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A light rain was falling from the sky. Dusk in London looked like an old painter had accidentally spilled his palette, dyeing the horizon in a misty blend of gray-blue and dark purple.
The fine drizzle quietly wove a translucent veil that covered the entire city. Though the rain wasn’t heavy, it was enough to make the air damp and heavy, mixing with London’s unique haze to form a nearly tangible layer of fog.
“This dreadful weather.” Miss Helena opened an umbrella and handed a smaller one to the young lad. Raindrops slid down the old black canopy, making delicate and crisp sounds.
“Even summer has such heavy smog?” Ian was a bit surprised. The fog blurred the outlines of distant buildings and even made nearby pedestrians appear hazy, as if every person was a vague silhouette hurrying through the mist where history and reality intertwined.
Many films exaggerate London’s weight and gloom for a reason, being here, one could truly feel two entirely different eras merging within this once-glorious city.
“It’s all because of those damn capitalists,” Miss Helena grumbled furiously, not noticing the guilty expression that flashed across the young boy’s face.
“The economy is getting worse. You see poor homeless people on the streets all the time, but the capitalists’ factories keep running 24/7. They tell people there are no jobs, no profits, while slashing incomes like mad and trying to get one person to do the work of two or even three.”
“It’s ridiculous. No profit? Yet they never shut down their factories for even fifteen minutes. Every day, tons of pollution are pumped into the air.”
Miss Helena angrily condemned the British capitalists.
“I thought we had unions in our country, to protect workers’ rights and enforce the eight-hour workday?” Ian really didn’t know much about Britain’s employment situation.
Before he crossed over, his understanding of Europe came mainly from some posts on the internet.
“Ha, unions only protect their own interests. Kid, you have to understand, those workers who can join the unions aren’t even in the same class as the ones who actually do the labor.”
“If your parents were union workers, then you can join. As for the real working class, dockhands and laborers, they’re not even counted when the Prime Minister calculates workers’ living standards.” Miss Helena’s face was filled with sorrow as she spoke about the modern-day British Empire, which now only maintained appearances with polished façades.
“This year’s been especially hard. The gentry lost their usual channels for looting wealth from others, so now they’re squeezing the common folk. Can you imagine? Even Sir Charlie’s family is now eating leftover frozen roast meat!”
The “Sir Charlie” she mentioned lived just a few blocks away, a noble family fallen on hard times.
Still, despite their decline, they had maintained a fairly decent life. But now, even a baronet was cutting back on food expenses, a clear sign that the British economy was not what it used to be.
“Does this have to do with that region in the East returning?” Ian picked up on something from Miss Helena’s words. Before that region returned to the embrace of the dragon, the British Empire used to plunder hundreds of billions from it every year. The people there had long suffered British exploitation and oppression.
“It’s all because of those greedy lords! They’re like a pack of insatiable beasts! Just wait, someday they’ll all be strung up on lampposts!”
“A civilization built on plunder can never last. Their sins will end up dragging us all down!” Miss Helena really seemed to have a sharp eye.
It was as if she could already see the moment when the sun would finally set on the empire where it once never did.
“That’s a rather heavy topic,” Ian said. He agreed with her point of view, but felt like he was still too young to be discussing the rise and fall of the British Empire.
“Ah, there’s just been too much frustrating news lately… You’re right, we shouldn’t talk about such things on the day you’ve come home.” Miss Helena gently patted Ian’s head.
“Actually, our orphanage life isn’t too bad. There are still many kind people who donate to us, especially the gentleman who has been donating large sums of pounds to us these past few years.”
“This year, he gave even more… perhaps because you got into that school. When I pressed him for details, he finally admitted, impatiently, that he’s an alumnus of your school.”
Miss Helena’s voice was full of gratitude. “Although he’s not an easy person to get along with, I’m sure he’s a good man.”
“Just like that professor who took you to the school, those two give me the exact same feeling.” Her words made Ian’s eyes flicker slightly.
“Sounds like that guy is quite the tsundere.” Ian couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You’re absolutely right,” Miss Helena immediately nodded in agreement.
“So, the Orphanage can still manage. You don’t need to ask your professor to bring us your scholarship money. It’s meant to help you complete your own studies.”
After going in circles…
It turned out Ms. Helena just wanted to gently persuade Ian.
“Don’t worry, I have enough money. My classmates at school are all great people. They really love buying my handmade crafts, and I’ve made quite a fortune from it.”
As he spoke, Ian pulled out a wad of pound notes he had prepared in advance. To make the act more convincing, all the bills were of small denominations and appeared slightly worn, not fresh from the bank.
However…
This still aroused Ms. Helena’s suspicion.
“How come I didn’t know you knew how to make crafts?” She looked at the boy in front of her with a doubtful gaze, not taking the money Ian offered.
“Of course I only learned after getting into school. Turns out I’m pretty talented at it.” Ian forced himself to look sincere, with not even a hint of guilt in his tone.
“Well, that makes sense. A noble school is bound to teach students all kinds of odd skills.” Ms. Helena seemed to believe him, but still didn’t take the money.
“Keep it for yourself. You’ll have plenty of things to spend money on in the future.”
She gently patted Ian on the back of his head, comforted.
She continued walking with Ian.
On the street, rainwater puddles reflected faint rays of sunlight like fragments of mirrors embedded in the cobblestone path, reflecting a city still filled with grime even after the cleansing rain.
“What’s for dinner tonight?” Ian took the initiative to change the topic.
“Of course, your favorite, braised meat stew with radish and cabbage.” Ms. Helena replied cheerfully.
The sunset poured molten gold across the winding paths.
The silhouettes of Head of House Helena and Ian were stretched long in the afterglow. The boy walked along the familiar streets, feeling a peace and serenity he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
It was as if the months of anxiety from not being able to enter the Twilight Zone had all been relieved.
Home always had this kind of magical power.
It could smooth out all the negative emotions of a returning traveler.
“The kids have been talking about you constantly,” Ms. Helena insisted on pulling Ian’s suitcase, and even chose the largest one, partly out of her desire to care for the little one, and partly out of a stubborn refusal to admit aging.
Compared to how she looked when Ian was younger, the Head of House had aged considerably. Her once-beautiful golden hair had turned into a short, efficient gray-white style.
Years of toil and burden had aged this woman, barely in her early fifties, well beyond her actual years. Her hands especially looked like withered trees, full of wrinkles.
“I dream about them often too,” Ian said as he followed behind Ms. Helena, dragging what appeared to be the lightest but was actually the heaviest, and quite dangerous, small suitcase.
Compared to before he left for Hogwarts, the Orphanage’s Head of House seemed even thinner and more worn. As a devout nun raised by a church family, she had dedicated her life to orphan after orphan. But her faith had done little to slow the passing years etched into her body.
“After you left for school, I lost your help. Those mischievous little ones drove me crazy more than once. Without you to keep them in check, a few of those troublemakers were always running wild and getting into mischief.”
“Thankfully, I managed to get them all placed out. Mischievous little ones always seem to be favored by adoptive families. I think it definitely has something to do with that book you left behind for them.”
Ms. Helena casually spoke of daily matters, and one passing glance made Ian lower his head in guilt.
Before leaving for Hogwarts, he had indeed left a book titled How to Choose Parents, which detailed how to identify a loving home and how to win over adults. His goal, of course, was to help his younger siblings find good homes.
Staying in the Orphanage rarely offered a future, being adopted into a good family was the best path for most orphans. Those qualified to adopt were usually middle-class couples.
“It was mostly their own good luck, nothing really to do with me…” Ian tried to talk his way out of it, but Ms. Helena clearly didn’t buy it.
“No matter what you say, that book you left behind really helped the kids. At least they learned how to get along with adults. I think you’re the smartest little one we’ve ever had at the Orphanage.”
Ms. Helena patted Ian’s head as they walked toward the Orphanage. She didn’t own a car, the one she used to pick up Ian earlier belonged to a kind old neighbor.
Ian had always suspected that the old neighbor had a crush on their Head of House, but he never had any evidence or the opportunity to prove it, so he’d never been able to play matchmaker in that potential late-life romance.
Though nuns often devote their lives entirely to God, after witnessing so much suffering in the world, Ms. Helena’s faith in God had long since worn thin.
If it weren’t for the need to keep receiving church aid funding, Ian felt that Ms. Helena would’ve already “left the order” a long time ago. Ms. Helena had always leaned towards pragmatism in her thinking.
“The smartest child… I’ve heard you say something similar about Catherine and Mia, oh, and also Daniel. When he tried to ‘treat’ everyone by collecting maggots from the outhouse, you praised him too. But behind his back, you told me to make sure all those maggots crawled into the mud patch in the backyard.”
Ian began listing all the kids Ms. Helena had ever praised as the “smartest,” rattling off name after name, practically covering every child in the orphanage.
“Hahaha~”
Being exposed didn’t make Ms. Helena the least bit embarrassed. On the contrary, she burst out laughing. The two of them, chatting and laughing, finally returned to the somewhat dilapidated old house.
The Orphanage.
The exterior of the orphanage was still worn and mottled, the gray-white walls streaked with stains left by years of rain. Time had etched an unerasable mark onto this long-standing institution.
“Welcome home, child.”
Ms. Helena stepped forward and pushed open the door. The iron gate was already rusted, and the hinges emitted a harsh creaking sound due to years of neglect. There had once been a carved symbol of good fortune above the door, but it was now faded and barely visible, leaving behind only a patchwork of shallow and deep scratches , the traces of curious little hands over the years.
The soft, yellow glow of the gas lamp blurred in the curtain of rain, as if signaling an early nightfall.
As the heavy door creaked open, a faintly desolate courtyard revealed itself, quiet and peaceful. A familiar mix of the aroma of food and the scent of disinfectant wafted out , it was a smell Ian knew all too well. It felt like an invisible thread connecting every corner of this small world to him.
“It really is cabbage and radish stew with meat!”
Ian dashed off toward the kitchen. There were quite a few kids already waiting there for dinner. As soon as they saw Ian walk in, they erupted in cheers.
“It’s him! It’s him! The man who brought the cabbage stew! Our king!”
“Ian, I missed you so much! No one kicked my butt while you were gone!”
“Oh! Heavens! Ian, you’ve grown so tall! Tomorrow when you threaten me by saying I have to crawl under your legs if I misbehave, I don’t think your legs will feel narrow anymore!”
“I want a hug! Ian! I want a hug! Mia, get out of the way!”
…
The children chattered noisily all at once.
They crowded around him, talking over each other, asking about interesting stories from his trip, and some couldn’t wait to know what kind of treasures Ian had in his little suitcase.
“This is all dangerous stuff!” Ian quickly stopped a few curious kids.
“Welcome home, Ian.” The auntie in charge of cooking in the kitchen looked absolutely thrilled. She had really missed having Ian around to help , this little guy always managed to find ways to bring in some meat from all sorts of places.
“Aunt Marilyn, let me see if your cooking’s gotten rusty!” Ian said as he reached for the pot with an iron ladle , only to be smacked on the hand with a spoon by Aunt Marilyn, just as expected. The familiar sting made Ian wince, but he was smiling as well.
“Have some manners, little rascal. Take the younger ones out to wash their hands for dinner, and make sure they wash them three times.” Aunt Marilyn gave Ian a clear command.
“Got it.” Ian nodded obediently.
However…
Before leaving the kitchen with the others, he walked up to Aunt Marilyn and stuffed the wad of cash, which Ms. Helena had refused earlier, into her apron pocket.
“This is money Ms. Helena told me to give you. She said you should use it to buy more milk for the kids.” Leaving behind that cheeky lie, Ian dashed out the door.
“Wait for me, Ian! You haven’t hugged me yet!”
“Onnie said you might not come back. You need to help us smack her mouth!”
“Ian! Ian! I’ll give you all my meat tonight! Can you tell us some stories about the outside world?” A group of kids immediately chased after Ian.
Ian led them straight to Ms. Helena. Only then did the little ones quiet down a bit , a scene that made Ms. Helena struggle to keep a straight face, her lips twitching with amusement.
“Hand out your gifts after dinner,” she said as she returned Ian’s suitcase to him. “Don’t let them spoil their appetite by stuffing themselves with snacks first.”
She had probably already guessed what Ian was planning.
“If I don’t give it to them now, they’ll be too excited to eat anything later.” Ian understood kids far too well. He opened up the big suitcase and pulled out a large school bag.
All the children stared at him with glowing eyes.
And then…
Under the worshipful and ecstatic gazes of the children, Ian looked just like a magician in their eyes who could do anything. He shook out a whole pile of snacks right onto the stone slabs beneath the eaves.
All sorts of colorful treats poured out like a rainbow, dazzling and vibrant, instantly drawing the attention of every child.
Chocolate bars, potato chips, jelly cups, and brightly packaged fruit candies… things that might be commonplace to city kids were rare and precious treasures here.
“Come and get some! There’s enough for everyone!” Ian called out with a smile.
The little ones froze for a moment, then erupted in a chorus of excited cheers.
In front of the worn-down house, their small figures crowded together.
However…
To Ian’s surprise, they didn’t fight over the snacks.
Though their eyes sparkled with longing, they didn’t swarm forward as Ian had expected. Instead, they all turned to look at him.
“I want that chocolate bar!”
A little girl pointed shyly. After Ian nodded, she carefully picked one up, her face glowing with joy and satisfaction.
“Can I take these chips?”
A little boy quickly followed, his eyes brimming with excitement and curiosity. Once Ian gave the go-ahead, he gently picked up a bag of chips like it was the most precious treasure in the world.
“Take whatever you want!” Ian said helplessly to the group.
Finally, after a moment of hesitation, the kids reached out with their small hands, each only taking their favorite snack, and only one each. Their tiny hands gently touched the wrappers, and their eyes were filled with appreciation and gratitude for the gifts Ian had brought.
After every child had found their own “treasure,” Ian noticed there were still quite a few snacks left on the table. They lay there untouched, as no one reached out again.
“Take some more!” Ian, a bit exasperated, picked up some snacks and stuffed them into the hands of the nearest kids.
“But you need to eat too! If we eat it all, what will you have during the holidays?” Asked Catherine while gnawing on a gummy candy, her innocent eyes staring at her returning big brother.
“Yeah! This is more than enough for us.”
The other children nodded in agreement with Catherine. They had all learned to appreciate, share, and be grateful, lessons instilled in them by the few adults who silently cared for the orphanage.
“Tch, I’ve had enough already. Do you know what a ‘noble school’ is?” Ian huffed dramatically and played a little trick, acting all disdainful as he divided up the remaining snacks into everyone’s hands.
“Amazing, Ian!”
“So much! So much! I can barely hold it all!”
“Ian! You’re truly amazing!”
“When I grow up, I want to be like you, go study and bring good food back for everyone too!”
…
The thoughts of children are that simple.
This unexpected bounty filled every single one of them with joy. Their crisp, cheerful laughter broke the evening stillness, adding life to the otherwise quiet and worn-down space.
Ian’s gaze swept over their youthful faces one by one. Some he already knew by name, while others still felt like strangers.
This was the orphanage. Some came, some left. But whether new or old, Ian felt that anyone who walked through these doors was family.
“Of course, Tom is the exception.” Ian muttered to himself.
“Huh? What about me?”
“Were you talking about me?”
“Ian, did you just say my name?”
…
Kids had sharp ears.
Ian’s quiet mumble instantly caught the attention of several boys named Tom, all turning to him in confusion.
“….”
Ian couldn’t help but laugh and shook his head.
“I was talking about a classmate at school. Yeah… someone I don’t know that well.” Ian explained as he led his little brothers and sisters back inside. He first stopped by his dorm room.
Everything was just as he remembered, simple, but tidy.
His bed had been carefully made, as if silently welcoming him home.
“I clean your room every day! I even cleaned it three times this morning!” Catherine popped out of the group, beaming proudly as she showed off.
She was one of the kids who had looked forward to Ian’s return the most.
“Alright, alright, you’re the best. I’ll tell you a story tomorrow,” Ian said, winking at her. She was the only child in the orphanage who knew he had gone off to learn magic.
“I want to hear a story too!”
“Yeah! If Catherine gets a story, we want one too!”
“Ian! You promised me that when I grew up, you’d tell me the story of Orphan, remember? Look at my head, it’s grown so big now!”
…
Their chirping voices were loud and chaotic, and Ian, feeling a headache coming on, could only agree to everything.
“If you all eat your dinner properly tonight, I’ll tell stories to everyone tomorrow.”
As soon as he said that,
A group of children immediately swarmed toward the washbasin area. Only Catherine remained standing where she was, and Ian figured she probably wanted to ask something about Hogwarts.
“Come sneak into my room tonight?”
Even Ian felt like a wicked villain after saying that, but he genuinely believed that anything related to Hogwarts should be shared privately with this special little girl, away from the others.
“Okay, okay!” Catherine instantly perked up and gave a little hop. But soon, her gaze fell back to the pile of snacks in her hands, her young face showing a bit of inner conflict.
“What’s wrong?” Ian walked over, concerned.
“I’m trying to decide which snacks to give Miss Helena and the weird uncle she brought back,” Catherine answered without hesitation, voicing her dilemma.
“Don’t worry, I’ve prepared separate gifts for them. You don’t have to share your stuff… eating too much junk food isn’t good for older people anyway.” Ian reassured her, then followed up curiously, “What’s this about the strange uncle Miss Helena brought back?”
He was starting to feel a little wary.
This was Britain, after all.
Plenty of people had tried to sneak into orphanages to do unspeakable things. If you studied history carefully, you’d know the term copper obsession originated from this very land.
“You know, all of us kids were picked up by Miss Helena. She often brings new children back, but a few weeks ago, she brought home a quiet uncle who doesn’t talk much.”
“That uncle is a good person. He often teaches us to write and draw, but he only comes out before six o’clock. No matter what happens after six, he never leaves his room.”
Catherine’s description intrigued Ian.
“Can you take me to see him?”
Ian stowed away his luggage, locked his small suitcase securely in the wardrobe, and followed Catherine to a corner room that, as far as he could remember, was supposed to be unused.
Knock knock knock~
Catherine knocked politely on the door for him.
“Is Hogwarts fun?” She couldn’t resist lowering her voice to ask.
“Of course! When you’re old enough, I’ll take you to Hogwarts. You’ll be able to walk around like you own the place,” Ian replied, ruffling Catherine’s head dotingly.
“Do all magic users walk around like that?” Catherine’s imagination was clearly in full swing.
“Uh… that’s a metaphor. It means you won’t have to worry about being bullied at school. If someone messes with you, just tell me and I’ll make sure they get a good beating.”
Ian struggled to hold in a laugh as he explained.
The little girl looked thoughtful.
“I get it now!” She smacked her forehead.
“You’re the school tyrant!”
Catherine looked like she’d made a major discovery, her eyes sparkling with awe.
“I am not a school tyrant. I beat up school tyrants,” Ian quickly defended his reputation. His serious expression didn’t fool Catherine at all.
“Then I really get it! You’re the tyrant of tyrants! The Overlord Tyrant!”
This was clearly a sharp little girl.
“…” Ian rubbed his face helplessly.
“Let’s just knock again. Is he really not in there?”
Trying to steer the conversation back, Ian asked.
“No way. That uncle never leaves his room at night.” Saying this, Catherine raised her tiny hand again and gave the door a gentle knock with her little fist.
So gentle, it was unlikely anyone inside would even hear it.
“Let me try.”
Ian raised his fist and banged heavily on the door.
BANG BANG BANG!
The doorframe shook slightly from the force.
“That’s the aura of a real school tyrant.” Catherine’s eyes lit up even more, absolutely convinced.
“Who is it?” Before Ian could correct her, a tired voice came from inside. Maybe the guy had been napping when Catherine tapped earlier.
“Uncle, my elder brother is back. He says he wants to meet you.” Catherine called through the door, then leaned in closer to Ian and whispered, “I don’t think he’ll see us. Once it’s past six, not even a rain of gold coins could get that uncle out of his room.”
Just as she finished her confident statement,
Click
The old wooden door opened.
“I heard someone say gold coins? Where?” A messy head poked out. The man had an unkempt beard and a weathered face.
He looked to be in his early thirties, but his face bore the weariness and fine lines of someone much older. His light brown hair was streaked heavily with white.
Appearance-wise, he fit Ian’s stereotypical image of a homeless man perfectly.
“Ah?” Catherine froze when she saw the door open and the “weird uncle” step out.
“Uncle Lupin must be in a good mood today. This is my elder brother,” She said, cheeks flushed, clearly embarrassed after being proven wrong. She quickly made introductions between the two and then darted off toward the dining hall.
Radish-and-cabbage stew with meat awaited.
Who wouldn’t love it?
If you were late, you wouldn’t be able to get any.
That was the little girl’s psychological justification for her behavior.
“Lupin?” Ian was a bit stunned as he sized up the tall, thin man who had just walked out. He was wearing a tattered cotton coat, covered in patches everywhere.
“Remus Lupin?” Ian asked again, somewhat suspiciously, trying to confirm.
“It’s Remus John Lupin… do you know me?” The weathered-looking man corrected Ian, which more or less confirmed his identity, one that few might still remember.
Of course, Ian didn’t know all that much about this man, but he knew enough. Not just from memories of his past life, but also from asking the professors at school about this poor fellow.
Mainly, it was for the sake of researching the Wolfsbane Potion. There were plenty of werewolves in the world. If he could manufacture a cheap and effective Wolfsbane Potion, he’d definitely win their favor and loyalty.
Truth be told, Ian had made some breakthroughs. Werewolfism could indeed be classified as an infectious disease, rather than a shortcut version of the Animagus transformation as he’d once theorized. Just like the well-known “Dragon Pox,” lycanthropy was a magical disease, more accurately, a contagious illness known as Lycanthropy Madness.
It was transmitted through saliva and blood. Trying to eliminate the side effects of being a werewolf in hopes of uncovering a new Animagus path was a dead end.
“I know a bit, I suppose?” Ian blinked as he responded.
Anyone familiar with the Harry Potter world would know that Remus Lupin was a very dangerous werewolf. When he was four years old, his father had earned the enmity of the werewolf Fenrir Greyback.
As revenge, the werewolf broke in through the window and bit young Lupin in his bedroom. From that day on, Lupin became a werewolf. His parents tried everything to save him, but to no avail.
They both thought he wouldn’t be able to attend Hogwarts, no parent would want their children near a werewolf. But after Albus Dumbledore became Headmaster, he found a way to allow Remus to attend.
From that moment on, Lupin became one of Dumbledore’s most loyal followers.
In order to ensure Remus could safely attend Hogwarts, Dumbledore even had a Whomping Willow planted on school grounds.
The Whomping Willow concealed a passage leading to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. Every full moon, Remus would use that secret passage to go there and transform.
The goal, of course, was to keep both the students and Remus himself safe. It was a little-known piece of history, most only knew about Lupin and his story with James Potter and the Marauders.
“Well, since you already know who I am, I suppose I don’t need to introduce myself.”
Lupin looked a bit surprised, but still let out a relieved sigh and tucked the cheat sheet he’d been hiding in his sleeve back into his pocket.
Ian’s sharp eyes caught sight of the densely written notes on the paper, a fake background story, something about going bankrupt after a failed investment and ending up on the streets.
To be honest, just looking at Lupin standing there, his aura of destitution was almost overwhelming. That kind of background story did fit. Ian just doubted that Lupin could convincingly describe the “wealthy” part of his past.
“So before you went bankrupt, you were a rich businessman?” Ian voiced what he’d seen.
“That’s what the backstory says,” Lupin answered calmly.
“Then, can you tell me how many eggs a rich man eats for breakfast?” Ian was the kind of person who liked to verify anything he was suspicious about, so he immediately launched into a cross-examination.
“Uh?”
Lupin instinctively looked like he wanted to reach for the cheat sheet.
“No peeking.”
Ian’s words made the down-and-out werewolf quite helpless.
“I suppose… at least five? And probably with some grilled sausages and vegetables?”
He thought for a bit and then gave an answer based on pure imagination.
“…”
Ian felt like he was witnessing the Western version of someone pretending to be rich but messing up the details. He could hardly imagine how such a completely flawed persona had won Ms. Helena’s trust.
“You didn’t cast a Confundus Charm on Ms Helene, did you?” Ian looked at the young, nervous werewolf with a strange expression.
“Of course not. Ms. Helena is a very kind person, and she wouldn’t ask me such weird questions either.” Lupin sighed helplessly.
“If you’re infiltrating somewhere, the least you can do is prepare properly. Katherine said you’ve been at the orphanage for weeks, and you still haven’t memorized your fake identity?”
Ian looked at him as if he were witnessing something unbelievable.
“What do you want me to do? I’m not a Ravenclaw… maybe you don’t know this, but I was in Gryffindor. Memorization has never been my strength.” Lupin might be a fine wizard, but like many excellent Gryffindors, he seemed to share the same flaw.
“Even if you’re a Gryffindor, the basics of doing a job for money, you should at least try to be honest about it, right?” Ian said, then seemed to remember something.
“Oh right, you might be interested to know, Gryffindor’s house points this year aren’t that great. Ravenclaw is way ahead.” His completely random comment left Lupin stunned for a long while.
“…I didn’t take any money…”
It took him a while to finally respond with a low voice.
Alright then.
Now he knew who the real heartless capitalist was.
“It’s fine, I’ll give you some.” Ian pulled out a heavy coin pouch and handed it to Lupin. It was full of bronze Knuts that he had already started to feel annoyed by.
One gold Galleon was equal to 493 bronze Knuts, so even though the pouch was full, it didn’t quite add up to a single Galleon. Ian wouldn’t even feel comfortable depositing it at Gringotts.
Of course, Lupin, who had been poor for so long, certainly wouldn’t mind.
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
Though his eyes were practically glued to the pouch, he still didn’t lower his dignity to accept it. As an adult wizard, his pride wouldn’t allow him to take a handout from a kid wizard.
“This is payment you deserve.”
Ian stuffed the pouch into Lupin’s robes. Who knows whether it was because Lupin felt cold in summer or for some other reason, but the way he instinctively hugged his robes looked pretty funny.
“Dumbledore said you were rich, told me not to be polite with you.” Lupin seemed like he was trying to salvage a bit of dignity. He glanced around, then moved aside from the doorway he had been blocking.
“Want to come in and have a chat?”
He seemed to assume that the little wizard must have many doubts in his heart.
“Dumbledore sent you to protect me?” Ian walked into the rather shabby room, thinking he had already figured out the reason for Lupin’s appearance at the Wu’s Orphanage.
“Dumbledore did send me to watch over you, to make sure you don’t cause trouble in the Muggle world. He said you brought back some very, very dangerous… things?”
Lupin clearly didn’t know much about Ian’s situation. Maybe he really had been wandering the streets until Dumbledore conscripted him.
“Oh, how little trust our headmaster has in me. Like I’d recklessly blow up my own house.” Ian’s indignant reply didn’t make Lupin feel any safer.
“What!? You did bring explosives!?” Lupin’s eyes widened in disbelief. In his memory, Dumbledore had only mentioned “special magical creatures.” He thought he was dealing with another Newt Scamander.
Who would’ve thought… he got assigned a demolition expert!
“It was a metaphor!” Ian hurriedly tried to salvage his reputation again.
“Alright, good, as long as you didn’t actually bring explosives back.” Lupin visibly let out a huge sigh of relief. However, the young wizard’s silence made his previously relaxed expression freeze up again.
“So… you did bring explosives, didn’t you?” Lupin’s eye twitched violently. He was starting to realize that the quest Albus Dumbledore had given him was no easy task.
And this was just a first-year wizard!
“How can you call potions explosives…” Ian’s response lacked confidence. He decisively changed the subject.
“Perfect! Since you’re here, I’ll have something to do this holiday. You can help me with some interesting experiments.” Ian rubbed his hands together, looking excited.
Lupin looked a little unsure.
“Dumbledore told me you’re skilled in Potions and Alchemy. While I did alright in those subjects in school, I’ve forgotten a lot of things now. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help or tutor you very much.” Maybe Lupin was just being modest, but it didn’t matter to Ian.
“No worries, I don’t need you to teach me anything.” Ian waved his hand cheerfully. His carefree attitude made Lupin a bit confused.
“Then what do you want me to help you with?”
He asked patiently in a calm tone.
The little wizard’s eyes lit up.
“Of course, to assist me with experiments!”
Ian could already envision himself striking gold in the wizarding world with his Wolfsbane Potion.
“So, you mean… you want me to be your lab assistant?”
Lupin seemed to suddenly understand.
“Of course, no problem!”
He smiled warmly, happy to help.
However,
The next moment, the smile on this future werewolf professor’s face froze completely.
“No, no, no. What I mean is, I’ll do the experimenting… and you will be the experiment!” Ian grabbed Lupin’s unusually hairy arm.
“Look! What a perfect research subject!”
Ian carefully plucked a few hairs from Lupin’s arm.
“…”
Lupin stared at the little wizard, his facial expression changing nonstop in an absolutely spectacular display. After holding it in for a long time, he finally asked in a hoarse, bitter voice:
“You… know I’m a werewolf?”
Clearly, this had caught him off guard. He thought Ian’s “knowing a bit” only referred to knowing that he had studied at Hogwarts.
“What do you mean werewolf this, werewolf that? That sounds so distant. All I know is, once you entered the doors of our orphanage, you’re family, and of course I help family solve problems!”
Ian tried to justify it with a righteously noble excuse.
“Would you treat your family as experimental subjects?”
But Lupin wasn’t falling for it.
“Well… that depends on what kind of family…” Ian trailed off, then added, “Oh, looks like Dumbledore hasn’t told you yet about how I used the power of love to redeem another rebellious and evil family member.”
As he spoke, Ian pulled out a syringe.
The little wizard in front of him… had pulled out that kind of thing.
Lupin, who had been letting Ian fiddle with his arm the whole time, suddenly jolted and pulled his arm back, fixing Ian with a serious look, as if the boy didn’t understand the true nature of a werewolf.
“Maybe your potions skills really are impressive, you are a Prince, after all, but that doesn’t mean you’re qualified to perform something as dangerous as extracting a werewolf’s blood.”
“I don’t care about losing a bit of blood, but you could end up with irreversible contamination. I imagine you’ll be learning about this sort of thing in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes in a few years.”
Lupin, ever the kind-hearted man, issued his warning and reminder with stern sincerity as he looked at the little wizard in front of him.
At that moment, Lupin thought he finally understood why Albus Dumbledore had sent him to keep an eye on this first-year student. It was almost unbelievable, someone bold enough to even think about drawing a werewolf’s blood, and this kid was supposedly a Ravenclaw, a House known for its caution and meticulous thinking?
“You did take my payment, though…” Ian said softly, glancing meaningfully at the bulging pouch in Lupin’s robes.
“???????”
Lupin suddenly realized, he’d been scammed by a first-year. That handful of knuts, the kind even stray dogs wouldn’t sniff at, was supposed to be payment?
Who the hell pays their test subject in pocket change!?
Speechless, Lupin instantly pulled the pouch out, intent on giving it back. He reminded himself once again, there’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world.
But Ian didn’t reach out to take it.
“Of course, I know how dangerous werewolf blood is.” Ian slipped on a pair of dragon-skin gloves. He had done his research into the infectious nature of werewolf blood; within the magical world, it was akin to a certain type of sexually transmitted virus. It was transmitted through wounds and could even be passed to offspring.
“It’s because I know how dangerous it is that we have to cure it. For everyone’s sake.”
Ian once again launched into a speech about righteousness.
“You’re calling it a disease?” Lupin let out a derisive laugh. “It’s a curse! A terrible curse!”
At last, his inner “study loser” surfaced.
“Wanna bet? If I manage to cure it, you’ll owe me a hundred years of labor!” Ian declared with full confidence, he’d already found a direction for improving the Wolfsbane Potion.
All he lacked was a living werewolf test subject and a virus sample.
“Labor for what exactly?” Lupin raised an eyebrow.
“That’s a matter for the future,” Ian said with classic Ravenclaw evasiveness. He had ambitions, he wanted to be the wizarding world’s own printing press for gold galleons. This was big business, and he wasn’t about to spill the details of his “magical mint” dream to just anyone.
“I doubt I’ll live a hundred years.” Lupin chuckled hoarsely, assuming the kid was joking. But seeing Ian still eyeing his arm, he quickly tugged his sleeve back down.
“No worries, your son can finish the work for you.” Ian looked regretfully at Lupin’s arm, feeling like the babysitter Dumbledore had assigned him clearly lacked sufficient trust.
“You actually think I’ll have children?” Lupin gave a bitter smile like he’d just heard the worst joke in hell. “That’s never going to happen. No father would ever want his child to be born cursed like him.”
As he spoke, he let out a long sigh, his voice tinged with sorrow.
He, too, had once liked someone.
“That’s why curing the disease is the most important thing.” Ian, wanting to prove his capability, took out a whole bunch of difficult-to-refine potions he’d brewed.
But,
Instead of being convinced, Lupin’s eyes widened in shock.
“You raided Snape’s vault!?” He stared in disbelief at the room, now filled with Ian’s potions.
“Uncle Snape has a vault!?” Ian’s eyes lit up again.
“Er… so you didn’t raid it. Well, if you give up on experimenting on me, maybe I’ll tell you where Snape hides his stash.”
Lupin’s tone was tinged with regret. He still hoped to convince the little wizard to give up his dangerous idea. Deep down, he was worried Ian might run off to Diagon Alley to find another werewolf for his so-called research.
Deep down, he was worried Ian might run off to Diagon Alley to find another werewolf for his so-called research.
“Forget it. If I can solve the werewolf problem, I’ll make way more money.” Ian’s relentless spirit came into full view, and Lupin was left speechless, unsure how to respond.
“I’m going to find Dumbledore.”
In the end, his only option was to tattle to the Headmaster.
“Dumbledore will support me. Don’t you know? Everyone at school calls me Ian Dumbledore!” Ian had clearly gauged just how little Lupin knew about him, and now he was pulling the ol’ “borrow authority” trick.
“Hmm?”
Lupin indeed froze for a second, expression gradually becoming a mix of suspicion and uncertainty.
“Heal!” Ian whistled.
“Look, this is my phoenix!”
He held out a black phoenix that had just phased in from the void. To strengthen his claim, he even tried holding the struggling bird down to dye its feathers on the spot.
“Kyeh-kyeh-kyeh-kyeh-kyeh~”
The black Phoenix’s terrified screech echoed throughout Lupin’s room. The young werewolf felt his brain freeze up a little, he couldn’t tell if Ian was telling the truth or just bluffing.
“Although it looks a bit odd and the cry is rather abstract… that Apparation-like feeling just now…” Lupin had no choice but to convince himself inwardly that the ‘black chicken’ Ian was holding really might be a Phoenix.
He suddenly realized that the serious and concerned expression on Albus Dumbledore’s face when he’d asked him to watch over Ian might not have been only because he was worried about a Hogwarts student.
“Really, my Wolfsbane Potion is crazy good,” Ian said, failing to hold onto the struggling black Phoenix that Apparated away, left with only a mouthful of Phoenix feathers and hands dripping with the bird’s slobbery “revenge.”
“This isn’t a question of whether you can brew Wolfsbane or not…”
Lupin tried once again to dissuade the little wizard.
However,
Knock knock knock~
A knocking sound came from outside the room.
“Ian, Ian, time to eat! Ask Uncle Lupin if he’s eating too?” came Catherine’s childish voice, tinged with the urgency of someone afraid the pork-and-cabbage stew might get eaten up by the other kids.
“Food first. We’ll talk about this afterward.” Ian packed all his things back into his money pouch.
“You all go ahead, I won’t be coming out tonight. It’s not a full moon, but… I still want everyone to get used to my habits,” Lupin said, exhaling in relief as he waved the little wizard away.
“Mr. Lupin, think it over seriously. Do you want to spend your whole life cowering in a dark corner, or do you want to embrace a hope that lets you walk in the sunlight…? Even if there’s just the tiniest shred of hope, I think you should grasp it.” Ian said softly, earnestly, looking back at Lupin. Under Lupin’s somewhat evasive gaze, Ian turned the doorknob and stepped outside.
The little wizard left the door open behind him.
Taking Catherine with him, he headed for the feast hall.
…
Inside the room…
Lupin slumped unceremoniously to the ground, staring at the hallway beyond the open door, where warm light spilled from the corridor into the dim room.
“There’s no such thing as hope… Wolfsbane Potion isn’t hope.”
The young werewolf raised his hand and gave a small wave. Magical power surged, and the door slammed shut behind Ian, plunging the room back into darkness once again.
…
The Next Day
The rain had passed, and the skies had cleared.
The orphanage in London greeted a bright and sunny morning.
Sparrows chirped busily in the branches.
Sunlight filtered through the clouds and bathed the aged, weathered building in a warm golden glow. The orphanage courtyard, still moist with dew, exuded a fresh earthy fragrance that mingled with the scent of flowers and grass. Ian, who had gotten up early to read, felt refreshed and invigorated.
The children poured out of their rooms in neat, if slightly worn, clothes, their faces beaming with curiosity and anticipation for the new day. Some played tag in the yard, their laughter ringing out cheerfully; others sat quietly on benches, savoring the rare moment of peace.
Of course,
There were also little ones who ran straight to Ian.
“Ian! You really are our lucky star! It’s only your second day back, and another kind-hearted person came to make a donation!” Catherine tried to mimic the overly polite tone of adults on TV.
However,
Her babyish little face just made her look like a goofy husky.
Which was kind of hilarious.
“A donor? Where? Take me to them!” Ian was instantly suspicious that his “good uncle” had returned in disguise. He perked up and quickly motioned for Catherine to lead the way.
It wasn’t even the weekend.
Who comes to an orphanage to donate this early in the morning?
“This way! This way! The donor even had his daughter share candy with us! Not as good as the ones you gave me! But still really tasty!”
Catherine marched ahead like a little officer leading her “army.” She had always loved reporting to Ian since she was small, then dragging him to where visitors were so she could hear him talk big and make jokes about them.
“They’re in Miss Helena’s office!” Catherine led Ian right to the Director’s office door. But just as they arrived, the door opened, and she hurriedly dragged Ian to hide behind the wall.
“That’s the kind person! And his daughter’s so nice! She gave me two pieces of candy!” Catherine whispered on, but Ian was already looking at the man stepping out.
A middle-aged man was accompanied by a daughter just over ten years old.
“I think this donation will mean a lot. I can see it from the smiles on these children’s faces. I trust every cent will go where it should.”
The middle-aged man was still conversing with Miss Helena, the Director.
He looked to be in his forties, tall and lean, with refined manners. He wore a well-tailored dark suit, a crisp white shirt, and a neat tie, radiating the air of a classic British gentleman.
“Of course. We keep a detailed record of every expense. Donors and the public alike have the right to monitor how the funds are used,” Miss Helena responded with a broad smile. From her expression, it was clear this donation wasn’t a small one. She appeared quite formal in front of the man.
Normally, she wasn’t picky about the number of people who donated. But when it came to wealthy donors, she couldn’t help feeling a little nervous about accidentally offending them.
Rich people were unpredictable.
Say the wrong thing and they might just take offense.
“Although I usually do a bit of charity work with my lover, I’ve never donated such a large amount, twenty thousand pounds, to any charitable organization before.”
“This isn’t a small sum for me either. You might laugh, but the reason I’m here today… is partly selfish. I’m hoping that God might forgive some of my past mistakes because of this.”
“At the very least… not punish my daughter.” The middle-aged man looked at the silent girl beside him. The little girl with a head of fluffy brown hair seemed somewhat distracted.
“She’s been… experiencing some strange things recently.” The man let out a heavy sigh, his tone full of worry, though he didn’t elaborate further to Miss Helena.
In fact, Miss Helena had encountered plenty of similar situations before.
To people in Britain, it wasn’t uncommon to try to seek God’s protection at the last minute, especially among the wealthy. So Miss Helena knew exactly how to respond.
“I will keep this child in my prayers. And I truly believe that a merciful God would never let such a lovely child suffer painful hardships.”
Miss Helena temporarily shifted into the role of a devout believer.
Her words made the middle-aged man visibly pleased.
However, the little girl looked up at Miss Helena and said,
“If there really were a God in this world, if God truly answered people’s prayers, then there wouldn’t be famine in Africa and so many other poor countries.”
“Ma’am, no offense, but maybe you should watch the science and education channel on Saturdays…” Even though her mind was heavy with worry, the girl still weakly muttered a rebuttal.
Of course, She was mainly speaking to her father, who had dragged her here to donate money without telling her mother. The girl wasn’t against donating to help others, but she clearly held no belief in so-called divinity or superstition.
“You’ve already experienced several of those strange incidents… how can you still refuse to accept the truth?” The middle-aged man said cryptically, rubbing his daughter’s head firmly.
“There must be a reason… maybe we need to, ” The girl started to say more, but suddenly looked up and spotted Catherine and Ian hiding behind the corner.
“It’s him! It’s him! It’s that guy! Dad! He’s the one Mom and I ran into! After we saw him, all those strange things started happening to me! That guy even called me by my name the moment he saw me! He must’ve cast some kind of spell on me!” The little girl shouted, her voice exploding with a sharp, high-pitched shriek.
It was hard to believe a girl barely in her teens could project her voice like a trained soprano.
“Hm?” The middle-aged man and Miss Helena both immediately turned to look. They saw Catherine standing there with her hand raised, face flushed red and full of panic.
“I didn’t… This is the first time I’ve ever seen this girl,” She thought the accusation was directed at her. Ian couldn’t help but laugh and shook his head, stepping out from behind the wall.
“She means me, Catherine.” The young wizard gestured for Catherine to leave quickly.
Then he looked at the somewhat familiar girl not far away. He couldn’t help but feel a bit emotional, he had thought he wouldn’t meet the trio until school started.
“Miss Hermione Granger, for someone who believes so firmly in science, how can you be throwing around words like ‘Spell’?” Ian sighed lightly, a bit helpless.
That’s right.
The girl who had been dragged by her father to donate money to the orphanage, hoping to dispel strange occurrences with some kind of “mystical power”, was none other than Hermione, the same Hermione Ian had encountered before his trip to Hogwarts.
Fate certainly has its strange twists.
“I… I…”
Hermione was left speechless by Ian’s words. She stammered for a while, ears flushed red, still unable to give a coherent response.
“You could’ve just told me that maybe sorcery is just a kind of science that hasn’t yet been explained.” Ian offered helpfully, which only made Hermione even more embarrassed.
“Dad! He’s the one Mom and I met!”
The girl could only hide behind Mr. Granger, seeking help. Miss Helena, who had been a bit confused, suddenly understood what was going on after hearing Hermione’s accusation.
“Ian is one of the older children here at the orphanage. He sometimes goes out to try and earn a little money to help ease our living expenses. If he unintentionally offended you or your family in the past, I sincerely apologize on his behalf…” As she spoke, Miss Helena quickly waved Ian over, flustered.
“That’s not it at all. I don’t think this child has done anything inappropriate. My wife spoke very highly of him. It’s just… my daughter can be a bit willful sometimes.” Mr. Granger wasn’t concerned about Hermione’s accusations. He glanced at his increasingly anxious daughter, then at Ian, who had both outstanding looks and an extraordinary presence.
“Young man, are you a Divinist?” Mr. Granger’s eyes flickered slightly.
He didn’t use an accusatory tone.
Still, Ms. Helena quickly stepped in to explain for Ian.
“He’s a good kid. He was even admitted to a very prestigious school on a full scholarship. I believe there’s been some misunderstanding, he doesn’t have any Divinist talent.”
Ms. Helena looked visibly nervous.
“What school?” Mr. Granger maintained his smile, but suddenly asked out of the blue.
“Uh…” Ms. Helena hesitated for a moment before answering, “If I remember correctly, it’s the Hogwarts Academy for Gifted Youth.”
“That’s the name, right, Ian?” She looked at Ian, still a bit uncertain.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
Ian looked up at Mr. Granger with a bright, sunny smile. If he remembered correctly, this was a dentist in Britain with a pretty decent income. Medical professions were high-paying in the West, so the Grangers should at least be middle class. A successful dentist could easily earn hundreds of thousands of pounds per year.
“Hogwarts Academy for Gifted Youth…” Mr. Granger murmured. He often attended events for the wealthy and was certain that no such school existed in Britain.
“It was after I met you that weird things started happening to me, you have to tell me why!” Hermione’s courage seemed to have grown since hiding behind her father.
“I told you we’d meet again. See? Here we are. Who knows? We might even end up as classmates.” Ian shrugged, his words leaving Hermione completely confused.
Ms. Helena looked just as puzzled.
“So, there really is such a school?” Only Mr. Granger seemed to be catching on to something, looking at the young boy in front of him with a mix of doubt and curiosity.
“Of course. It’s there, has been for a thousand years.” Ian responded calmly.
“A thousand-year-old school…” Mr. Granger’s pupils trembled. Clearly, he was deeply shaken, but his excellent self-control kept it from showing too much.
“Hogwarts, recruiting special children… I mean gifted children.” Ian corrected his phrasing after glancing at Ms. Helena.
“I see.”
Whatever it was, Mr. Granger seemed to have understood something. He looked deeply at the boy before him, then lovingly glanced at his daughter.
“You stay here. Ms. Helena and I have a few things to discuss.”
That statement left not just Hermione stunned, but also Ms. Helena bewildered.
“Are you planning to withdraw your donation?” She asked cautiously.
“Of course not.” Mr. Granger was already walking toward the office. Ms. Helena quickly followed, nervous and unsure, leaving Ian and Hermione alone in the hallway.
“I just didn’t expect God to respond so quickly. So I think I need to give more…” It was unclear what exactly Mr. Granger had figured out.
But it was clear he intended to increase his donation to the orphanage.
“Your dad’s not thinking of donating a school recommendation fee, is he?” Ian teased the flustered and clearly overwhelmed Hermione.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hermione jumped onto a chair, successfully “towering” over Ian in height.
“Is it because I beat you in a debate that you cursed me? I’ve read a lot of books on this!” She gathered her courage and questioned him.
“Why would you think I’m that petty?”
Ian looked at the clearly anxious Hermione. He could sense her emotions and mindset, it seemed she was going through the unstable magic surge that most young wizards experience.
“It wasn’t you?” Hermione’s eyes grew uncertain.
“I thought you didn’t believe in magic or the supernatural.” Ian spoke again, amused.
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying? ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.'”
Looks like Hermione had been reading Sherlock Holmes.
“Didn’t I tell you that the first time we met?” Ian knew full well that her fear of him came from not understanding magic.
“Huh!? You said that!?” Hermione looked confused, she couldn’t recall that at all. And of course she couldn’t, Ian was just messing with her.
“Just kidding. I didn’t say that. I only told you to believe that magic exists. And I think you’ve already realized that you and I are the same kind of people.”
Ian clearly understood Hermione’s conflicting, ostrich-like mindset.
After all, he could literally read minds.
“I knew it! You didn’t say that!” Hermione exploded, glaring furiously at the little wizard. She was practically climbing the walls in rage, but at least she had spirit.
“Yes. Not only do I remember what I didn’t say, I also remember what you promised.” Ian looked at the girl who, without realizing, had climbed up the wall like a spider.
“Huh?” Hermione had a bad feeling.
So she climbed higher.
“Splat~”
Due to her unstable magic power…
She fell off the wall.
Ian caught her just in time with a Levitation Charm.
“This…”
Hovering in mid-air, Hermione finally realized what had happened. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at Ian’s raised hand, more precisely, at the wand in his hand.
“Magic is real!?” She gasped.
Ian didn’t respond.
“So, Miss Granger, when are you eating that desk? I’ve had the thorny dinner table ready for you for a whole year now.” He grinned and said the words Hermione least wanted to hear.
(End of Chapter)
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