of Muggle artifacts by Mr. Arthur Weasley and Mr. Aiden Prewett."

Dolores Umbridge, in a sickly sweet pink cardigan, handed Fudge a cup of water. Then, in a syrupy tone, she spoke. "Well then, let the hearing begin." She turned her toad-like face to Arthur. "First, Mr. Weasley, do you admit to misusing Muggle artifacts?" She shot a cloying smile toward Lucius.

"I do not," Arthur said calmly. "Have you forgotten that since the Hogwarts Express is also considered a Muggle artifact, we excluded magically modified Muggle vehicles from the list when the law was drafted? So, strictly speaking, my car is not a Muggle artifact."

"Oh? So that means you deliberately left a loophole in the legislation?" Umbridge pressed.

"How could that be? I was only responsible for submitting the draft. Wasn't it the Ministry itself that reviewed and approved it? I believe it even bears Minister Fudge's signature." Arthur had subtly dragged the Minister into the line of fire.

"Ahem, Assistant Minister Umbridge," Fudge said quickly, his eyes darting away. "Please do not mention irrelevant matters in court."

"Of course, Minister. Your will." Seeing that Arthur was a tougher nut to crack than she'd expected, Umbridge set her sights on Aiden. "Oh, look at this handsome little face. You must be the rising star of the wizarding world, Mr. Aiden Prewett." A hint of malice flashed in her eyes before being replaced by her sweet smile. But it was too late; a Sequence Six Hypnotist had already seen it.

"Mr. Prewett," she purred, "there are rumors that you were also involved in the modification of this car. May I ask if you violated the ban on underage spellcasting?"

"Of course not, madam," Aiden replied with a harmless expression, raising his wand. "If you don't believe me, you are welcome to check my wand. The maximum traceback period for the Prior Incantato is three months, is it not?"

"Are you certain? If you lie, you will be severely punished, and I will personally apply to have the Ministry seize the Prewett estate."

'Tsk, this woman,' Aiden thought, his patience wearing thin. He gave her a subtle, passing glance, and an invisible force brushed over her mind.

"First, we will torture him thoroughly with instruments," Umbridge suddenly announced to the stunned courtroom, her voice still sickeningly sweet. "Then, we will seize his property. The Prewett assets... oh, how tempting."

The chamber fell into a shocked silence as she exposed the darkness of her own heart. Aiden immediately put on a pitiful, terrified expression and, using his ability, amplified the sympathy of those around him.

"Uncle," he cried, his voice trembling as he turned to Arthur. "I'm so scared. She wants to torture me and confiscate my home! Will I have to beg on the streets?"

Arthur, catching on instantly, pulled the boy into a protective hug. "No, child, of course not," he said, his voice full of righteous indignation as he looked around at the council. "We will continue to raise you. We will protect you."

A murmur went through the room. "Oh, that poor boy." "There's no need to target an orphan like that." "The Weasleys are already struggling, and Malfoy still won't let them be?" In an instant, the tide of public opinion had turned. A reporter from The Daily Prophet furiously scribbled notes, capturing the entire scene. The council members began to shift uncomfortably in their seats.

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