allendalepharm Chapter 86, Section 85: Let me watch the light disappear from your eyes.
Chapter 86, Section 85: Let me watch the light disappear from your eyes.
Perhaps Lady Hodge was urging them too frequently, because Michael and William saw Ian trying to run towards the castle.
They each supported Ian under one armpit and carried him back to the lawn.
"Are you afraid of heights?"
Michael suspects Ian is trying to skip class.
"Nonsense, Ian must just want to do something big that we don't know about, but it must be something really amazing!" William continued his childish but effective flattery of Ian from beginning to end.
"I just want to salvage my reputation and innocence while there's still time!" Ian watched Snape disappear, only able to regret his slow reaction.
but.
He secretly resolved that if Snape dared to use his hair to brew Polyjuice Potion, or to spy on him in the women's restroom or Professor McGonagall's bedroom in a way that would damage his reputation, he would definitely brew a pot of Polyjuice Potion in return.
He transformed into Snape and performed Elysium in the Great Hall.
"Snape, born evil!"
Ian was still somewhat indignant when he was helped back into the crowd. He touched the top of his head, and as someone from England, he was naturally most sensitive about the hair loss in the center of his head.
Admittedly, Ian is still a child, but his hair isn't very thick. If he doesn't plan ahead when he's young, who knows what will happen when he grows up?
"You'll see my performance later. I learned how to ride a broom long before I started school. My dad took me all the way from Austria back to London in the sky."
"That time we also encountered a Muggle flat-top flying iron, which threw a ball at us and invited us to play a game, but my dad instantly apparated me back home."
"I bet if my dad hadn't been in a hurry to go to the toilet, I could have knocked down the Muggle's Great Flying Iron!" The Slytherin wizard was still bragging about ordering a Nimbus 2000.
Ian greatly admired this person's courage in attempting a one-for-one trade, and he admired even more that many young wizards listened with great interest, completely unaware that there were any strange knowledge points mixed in.
William was also bragging to Michael and his friends, but he was obviously not as outrageous as the little wizard from Slytherin. He was just showing off that he had printed underwear from the Mottora macaw team.
The complete set, it moves, just like Dumbledore's—Ian subtly distanced himself from William, now worried that William would order a pair of "Ian" underwear after his vacation.
"call out!"
With a whistle from Mrs. Hooch, everyone immediately fell silent.
Rolanda Hodge is a middle-aged woman with neatly combed short hair, with a few strands slightly messy from magical practice or outdoor flying.
She looked very serious, only slightly less imposing than Professor McGonagall, but even so, she was still able to keep the first-year, timid wizards in check.
Except for Gryffindor.
"Learning to fly is a dangerous course. First, we must establish communication with the broom. Everyone must listen carefully. If anyone is distracted, I will ask them to leave my class."
Madam Foster first gave everyone a hard time, and seeing that everyone became serious and nervous,
Only then did she begin to explain with satisfaction the precautions for flying on a broomstick.
After all, it's just meat wrapped around wood.
There is no safety rope yet.
Flying on a broomstick is indeed a very dangerous sport. Ian doesn't understand why, since we're no longer in the Middle Ages, we can't invent a flying vehicle where we can calmly drink red tea in the sky.
Just because of Quidditch?
"I must become Doctor Strange at Hogwarts!" Ian looked at the simple broom he had been assigned, and his motivation to study alchemy in depth grew even stronger.
Ian was daydreaming a bit, but he wasn't caught.
"stand up!"
Mrs. Hodge was teaching everyone how to use language to awaken the magic within their bodies and resonate with their flying broomsticks, and many students were imitating her, chanting along.
For young wizards whose perception of magic is not yet clear, they can almost only rely on the instincts evoked by language to draw upon magic, and many of their brooms just spin around on the ground.
"stand up."
As expected, Ian succeeded on his first try. When it comes to a clear perception of magic, the more he interacted with other wizards, the clearer he understood just how acutely he could sense it.
That rhythm.
It is a field of vision that few people have access to.
"Ravenclaw, one point! Mr. Prince, well done." Mrs. Hooch glanced at Ian with some surprise, then gave him a thumbs-up in appreciation.
William, who was the second to call for a broom, only received an approving look. This was often the case for the second-place finisher, but William didn't seem to care at all.
"Look! Look! I'm only a tiny bit slower than Ian!"
He excitedly boasted to Michael.
"That's tough." Michael wrinkled his nose, hooked the broom with his foot, and pulled hard upwards, managing to get the broom, which was used for removing hair, into his hand.
There was a slight deviation, but the guidance of magic always had some effect, and there are always more solutions than problems. Michael became the third little wizard to hold a broom.
Ian nodded. Michael was indeed a clever young man. It was clear from the past few days of classes that although Michael liked to use shortcuts, he always managed to meet the professors' requirements. In this respect, William, who had always studied diligently, was clearly slightly inferior.
God knows how long William secretly practiced behind the scenes for this lesson.
"Concentrate!"
"You must be eager and work hard to get the broom into your hands!"
"My God! What are you doing?!"
Ian and his roommates waited for the other young wizards to familiarize themselves with the procedures; they didn't see the conspicuous bag that had taken off without permission.
But then they saw a little wizard trying to take a few bites of the flying broom.
Ok.
It was Michael's favorite little black girl. She was pouting and looked like a sugarcane. Mrs. Hooch caught her red-handed and gave her a severe scolding.
Michael's expression clearly showed that he was heartbroken.
"Rebecca was just hungry, what did she do wrong—"
That's what a simp is like.
Ian and William were both a little annoyed, but fortunately, biting a few brooms wasn't a big deal, and Mrs. Hodge quickly began the next step of the takeoff instruction.
"I will only demonstrate once, so remember it clearly and hold on tight to this." After demonstrating, Madam Hooch began to inspect and correct the young wizards' mistakes.
Ian was initially quite comfortable straddling the flying broomstick, but after Mrs. Hodge corrected his posture,
His expression then became somewhat less happy.
This game is a bit ridiculous... It's uncomfortable.
The cushion spell didn't seem to be very effective on these old brooms.
"Just a few feet is enough. Don't let me see you fly more than ten feet. I still want to maintain my record of no one getting hurt in my class."
Mrs. Hodge sounded very proud, but Ian knew that she could only be proud for one year, as next year Mrs. Hodge would definitely face a major challenge in her career.
"Swish swish~"
Learning to fly wasn't a difficult thing, not even as difficult as the suffocating experience Ian had been going through. Fortunately, he could secretly conjure up a small cushion for his broom.
Everyone was practicing according to Mrs. Hodge's instructions, and Ian was also enjoying the thrill of flying.
So carefree and comfortable... with an indescribable sense of familiarity.
"Fly over here as a raven!"
Lady Ravenclaw's request seemed to echo in his ears again. If he could learn to be an Animagus, Ian really wanted to become a free-roaming raven.
"The preparations alone have taken a long time, and this is a truly dangerous spell; if you're not careful..."
There is a possibility that an unexpected new species could be created.
There is expectation in my heart.
However, Ian did not intend to immediately begin learning Animagus transformation. He had already accumulated quite a few courses, and it wouldn't be too late to learn it after he had thoroughly studied alchemy.
"Flying Cloak—"
After landing on their brooms, most of the young wizards, except for a few who were afraid of heights, felt a bit unsatisfied. Ian, however, felt that the experience of flying on a broom was not very comfortable.
When the flight lesson ended.
He immediately shook off his two lazy roommates and headed back to the dorm to study. Having read most of the borrowed books, Ian had made good progress in his alchemy studies.
Thanks to the fragments of the gown given to him by Teacher Mara, as well as the works of many sages in the Hogwarts Library, Ian's alchemy skills broke through to level three last night.
This is already considered a very good level.
Although alchemy, wizard chess, flying brooms, and memory balls are integral to every aspect of wizards' lives,
Even everyday objects like candles and campfires bear the imprint of alchemy.
however.
As a discipline that touches upon material transformation, potion-making, ancient arts such as Neven, spellcasting, and transfiguration, it is almost impossible for even senior students to master and learn it.
So-called geniuses.
In reality, it's merely an entry ticket to this subject. As the most difficult subject to enter in the entire wizarding world, even among Hogwarts' upperclassmen, only a handful of geniuses take it as an elective. Some of them might be able to master the skill, but achieving significant accomplishments is still quite challenging.
It's merely enough to make a living with this skill after graduation; becoming a renowned alchemy master is almost impossible.
In addition to a meticulous and rigorous attitude, alchemy requires a comprehensive knowledge of various fields. Becoming a master also requires boundless imagination and creativity.
"Luckily, I'm not just a genius, I'm also a cheat code." In Ian's eyes, alchemy wasn't that difficult; it was simply a process of learning, mastering, and innovating.
Having seen it, learned it, and started using it, that was all. As Ian hurried back to the Ravenclaw lounge, he saw a Dementor standing guard on the eighth floor.
Many wizards avoided the eighth floor.
His face was filled with fear.
Most people in the wizarding world are like this; they grow up hearing about the horrors of Dementors. In the minds of young wizards, Dementors are truly comparable to the various ghost stories that many Muggle families used to scare their children when they were young.
The only difference is that Dementors truly exist, while those various ghost stories may just be ghost stories, fabricated by parents to scare children into obeying them.
Dementors are not living beings, but evil spirits. They have no facial features, but instead have a hole where a mouth should be. This hole can suck away a person's soul and happy memories.
Known as the "Kiss of the Dementor," this ability can send a person into a state of utter despair. It is so powerful that even many adult wizards avoid it like the plague, let alone novice wizards.
"What's going on? Why are Dementors at the school?"
Ian inquired with some upperclassmen and learned that someone from the Ministry of Magic had come to investigate Professor Ronnie Ehrlich's death, and the Dementors were assistants brought by that investigator.
"What kind of investigation can foolish Dementors help with? This is probably just the Ministry of Magic putting on a show of force. Cornelius Fudge's favorite thing to do is to instill fear in others!"
It seems that someone in this senior's family works at the Ministry of Magic, and she has some complaints about the leadership. Parents' opinions always seem to influence their children.
"Even though they're stupid, don't you think they look really cool? I thought the school was going to give out Dementors... Ugh, what a disappointment. I was thinking of getting one." Ian stood gazing at the Dementor on the eighth-floor corridor, and the dazed Dementor seemed to sense his gaze.
Their eyes met.
The other person was wearing a hood and floating in mid-air.
"Ah!"
Ian was influenced by the Dementors; he only felt that the Dementors were even more powerful. There was no chilling cold like falling into an ice cave, only a mind filled with awe and wonder at the sheer awesomeness.
perhaps.
Dementors, like basilisks, are actually good choices as pets!
"The Ministry of Magic has misused Dementors." Ian was quite critical of the Ministry of Magic. Such a stupid but cool creature, why didn't those people use it as a pet instead of a guard?
What a waste!
"??????"
The third-year student looked at Ian, who had a longing expression on his face.
The whole person was stunned.
She originally intended to invite the handsome junior from junior school to lunch, and then naturally establish a friendship, preparing and laying the groundwork for the friendship to deteriorate over time.
however.
"Oh no, I forgot my wand in the classroom, what a disaster!"
The senior student who was approached by Ian felt that she had discovered the junior student's strange sexuality. She quickly used exaggerated acting skills and a somewhat suspicious turning around to leave the stairs.
She felt she had to let her girlfriends, who had been talking about this handsome junior since the opening banquet, know that some things might not have been possible when they were alive.
"So handsome!"
Ian, unaware of his senior's thoughts, sighed again and waved to the stunned Dementor.
I climbed the stairs to the eighth-floor lounge.
"I heard that someone was caught during a night patrol last night."
"Yes, the Gryffindor couple, their clothes were stolen when they were caught!"
"Good heavens! They're so pitiful. I bet it was the caretaker, Filch, who supposedly steals the young wizards' clothes to try and taint himself with magic!"
There's always endless gossip in the Hogwarts common room, and it's the same in Ravenclaw's common room, except Ian isn't particularly interested in gossip that he can't see in person.
A group of young wizards surrounded him, eager to tell him gossip. Eager to continue learning alchemy, he quickly gave them a perfunctory reply. Before they could even finish their gossip, he had already disappeared from sight.
Watching Ian's figure disappear into the dormitory corridor, the young wizards looked at each other, their expressions becoming somewhat dejected. They huddled together and discussed why Ian's reaction had been so perfunctory.
Finally, the group reached a consensus: they had largely been isolated by Ian. A discussion then naturally ensued on how to win back the professor's friendship.
"Start practicing self-discipline!"
Ian was unaware that he had caused a misunderstanding among the young wizards. After returning to his dormitory, he couldn't wait to start studying, and he had almost finished reading several books on alchemy.
to be frank.
The wizarding world and the Muggle world have been separated for too long, perhaps only the discipline of alchemy records that science and magic once had a mutually beneficial relationship among Muggles.
"If the principles of flying brooms could be used to build airplanes and cars, environmentalists would probably all be out of a job!" Ian thought he should refer to Muggle technology more often in the field of alchemy.
He may not have much creativity or imagination, but the largest group living on this planet is certainly not lacking in geniuses and unparalleled creativity.
Besides Muggle technology, which can be used as a reference.
If Ian could create a website and solicit submissions from ordinary people using pounds sterling, he might have a chance to rise from the ashes of the masses and become a master alchemist in the wizarding world.
The Muggles are in charge of thinking.
He was responsible for using magic to make it happen.
How can this not be considered his wisdom as a future alchemy master? There are only a few alchemy masters in the wizarding world, and their imagination and creativity cannot possibly surpass that of a group.
Look at the development of the wizarding world and then look at the development of the Muggle world. Through the efforts of countless people, Muggles have even developed hundreds or thousands of ways to kill people.
And what about wizards?
It's either a curse or a big melon to eat.
What a waste of the natural advantage magic brings to wizards in invention. The fact that the Range Curse cruise missile wasn't invented is, in Ian's opinion, the fault of those who are complacent and stuck in their ways.
"It's like the Marauder's Map; it's been around for so long, but only Harry Potter will be able to use it next year. That's just outdated thinking—a love of keeping things hidden!"
Ian offered a critique.
He opened the drawer of his desk.
He pulled one out from a large pile of parchment, preparing to begin his alchemical experiments today.
His first experimental idea was to mass-produce knock-off versions of the Marauder's Map at a low cost, so that every wizard, young and old, at Hogwarts could have one.
Should we ask the twins?
Eat alone?
nonexistent!
Ian's goal is to expand his own wealth while ensuring that every student at Hogwarts has access to affordable maps, which could even advance the young wizards' nighttime exploration skills!
"That's just how times change!"
Ian began to write furiously, processing the parchment and then outlining the magical circuits connecting the runes on it. Although it was his first time practicing, his technique was not unfamiliar.
Ancient Alchemy (Level 3) 76/400
After all, this is knowledge that has been proven permanently once and for all, and the role of the panel is most evident in this regard.
This can save Ian a lot of potential practice waste.
of course.
As he puts his knowledge into practice, a deeper understanding will naturally develop in his mind, increasing Ian's skill proficiency at a rate that is only slightly slower than learning alchemical classics.
[You are crafting an alchemical artifact. Proficiency +1]
[You are crafting an alchemical artifact. Proficiency +1.5]
[You are crafting an alchemical artifact. Proficiency +1]
Surprisingly, he managed to achieve a 0.5 proficiency level. It was probably because he got stuck while trying to understand the concepts. It also broadened Ian's horizons. He quickly completed the basic engraving of the first parchment.
"The second one!"
Ian pulled out another parchment.
These things were found in the House of Requirement, including the materials for writing magic runes. You can really find anything there in the Garbage Mountain.
Ian felt that the Room of Requirement was simply another form of Doraemon.
He is seriously considering moving his small classroom to the Room of Requirement, which would be very convenient for practicing potion making, spells, and other subjects.
What?
Why leak it?
Again.
Ian really enjoys sharing.
He didn't feel the need to keep the Room of Requirement a secret from his seven years of study; it would be a waste to use the room only to serve a small group of lucky people.
It exists there.
However, very few people are able to use it.
Isn't this a kind of tragedy?
"Everyone's progress is necessary for the progress of the times. I have already received enough blessings from heaven, so why should I be afraid that others will see my back on the road to progress?"
Ian never hesitated to share his knowledge when he started his small classes.
Of course, he also has a selfish side.
For example, regarding the idea of the magic cloak, Ian doesn't plan to mass-produce them. He'll wear a flying cloak while others ride brooms, so that he'll look cooler than others, right?
There can only be one Wizard of Oz at Hogwarts!
"The third one!"
"The fourth one!"
The initial creation of the Marauder's Map was not particularly complicated, at least in Ian's opinion, but for other Hogwarts students, creating the Marauder's Map was an extremely difficult task.
After all, even Harry Potter's father, the rich second-generation hoodlum Ian should call James Evans from the perspective of Snape's blood relatives, had to work with a few other talented people and spend a lot of effort and research to create the first Marauder's Map.
It can be said.
Most wizards from families without a strong foundation would find it difficult to accomplish this alone. Ian hadn't seen the twins' copy, but he had his own way of creating the Marauder's Map.
"The most crucial part is the real-time display of names and locations, which I can only do at night because there are too many people during the day."
Ian only planned to produce fifty maps in the first batch, and then adjust them based on user feedback. He was not worried that he would be unable to complete the most complex and demanding task of Marauder's Map.
Not long ago, Ian learned some information in "Hogwarts: A Secret" that Hogwarts has alchemical tools called the Pen of Acceptance and the Book of Admission. All Hogwarts students are selected and judged by those two tools, and this is the shortcut and idea behind his creation of the Marauder's Map!
"Thank you to our ancestors, thank you to the founders, thank you to Hogwarts — and thank you to my clever little brain."
Ian didn't know how the Pen of Acceptance and the Book of Access worked, nor did he know why their scope was sufficient to cover the entire United Kingdom.
Most alchemists today have not been able to decipher its secrets, since its pages have never been touched by human fingers since the four great masters placed it there when they were building the castle.
but.
What does it matter?
Ian only knew that, based on snippets from "Hogwarts: A Secret," he had found a way to add map information and markings to the parchment he was making.
I can't say it's entirely guaranteed to succeed.
There's at least an 80-90% chance of success.
"Thanks to Teacher Mara's comprehensive guidance!" Ian realized he had forgotten to thank Teacher Mara, so he made up for it. He then found a fragment of Teacher Mara's dress and began to study it further.
The Marauder's Map needs to be continued through the night to find the high-rise building where the Pen of Acceptance and the Book of Admission are located. There is still a considerable amount of time before afternoon classes begin.
William and Michael did not return.
One might be secretly working hard somewhere, while the other might be out searching for sugarcane for his beloved goddess. Ian felt he had gained a deep understanding of both of his roommates.
"brush!"
Just as Ian was studying diligently.
A figure suddenly appeared in front of Ian. "Harpy has brought lunch for the learned Mr. Prince!" It was Harpy, the house-elf he had met in the kitchen before, carrying a plate full of sizzling steak.
Unlike the black pepper seasoning commonly found at dinner parties, this steak was topped with plenty of bright red chilies, making it look as fresh as if it had just been picked from the garden.
"Thank you too, you hardworking little elves." Ian was startled, but not surprised. He quickly recovered and accepted the steak from the house-elf Happy with a smile.
The death of Professor Ronnie Ehrlich, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, may be a sad thing, but encountering a house-elf where Professor Ronnie Ehrlich was reduced to pieces is a stroke of good fortune amidst misfortune.
Professor Ronnie Ehrlich's misfortune.
Ian's good fortune.
He was able to communicate with the two house-elves responsible for moving Professor Ronnie Ehrlich, and through a few words of praise and requests, he obtained their small help in delivering meals to his house.
We will not eat lunch in the auditorium.
It doesn't mean skipping lunch.
Happy, the house-elf, was delighted to see Ian enjoying his meal.
"Habi is happy to be able to help the learned Mr. Prince. As for the matter that the learned Mr. Prince asked of him, Habi's friend Rabi has already gone to find the ingredients and seasonings."
It's not just about delivering food.
Ian clearly had other requests for the house-elves.
"Great! You guys are amazing! This Christmas I'm definitely going to give you a set of super-duper multi-functional kitchen utensils that I made myself!"
Ian still loves the "super" naming convention.
"Oh my goodness! The learned Mr. Prince wants to give Harpy a gift! No, no, no! Harpy can't accept it! Being able to serve you little wizards is already enough to make Harpy happy!"
The house-elf Happy was pleasantly surprised, but still waved his hand in fear and refused.
"It's settled then!"
After Ian finished his steak, he handed the empty plate to the other person.
"The learned Mr. Prince is simply the best little wizard!" The house-elf Happy was so moved that tears streamed down his face, his big eyes brimming with emotion.
This group is truly easily moved: "The hobbits and rabbis will surely prepare a delicious meal for the learned Mr. Prince!"
Done.
As if hearing a noise outside the dormitory, the house-elf Happy bowed deeply and then disappeared into the dormitory—Ian's two roommates did not return.
The other young wizards from the dormitories were playing in the hallway.
"Hot pot beef is definitely better than steak!" Ian asked the house-elves Happy and Rabi for help, hoping they could eat some food different from that of the Great Infant Empire.
However, Ian's cooking skills in his previous life, which were only at the level of making fried rice, were obviously only half-baked, so he naturally couldn't teach house-elves how to make delicious food.
Professional tasks should be left to professionals.
They will do their own research.
The little wizard can simply enjoy himself.
"This time I am truly grateful to my ancestors."
Ian continued to bury himself in his studies.
As always, Teacher Mara's after-class instruction can be considered a homework assignment. The knowledge from the fragments of the gown is extremely complex and profound, and when put together, it points to an alchemical work.
To this day, Ian still hasn't been able to grasp even the basics of most of the alchemy formulas mentioned above.
He is now much stronger than when he first started learning alchemy.
This was enough for him to analyze, through some references and his own guesses, what kind of work he could create if he learned all the knowledge on the dress.
Time converter!
Yes.
The witch's task was to create that time management marvel that can no longer be made, and which is so rare that every one that breaks is one less available.
"However, this circuit and structure seem quite different from the alchemical structural analyses of time converters by alchemy masters in existing literature."
"More complicated?"
Ian consulted relevant introductory books.
I have some doubts.
The afternoon class is herbalism.
William and Michael both returned to retrieve the "Thousands of Amazing Herbs and Mushrooms" book needed for the course.
The first herb class for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff will take place in the greenhouse outside the castle.
"Today's lesson is about biting cabbage." William was still flipping through his book while walking, as if hoping to cram at the last minute and make a good impression on the herbalism teacher. He probably sneaked a peek at the greenhouse at noon; Ian really knew this type of academic genius all too well.
"Is it edible? Is it tasty? Can I take it back to my dorm to eat?"
Michael, the black guy, performed as well as ever. His three probing questions would be difficult for not only his two roommates, but perhaps even the herbalism professor to answer.
Pomona Sprout.
The Hogwarts Herbalist teacher is also the Headmaster of Hufflepuff House.
She was a short witch with flowing gray hair.
Her thick hat covered in patches and her body covered in mud made her look like a housewife, not at all like a powerful witch who could rule an entire academy.
"Children, welcome to the herbalism class. I've been looking forward to this day for a long time." Pomona Sprout smiled as kindly as a neighbor's aunt.
Ian had heard that she was an optimistic and compassionate person, the kind of person who should have been richer than Snape.
However, he lived frugally because he helped many Hufflepuffs who couldn't afford to eat.
Besides the cabbages with sharp teeth, Ian also saw spiky white cabbages in the greenhouse. The planting quantity was not large, no wonder there would be a shortage starting next year.
"Help! Help! A cabbage bit my butt!"
Some disobedient little wizards tried to provoke the biting cabbages.
He reaped what he sowed.
"Hiss! That bite force is terrifying! Maybe I could grow a whole bunch of biting cabbages and let them take on the Hungarian wood bees for me?"
The one who exclaimed in surprise was a Hufflepuff girl.
Ian looked over.
She really is the adorable little witch who utters surprising remarks in Transfiguration class.
"Quickly apply some white peony root to stop the bleeding!"
Professor Pomona Sprout rushed to save her own students and issued a warning to all students—a rather unnecessary action.
After all, the little wizard who was bitten was the most typical negative example. Professor Pomona Sprout first took the little wizard to the infirmary before returning to continue teaching.
"Everyone just saw how effective daphne odora is at stopping bleeding. This is the first lesson we're going to learn—" Professor Pomona Sprout also made full use of the remaining value of the bitten wizard. Perhaps she chose to apply daphne odora to the wizard immediately just for this moment.
"Hey, Professor Sprout isn't Snape, I can't make assumptions about her!" Ian followed his classmates and opened their textbooks, as knowledge began to flood his mind.
Nothing unexpected happened again in this lesson.
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have always gotten along quite well. William, who had secretly done his homework, unsurprisingly earned Ravenclaw a full five points.
Hufflepuff also had three points—just as get out of class was about to end, Ian saw that cute little witch seemingly steal a few biting cabbage seeds the size of broad beans.
He didn't know whether he should report the other party. If the other party really intended to plant man-eating cabbage to gang up on the dragon, his report could very well affect the beginning of a legendary story.
"I'm still too kind!"
Ian ultimately didn't speak. After class, he went to the Great Hall with his two roommates for dinner, mainly because he wanted to intercept Snape and get his hair back.
however.
Even if you hold onto something in your heart, you might not get a response. Not only was Snape absent from the Great Hall at the banquet, but even Dumbledore, the headmaster, was nowhere to be seen.
Several seats in the teachers' section were empty.
"They're definitely getting special treatment!"
Ian turned to look at the Slytherin table. Aurora was still nowhere to be seen, but he unexpectedly spotted Daphne Greengrass and Marcus Flint.
"He actually woke up!"
Ian was somewhat disappointed that he hadn't brought his gift.
They were all friends who had been on the same ship together, and he didn't know why Daphne Greengrass would shrink behind the other young wizards whenever she met his gaze.
Even when eating, they only dare to reach out and take food from behind others.
In comparison, Marcus Flint was much bolder. Even while stuffing food into his mouth at the dinner table, he kept his eyes fixed on Ian at the Ravenclaw table.
That look in his eyes.
This really baffled Ian.
This guy was the one who had gone crazy and framed me, yet he looked at me with eyes that seemed to want to devour me alive. Are all pure-blood families so unreasonable?
Just as Ian was feeling extremely resentful, a flock of owls flew into the hall amidst a commotion.
They brought letters from afar to their master.
"My mom sent me candy!"
Michael also received greetings from his family, while William received a large package. However, he did not open it; instead, he nervously ran out with the package in his arms.
It took him quite a while to return empty-handed.
"Where have you been?"
Michael is sharing candy with Ian.
"I went back to my dorm to put some things away." William continued eating his dessert, as if he wanted to make up for the time he had taken earlier, since it was almost time to clear the table.
"Why don't you take them back together later?"
Michael's question went unanswered, while Ian seemed uninterested, staring thoughtfully at the feathers on his plate. "If you fed all these owls a little laxative on Halloween, would everyone feel your Halloween wishes?" he wondered.
Dinner is over.
Ian did not receive a reply from the orphanage.
"Stop right there!"
After finishing his meal, Ian and his roommates were heading back to their dorm when Marcus Flint and his men stopped him in the hallway leading to the dorm.
There were also many Slytherin students of all grades around him.
Daphne Greengrass was among them, but she didn't want to stay with the others.
She grabbed her girlfriends and wanted to leave this place as soon as possible.
Ian looked over.
Daphne Greengrass immediately shrank back, as if pleading with her friend who didn't want to leave, but her friend held her back as if hoping she would watch the show with her.
"It has nothing to do with me!"
Daphne Greengrass suddenly yelled at Ian, her voice filled with fear. Perhaps her absence from the morning flight lesson was also because she had heard she would be taking lessons with Ravenclaw.
"How can you say it's nothing? Wasn't it because of him that you lay in the infirmary for so long? Don't be afraid, Greengrass, your family has never produced a coward!"
"Grindelwald is gone. As for Snape, my family has connections in the Ministry of Magic and can settle old scores with him anytime. We all know our Headmaster's background isn't exactly clean."
Marcus Flint turned around and spoke sternly to Daphne Greengrass.
"It's my own fault for not being healthy—damn it! Flint! You're crazy! Don't drag me down with you!" Daphne Greengrass broke free from her friend's grasp.
"Let her stay here and watch!" Marcus Flint gave the order, and a third-year Slytherin wizard blocked Daphne Greengrass's way.
"What do you want to do?"
William sensed that the visitor was up to no good and his expression became very tense.
"I'm telling you, this is a school, don't mess around!" Michael decisively pulled out his wand, but the wand of a first-year wizard was obviously not very powerful.
"This is none of your business, get out of here." Marcus Flint took out his wand, intending to cast a spell on William and Michael, but then Ian suddenly spoke up.
"What? A senior student wants to challenge a junior wizard to a duel?" Ian's eyes were a little annoyed. He thought Marcus Flint was simply incomprehensible.
"You think you're worthy?"
Marcus Flint chuckled dismissively, gripping his wand and glaring at Ian with a resentful look. He lowered his voice and demanded an answer in a stern tone.
"If you don't want to suffer, tell me what your uncle—yes, Severus Snape, our good Headmaster of Slytherin—has done to me!"
Marcus Flint's expression was full of resentment, and his emotions were fluctuating wildly, making Ian realize that his inner thoughts were not as fierce as they appeared.
Fear? Anxiety? Shame?
"Why did I lose several days' worth of memory, and then everyone in Gryffindor is saying that I was taken away because I killed the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?!"
Marcus Flint was unaware that Ian had read his thoughts.
He was practically roaring.
But Ian felt that his stern words were actually a sign of weakness.
"Isn't it possible that I don't know more than you do? I remember I was the victim you framed and falsely accused, wasn't I?" Ian curled his lip.
"What a joke! How could I possibly kill the professor! It must be you! It must be your uncle!"
He's a Death Eater! He's trying to frame me for his crimes!
Now I finally understand why Marcus Flint was so hysterical, and why he seemed to have no respect for the Headmaster of Slytherin.
"I absolutely witnessed Snape's crime, so he used the Imperius Curse on me, and the next day he staged a scene, took me away, and immediately erased my remaining memories!" Marcus Flint roared incoherently, probably terrified by his own wild imagination.
Actually it is not surprising.
If he is indeed successfully framed, his family's connections in the Ministry of Magic will obviously be useless to the Saints, and his entire family may even be implicated.
If he's not worried, who is?
"Why don't you ask the professors? If someone really framed you for killing the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, how could you possibly be allowed to return to class?"
Ian couldn't understand Marcus Flint's thought process at all.
"Of course I asked a few professors, but they were clearly no good; they didn't tell me anything. I think they were trying to cover up for Snape!"
"You're all trying to fool me! Ha! Do you think I can't see through you? I'm the scapegoat for getting rid of Grindelwald!" Marcus Flint seemed very convinced of his own ideas.
Inbreeding.
His intelligence was indeed outstanding.
"The professors at Hogwarts won't protect Snape just because of a personal relationship—you're probably still a bit out of your mind, I suggest you go see the school infirmary."
After Ian finished speaking, he tried to leave with his two pale-faced, somewhat frightened roommates. Unexpectedly, Marcus Flint immediately raised his hand and cast a spell on him.
"Legs stiffen and he dies!"
It's not some unforgivable curse.
Marcus Flint's skill level was clearly inferior to that of the previously ubiquitous senior student, perhaps because there were too many people around to conveniently cast his vicious spells.
"Armor for protection."
Ian was always on guard.
He immediately cast the Ironclad Charm, and the spell was deflected to the side. Perhaps, maybe, it was just a coincidence, but a Slytherin wizard who was cheering for Marcus Flint was unfortunately hit by it.
only.
Compared to the terrified look of the cursed person whose feet were stuck together, Daphne Greengrass's face was actually paler than the rest of the group of pure-blooded Slytherin students.
"We're doomed! We're doomed!"
Daphne Greengrass regretted waking up too soon. She thought Marcus Flint was really crazy; didn't this guy know anything about young Grindelwald's relationship with that boy?
"you--..
Ian turned away with a cold expression.
"Is this the etiquette of you pure-blood nobles? Attacking someone at the slightest provocation?" He gripped his wand, looking calmly at Marcus Flint, who stood before him with an incredulous expression.
"I need you to prove my innocence. It was your evil Death Eater uncle who killed him!" Marcus Flint raised his hand as if to chant a spell.
"Seal the tongue and throat."
Ian cast the spell before him.
The spell hit.
Marcus Flint's tongue was stuck in place, making it impossible for him to speak, let alone chant incantations. He roared angrily from his throat.
They started asking for help with their eyes.
Some of his close students pulled out wands, and William and Michael rushed over, since they hadn't learned any spells they could use to cast them.
"call!"
suddenly.
A raging fire rose from the corridor floor, its flames shooting skyward like an enraged beast, engulfing the Slytherin students in its orange-red blaze.
Flames rolled and heat waves surged, distorting the air itself. The older students reached for their wands...
But they found Ian turning his head and looking at them coldly.
The flames hovered between their feet, threatening to engulf them at any moment—the wise ones chose to lay down their wands; Slytherin students understood the importance of timing and strategy better than anyone else.
"How is that possible!"
"An arson curse? No! How could an arson curse be so terrifying!"
"He will kill us all!"
Everyone felt a chill run down their spines, and the heat wave seemed to threaten to burn them at any moment. They couldn't fathom how a mere wizard could instantly kill them all.
"I knew it!"
Amidst the terrified crowd, only Daphne Greengrass remained unsurprised. She didn't even attempt to reach for her wand; her gaze met Ian's icy stare, and she immediately raised her hands in surrender.
Then, as if realizing it was inappropriate, he squatted down and hugged his head.
"Ian is awesome!"
William's eyes were filled with fervor.
Michael, standing next to him, was also speechless.
Those standing outside the ring of fire formed a stark contrast to Marcus Flint, whose mouth was gagged and whose eyes were filled with terror.
He held the magic wand.
However, they were unable to chant the incantation.
No matter how hard I try, I can't produce a single spell.
"I've tolerated you for a long time. I understand you're under the Imperius Curse—but what does that have to do with me? I don't expect you to respect me, but you should at least respect your professor!" Ian suddenly raised his hand and pressed down on his wand.
immediately.
Marcus Flint, who was still trying to cast a silent spell, hunched over. He felt as if he had a mountain on his back and could not straighten his back no matter what.
"Before a duel, one must bow. Mr. Flint, with your illustrious status, do I really need to teach you this etiquette? Didn't your family teach you what manners are?"
Ian spoke in a gentle voice as he leaned forward.
"See, that's it."
He gave a demonstration.
When I stood up.
Marcus Flint felt the mountain on his back disappear, and his tongue, which had been stuck to him, returned to normal. He instinctively began to chant a curse loudly in resentment.
"Disarm you!"
Perhaps because he hadn't really learned any powerful magic, Ian easily deflected Marcus Flint's disarming spell into the dark wall with his armor spell.
"There wasn't even a three-note countdown, huh? Looks like I can't be polite with you either."
Ian raised his hand.
The wand emitted a green light.
"Avada Kedavra!"
His voice not only terrified Marcus Flint, causing his wand to tremble and fall to the ground, but also filled the group trapped in the flames and his two roommates with utter fear.
Green light.
It illuminated the entire corridor.
It struck Marcus Flint in the chest.
"Unforgivable Curse!!!" Marcus Flint, terrified to the extreme, turned deathly pale and collapsed to his knees, trembling all over, as if half his soul had been scared out of him.
A while later.
He then realized that he hadn't been completely annihilated, and that hot water was still seeping out of his crotch.
"How boring. You can't even tell the difference between the Illumination Charm and you dare to fight me?" Ian raised his wand, and the wand that Marcus Flint had dropped to the ground flew back into Marcus Flint's hand.
"Go on, trust me, I won't let you down again with the next spell." Ian's soft voice made Marcus Flint completely lose the courage to hold his wand.
Snapped.
The wand rolled to the ground.
Marcus Flint lost his courage as a wizard.
He understood Daphne Greengrass and chose to join her, then his eyes rolled back and he immediately fainted.
"Take your leader away." Ian extinguished the raging flames on the ground and calmly looked at a group of wizards whose eyes were filled with fear and whose faces were ashen, unable to meet his gaze.
"I don't think any of the upperclassmen will go to the professor to complain, right?" Ian's gentle words did nothing to put people at ease; instead, the group of young wizards who had escaped their predicament became even more tense.
just.
Ian quickly discovered this.
These people's self-confidence seemed to have not fallen on him, but rather they were looking in the direction behind him. Even William's flattery and praise had disappeared without a trace.
perhaps.
Marcus Flint's fainting spell also had some tactical significance.
because.
"Mr. Prince, I don't think we need their notification, after all, I've been watching here for quite some time."
"That's the voice of Albus Dumbledore."
It's so close.