Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter) Chapter 19 18 Unexpected! Faster Than Tomorrow!

You can read ahead up to 15 chapters on my P*treon: spatreon/darkshadow6395

The sun rose over the peaceful village of Hogsade, which was not without its bustle. Between the villages, wisps of smoke rose into the air, mingling with the early morning mist. Although it was still early, many wizards were already wandering the streets, drinking, chatting, and leisurely enjoying themselves.

The window of the small wooden house was not large, but it was fitted with transparent glass. Every ti the sunlight pierced through the clouds and gently poured in, it cast a patchwork of light and shadow across the room.

Occasionally, a few vines wrapped around the window lattice, with small, unknown flowers nestled between the green leaves, gently swaying in the wind, releasing a faint fragrance mixed with a hint of earthiness.

"Brush your teeth! Wash your face! Greet the brand new day!"

This was not Ian's second day in Hogsade. In fact, he had already been here for several days, and during this ti, Snape, who had left him here, had not co once.

If it weren't for Ian's exceptional self-sufficiency, the difficulty of a young boy, just over ten years old, living in a strange place would be no less than surviving in the wilderness.

"Eat a honey-filled pie, start a self-disciplined day!"

Ian had already beco completely familiar with the environnt around him. He first went to Honeydukes, a candy store, to buy breakfast, then headed to The Three Broomsticks tavern to grab a glass of lemonade.

"Glad to see you, Ian."

Madam Rosrta the Innkeeper was a charming lady, with an allure that many regulars found irresistible. However, she had no effect on Ian, who clearly preferred younger, sprightlier girls.

"If you could sell a Butterbeer, I'd be glad to see you, too, Miss Rosrta," Ian said, his eyes fixed on the shelves behind Rosrta.

He had always been very curious about Butterbeer, which everyone seed to praise endlessly. Unfortunately, despite multiple attempts over the past few days, he had not yet succeeded in obtaining a glass.

Even gold galleons sotis lost their power.

"If you could magically age to thirteen right now, I'd gladly get you that drink," Rosrta replied, obviously another polite rejection.

"Rules are dead, people are alive. If you know how to adapt, you'll make big money," Ian said, not giving up.

"You have an interesting point. But rather than dreaming about making big money, I think the fines from the Magic Departnt are probably a bit closer to ," Ian continued, his tone light-hearted.

Rosrta smiled and handed Ian a glass of lemonade.

The lemonade, without sugar, was so sour that Ian's face twisted in discomfort.

Of course, he couldn't bla anyone else.

He could only bla himself for not getting used to the tea here, which often included milk and broth.

"It's awake! It's awake! These lemons definitely have added acidifiers!" Ian's half-sleepy eyes suddenly cleared up much more.

"Hahaha, I don't sell that kind of lemon! I just squeezed two extra lemons for you!" Rosrta laughed happily, grabbing the money Ian had left on the table.

This was her way of preventing any possible returns from Ian.

"..."

Ian faced the "full malice" of the adult wizards.

What could he do?

Of course, he could only mutter to himself, "I earned two lemons," while popping two mint candies into his mouth and quickly retreating from the "evil wizard's" lair.

Over the past few days, he had visited many of the town's shops and had beco a familiar face. He had adapted to the environnt remarkably quickly—sothing most young wizards couldn't do.

To be honest, even now, Ian had not fully adapted to the life of wizards here.

The prices were much higher than in the Muggle world.

If it weren't for the cold gold galleons Snape had left behind, Ian might have been reduced to a street urchin selling wild vegetables, the kind of fate that would make Ron feel pity.

"Ian, would you like to play a ga of wizard's chess?"

Along the cobblestone streets, there were not only shops but also various vendors, with a middle-aged wizard wearing a comical hat enthusiastically waving at Ian.

He was a regular vendor who set up a stall to challenge others to a ga of chess. His rates were reasonable— one silver Sickel per ga, and if you won, you'd get five silver Sickels from him.

"Why don't you try scamming soone else? I'm still just a child," Ian said, his gaze lingering only for a mont on the moving chess pieces on the table.

He rejected the offer firmly.

The reason was simple— he had already lost several silver Sickels to this chess player. This chess player understood psychology well and always made you feel like you had almost won.

Whether it was a beginner like Ian or an experienced wizard, they all ended up reluctantly handing over a silver Sickel with a sigh of "What a pity."

At first, Ian thought he might be a genius at wizard's chess, but after seeing an international chess competitor also sigh and hand over a silver Sickel, Ian realized the chess player's trick to making money and never attempted to challenge him again.

"Honestly, you have potential. With more practice, you might win," the street vendor said seriously.

Ian pretended not to hear him and jogged away from the "unforgivable" pitfall that was the chess challenge.

"Incendio!"

The sound of the spell echoed as a small fla leaped from the tip of his elder wood wand.

Just as Ian had planned.

Back in the small wooden house, he began his disciplined routine for the day.

He had already learned four charms from 'Standard Spells: Beginner'—the Lighting Charm, Levitation Charm, Unlocking Charm, and Repairing Charm—each at the beginner level.

Now he was practicing his fifth charm, which was one of the few in the first-year textbook that could have so offensive effect.

The Fire-Making Charm.

It was a charm that summoned flas to ignite things, often used as a substitute for Muggle lighters or flathrowers.

However, if the fire from this charm hit a person, it would inevitably cause so degree of burn, making it one of the few offensive spells available to first-year wizards.

"Incendio!"

"Incendio!"

"Incendio!"

The flickering flas continued to dance, and Ian's proficiency on his personal panel grew steadily.

''[Incendio (Level 1): 1/100]''

When the skill reached level one, Ian felt the familiar fatigue settling over him. He knew it was ti to take a break from his studies for the day.

He tidied up, and did so laundry— there was quite a bit to do. Life without a television lacked so of the entertainnt technology brought, but it offered a satisfying sense of fulfillnt.

When nightfall ca, Ian went to bed earlier than usual. The reason was simple—today was the special day when he would enter the Twilight Zone world in his dreams.

"I wonder if Ariana has returned."

As his consciousness crossed so boundary in deep sleep and entered the world completely separated from the living, Ian slowly opened his eyes in the world behind the mundane.

"Huh?"

The scene in front of him gradually ca into focus.

However, this ti, Ian didn't see the familiar dreamlike grass and sky or the usual birds welcoming him in a tree-filled landscape. Instead, he found himself in an unfamiliar place.

A palace.

Magnificent.

After Ian appeared, countless pieces of furniture seed to co alive, growing hands and legs and scrambling in every direction.

"People! It's people!"

"How scary!"

"Ah! Help!"

In the midst of the chaotic noise, only a golden long bench remained untouched.

"This is… truly unexpected," Ian thought.

A witch sat gracefully upon the bench, looking up at the visitor.

'(End of Chapter)'