And so, I was about to set off on my journey at once, but there was a practical problem.
"Master, isn't that body a little too young for traveling?"
That's right. My body.
My body, which had been de-aged to look around seven years old, presented a considerable obstacle to my travel plans.
I mean, realistically, what seven-year-old child travels alone?
What's more, according to Deek, the modern era has a much higher level of child protection awareness than the past.
In other words, if a seven-year-old kid was seen wandering the streets, they'd be reported as a runaway immediately.
The world has gotten so much better. Latte-neun, nobody cared if a kid was on the street or not.
[T/N: Latte-neun (라떼는): A popular Korean slang phrase. It's a humorous pun on "na ttaeneun..." (나 때는...), which means "Back in my day...". The pronunciation of "latte" is similar to "na ttae," and the phrase is used to poke fun at an older generation's tendency to reminisce.]
Anyway, for that reason, I had to find a way to solve this.
A simple solution would be to use an illusion or Transfiguration to change into my adult form, but ironically, the problem was that I didn't know myself all that well.
That might be hard to understand, but who really stares at themselves that intently?
To transform into another person, especially when the subject of the transformation is yourself, is an extremely high-level spell. It's the kind of magic that makes Apparition look like child's play.
Of course, the difficulty itself wasn't a major issue for me, but the problem was that I had never observed 'the adult Aisen Knightly' from an objective point of view.
I mean, who in their right mind would ever think they'd need to 'transform into themselves'?
And for situations like this, there was a very time-honored method. Polyjuice Potion.
Here's a question. Is it possible for me to polymorph into 'me'?
It's a rather interesting question for a wizard. If I were to make a Polyjuice Potion using a hair sample from before I was de-aged and drank it, would I return to my adult form?
Naturally, others had had this question before me. The most representative experiment to solve this query was to use one's own childhood hair to transform one's adult self.
Unfortunately, this method had a major flaw: a hair sample that had been left for too long would lose its efficacy and could not be made into a Polyjuice Potion.
But my case was different. Feeling a wizard's instinctual curiosity, I had already taken a few strands of my adult hair before leaving the cave.
Considering my clothes hadn't deteriorated during the time leap, it's likely that the items I was wearing didn't endure ninety years of time but rather jumped through it with me.
Therefore, the few strands of my adult hair that were stuck to the inside of my robe were fresh samples, collected less than two days ago.
After brewing the potion, I couldn't help but be amazed by the highly anticipated results.
Though I had used up some rare ingredients like powdered Horn of Bicorn, the result was well worth it.
Looking in the mirror at my familiar face, I nodded with a smile.
"Well, look at that. It works."
The Polyjuice experiment was a success. Although I only had a few strands of hair from the past, meaning I could make less than five doses of the potion, that wasn't a problem, as my goal was simply to observe my adult form objectively.
And this would be more than enough for any potential emergencies.
Deek, who had been watching me, spoke with delight.
"Oh, Master! While your younger form is also fine, you look most dignified in that form!"
Kee-rook!
Ardeura, beside him, cried out as if in agreement.
Ardeura had seen my transformation and was now perched on my broadened shoulder, preening her feathers.
In the past, I had earned the title of Potion Master by brewing Thunderbrew Potions and scattering them all over the place.
As if to prove that title was no empty boast, the Polyjuice Potion I created was lasting for a remarkably long time.
It had a duration of at least 1.5 times that of an ordinary Polyjuice Potion.
But even so, it still wouldn't last for two hours.
I observed and contemplated my familiar face and body for a long time. Then, when I had etched enough detail of my own appearance into my mind.
"Revelio."
Using the spell that reveals one's true form, I returned to my original appearance, and this time, I used Transfiguration to change back.
"How is it, Deek?"
"It's perfect, Master!"
Reflected in the mirror was a perfect re-creation of my 25-year-old self.
"Alright, this should be more than enough to set off on an adventure right away!"
It had only been a few days since I had been in a child's body, but I must have already grown accustomed to the height, as I promptly tripped and fell while walking in my adult form. But this was not a major issue.
"Master, you've scraped your leg."
...Perhaps I'll need a little time to adjust.
Ninety years, nearly a century, was a long time.
The wizarding world hadn't changed much. Even after ninety years, they still wrote with quills, communicated by letter, and wore robes.
Stagnation is regression, they say, and yet the wizarding society of ninety years later was far too conservative.
And the number of things that were forbidden... my head spun just reading through the regulations, which were incomparably stricter than they had been ninety years ago. Disgusted, we decided to take a tour of the Muggle world.
What's the point of having more rules? I didn't follow them back when there were fewer rules anyway. Pfft.
Using a combination of disguise and illusion magic, I took on my adult form, Ardeura took the form of a pet parrot, and Deek transformed into an old butler.
"Wow, my goodness."
"Oh, Master. Deek cannot believe it. Is this truly possible without the power of magic?"
Keeee-ek!
Unlike the stagnant wizarding world, the Muggle world had undergone a dazzling and brilliant evolution.
They had conquered the sky. It couldn't compare to Apparition, but the thing they called an airplane flew incomparably faster than a broom.
They had conquered the night. The night was no longer a thing for Muggles to fear.
They had brought the twinkling stars from the heavens down to the ground, painting their own galaxy of light on the earth.
Even for me, a Muggle-born, the world of ninety years in the future was utterly unfamiliar. How must it look to my friends, who had spent their entire lives in the wizarding world?
The view of the city at night from the top of Big Ben's spire was beyond imagination. A city without night; the term 'city that never sleeps' came to mind instantly.
Of course, with the help of magic, this was a scene that could be replicated with ease. No, it would be even easier to create.
Just look at the construction site next to us. Materials that required a 'tower crane' to be moved could be lifted with a single Levitation Charm by a wizard.
And yet, the wizards did not do so. Because they possessed the superior tool of magic, they felt no need to.
On the other hand, these Muggles, even without magic, had a tremendous desire for improvement. And the spectacle they had ultimately created on this earth was in no way inferior to that of the magical world.
"As I thought, the magical world needs progress."
And for that to happen, all these rules and regulations are just empty formalities.
I nodded, having reached a conclusion that would have horrified anyone who heard it.
Deek and Ardeura, sitting next to me, also nodded in agreement. The dazzling progress of the Muggle world seemed to have made a great impression on their eyes as well.
"Deek is truly amazed. They can perform feats that are like magic, even without magic."
"You're right about that. I'll need to look into the advanced knowledge of the Muggle world soon."
Come to think of it, I vaguely remember seeing that they had created some incredibly powerful bomb-like weapon. Perhaps there was something I could learn from it to improve my own magic.
Just then, someone from below shone a light up at us and shouted.
"Who's up there! This is a restricted area!"
Ah, dear. It seemed the Muggle guard for Big Ben had arrived. I casually drew my wand, cast Obliviate to adjust the guard's memory, and said.
"Well then, you two, shall we head somewhere else?"
There's still so much to see, after all.
That I ended up passing by Number 4, Privet Drive can only be described as a series of incredible coincidences.
It had been four months since we began to enjoy Muggle culture. As we observed the civilization they had built solely through the power of mechanical engineering, without any magic, we couldn't help but become fascinated by cars.
So fascinated, in fact, that we exchanged some Galleons at Gringotts for Muggle money and bought a stylish Muggle car.
Our reasoning was that using a car was more romantic than Apparition or a broom, and that when exploring the Muggle world, one should follow Muggle customs.
And then, by chance, we came to spectate a certain sport involving cars.
F1 racing, where cars, powered only by an engine, accelerated faster than a broom, and the fastest of those cars competed.
We had gone to watch the race without much thought, but we couldn't help but be completely captivated by it.
In a way, it was similar to the wizards' Quidditch, being a sport that utilized extreme speed.
And among the racing teams, there was one that was recently on the rise: McLaren.
I heard they had suddenly become prominent after changing their engine, but I didn't know the details.
In any case, a British racing team was doing well, and they had just established a company, so the motion to go for a tour was passed in an instant.
We hadn't made an appointment with the company, but since when have we ever cared about such things? A Disillusionment Charm would let us see everything anyway.
And so, on our way to Surrey, where the McLaren company was located, we managed to get spectacularly lost.
Deek was the one driving. The reasoning was that since he was a house-elf skilled in all sorts of tasks, he would be a decent driver as well.
And indeed, with just two days of practice, Deek's driving skills were excellent. But there was a problem.
He was absolutely terrible at reading traffic signs.
"I'm sorry, Master! Deek is stupid and got us lost! Deek must die!"
"Ah, it's alright, Deek. Let's just take this opportunity to see how Muggles live these days."
Kee-rook.
And so, by complete chance, or perhaps by fate, we ended up passing through Privet Drive, a quiet suburban town located in Surrey.
And there, I felt something very familiar.
"Wait, Deek. Stop the car."
"What is it, Master?"
What is this? Why am I seeing this here? Did I see so many amazing things in the Muggle world that my ancient magic sensors have gone haywire?
It was a fair question, because my eyes were seeing something that was invisible to others. A silver thread of light that not only Muggles, but even ordinary wizards, would be unable to perceive.
"Deek, Ardeura. Wait here for a bit."
"Master?"
Just like that time long ago when I first sensed the presence of ancient magic, I walked alone, following the silver thread of light.
The curiosity for the unknown, which I hadn't felt in a long time, made my heart pound.
And when I arrived at the house where the traces of ancient magic were strongest, I read the nameplate on the front door.
[Vernon Dursley]
Hmm, was there a wizarding family with the name Dursley? It was a name I'd never heard before, but like many who awaken to ancient magic, the possibility of him being a Muggle-born could not be ruled out.
Though I was a Muggle-born myself, having become so accustomed to the wizarding world, I often broke Muggle etiquette.
So this time, I politely suppressed the urge to cast Alohomora, and, following the Muggle etiquette I had become familiar with over the last few months, I rang the doorbell.
Surprisingly, Muggles tended to be startled and disliked having their doors picked by Alohomora. (To be fair, so do wizards.)
Ding-dong.
"Is anyone home?"
At my polite request for a visit, a middle-aged man with a heavy build opened the door and came out.
"Hmph. Who are you?"
"Are you, by any chance, Mr. Vernon Dursley?"
"My name is Vernon Dursley, yes, but what business do you have ringing a man's doorbell in the middle of the day?"
Hmm, this was surprising. I couldn't feel any magical power from the man who introduced himself as Vernon Dursley.
No, not just a lack of magical power. With a face full of greed, he looked to have absolutely no connection to ancient magic whatsoever.
In that case, was the source of these traces the 'house' itself?
"It's just that I like the location of this house. Would it be possible to have a quick look inside?"
"Not a chance!"
Vernon Dursley tried to slam the door shut with an irritated expression. Hmm, so he really doesn't know anything.
My question was answered in an instant when I saw a small boy, who looked to be about my physical age, peeking out from behind the closing door.
The boy, who had black hair and mysterious green eyes, also had a very distinctive lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.
And most importantly, though it was only visible to my eyes, the boy's body was enveloped in a mystical silver aura.
Aha. Found you.