You can read ahead up to 110 chapters on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395
If witnessing the real existence of magic had already shocked Hermione, then the words spoken with a beaming smile by Ian sent a true chill down her spine.
It was as if a memory from the past had suddenly ambushed her. Hermione felt her scalp tingle and her spine go cold; she wanted to run. But the only door leading outside was directly behind Ian.
She looked back at her father, Mr. Granger, and Ms. Helena in the office. The door was tightly shut, and in the end, she couldn’t muster the courage to seek her father’s protection.
“You… you… What are you talking about? I don’t understand. I really don’t understand anything!” Torn between admitting and denying, Hermione chose the one thing she usually despised most, pretending to be clueless.
The “smells so good” law was still at work, even across space and time.
“You know the person standing in front of you is a wizard, which is your understanding of a practitioner of magic, right?” Ian raised his wand slightly, causing Hermione’s gaze to sharpen in focus.
Her body visibly tensed, and the panic in her eyes clearly showed her fear that Ian might cast a spell on her.
“You… you wizards have to obey the law too, right? In our British legal system, intentionally harming someone is a serious crime! According to Section 18 of the Offences Against the Person Act 1861, you could be sentenced to life imprisonment!” Hermione clearly didn’t just love reading; she could even recite British law articles fluently, though perhaps that was also a result of her mind scrambling in panic.
Though she stuttered at first, Hermione soon became eloquent and quick-tongued. Her slightly flustered performance, however, made Ian want to laugh.
He felt like the phrase “empty bluff” had suddenly been given form.
“Who said I was going to hurt you? Do you have persecution delusions or something?” Ian deliberately showed a disdainful expression and put his raised hand to his temple.
“As your kind senior, I just wanted to let you witness the wonders of magic.” As he spoke, Ian pulled a wisp of silver memory from his mind.
“Is kind really the right word here?” Hermione had a stubborn obsession with word choice. Even though her eyes were locked on Ian’s every move and her heart was full of anxiety, she still opened her mouth to point out his vocabulary misuse.
Of course—
From Ian’s perspective, there was nothing wrong with his word choice.
“When you’re able to attend Hogwarts, then you’ll understand just how accurate my description was.” Ian gave the little girl a meaningful glance.
He realized maybe he didn’t dislike showing off after all.
“What are you doing?” Hermione’s gaze locked onto the silvery strand attached to Ian’s wand, like flowing moonlight, it shimmered with a soft and mysterious glow like the brightest star in the night sky.
In that moment, Hermione wondered if it might be spinal fluid.
“Obviously, I’m helping a certain forgetful little girl recall the things she’s selectively chosen to forget.” With a wave of Ian’s wand, the silvery thread extracted from his temple drifted lightly in the air. Like a silken ribbon guiding a mystical journey, it brought Hermione her first truly awe-struck encounter with magic.
The silver thread floated mid-air—
Then burst into points of starlight, enveloping everything around them in a dreamlike glow, as if the surroundings had been painted with magical pigments.
The boundary between reality and illusion blurred. Ian and Hermione were transported back to the moment they met, the vivid scene making Hermione gape in astonishment.
“My God! This feels just like a dream!” Her small mouth parted into a surprised “O” shape, forgetting how to close again, as if even breathing had temporarily stopped.
Hermione saw herself and her mother in the distance, walking toward the divination stall. She saw another “Ian” starting a conversation with her and her mother.
Everything felt so real, like she had been transported back in time. Hermione’s mind instantly recalled countless time-travel-themed films.
So unbelievable. So soul-shaking!
Standing as an observer, Hermione was just as stunned as Ian had been when he first experienced such magic. She tried to reach out and touch the nearby utility pole to confirm whether what she was seeing was real.
Unsurprisingly, Ian’s memory-replay magic had inherited some of Dumbledore’s flair, just as the little girl successfully touched the pole, her hair exploded thanks to Ian’s sneaky prank.
“This is magic?!”
Hermione didn’t suffer any pain or injury like she might from an actual electric shock, it was all a carefully crafted illusion. Still, when she opened her mouth to speak, puffs of smoke drifted from between her teeth.
“No, this is ironclad proof that you agreed to eat the table.” Ian raised his hand and gestured toward a nearby scene, where past events were playing out once again.
And the little wizard had even slowed it down like a playback, afraid Hermione might miss any of the dialogue. It was a display of a future British gentleman’s meticulous thoughtfulness.
“Great suggestion. I’ll give you one too, New Theory of Numerology is an excellent book. You should give it a read.”
“There’s no such thing as magic in this world!”
“What if there is?”
“Then I’ll eat this table right here!”
Not far away, the earlier version of Hermione made that bold declaration. As Ian replayed this cringeworthy moment from her past, the real Hermione immediately covered her face in shame and frustration.
“Then I’ll eat this table of yours.”
“Then I’ll eat this table of yours.”
“Then I’ll eat this table of yours.”
…
Ian had fun playing the audio in a loop from his own memory, even adding various voice effects to Hermione’s line. This was essentially like making a real-time parody remix video right in front of the person involved.
“Alright! I get it! I get it!” Hermione tried to interrupt Ian’s live remix. Her eyes turned red, tears welling up.
But stubborn as ever, she refused to let them fall.
“Do you want me to apologize? Fine, sorry!” Hermione, too, demonstrated a sort of craftsman’s pride. But her slightly defiant tone didn’t quite convey genuine sincerity.
So—
Thinking it was the perfect chance to fix Miss Soon To Be Beaver’s bad attitude, Ian simply resumed the memory playback.
“Oh, got it, Miss Hermione Granger. I remember what you said. People who don’t keep their promises grow up to be bald, oh.” Memory-Ian said this to memory-Hermione.
Although this time he didn’t loop the line or turn it into a remix “video,” Hermione was still utterly horrified hearing it. Her panic was now written all over her face. She instinctively raised her little hands to cover her head, a slight trembling betraying the fear and chaos inside her.
“Is this a curse? Or some kind of magic that comes true if you don’t fulfill your word?” The little girl, who still knew next to nothing about the wizarding world, couldn’t hide the alarm in her voice.
“That’s for you to decide,” Ian replied with a sly grin. Once again, he showcased his specialty: not telling lies, but never quite telling the truth either.
He was confident that a girl who loved her looks wouldn’t dare to take the gamble.
Hermione indeed didn’t dare.
But—
When she saw Ian pulling out the divination table again, her eyes widened in horror. The table’s surface was now transformed, covered in thorns.
“No! I don’t want to eat something like that!”
Hermione swallowed nervously. To her, the little wizard in front of her was practically trying to kill her. Eating wood was already bad enough, but wood covered in thorns?
How could she even bite into that? If it didn’t pierce her mouth, it’d stab her stomach!
“Well, then there’s nothing I can do.”
Ian deliberately shrugged, immediately making Hermione more anxious.
“I don’t want to go bald!”
The little girl’s voice was tinged with tears, though she stubbornly held her ground. “Then I’ll learn magic too! I’m sure I can figure out a way to undo your curse!”
To be fair—
Despite her current ignorance, Miss Soon To Be Beaver’s deep-rooted confidence was still plainly evident. She truly had a gift for learning magic.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have earned the reputation of “Hermione and her two useless male companions.”
“School won’t teach you how to lift curses. But I can offer you something through my Transfiguration class, it can turn this table into a delicious little cake.” At last, Ian revealed his true intent: “All for just one thousand, no, five hundred, okay, three hundred pounds. At that price, you’ll be free from the baldness curse you brought on yourself, oh!”
Ian had no idea how many little savings Hermione had.
He’d even played a small trick with his words, just in case Hermione ever tried to complain to a visiting professor. He wasn’t afraid of punishment, but he did care about maintaining his image.
“I don’t believe you! I’ll ask my dad to send me to Hogwarts!” Miss Soon To Be Beaver hadn’t forgotten the name Ian had mentioned earlier. In her mind, her father could surely find a way to get her into the school.
This kind of thinking was common among children from elite families. In fact, Hermione’s future as a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic was no doubt positively influenced by her upbringing.
After all, in Western countries, dentists are relatively rare and highly valued. Outstanding dentists can even make their way into the upper class.
Being surrounded by that kind of environment, it’s no surprise she developed a knack for politics… just like how she firmly believed her father could get her into a magical school.
This kind of thinking wouldn’t exist in the mind of someone like Harry Potter, who grew up effectively as a left-behind child.
“Once you’re at Hogwarts, this price won’t be available, oh…” Ian showed no worry at all. He didn’t believe that a student as eager for knowledge as Hermione could resist the temptation of a Little Ian’s Magic Masterclass. In the last few months, he had already expanded his lessons across other Houses.
Truly, the school was blooming with his pupils.
“You’re only one year ahead of me!” Hermione shouted. “I’m leaving!”
In her eyes, the little wizard was genuinely terrifying, she even imagined black devil horns growing out of Ian’s head.
The little loli instinctively wanted to distance herself from Ian. However, as she ran around recklessly within Ian’s memory illusion, she acted too fast for Ian to even lift a hand to stop her dangerous behavior.
“This is just an illusion. In reality, we’re still in the orphan—” Before Ian could finish his sentence, there was a dull thud.
The next moment—
Miss Soon To Be Beaver (Hermione) was seen clutching her forehead and collapsing to the ground. She had clearly run straight into the edge of the memory illusion, into a wall that existed in the actual orphanage.
“I did warn you.” Ian sighed and helped Hermione back up.
“You did that on purpose!” Hermione finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into loud sobs.
“…”
Honestly?
Hermione crashing into a wall wasn’t something Ian had planned. His memory illusion magic certainly wasn’t on par with Dumbles’, so of course there were invisible boundaries to it.
“You crybabies are something else.” With a flick of his wand, Ian dispelled the illusion. He and the now-crying Hermione returned to the orphanage hallway.
“Here, take a book. Stop crying.” Ian pulled a book from his money pouch, a work by the one and only Gilderoy Lockhart. He used to have quite a few of these, though most of them had already been repurposed as toilet paper.
To be honest, wizarding world toilet paper was simply not up to par.
“What book is this? A magic book?”
For most kids, candy might be the go-to to cheer them up, but Hermione was an exception. She was immediately drawn to the trash-tier book Ian offered.
“Magical Me” Just from the title alone, Hermione seemed to see a doorway into a fantastical world.
“You still have to lift the curse!” Hermione clutched the book Ian handed over tightly.
“Didn’t you say you’d find a way to fix it yourself?” Ian blinked innocently.
“Of course I can!”
Hermione, who had always been strong-willed, instantly replied. Though she was still deeply worried about going bald, she also remembered the thorn-covered table Ian had pulled out earlier, and wasn’t about to gamble on that option.
“Well then, then it will be alright. Taking a gift means no tattling, oh.”
Ian smiled slyly as he manipulated the eleven-year-old girl before him, just as he had anticipated. After Mr. Granger arrived, Hermione didn’t breathe a word about what had happened earlier.
Even when Mr. Granger asked why her eyes were red, she only replied that sand had gotten in them. At least when it came to keeping promises, Hermione’s only exception seemed to be eating tables.
“If possible, Mr. Prince, I’d like you to recommend my daughter to your school. Whatever compensation you need, feel free to ask.”
Mr. Granger had clearly already deduced much of the situation. That generous donation he made definitely wasn’t for nothing. The way he subtly allowed Ian to spot the donation certificate during their conversation was a calculated move.
“You see? Your dad’s much more generous than you,” Ian teased Hermione before turning back to her father when she pointedly looked away.
“If you’re able, I hope you can keep an eye out within your social circle for families interested in adoption. I’d really appreciate it if you could help some of my younger brothers and sisters here.”
Ian knew the value of teaching someone to fish over simply giving them one. No amount of donations could compare to finding a true home for the children of the orphanage.
“Of course, it would not be a problem!” Mr. Granger agreed immediately. He reached out and patted Ian’s head. “You’re a wise child. Looks like Ms. Helena wasn’t wrong about you.”
Ian graciously accepted the compliment.
“As for Hogwarts, that won’t be an issue either. Miss Granger will soon receive her School letter. And once she’s at school, I’ll definitely look out for her.”
“You might not know this… but I’m kind of a school tyrant,” Ian whispered the last bit conspiratorially, casting glances left and right. It was a blunt self-introduction, since he figured Mr. Granger wouldn’t quite understand his self-proclaimed status as the “emperor” of Hogwarts.
“I sincerely thank you,” Mr. Granger replied, showing no surprise at Ian’s “confession.” Perhaps he’d already seen the brilliance in the boy.
Before leaving with a still-worried Hermione, Mr. Granger gave Ian a friendly wave and even made his daughter say goodbye.
Reluctant and slightly indignant, Miss Soon To Be Beaver obeyed.
“I will find a way to break that baldness curse! I will!”
She seemed to have mistaken the book Ian gave her for a real magical textbook. As she left the orphanage with her father, she continued to clutch Magical Me tightly in her arms.
At that moment, young Miss Hermione Granger still had no idea—
The “baldness curse” might just be the smallest of the psychological shadows she’d ever have.
The true looming shadow was her soon-to-be mentor: Ian Prince.
And it had only just begun to descend upon this girl who hadn’t even officially stepped into the wizarding world.
Of course, that shadow would also be what ultimately pushed her fate toward greatness.
Whether it would be a blessing or a curse… perhaps only the future Hermione, writing her own epitaph, would know.
(End of chapter)
“I don’t want to go bald!”
The little girl’s voice was tinged with tears, though she stubbornly held her ground. “Then I’ll learn magic too! I’m sure I can figure out a way to undo your curse!”
To be fair—
Despite her current ignorance, Miss Soon To Be Beaver’s deep-rooted confidence was still plainly evident. She truly had a gift for learning magic.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have earned the reputation of “Hermione and her two useless male companions.”
“School won’t teach you how to lift curses. But I can offer you something through my Transfiguration class, it can turn this table into a delicious little cake.” At last, Ian revealed his true intent: “All for just one thousand, no, five hundred, okay, three hundred pounds. At that price, you’ll be free from the baldness curse you brought on yourself, oh!”
Ian had no idea how many little savings Hermione had.
He’d even played a small trick with his words, just in case Hermione ever tried to complain to a visiting professor. He wasn’t afraid of punishment, but he did care about maintaining his image.
“I don’t believe you! I’ll ask my dad to send me to Hogwarts!” Miss Soon To Be Beaver hadn’t forgotten the name Ian had mentioned earlier. In her mind, her father could surely find a way to get her into the school.
This kind of thinking was common among children from elite families. In fact, Hermione’s future as a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic was no doubt positively influenced by her upbringing.
After all, in Western countries, dentists are relatively rare and highly valued. Outstanding dentists can even make their way into the upper class.
Being surrounded by that kind of environment, it’s no surprise she developed a knack for politics… just like how she firmly believed her father could get her into a magical school.
This kind of thinking wouldn’t exist in the mind of someone like Harry Potter, who grew up effectively as a left-behind child.
“Once you’re at Hogwarts, this price won’t be available, oh…” Ian showed no worry at all. He didn’t believe that a student as eager for knowledge as Hermione could resist the temptation of a Little Ian’s Magic Masterclass. In the last few months, he had already expanded his lessons across other Houses.
Truly, the school was blooming with his pupils.
“You’re only one year ahead of me!” Hermione shouted. “I’m leaving!”
In her eyes, the little wizard was genuinely terrifying, she even imagined black devil horns growing out of Ian’s head.
The little loli instinctively wanted to distance herself from Ian. However, as she ran around recklessly within Ian’s memory illusion, she acted too fast for Ian to even lift a hand to stop her dangerous behavior.
“This is just an illusion. In reality, we’re still in the orphan—” Before Ian could finish his sentence, there was a dull thud.
The next moment—
Miss Soon To Be Beaver (Hermione) was seen clutching her forehead and collapsing to the ground. She had clearly run straight into the edge of the memory illusion, into a wall that existed in the actual orphanage.
“I did warn you.” Ian sighed and helped Hermione back up.
“You did that on purpose!” Hermione finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into loud sobs.
“…”
Honestly?
Hermione crashing into a wall wasn’t something Ian had planned. His memory illusion magic certainly wasn’t on par with Dumbles’, so of course there were invisible boundaries to it.
“You crybabies are something else.” With a flick of his wand, Ian dispelled the illusion. He and the now-crying Hermione returned to the orphanage hallway.
“Here, take a book. Stop crying.” Ian pulled a book from his money pouch, a work by the one and only Gilderoy Lockhart. He used to have quite a few of these, though most of them had already been repurposed as toilet paper.
To be honest, wizarding world toilet paper was simply not up to par.
“What book is this? A magic book?”
For most kids, candy might be the go-to to cheer them up, but Hermione was an exception. She was immediately drawn to the trash-tier book Ian offered.
“Magical Me” Just from the title alone, Hermione seemed to see a doorway into a fantastical world.
“You still have to lift the curse!” Hermione clutched the book Ian handed over tightly.
“Didn’t you say you’d find a way to fix it yourself?” Ian blinked innocently.
“Of course I can!”
Hermione, who had always been strong-willed, instantly replied. Though she was still deeply worried about going bald, she also remembered the thorn-covered table Ian had pulled out earlier, and wasn’t about to gamble on that option.
“Well then, then it will be alright. Taking a gift means no tattling, oh.”
Ian smiled slyly as he manipulated the eleven-year-old girl before him, just as he had anticipated. After Mr. Granger arrived, Hermione didn’t breathe a word about what had happened earlier.
Even when Mr. Granger asked why her eyes were red, she only replied that sand had gotten in them. At least when it came to keeping promises, Hermione’s only exception seemed to be eating tables.
“If possible, Mr. Prince, I’d like you to recommend my daughter to your school. Whatever compensation you need, feel free to ask.”
Mr. Granger had clearly already deduced much of the situation. That generous donation he made definitely wasn’t for nothing. The way he subtly allowed Ian to spot the donation certificate during their conversation was a calculated move.
“You see? Your dad’s much more generous than you,” Ian teased Hermione before turning back to her father when she pointedly looked away.
“If you’re able, I hope you can keep an eye out within your social circle for families interested in adoption. I’d really appreciate it if you could help some of my younger brothers and sisters here.”
Ian knew the value of teaching someone to fish over simply giving them one. No amount of donations could compare to finding a true home for the children of the orphanage.
“Of course, it would not be a problem!” Mr. Granger agreed immediately. He reached out and patted Ian’s head. “You’re a wise child. Looks like Ms. Helena wasn’t wrong about you.”
Ian graciously accepted the compliment.
“As for Hogwarts, that won’t be an issue either. Miss Granger will soon receive her School letter. And once she’s at school, I’ll definitely look out for her.”
“You might not know this… but I’m kind of a school tyrant,” Ian whispered the last bit conspiratorially, casting glances left and right. It was a blunt self-introduction, since he figured Mr. Granger wouldn’t quite understand his self-proclaimed status as the “emperor” of Hogwarts.
“I sincerely thank you,” Mr. Granger replied, showing no surprise at Ian’s “confession.” Perhaps he’d already seen the brilliance in the boy.
Before leaving with a still-worried Hermione, Mr. Granger gave Ian a friendly wave and even made his daughter say goodbye.
Reluctant and slightly indignant, Miss Soon To Be Beaver obeyed.
“I will find a way to break that baldness curse! I will!”
She seemed to have mistaken the book Ian gave her for a real magical textbook. As she left the orphanage with her father, she continued to clutch Magical Me tightly in her arms.
At that moment, young Miss Hermione Granger still had no idea—
The “baldness curse” might just be the smallest of the psychological shadows she’d ever have.
The true looming shadow was her soon-to-be mentor: Ian Prince.
And it had only just begun to descend upon this girl who hadn’t even officially stepped into the wizarding world.
Of course, that shadow would also be what ultimately pushed her fate toward greatness.
Whether it would be a blessing or a curse… perhaps only the future Hermione, writing her own epitaph, would know.
(End of chapter)
You can read ahead up to 110 chapters on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395