After early morning, Linus Alvin Bones packed up his Alchemy textbooks and experimental equipment.
Having spent almost the entire summer immersed in research, he had fallen behind on course preparations.
With his textbook written and needing only to be printed, he handed sample copies to Vice Headmistress McGonagall first.
McGonagall handed over a list.
“These are the students who have registered for Alchemy.” Linus took it and glanced over it casually.
His expression couldn’t help but shift—the number of registered students far exceeded his expectations.
In particular, Muggle-born students made up nearly half the list.
It seemed yesterday’s lecture on “Magic and Technology” had indeed made waves in their hearts.
“Looks like I’ll need to print a few more textbooks, and double the materials.” He muttered to himself.
McGonagall glanced sideways at him.
“The school will provide the materials.
Please feel free to use them, but don’t even think about wasting anything.” Linus smiled and nodded.
She had always been sharp, exercising strict control over the books.
If she were given sole charge, Hogwarts’ finances would likely have been in perfect order long ago.
After leaving the office, Linus strolled slowly down the corridor.
The long-absent atmosphere of the campus left him slightly dazed.
Though several years had passed, Hogwarts remained unchanged—ancient stone walls, warm candlelight, and a faint aroma of beeswax in the air.
After taking a short tour, he turned toward the grounds and spotted his long-time friend, Rubeus Hagrid.
Back when they first met, it had merely been to borrow materials from the Forbidden Forest.
But Hagrid’s simple honesty and kindness quickly caused Linus to lower his guard, and the two rapidly grew close.
Linus had once developed a unique spell for him—”Voice of Nature.” It allowed the caster to communicate directly with magical creatures, free from language barriers.
For Hagrid, whose greatest joy was taming beasts, that was more precious than a bag of Galleons.
Years had passed, but their friendship remained unchanged.
The two talked for most of the day until night fell.
Linus met up with Snape again, and in the familiar shadows of the Forbidden Forest, they used Apparition and vanished without a trace.
…
The two appeared inside a hidden underground research facility.
Located in the Muggle world, its exterior was disguised as an abandoned factory.
Yet the interior was immaculately clean.
Magic circuits were embedded in the walls, and behind glass windows stood rows of test pods.
Scientists from around the world were bustling about.
Some wore white lab coats while others wore magical robes.
Cultures and languages intermingled, but whenever anyone saw Linus appear, they consciously paused and offered him a slight nod of respect.
This was the research team he had personally assembled.
Its members were top minds—biologists, genetic engineers, and magic scholars.
Initially, they had been rather arrogant toward this young “investor,” until they discovered that his understanding of anatomy and molecular structure far surpassed ordinary bounds.
In Linus’s eyes, science and magic were neither superior nor inferior to one another; they were simply two paths leading toward truth.
Sometimes science could unveil the mysteries of magic, and sometimes magic could demonstrate the miracles of science.
The inspiration for many spells originated from those cold, hard formulas.
Snape followed him into the main control area.
In the very center, inside three massive glass incubation tanks, three human bodies floated quietly in green nutrient solution.
Two of them were a man and a woman whose faces were so familiar it was heart-stopping— They were Linus’s parents: Edgar Bones and Joanna Bones.
The third body was a clone of Lily Potter.
Linus gazed at them, his expression calm as stone.
These three bodies were not corpses, but soul vessels constructed through alchemical means using resequenced original genes.
A white-haired elderly scientist stepped forward and reported respectfully, “Mr.
Bones, the test subjects are still unable to survive for more than a year.
Currently, we suspect the issue lies in the genetic collapse stage.” “Genetic collapse?” Linus frowned.
“Yes.
Every sample experiences a cellular self-destruction reaction within twelve months.” Linus sank into thought, his fingertips tapping rhythmically against the glass.
Inside the fluid, the clone of Lily closed her eyes peacefully, her face serene as if fast asleep.
“Have you found the cause?” Snape stepped closer, his voice low.
“Not yet,” the old scientist answered.
Linus did not speak further.
His gaze drifted between the three bodies, his expression gradually growing solemn.
These clones were not created merely for rebirth.
What he truly pursued was the possibility of soul reloading— allowing a soul to detach from the physical body, and then re-inhabit a perfectly replicated form.
“If genetic collapse is the result of matter rejecting the soul,” Linus murmured, “then perhaps we ought to try a different approach.” Snape looked at him sideways.
“What do you mean?” “The physical body should perhaps not be based on bloodlines, but centered around ‘frequency.’ Souls possess vibrations, and the magic frequency of a clone differs too drastically from the original body.
If we cannot match the frequency—even a perfect replica is nothing more than an empty shell.” His gaze turned cold, and his voice dropped low.
“We must find a way to align the frequency.
Whether through alchemy, runes, or dark magic.” The white-haired elder hesitated.
“Sir, if such experiments become known to the Ministry of Magic—” “The Ministry of Magic?” Linus let out a cold laugh.
“They don’t even understand the difference between potions and genetics.” The air abruptly grew frigid.
His words silenced all the researchers.
Snape suddenly spoke.
“One of these bodies…
belongs to her, doesn’t it?” Linus did not answer.
The two looked at each other in silence.
Silence possessed more power than any words.
The lights flickered in the nutrient solution, casting a glow over the side of the cloned Lily’s face— That face was gentle and quiet, yet devoid of even a trace of living warmth.
“Do you truly intend to bring her back to life?” Snape asked in a low voice.
“It is restoration,” Linus softly corrected him.
“She is not a reborn Lily, but a container for a soul.
I merely wish to test where the boundaries of the soul lie.” “And if you fail?” “Then I continue.” His calm tone sounded more firm than any vow.
A faint dripping sound echoed in the air.
Heartbeats and mechanical sounds intertwined, like a cold musical movement composed by science and magic together.