The sudden influx of robed figures snapped Anduin back to the political reality of the Wizarding World. The leader, a man whose face was a testament to years of brutal, frontline combat—scarred, perpetually grim, and featuring one unsettling, rapidly swiveling artificial eye—leaned heavily on his cane.
"Sirius! What is the meaning of this magical flare-up? We felt the kinetic discharge instantly!" the man demanded, his voice a low, gravelly growl. The mechanical eye fixed on Anduin, then flicked wildly to the empty alley.
"Aurors. And they are exceptionally slow," Anduin thought sourly, realizing that the system was built to respond to results, not to prevent them.
Sirius, however, was already in buoyant, boisterous spirits. He threw an arm around Anduin's shoulder and guided him forward.
"Relax, Mad-Eye! It was two rats—Snape and Avery. They cornered me, those sneaky bastards. But luckily, this young man intervened just in time, or you'd have been fetching my corpse!" Sirius announced with theatrical flair, pointing at Anduin.
He quickly performed introductions. "Mad-Eye Moody, this is a Senior Auror and head of the Law Enforcement Department. And this, Moody, is Anduin Wilson. He's a first-year coming up, and apparently, a natural hand-to-hand combatant. He put Avery to sleep with a few well-placed Muggle moves!"
Moody's good eye and his magical eye both focused on Anduin. The scrutiny was intense, chilling.
"Underage wizard," Moody rasped, his voice full of suspicion, but his tone softened slightly as he registered the information. "What you did was foolhardy, son. Brave, yes, but needlessly reckless for a boy your age. You should not be out here, and you should certainly not be engaging dangerous combatants. Your family would be heartbroken."
"Mr. Moody, I sincerely regret putting myself in a position of risk. It won't happen again," Anduin apologized, adopting the sincere, respectful demeanor of a repentant youth. Arguing with this terrifying man is counterproductive. Besides, he looks like a Chinese mythological deity of retribution, he reflected.
"Hmph. I'll overlook the illegal magic use for the time being. Sirius will fill me in on the details," Moody decided, his magical eye whirling for a final scan. "Frank, take the boy back to his home." He gestured to one of the younger Aurors present, a man with a kind, open face.
"Mr. Moody, thank you, but I am an orphan. I currently reside at the Leaky Cauldron; I am already practically home," Anduin corrected him calmly.
Moody paused, giving him a hard, second look. "The Leaky Cauldron, is it? Very well. Frank, escort him regardless. Ensure he is secured for the night."
Anduin, eager to escape the scrutiny, offered a polite nod to Moody and followed Frank Longbottom out of the alley.
As they walked away, Sirius's voice carried through the quiet streets: "Anduin! Thank you again! I owe you a massive favor! I'll come see you soon!"
Anduin simply raised his hand and gave a silent wave to the overly enthusiastic Sirius Black, shaking his head at the man's volume.
Back in the secure solitude of his room, the adrenaline subsided, leaving behind a cold, analytical residue.
"Death Eaters are not theoretical targets; they are deadly combatants. My current magical intensity is insufficient," Anduin concluded, reviewing the duel. "Snape's counter-spell—that Shadowless Strike—was devastating. It cleaved the full-strength Barrier Charm with almost no effort. My defensive technique needs immediate and dramatic augmentation."
He resolved that his current period of training would be absolute isolation. No more visits to the pub, no more unnecessary errands. His goal was to strengthen the magical density and penetration resistance of the Barrier Charm—to forge it from a shield of kinetic force into a true magical bulwark.
He pulled out the copper talisman. The doe charm, once bright, was now a dull, dark copper disk, its protective charge entirely spent.
It was truly the amulet that saved me.
Anduin decided he must immediately write to Lily Potter, not only to express his deep gratitude but to understand the science behind the charm that had blocked Snape's dark curse.
Over the next few days, Anduin intensified his seclusion, focusing heavily on advanced theoretical texts while dedicating his physical stamina to pushing the limits of his Barrier density.
A few days later, Sirius Black, true to his word, visited Anduin. He regaled the boy with exaggerated details of his family feud and the workings of the Order of the Phoenix, confirming Anduin's suspicion that while the Order's membership was secret, its existence and general function were widely known among many wizards. Sirius was, in Anduin's estimation: a loyal, highly effective combatant, prone to grandstanding, yet fundamentally decent. Anduin found himself liking the man, despite his flaws.
Anduin also wrote to Lily, explaining the situation.
Lily's return letter was swift and fascinating. She was delighted that her "little experimental charm" had proved effective and thanked Anduin profusely for helping Sirius, whom she confirmed was one of their most trusted friends. She was amazed that the charm had blocked a spell powerful enough to cleave a double Barrier.
Anduin, his intellectual curiosity fully engaged, pressed her on the charm's mechanics.
Lily's second letter was generous and explanatory: the amulet was structured around two core charms. The first was a Stress Response Charm—a basic, crude form of automatic magic activation. The second was a specialized Protective Talisman that Lily had devised, drawing heavily on emotional energy to power the shield.
She revealed she had discovered the method in an obscure Hogwarts library book dealing with Ancient Magical Theory and the use of emotion in casting.
The charm had worked because the magic on the amulet—fueled by Lily's own intense maternal and protective emotions toward her friends and, surprisingly, the boy she had just met—was inherently pure and defensive, a kind of magic that often proved resistant to the dark, corrosive nature of Snape's curse.
Anduin was speechless. Magic fueled by emotion? A defensive spell powered by the user's protective sentiment, designed to be inherently resistant to Dark Arts? The thought was revolutionary. He immediately asked Lily for the name of the ancient book, planning to make it his first target once he arrived at Hogwarts.
Then came the unexpected gesture from Sirius Black. One afternoon, a small, heavily wrapped package arrived via owl post, containing a velvet pouch stuffed with glittering coins: Two hundred Galleons.
An enclosed, brief note from Sirius explained the windfall:
Mate, a few things I owe you. First, a thank you for keeping my arse out of the fire, though I could have handled both rats myself, naturally. Second, this is a small fee for services rendered, and a bonus for knocking out Avery. Don't spend it all at once! – Sirius.
Anduin stared at the money. Two hundred Galleons was a massive sum, potentially enough to fund the purchase of every esoteric text in Flourish and Blotts.
Show-off, Anduin thought, a mixture of annoyance and pragmatic calculation washing over him. Sirius was not just rich; he was the type to aggressively throw money at problems, viewing it as a simple transaction—a common trait among old-money wizards.
Anduin's initial impulse was to minimize contact with this ostentatious man. However, his long-term strategic mind intervened. Sirius Black was an exceptionally well-connected, wealthy, influential, and utterly loyal member of the Order of the Phoenix. He was a resource.
One must learn to profit from narcissism.
Anduin swallowed his distaste and began corresponding with Sirius regularly, adopting the tone of an admiring, grateful young protégé. He offered precise, measured compliments on Sirius's bravery and skill. In return, he endured long, boastful, and often poorly written replies detailing Sirius's latest misadventures and opinions.
The relationship was now cemented: a transactional friendship, where Anduin paid in flattery and endured the narcissism, and Sirius paid in valuable connections and, potentially, more Galleons. The cost of protection was high, but the potential return was even higher.
He filed the 200 Galleons away. The money would be used not for pleasure, but for the acquisition of forbidden and esoteric knowledge.