It wasn't just students his own age; there were even upperclassn among them.
After a full year of his reputation spreading, even the once-proud senior wizards had set aside their arrogance around him.
There was nothing anyone could do about it.
After all, the first group of proud upper-year students who swallowed their pride to seek advice from Ian had all graduated with exceptional grades and greatly improved magical ability.
No one could resist that kind of temptation.
Pride? Face?
Please!
This was Ian we were talking about, the rlin of the new era!
What did age matter? It was just an illusion! Being personally guided by him was the real badge of honor.
No one knew who first coined the phrase, but once it spread, more and more upperclassn ca to seek Ian's advice or even attend his informal "mini-classes."
"They ca one after another,"
Ian said calmly, his voice clear and steady. His explanations were organized and logical, and Ians listened intently, nodding along.
Then, from within the crowd, a bushy brown head popped up.
"Ian, I'd like to ask about page 58 of Standard Spells, Beginner's Edition..."
It was first-year Hermione. Her bright eyes were full of curiosity as she looked up at Ian.
Ian smiled when he saw her and gave her an especially detailed answer, more thorough than those he gave others. After all, Hermione's father had paid the tutoring and "protection" fees.
Ian prided himself on being trustworthy.
Hermione asked a question about a difficulty she had encountered during her first year of spellwork. Ian listened seriously and then provided a precise and insightful explanation.
He even pointed out so of her bad casting habits. Hermione listened with total focus and often showed expressions of sudden realization.
"Wow, Professor Ian, your explanation is so clear!" Hermione exclaid, her eyes full of admiration. She reinstated the respectful title "Professor" when addressing him.
Who said she lacked emotional intelligence?
"May I co to the Ravenclaw common room tonight and join your study group?"
Hermione had been looking forward to this day for a long ti.
Yes, term had only just begun, but for a student as eager to improve as she was, every day felt like an eternity. Especially since everyone around her kept raving about how Ian's mini-class could turn dead wood into polished jade.
"Of course, no problem," Ian replied with a gentle smile. "Just co straight in when the ti cos. The doorman will ask you a question, just don't say you're there to see . I doubt it'll stump you."
He t Hermione's eager eyes and nodded encouragingly.
Upon receiving his confirmation, Hermione's cheeks flushed pink with excitent. She thanked him repeatedly before hurrying off, practically floating on air, her joy was impossible to hide.
Another good deed done.
When Ian saw that it was nearly ti for class, he finally paused his study session.
Defense Against the Dark Arts.
This was the one class Ian didn't dare skip.
He jogged to the classroom and felt a small wave of relief upon entering when he saw the familiar figure of "Grindelwald" standing behind the teacher's desk.
It seed the real Grindelwald was still keeping his mysterious distance.
When Ian slipped in right on ti, the "Grindelwald" at the desk, who was actually Aurora, disguised as "Professor Lockhart" was tapping the desk lightly with her wand.
Ian took one sharp look and imdiately recognized her real identity.
Apparently, Aurora hadn't gone to lunch at all. She had probably spent the break preparing for this lesson while disguised as Grindelwald. When this German girl focused, she was serious.
"Class is about to begin," Aurora said when she saw Ian enter, a flicker of nervousness flashing in her eyes. She shot him a fierce glare, issuing a silent warning.
A warning that clearly said: "Don't cause any trouble today!"
"No problem," Ian replied, perfectly understanding her aning.
Aurora let out a small sigh of relief, but she didn't completely lower her guard against the mischievous little wizard.
"Alright, everyone…" Aurora began the lesson.
Although her imitation of Grindelwald's tone and mannerisms was spot-on, her actual teaching style was rather proper and cautious, nothing daring or dangerous like before.
Compared to the bold version of her Ian once knew, she now seed like a completely different person.
"After all… she's changed," Ian sighed inwardly.
Listening to Aurora's flat explanations, he felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, sleepiness gradually washing over him. Aurora's monotonous voice seed to carry so kind of hypnotic magic, lulling his thoughts farther and farther away.
Before long—
Ian began to snore.
Seeing this, the "Professor Lockhart" disguise that Aurora wore actually relaxed in relief. She walked over to Ian's desk, glanced at the small tray of burning sleep incense beneath it, and the corners of her lips curved slightly upward.
"Hu~ hu~ hu~"
Ian had no idea how long he'd slept.
When he finally woke up—
It was already dark outside.
"Damn it! The potion must've overcooked by now! Aurora really did dirty!" Ian of course knew why he'd fallen asleep, he'd rely gone along with it so Aurora could teach in peace.
However—
For such a considerate friend, this was how she repaid him? Ian looked down at the six incense trays at his feet and imdiately realized Aurora must have increased the dosage midway through.
"Solid potions strong enough to knock out a legend, and I'm the only one who fell for it! She's sothing else…" he muttered, before his figure blurred like a gust of wind, racing out of the now-deserted classroom.
The corridor was utterly empty.
Only the flickering torchlight on the walls stretched his shadow long across the stone floor, before swallowing it again into darkness. Outside the castle, the night was heavy and still — even the moonlight was smothered beneath thick clouds, leaving only a few faint stars scattered across the sky. During curfew, Hogwarts was eerily silent.
Along the way—
Ian didn't even encounter a single ghost.
His footsteps echoed crisply along the stone passage as he hurried toward the moving staircases, racing upward, heading straight for the Room of Requirent.
When he finally reached the eighth floor—
He was just about to pace back and forth to open the Room according to its rules, when suddenly—
Before he could even take his first step—
Three sets of footsteps echoed down the hall.
And then—
A few not-so-unfamiliar voices reached his ears.
"Hermione! Trust ! Harry's been acting really weird lately! Sothing's off about him! Maybe… and I'm just saying maybe… he's not even the sa Harry Potter we know anymore!"
"What do you an by that?"
"Who knows, Neville! But you've got to trust my gut on this one, it's really strong!"
…
It was Hermione, Neville, and Ron.
The trio of the new tiline — out on a nightti adventure.
Judging by the sound of it—
Were they planning to hunt down… the Boy Who Lived?
(End of Chapter)
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