The cage that had detained Extimum did not have ordinary bars, but instead a block of solid ice in their place. It measured about fifteen centimeters tall by ten wide, and inside, a faint, motionless figure could be seen.
As he approached, the ice exhaled a constant icy breath that blurred the view of what it contained. Still, it was enough to recognize the shape: a fairy, barely eight centimeters tall, curled in a defensive posture, hands covering her face, and iridescent wings shimmering under the frost.
Li Xie: "Oh, I see this relic has caught your interest"—he commented with a measured smile—"It is mainly a decoration. My customers find it fascinating. An ancient fairy, found in some ruins—surely enchanted by a powerful wizard in her time. The ice still keeps its chill even today."
Extimum was certain: his premonition came from the figure in the ice. However, according to the merchant's words, the fairy had been frozen for a long time. He could not sense any breath nor the slightest sign of life from her.
Li Xie: "If you are interested in fairies… I have others on display. Or, if you seek something similar, I also have Cornish pixies." He offered, trying to catch his attention.
Extimum did not take his eyes off the figure trapped in the ice.
Extimum: "Tell me, would you be willing to sell her to me?"
Li Xie: "If that is what you wish…"—he shrugged—"It is only an ornament for my shop. Since you are a new customer, I will give it to you at a good price: just seventeen Galleons."
At hearing the exaggerated price, Extimum gave him a sharp look.
Extimum: "Didn't you say it was only a decoration?"
Li Xie: "Do not be angry, my lord"—he replied nervously under the pressure emanating from Extimum—"Even if it is a decoration, it is still the specimen of an ancient creature. Not many have the chance to see one."
Extimum: "Twelve Galleons. Will you sell it or not?" he replied curtly.
Li Xie: "Ah, a tough negotiator… very well, I will sell it to you. Would you like to look at something else?"
Extimum: "Yes. Do you have binding magical contracts?"
** cough cough **
The merchant started, coughing loudly. His eyes swept the shop as if fearing someone might hear them before replying in a low voice.
Li Xie: "Of course. They are indispensable for this business… but, my lord, you must know they are very rare, and their price…"
Extimum: "Just say it."
Li Xie: "Hehehe… it is a pleasure to deal with straightforward customers. Five Galleons."
Extimum: "I will pay you three, and it is a deal." He would not allow himself to be easily swindled by the merchant.
In the magical world there were many artifacts and spells for oaths or contracts, but in a place like that, the phrase "binding contracts" could only refer to one type: master–slave servitude contracts.
Ancient pieces, from a long-lost craft and very scarce. Even so, their rarity did not make them more valuable—they were banned in almost all magical communities, and their possession could result in anything from a prison sentence to the death penalty, depending on the country.
As for the reason, there was no need to explain.
Li Xie: "Excellent. That will be fifteen Galleons in total."
Extimum paid, reduced the block of ice with a Reducio, and stored it in his bag. Li Xie, in turn, took an enchanted parchment from his pocket and handed it to him. Shortly after, Extimum left the shop, finding Harry waiting outside with a thoughtful expression.
Extimum: "Let's go," he said, and they both headed toward the main street.
Harry: "Did you get what you were looking for?"
Extimum: "Yes, but I still have to see what I can do with her. I'll explain later"—he paused briefly and, changing the subject, added—"Harry, what you saw in there… is just another side of the magical world. Not everything is fantastic landscapes; I think you already know that."
Harry: "I understand… I just don't see how they can allow a place like that to exist."
Extimum: "Think of it this way: even if the light judges the darkness, it cannot deny that one lives off the other."
Harry fell silent, reflecting on his words. From his childhood, he knew not everything was light and rainbows, but he had not imagined that there was slavery in the magical world. Seeing the chained creatures had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Before long, they returned to the main streets. As they walked, Extimum spotted a sign that gave him an idea.
Extimum: "Come, I think this could improve your mood."
Extimum pulled Harry toward a building with a sign that had the image of a pair of glasses.
"Magi-optometrist" (Chinese).
Magic had existed since ancient times, and many of the difficulties wizards faced had already been studied. From that came new professions: some revered, others condemned to oblivion. Among the less appreciated was that of the magi-optometrist, specialists in everything related to vision—from glasses with specific uses to the creation of new eyes.
Although their field sounded promising, the profession's reputation had been tarnished by unscrupulous practices in the past. During their heyday, some magi-optometrists experimented on thousands of people, blinding nearly half the population of a magical city. Although today they survived by making glasses and accessories, mistrust persisted.
** Ting, ting **
A bell announced their entrance. The shop was small: a single space for customers, a wide counter full of glasses of all shapes and colors, and two closed doors leading to other rooms.
Harry let his gaze wander over the counter, lingering on the strangest models. There were glasses with lenses that sparkled, others with darkened glass, and several accompanied by neatly written labels: microscopic vision, magic observation, detection of invisible creatures, slow perception, vision through walls… There were so many types that he thought that if one could imagine a pair of glasses, it could be found there.
The shop assistant was a young Asian woman with long, straight black hair. Her fair skin contrasted with pearly white eyes; she wore a white coat similar to that of a Muggle doctor, and on her head, she had large glasses with multiple colored lenses that folded and unfolded.
When she saw them, she straightened from her lethargic posture and greeted them with enthusiasm.
??? (Chinese): "Welcome, welcome. What can I do for you, dear customers?"—her eyes landed on Harry—"Oh… and this? Glasses… Muggle ones."
Her expression changed instantly, from interest to slight distaste. Harry did not understand the words, but he did understand the gesture.
Extimum (Chinese): "Good afternoon. My friend here wants to fix his problem with his eyes."
??? (Chinese): "I see, does he wish to get new glasses or fix his vision problem?"
Extimum (Chinese): "His vision problem."
The woman blinked in surprise; she had asked out of courtesy and had not expected him to truly choose to fix his eyes, which made her pause for a moment and give him a more interested look.
??? (Chinese): "Boy, come here."
Extimum: "Go stand in front of her." He instructed Harry, who did not understand what the woman was saying.
Harry approached the woman, who lowered the large glasses from her head and put them on properly. She began moving, one by one, the multiple colored lenses, carefully evaluating and calculating Harry's vision problem from the information the readings the device provided.
Curious, he watched her maneuver the lenses as if solving a riddle before his eyes.
??? (Chinese): "Alright, I have seen his problem."
She reached into her pocket and took out several small bottles with labels, quickly examining them before putting them back one by one until she kept the one she wanted. Without asking, she approached Harry, uncapped the bottle, and—holding his head firmly—dropped two drops into each eye with a dropper. Then she closed it and put it away.
She stepped back two paces, drew her wand, and pointed it directly at the boy's eyes.—"Perfectam jingse."
The spell, a mix of Latin and Chinese—likely her own or a family invention—resonated with the particular cadence of ancient tongues, often used to give greater strength to magic.
Harry blinked several times; then, in disbelief, he removed his glasses.
Harry: "I can see… perfectly!" he exclaimed with excitement, although he had not minded wearing glasses much, having used them almost all his life, but anyone who wore them would prefer not to if given the choice.
??? (Chinese): "That will be sixteen Galleons." The woman smiled and told the price to Extimum, now noticing Harry did not understand her.
Harry: "I will pay." Although he could not understand much, he did catch it when she named the price.
He took out the coins, paid, and, in good spirits, left a tip. He kept his glasses as a memento, happy to discover that magic could cure his sight. It was strange that no one had ever mentioned it to him before.
Extimum watched in silence; he knew that despite their bad historical reputation, competent magi-optometrists rarely caused harm nowadays, and the presence of that shop on the main street was a sign of reputation. They left the shop with Harry still marveling, rediscovering the city without glass between his eyes and the world.
After leaving the shop, the bustle of the main street enveloped them again. Amid the murmur of voices and the tinkling of bells came strong aromas: spices, hot oil, boiling broth. They soon found a dark wooden restaurant with a red-tiled roof, from which lanterns hung under the eaves.
They went up to the second floor and settled by a window. Extimum leafed through the menu written in Chinese, with descriptions in English.
Extimum: "Now that I think about it, I just remembered something"—he said, pointing to a dish so that Harry would order it for him—"I'll be right back."
He left and crossed to a nearby potion shop. He was quick: he only needed a few, two of them intended for Harry. One, for bodily readjustment, so his body could recover from mistreatment and correct any deformities caused by malnutrition or previous damage. The other, for strengthening, to provide energy and enhance the effect of the first. A stronger Harry, Extimum thought, meant more peace for him.
When he returned, the food was already on the table. Harry was enjoying a bowl of noodles, while in front of Extimum steamed a "dragon's roar hotpot." The peculiarity of the dish was that, from time to time, a dragon of meat and soup would rise from the pot, seemingly roaring and devouring other pieces before submerging again.
Harry: "How can you eat that? Last time I burned my tongue. I don't think even the locals dare touch that hotpot."
In fact, he had been the one to discover the dish the day before, ordering it at the hotel without knowing what it was. After trying it, he had literally spat fire, to the amusement of the locals. It seemed to be a prank dish for tourists.
Extimum: "It's a very interesting sensation"—he replied calmly—"When you eat the dragon, you spit fire and the heat fades. Besides, since the dragon 'devours' other ingredients in the pot, the flavor concentrates and becomes more intense."
He set down the spoon and took two small bottles from his bag—"Here. First the blue one, then the white one. But before you drink the white one… bite something."
Harry eyed him suspiciously; that last instruction sounded dangerously ominous.
Harry: "What are they for?"
Extimum: "To turn you into a dragon and let you fly high in the sky. Now, drink them."
He tried to say it with sarcasm, but his impassive voice made Harry doubt whether he was serious. Often, Extimum's neutral tone made it impossible to guess his true intentions unless he clarified them.
Harry had already begun to notice that Extimum had a particular enjoyment in the misery of others, even if it was only harmless mischief. He rolled his eyes, but knew Extimum would not harm him. He finished his bite and drank the first potion. It tasted like strawberry. The second, however, tasted of old iron.
An amused glint crossed Extimum's face as he watched. First, Harry's skin took on a bluish tone; then, his body swelled and thinned in succession. His hair grew and stretched, accompanied by dry cracks: crack, crack. Harry's eyes widened, about to scream, but he remembered the warning.
He couldn't start screaming in the middle of a restaurant, and he had nothing on hand to bite down on to muffle the pain. He supposed Extimum had only been joking about that warning, but seeing the faint smile on his face, he decided to take revenge: he grabbed his hand and bit it.
Extimum: "Ah, damn it!"—he growled—"I told you to bite something, not me."
He hadn't managed to pierce Extimum's skin, but he had surprised him. After a few seconds that felt eternal, with unsettling sounds coming from his body, Harry collapsed back into his chair, sweating and panting.
** Pant, pant **
Harry panted several times and then spoke, ignoring the entertained and horrified looks of nearby diners who had heard the sound of bones breaking and flesh stretching and reforming.
Harry: "Damn… you tricked me. That was very painful, like all my bones were moving."
Extimum shrugged—"Well, you bit me, so we're even. Now, look at yourself."
He handed him a mirror. Harry looked at himself and barely recognized what he saw: his frail build had given way to a taller, stronger body; his face slightly changed, and without glasses, he had a different air, though the scar remained.
Harry: "Is that me?" he asked incredulously.
Extimum: "Yes. Now let's finish eating and get back to the hotel. I have something to check, and later we'll go somewhere else."
.-.
In a dark shop, filled with cages and chained creatures, Li Xie was sitting behind the counter."Ha, ha, ha… he, he, he… now I remember…"—he murmured with a crooked smile—"That was Harry Potter. Oh, what great news… I am sure many would pay a fortune for this information."
His laughter echoed in the gloom as he spoke to himself.
Extimum, for his part, had not foreseen that anyone would recognize Harry in China, and for that reason, he had not maintained Harry's transformation.
.-.
Back in his hotel room, Extimum sat on the bed and took the block of ice from his bag, returning it to its original size. The air grew colder instantly.
'How should I open it…?' He rubbed his chin, weighing options as the chill from the block brushed his skin. A few seconds later, an idea came to him. He extended his palm as if holding something invisible and focused his attention inward.
At first, nothing happened. Extimum kept his gaze fixed on his palm, concentrating on a deep point within himself. He knew that purple energy existed, but he had never used it; this was a tentative attempt, almost an experiment, with no certainty it would work.
The silence stretched on, broken only by his measured breathing. Almost a minute later, small flickers—like fleeting illusions or faint reflections of sunlight on water—began to appear above his hand.
The flickers intensified, swirling until they took form: an ethereal purple energy, flickering like a flame, dancing in the air above his outstretched palm.
Expectation shone in his eyes as he tried to control it and keep it there. To his surprise, it was easy and fluid, as if moving a part of his body that had always been there, yet he had never been aware of it.
He played with the energy for a moment, testing how it responded to his gestures and will. Only then did he turn his gaze to the block of ice, extend his hand, and let that purple light slide from his palm to completely surround it.
As he maintained the energy, he watched patiently for any change. At first, nothing was evident, until thin droplets began to slide down its surface, vanishing before they could touch the bedspread, leaving no trace.
Little by little, as if dissolving into nothingness, the ice melted—until finally the figure trapped inside fell softly onto the bed.
Now, without the distortion of the ice, he could see her clearly: a fairy no more than eight centimeters tall, with a youthful appearance and butterfly wings blending deep blue with shades of fiery red.
She wore a delicate set made of crystalline scales that glimmered in the light, a cyan tiara with a purple gem in the center, golden bracelets, and a translucent lavender cape that fell to her bare feet. Her orange-red hair cascaded down to her knees.
[Image here]
In the present age, fairies were not highly regarded: to many wizards they were nothing more than pretty, decorative creatures. They usually lived in forests, though some kept them as pets, mainly because their wings served as ingredients in certain potions.
They possessed their own magic, though not very powerful, and among Muggles they were perhaps one of the most well-regarded magical creatures. Despite their fragile appearance, they had a combative and narcissistic character; generally docile and somewhat intelligent, but unable to communicate in words, limited instead to buzzing sounds like the tinkling of bells.
All that described a common fairy. What Extimum had before him was a fairy from ancient times.
He examined her. Her skin was cold and her body stiff, with no perceptible signs of life, though his instinct told him she was not dead.
He took out several potions he had bought earlier: nutritional, strengthening, life-extension, vitality, and magical recovery. If she was still alive in some way, these potions should help her.
He placed a bowl on the bed and began the process. He carefully undressed the fairy; it felt strange, like undressing a doll—except the doll and her clothes were far too realistic. Then he submerged her in the first potion, ensuring her body absorbed the liquid before moving on to the next. He repeated the procedure with each one, spending about ten minutes on each potion and leaving the vitality potion for last.
He avoided combining them—even an apprentice knew mixing potions could cause adverse effects.
After submerging the fairy in each potion, he noticed her body's condition improving, but still no signs of vitality. With only the last potion remaining, one thought led to another, and he finally decided to drop a little of his own blood into the vitality potion in which the fairy was soaking.
Two drops of blood slid from his finger into the potion's white liquid. The surface rippled slightly and then changed. Gold and purple swirled, divided by a red line, before merging and returning to the original white with a subtle golden glow.
'I hope this works.'
Extimum removed the fairy from the bowl, dried her, and wrapped her in a handkerchief. After that, all he could do was wait—she didn't need to wake up, he just needed to feel a spark of life in her to know if all his effort had been worth it.
Letting time pass, he closed his eyes to meditate and reinforce his Occlumency.
…
Time flew, and two hours passed.
His eyes opened from meditation; he stretched his body and then fixed his attention on the fairy.
'She's breathing,' he thought, surprised and satisfied. Her breathing was weak but steady, as if she were merely sleeping.
He stared at her for a while, making sure his perception was real. Despite everything he had done and his wish for her to live, his rational mind had not held much expectation.
Now reality amazed him with the facts.
His fixed, thoughtful gaze only broke when he noticed the figure moving slightly.
'She really is alive.' When that thought finally settled in his mind, he didn't hesitate, reaching into his bag.
He took out the yellowed parchment he had bought from Li Xie. He wasn't naïve enough to awaken an ancient being without taking precautions. What if she was evil? Wouldn't it be ridiculous to be reviving his own killer? He couldn't take the risk.
His instinct had led him to find the fairy, but it hadn't told him why. It might be to destroy a threat before it became one.
He read the document carefully. The language it was written in bore exquisite calligraphy, but in an antiquated jargon, partially obsolete compared to the current tongue.
As he read, his eyebrows shifted slightly—this… was not exactly the contract he had expected.
It was still a master–slave contract, but it was more accurate to call it a master–pet contract. It seemed similar, but there were some differences: a bidirectional mental bond and a forced instinct or feeling of goodwill from the slave toward the master.
'Tch, I shouldn't have trusted that merchant.'
That second characteristic could be good or bad, depending on how one saw it. Though he himself disliked imposing emotions or feelings on others—he knew what it felt like and deeply disliked it.
Even if it was more suggestion than brainwashing.
'But it's what I have.'
Thinking no more of it, he cut the tip of his finger with his elongated nail and pressed the bleeding finger onto the area meant for the master. Then he moved the parchment toward the fairy, and it glowed softly before flying into her body, leaving a mark that shone and then disappeared.
This was exactly why such contracts were banned—they did not require the consent of the enslaved party. Luckily for the world, one less contract was one less that existed in it.
In fact, he was still surprised that Li Xie actually had one in his possession; at the time, he had only asked casually, expecting at most to buy a normal magical contract, but when he saw Li Xie's reaction and then the parchment he handed him, he had no choice but to proceed as if that had been his intention from the start.
He also suspected Li Xie had actually wanted to use it to get rid of a hot potato.
After completing the entire process, Extimum waited a bit longer, until the fairy finally showed signs of waking.
--Fairy POV--.
The fairy's eyelids fluttered before opening fully. The light felt strange to her, and her unfocused eyes blinked several times as if trying to adjust. That heavy lethargy that comes with prolonged rest still lingered in her gaze.
Little by little, her surroundings became clearer. Her confusion grew upon discovering she did not recognize the place: unfamiliar walls, an enormous bed beneath her body, a ceiling she had never seen before. She slowly sat up, letting her eyes scan the room in search of anything familiar.
Her wings, drooping and faded, barely moved. She tried to stand, but only managed to sway; her legs would not hold her. Though she was now awake, such a rapid recovery seemed to have a price: her trembling body and pale face gave her a fragile, sickly air. Even so, the tension in her posture showed she remained alert, aware she was in an unknown place.
Then, a cold draft brushed her skin. She shivered. Looking down… her wings trembled involuntarily when she noticed she was completely naked. Her breathing quickened; with hurried movements, she grabbed the handkerchief covering her and wrapped it around herself as best she could.
Only once she felt minimally protected did she lift her gaze—and that was when she saw him: a young man with a neutral expression, sitting a short distance away, watching her calmly.
The tinkling of her wings accompanied a sharp sound that escaped her lips. Her gaze, a mixture of apprehension and confusion, locked on him. She tried to say something, but the only thing that came from her throat was a rough, broken sound. Surprise filled her eyes; she brought a hand to her neck, swallowed with difficulty, and tried again.
??? (###): "H-h-hello, *cough* where am I?" Broken words, in an ancient dialect, came from her mouth.
--End POV--.
Extimum: 'She can speak.' A slight trace of surprise flickered in his eyes. Fairies of the present age could not utter a word, let alone form coherent sentences.
But it was not just that. She wasn't speaking English, nor Chinese, and it was not the mental connection from the contract either. No… he recognized the sound: it was an ancient language, the same he had once skimmed through in a grimoire out of mere curiosity.
That language had no name; in its time, it had been used by all magical peoples as a common tongue. Though each species kept its own languages, all mastered this form of universal communication. Now, only a few undeciphered records remained in the vaults of ministries, and perhaps only ancient families like his kept a detailed book as a historical keepsake.
For a few seconds, he merely watched her, assessing her fragility and measuring every gesture.
??? (ancient dialect): "What is this place? ugh Who are you? And… who am I?"
The words spilled out quickly, driven by uncertainty. The fairy seemed to suffer from memory loss due to the long time she had been frozen, and although she kept a defensive posture, it was more from habit than any real ability to act.
Extimum: 'Memory loss, huh… also within the possibilities.'
No longer ignoring her, Extimum decided to answer.
Extimum (ancient dialect): "We are in… well, the place where I am residing at the moment. As for you… I don't know." He answered in the same ancient dialect, somewhat mechanically but comprehensibly.
At first, he was tempted to say "China," but it was likely she wouldn't even know what or where that was, so there was no point in trying to explain—it would be as good as saying nothing.
The fairy lowered her gaze. Her mind was as blank as the answer she had received. She stayed silent, unsure what else to ask; her confusion was evident even in the way she clutched the handkerchief against her body.
Extimum (ancient dialect): "You can use these clothes." Noticing her discomfort, Extimum handed her back her clothes.
??? (ancient dialect): "I see… thank you."
The fairy took the clothes and changed right there. It seemed her mind was still not fully stable: at first she covered herself as if she felt shame, but when she decided to change, it was as if she completely forgot that detail and began dressing without the slightest inhibition.
After that, they exchanged a look and remained like that, in silence, for several minutes.
The fairy was trying to organize her thoughts and string together any memory of herself. Her current situation was a mystery, and on top of that, there was a strange bond she felt with the young man: when she focused, she could sense his presence and understand superficial emotions that were not her own.
Extimum, for his part, also noticed the connection. This bidirectional telepathic bond allowed him to feel the swirl of emotions the fairy experienced and to locate her presence simply by closing his eyes. Through the contract, he could also order her to do anything he wished. The sensation it gave him was different from the connection he had established with Hermione when claiming her or drinking her blood; this felt more intimate, as if it brought them closer in a familiar way that had been born out of nowhere. Though, in the end, it was still just that: a sensation, without any obligation.
They stayed like this until a knock on the door broke the silence.
Harry: "Extimum, are you done yet? You said we'd go somewhere else this afternoon."
Extimum did not answer immediately. He held the fairy's gaze a moment longer and finally extended his hand to her.
She looked at it for a moment before leaping lightly onto it, letting herself be lifted up to his head. Following the intent he conveyed, she nestled into his hair, becoming almost invisible to outside eyes.
At some point in their silent communication, they had reached a tacit familiarity: he knew she felt lost and vulnerable, so he decided to hide her until she felt more comfortable. Besides, her appearance—though similar to other fairies—was extraordinary enough to attract attention.
Putting on his shoes and smoothing his clothes, Extimum stood up and opened the door, finding Harry waiting for him.
Extimum: "Sorry for the delay. Let's go—I planned for us to visit my family's branch here in China."
Harry: "Oh, I didn't know you had family here."
Extimum: "Basically, there's a branch of my family in every major country with a magical community."
Harry: "So that's what Ron meant when he said your family's everywhere… I thought it was just a figure of speech."
Extimum: "Either way, it's not certain we'll get to meet them. I haven't told them of my presence here, but we can stop by to say hello."
Harry: "Wait… if you don't know them, how do you know where they live?"
Extimum: "There's a way—you'll see."
Extimum and Harry left the hotel and walked through the bustling streets until they arrived in front of an elegant building, of old design yet well maintained. On the sign, written in refined cursive, were the words: Inmemorial Vesperi.
That was the name of the commercial conglomerate under which all the Enoch family's companies were registered. This particular location served as a commercial center.
Inside, there were all sorts of businesses—most belonging to the family itself, though there were also shops from other companies renting space. To establish oneself there, it was necessary to maintain a high standard of quality and guarantee in the products, so as not to devalue the brand.
Extimum led Harry through the lobby, full of shops and customers. The place was busy, frequented mainly by upper-middle-class or wealthy families. He headed toward what appeared to be a reception office. During the walk, his appearance—unchanged since their arrival in China—began to shift until it returned to his original look, attracting a few curious glances.
The fairy, hidden in his hair, reacted with surprise and alarm at noticing the change.
At the counter stood a middle-aged man with Asian features, a shaved head, and brown eyes, dressed in a Buddhist kasaya. His eyes remained closed until he noticed Extimum's arrival.
???: "Good afternoon, esteemed customer. How may I help you?" he asked in impeccable English, perhaps recognizing Extimum's origin immediately.
Extimum: "Please, send a message to any family member you can contact. Tell them that a guest from the English branch has come to visit." Extimum went straight to the point, without giving too many details.
It was well known that the receptionists in customer service were, in fact, the building's administrators and kept direct contact with the local branch of the family.
???: "Blood will not flow without unsheathing your sword." The man nodded in understanding and then spoke a phrase.
Harry frowned, puzzled by the response, which seemed unrelated to what Extimum had said.
Extimum: "But my sheath will still rest upon your neck." Extimum, on the other hand, simply replied as if it were perfectly normal.
The man gave a slight nod, made a ritual gesture with his hands, and disappeared by Apparition.
Harry: "What was that?"
Extimum: "Procedures. You can't simply ask to see the family; anyone could try it. They use phrases you must complete to verify your identity."
Harry: "And if someone learns the answer?"
Extimum: "It's not always the same phrase. And this is only so someone will come. If you're not family… let's just say it wouldn't end well for you."
Harry: "So how does a normal person contact your family? Wouldn't communication be impossible then?"
Extimum: "Well, the usual: you make an appointment, you meet with a member, or, if you're an acquaintance, you send an owl."
At that moment, the man returned accompanied by a tall, elegant woman.
???: "My lady, this is the guest who requested your presence."
The woman, of imposing bearing, had Asian features mixed with North American. Her blonde hair fell in waves down her back, her gray eyes were piercing, and she wore a red qipao with a white scarf and heels. She held a pipe in her hand and radiated a cold arrogance.
???: "Let's see… those features, your hair color… your clothing. You must be the son of Callum and Ava. Come here."
The woman hugged him enthusiastically, leaving Extimum somewhat surprised and uncomfortable at the reaction.
???: "Ah, and you're just as cold as they are. I'm Rou Enoch… something like your distant aunt. No matter—we're family. Come, I'll take you to meet the others."
Her attitude shifted from initial coldness to affectionate energy the instant she recognized Extimum. The administrator, for his part, seemed so surprised that it was obvious he was not used to seeing her act this way.
Extimum: "Wait, I have a friend with me."
The woman's enthusiasm cooled slightly at his words.
Rou: "Would you trust him with your life?" Rou raised an eyebrow and asked very seriously.
The rules of the Enoch family were strict regarding bringing guests to the main house: there had to be absolute trust. If the answer was negative, the guest would be taken to one of the front houses to receive him, without revealing the true location.
Extimum thought for a moment. Although he had forgotten that detail, he was sure Harry was not a threat.
Extimum: "Yes."
Rou gave Harry a deeper look, then turned back to Extimum.
Rou: "Alright, you come too." The woman dropped her serious act and took Extimum's hand, offering her other hand to Harry.
Harry, surprised by Extimum's answer, took her hand, and they vanished with her.
.
They appeared in a small valley, right in the depression where two mountains met. The place formed a narrow, rocky pass at the entrance but gradually opened up as it extended inward.
The path was covered by the imposing shadow of the mountains and wrapped in a mist that slid along the ground, blurring the view in the distance. There were no visible structures nearby… until, in the middle of that somber landscape, the strangest sight emerged: a mansion floating atop what looked like solid clouds.
It wasn't enormous, but it was large enough to deserve the title of mansion. Its architecture recalled Extimum's residence, though with a marked oriental touch in its roofs, moldings, and finishes.
The access was as peculiar as the scenery: a path of floating stones, separated from each other and in constant motion. However, no matter how much the rocks shifted, there always seemed to be a safe route to the entrance.
Harry: "Wow… it's beautiful."
Rou: "Of course. This is the main house of the Enoch family in China. Though the truly impressive part is the interior."
Extimum was about to say something when he felt a slight tug in his hair—the fairy, still hidden, seemed dizzy. It wasn't that she couldn't withstand Apparition, but her body wasn't accustomed to the jolt.
Rou: "Well, let's—oh, I see your friend isn't feeling well. Don't worry, I always carry a few elixirs for this." She said while taking a bottle from somewhere.
Harry: "Who?" he asked, puzzled.
Rou: "I mean Extimum's companion. Haven't you seen her?"
Harry followed her gaze until he noticed, among Extimum's hair, the tiny figure of the fairy.
Harry: "Since when do you have a companion? I thought you didn't."
He already knew from Hermione's comments and the occasional argument that Extimum had no pet or bound creature as a companion. He recalled, in fact, one occasion when Hermione complained that he didn't meet Hogwarts' requirements, only to be silenced when Extimum whispered something he couldn't catch… but judging by her expression, it didn't sound reassuring at all.
In the magical world, it was common for a wizard to obtain a companion by tradition, utility, or simple company. Although not mandatory, it carried important cultural weight: they symbolized the start of a wizard's path in magic, encouraged care for magical creatures, and in practice served as class assistants, messengers, or, in many cases, helped with specific spells.
Rou brought the bottle closer to the fairy, who returned to her usual size of eight centimeters. Cautiously, she took the bottle's mouth with both hands and drank a sip. She did so because Extimum, through the bond, conveyed that it was safe.
Extimum: "She's the one I went to find in that shop."
Harry: "Oh…"
Rou: "Alright, let's not delay any further. Let's go."