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Dumbledore possessed a unique kind of charm, one that was not akin to the allure of a Succubus. Instead, when he emerged from the depths of the Forbidden Forest, the professors felt a sense of grounding, their tension dissipating as if a heavy fog had been lifted.
The previously grim atmosphere transformed in an instant. Ian experienced a sensation reminiscent of a county mayor arriving in a theatrical performance, heralding a clear and sunny day.
Could it be that Dumbledore was the source of this newfound security?
“Headmaster! Quickly! It’s that… that dark wizard!” Ian felt a flicker of joy within him; when it came to apprehending Tom, this venerable headmaster had unparalleled experience.
With Dumbledore back in the fold, capturing Voldemort’s remnant would surely be a straightforward task. Ian couldn’t help but wonder if Dumbledore would permit him to incinerate Voldemort’s remnant with a well-placed spell.
“There’s no need to rush; I’ve cast a special enchantment that will prevent anyone from escaping the grounds of Hogwarts. We can take our time; first, I need to assess the situation,” Dumbledore said, his gaze deep and contemplative, exuding an air of calm.
Yet, Ian felt a twinge of confusion.
‘Such magic exists? How come I didn’t know about it?’
Several professors appeared equally perplexed, having stumbled upon a gap in their knowledge. But since it was Dumbledore who assured them, they instinctively chose to trust him.
“Who can shed light on this situation?” Dumbledore’s gaze shifted to Professor McGonagall as he asked.
“To be honest, the other professors and I are not well-informed either; we just arrived here, drawn by the commotion caused by Mr. Prince,” McGonagall replied, glancing at Ian, who was still suspended in mid-air by Professor Sprout’s Levitation Charm.
“Dumbledore, he… he showed us his memory; he encountered the one who cannot be named, You-Know-Who!” Professor Sprout’s expression was one of disbelief. Professor Flitwick, perched on his “customized mini” broomstick beside her, looked equally worried and shaken.
Compared to McGonagall, the deputy headmistress, these two Heads of House clearly lacked sufficient knowledge of the historical truth; they had always believed, like everyone else, that Voldemort had perished a decade ago on that fateful night.
“How could it be You-Know-Who? How could he still be alive? He should have died, vanquished by the mysterious magic bestowed upon the Boy Who Lived…” Professor Flitwick struggled to accept that Ian might be fabricating memories, even as he hoped that Ian’s recollection was not the truth.
This internal conflict left the small professor’s expression quite complex.
It was Voldemort!
The wizarding world had endured Voldemort’s tyranny for far too long.
After finally emerging into a brighter future, who would wish to return to that era of anxiety and fear? Even the professors at Hogwarts still harbored lingering fears from the past, shrouded in dark ideology.
This was the lingering power Voldemort had left behind.
Both Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout shared similar psychological scars, which explained their flustered reactions upon witnessing Ian’s memory.
“Yes, Dumbledore, Harry has defeated Voldemort; that vile creature cannot possibly still be alive!” Hagrid, too, was among those unwilling to accept the truth.
After speaking with conviction, he quickly added, “Sorry, Ian, I’m not doubting you or thinking that you’re deceiving us; it’s just… perhaps you misinterpreted what you saw, or maybe there are some other attention-seeking individuals masquerading as You-Know-Who.”
Hagrid was grasping for a reasonable explanation.
Snape stood silently beside him, his expression dark and uncertain. He had attempted to speak several times but seemed to reconsider and ultimately refrained from commenting.
“This isn’t entirely impossible, after all…” Dumbledore stroked his beard, appearing to ponder for a moment.
“Our old friend has spent his life fearing death; it wouldn’t be surprising if he found a way to evade it. This isn’t a particularly difficult problem to address; we should be grateful that our young wizard has narrowly escaped with his life.” Dumbledore’s gaze turned to Ian, who was still suspended in mid-air.
“Mr. Prince… sir, are you alright?” His voice was steady and powerful, imbued with a kind of magic that seemed to soothe the heart.
“Of course.” Ian shifts his body to indicate he is unharmed.
He even performed a backflip in mid-air for Dumbledore— the expressions of the nearby professors were quite peculiar, and Professor McGonagall appeared to want to say something but hesitated.
“You should thank the professors for their timely arrival.” Dumbledore could hardly bear to watch Ian’s antics; Hagrid beside him was somewhat amused.
The expressions of the other three Heads of House were tinged with embarrassment, while Snape’s expression darkened further.
“Get down!”
Snape gritted his teeth and scolded Ian, and the next moment, he watched as Ian glided through the air as if swimming, effortlessly maneuvering behind several other professors.
“????”
Professor Sprout, who was maintaining the Levitation Charm on Ian, widened her eyes in confusion; she couldn’t comprehend why Ian seemed to control the direction of the charm she had cast.
The magic was hers!
Why did it feel as if it had become someone else’s?
“Dumbledore, I believe Mr. Prince doesn’t require our rescue, for when we arrived, he was pursuing that… unmentionable You-Know-Who,” Professor Flitwick hesitated but ultimately corrected Dumbledore’s statement.
His small flying broom looked particularly comical. In truth, Professor Flitwick could ride a standard broom, but his customized broom was better suited for aerial combat. Who would have thought there would be no battle, and the young wizards had already saved them the trouble of fighting?
“I think… using the term ‘pursuing’ might be more fitting?” Professor Sprout surveyed the area, her heart pained by the sight of the damaged precious plants.
“Mm?”
Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Hagrid, who had been comforting Fang, also widened his eyes upon hearing Professor Flitwick’s words, his mouth agape in shock.
“Hiss! Ian, what have you done!”
His booming voice was filled with astonishment.
To this half-giant caretaker, Ian’s accomplishments were simply unfathomable; the level of magic was likely second only to that of Harry Potter, the boy he had always been concerned about.
“I was protecting our school, Hagrid.” Ian seemed to be explaining his actions to Hagrid, but in truth, he wanted Snape to understand that he was not seeking trouble.
He cast a subtle glance at Snape, but the Potions Master’s dark expression did not lighten; instead, it deepened—indeed, Ian had the potential to become a Dark Lord.
“Is that so?” Dumbledore’s gaze flickered slightly as he sought confirmation from Professor McGonagall.
“Yes, Dumbledore, it seems that this is indeed as absurd as it sounds; this young wizard actually knows how to wield Fiendfyre. I suspect You-Know-Who did not anticipate this,” McGonagall sighed helplessly, pulling Ian, who was hiding behind her, to the forefront. Her emotions were a mix of fear and regret that this little wizard was not a Gryffindor.
“Mr. Prince, your magic is remarkably powerful, and your transformation is quite impressive, but I must insist you tell me where you learned such dangerous magic as Fiendfyre.”
McGonagall’s tone was stern, carrying an unusually serious weight, yet the way she looked at Ian mirrored how he had explained himself to Hagrid earlier. This Head of Gryffindor’s expression was directed at Ian, but her gaze subtly shifted towards Snape, who stood nearby.
In her view, Ian’s ability to conjure Fiendfyre must be linked to Snape, and the other two Heads of House likely thought the same, so all three of them turned their attention to Snape.
“…”
The Hogwarts Potions Master looked utterly speechless.
His face twitched slightly, and his hands clenched together, but even with the veins on his temple throbbing, he merely turned his gaze elsewhere.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Snape ultimately chose not to explain anything. As he watched his good uncle take the blame, Ian naturally refrained from offering any explanations, instead finding a way to justify his use of Fiendfyre.
“Professor McGonagall, thank you for your kind words; I believe this is also due to the Headmaster’s guidance, as he has been instrumental in my training with Fiendfyre,” Ian responded, appearing humble. This was indeed the truth, as it had happened before, so after he finished speaking, he shot a cheeky grin at Dumbledore.
“No wonder… no wonder your Fiendfyre is so controlled,” Professor Flitwick exclaimed as if struck by a sudden revelation. It seemed he finally understood where Ian had acquired such advanced magic.
First, the Patronus Charm.
Now, Fiendfyre!
One was more profound than the other! If Dumbledore was secretly teaching him, then everything made sense; all the professors at Hogwarts knew that Dumbledore was a master at manipulating fire.
“Albus?!”
Professor McGonagall appeared somewhat astonished, while Professor Sprout seemed lost in thought.
“Indeed, Minerva.” Dumbledore first glanced at Ian, then slowly nodded. His acknowledgment transformed Ian from a mischievous child dabbling in dark magic into a diligent student earnestly studying under the Headmaster’s tutelage.
“You… how could you… this is extremely dangerous magic,” McGonagall stammered, hesitant to publicly question Dumbledore’s decision, yet feeling that his actions were perplexing. For many years, this Headmaster had always emphasized the importance of safety in education.
“Mr. Prince needs to learn Fiendfyre for specific reasons, but, Minerva, may I explain the details to you later?”
Dumbledore seemed to be covering for Ian, and upon seeing McGonagall nod, he revealed his signature smile. After a moment of contemplation, he continued.
“That individual may still be lurking in the Forbidden Forest; he clearly no longer possesses the strength he once had. Professors, I ask you to work together to seal off the Forbidden Forest and conduct a thorough search.”
Dumbledore’s plan met with no objections from the three Heads of House.
“And you? Aren’t you coming along?”
Snape suddenly interjected unexpectedly.
“I need to return to the school first to attend to some matters, and I will join this operation shortly to personally cast spells to locate our Dark Lord.”
“As for now… you can accompany them.” Dumbledore smiled in response.
“…”
Snape fell silent for a moment. “I need to return to the school with you… hmm, to keep an eye on those unruly students, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor cannot manage them alone.”
He seemed to be crafting an excuse to avoid the confrontation. If Harry Potter were present, he would undoubtedly scorn him for being a coward, but Ian understood his good uncle all too well.
“Alright, you, me, and Hagrid will take Mr. Prince back to the school. Remember to keep those disobedient little rascals in check; curiosity often leads to trouble.”
“Not everyone can possess the abilities of this child…” Dumbledore remarked, looking at Ian, who was slowly descending, his eyes filled with a deeper meaning. “I must say, Mr. Prince, your performance is quite unexpected; it can be seen as a delightful surprise.”
The surrounding charred trees and the scorched earth bore witness to the intensity of the battle, even causing Dumbledore’s expression to carry a hint of nostalgia.
At that moment, Hagrid spoke up.
“I’m not going back; I’m not afraid of You-Know-Who; I want to stay and assist the professors.” Hagrid shot a glance at Snape, as if to imply he viewed him as a coward.
“Tsk, tsk, what help can you provide the professors here? Are you planning to charge through the forest with your massive frame and directly disturb the one hiding there?” Snape retorted with a sharp edge of sarcasm.
“I won’t cause any trouble!” Hagrid’s face flushed a deep red. “I just want to find the two missing unicorns; I must bring them back.”
His concern for magical creatures was always heartfelt, and he would not hesitate to take risks for them, even for a moment. However, this touching sentiment only prompts Snape to continue with his sarcastic remarks.
“Ha! Your troll-like brain probably doesn’t even know how rare unicorn blood is; those two unicorns are clearly no longer alive.”
Snape was well aware that Voldemort’s survival depended on unicorn blood, and he doubted You-Know-Who would care for unicorns as Hagrid did, raising them and drawing blood from them daily.
“Perhaps… perhaps they are still alive, just waiting for my rescue. I need to make two stretchers; even if they are dead, I must bring them back for a proper burial.” Hagrid clearly brushed off Snape’s ridicule; as he spoke, he began searching for suitable materials nearby to construct a simple stretcher.
However, in the area scorched by Fiendfyre, there was nothing substantial left.
“Crack~”
Several seemingly intact trees snapped under his gentle pressure, revealing their charred interiors. After all, this was near the site where Ian had battled Voldemort.
Hagrid looked around in confusion.
“Mr. Prince, perhaps you can assist him?” Professor McGonagall could no longer bear to watch; she lowered her flying height to speak to Ian.
“Of course, no problem; Hagrid and I are friends.” Ian had already planned to step in; he quickly drew his wand and approached the decayed wood to perform a transfiguration.
With a surge of magic and the casting of a spell, the form and essence of the rotten wood began to change, swiftly transforming into two multifunctional stretchers with a sturdy metal frame.
To make it more comfortable for the potential occupants, Ian even added a layer of padding in the middle of the stretchers, and the exquisite stretchers were completed in the blink of an eye.
“Heavens! They are amazing!”
Hagrid gazed in awe at the stretchers Ian had conjured.
Above the stretchers, Professor McGonagall’s face radiated unreserved approval.
“Although I could already sense how much you had hidden in class from the transformation you applied to Fiendfyre, I must say this is truly an impressive feat.”
“I doubt there’s a student at Hogwarts who excels in the Protean Charm more than you.” Flitwick immediately gave Ian a thumbs up, looking at Professor McGonagall, who was flying beside him.
His eyes sparkled with a desire for House points, more fervent than that of the younger students. This was perhaps the competitive spirit of the academic elite; even after many years as Head of House, it had not diminished.
“This needs to go back to the castle… I will remember,” Professor McGonagall nodded helplessly. She was increasingly frustrated that a reckless student like Ian, who liked to hide his abilities, was a Ravenclaw.
After pondering for a moment, McGonagall continued, “You are very talented, Mr. Prince, but I hope you can respect your gifts. Your skills have already surpassed those of your peers, so what you need is more grounding.”
“At least in terms of transfiguration, it must be so; it is an extremely dangerous branch of magic, and far too many brilliant wizards have met irreparable ends due to their impatience.”
McGonagall’s tone is serious, fully demonstrating her concern for Ian. Over the years, she had witnessed many extraordinarily talented wizards fall into ruin due to excessive confidence.
“Of course. You taught us this on the first day of class.” Ian nodded humbly; he was aware that Professor McGonagall was worried about him secretly attempting to become an Animagus.
“If you wish to access some knowledge in advance, you can come to my office to find me.” McGonagall was pleased with Ian’s attitude and granted him the privilege to knock on her office door.
“Mm, thank you very much.” Ian immediately bowed slightly.
He actually had plans for his Animagus training, but it certainly would not be this year. After all, regardless of who was watching over him, it was safest to improve his transfiguration skills as much as possible.
Otherwise, turning into a half-animal, half-human form would be… quite terrifying. After all, that kind of failed magical transformation could very well be irreversible for life. Just looking at that noseless, hideous face and the significantly reduced intelligence made it clear how frightening it could be.
Just as Ian was preparing to walk towards the impatient Snape, Professor Sprout also lowered her flying height to come in front of him. This Hufflepuff professor was very pleased with Ian’s assistance to Hagrid.
“Why didn’t you come to us in Hufflepuff? I remember you were always very low-key in class, but I secretly saw you helping several Hufflepuff students during lessons.”
Professor Sprout echoed Professor McGonagall’s thoughts.
However, her praise made Ian’s gaze involuntarily shift, feeling a bit guilty.
“You actually saw that…” The young wizard was somewhat worried that Professor Sprout had noticed him sharing sensitive knowledge with Hufflepuff students in class.
The insights about how to grow mutated chomping cabbages were from the Restricted Section of the library.
This wasn’t particularly dangerous, was it?
Ian just wanted to help his classmates unlock epic achievements.
“That should still count as helping others, right?”
“We should go!”
Snape could no longer hold back from speaking to Ian. He felt that if Ian continued to bask in the praise, he might end up causing even more shocking incidents than today in the future.
“Yes, I think we should head back.” Dumbledore raised his hand to check the watch on his wrist, which was actually a piece crafted from a broken time-turner.
“Stay put and don’t run off,” Professor Flitwick reminded his own students, likely realizing that Ian was an unsettled fellow.
“We should also begin our work.” Professor McGonagall turned her broom in the direction of the deep Forbidden Forest and flew off first, her posture wild and determined.
Professors Sprout and Flitwick followed closely behind. Although they were about to confront one of the most dangerous dark wizards in history, the three Heads of House showed no signs of fear.
As the three Heads of House disappeared into the trees, Hagrid shouted that he wouldn’t wait for them. Shouldering the stretcher, Ian transformed and plunged directly into the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
The noise he made was indeed quite loud; in this regard, Snape was not being overly critical.
“Prince! I warned you not to cause me any more trouble! Look at what you’ve done! You actually had the audacity to provoke the Dark Lord!”
Snape immediately unleashed a tirade against Ian after the others had left. It was as if he had suppressed his anger for far too long, and now it all came pouring out onto Ian.
“What were you thinking, and why are you so eager to die? So desperate to create one shocking incident after another, to tell us, to tell everyone, that you intend to take the place of the last Dark Lord? I’ve never seen such an arrogant brat!” Snape roared angrily, his tone laced with a hint of fear.
“I don’t want to be the Dark Lord, Uncle.” Ian looked up at the black-clad figure before him, and his sincere words softened Snape’s expression just a bit.
At least this declaration was a step in the right direction.
“You should be thankful that the Dark Lord’s situation is precarious! Otherwise, I think I would have to collect your remains… no! Perhaps the Dark Lord wouldn’t even leave you a corpse!”
“He knows better than anyone how to devour children!” Snape seemed intent on frightening Ian with this ominous statement, and Ian immediately pretended to be frightened, feigning disbelief.
“The worst-case scenario did not happen; everything is fine. Snape, you don’t need to be too harsh on Mr. Prince; at least he showed the courage to protect others in a critical moment.” Dumbledore, leading the way toward the castle, spoke softly in defense of Ian.
“He could have simply notified us after driving that fellow away; look at what he did, chasing that man for miles through the Forbidden Forest!”
Snape still felt somewhat aggrieved.
“I was indeed a bit reckless.” Ian immediately admitted his fault; he knew how to smooth things over with Snape.
And so, Snape’s expression shifted from dark to slightly brighter.
“You must be confined; you will clean those foul-smelling toilets.” Of course, he still insisted on punishing Ian to teach him a lesson and ensure he remembered this incident.
“…”
Ian believed this was definitely not the kind of confinement Hogwarts should impose, but he also understood that Snape, as one of the Heads of House, had the right to enforce such punishment.
“Don’t use magic! I will keep an eye on you!” Snape continued to emphasize, breaking Ian’s train of thought. Dumbledore did not offer Ian any help in this regard.
Just as Ian was pondering whether he could spare a few Galleons to have his good roommate drink a Polyjuice Potion to take his place and endure Snape’s wrath instead, the castle came into view.
“Follow me!”
Snape looked up and saw students at the windows still using enchanted binoculars to peer toward the Forbidden Forest. He grabbed Ian and intended to take him on a detour through a secret passage back to Hogwarts.
“Snape, I need to borrow Mr. Prince for a moment to understand more about the situation in the Forbidden Forest.” Dumbledore suddenly raised his hand to interrupt Snape’s actions.
Snape’s expression changed several times.
“You are the Headmaster; you have the final say.”
He glanced deeply at Dumbledore and decisively released his grip on Ian.
“Mind your mouth; don’t let me hear you boasting about your so-called achievements at school.” Snape issued a stern warning to Ian.
He particularly emphasized the word “achievements,” dragging it out. After finishing, he flicked his sleeve and turned to walk toward the castle.
“What is he going to do?” Ian is somewhat confused by Snape’s actions.
“Who knows?” Dumbledore shrugged.
“I think we should go to the Headmaster’s office to discuss my troublesome student.” With that, Dumbledore led Ian into the castle and up to the Headmaster’s office on the eighth floor.
“Honeydukes.” Dumbledore recited the password to enter.
Ian knew that writing it down would be pointless, as the password changed far too frequently; sometimes, he felt Dumbledore had a touch of paranoia.
Following Dumbledore inside, they ascended the spiral staircase and pushed open the heavy wooden door. Ian did not see Fawkes the Phoenix, but sunlight streamed through the windows at just the right angle.
The sunlight filtered through the curtains like finely polished golden threads, warming the room as it danced with the movement of the fabric, casting shifting shadows on the walls.
In the spacious office, a pot of hot tea was steaming on the desk, filling the air with its fragrant aroma. Beside the teacup, there was a peculiar pastry that Ian could not recognize.
It looked somewhat like a pancake roll, but it was filled entirely with jam.
“Would you like a cup?”
Dumbledore poured himself a cup of tea and, without waiting for Ian’s response, poured another cup for him, drinking the seemingly scalding hot red tea in one go.
“I still prefer honey lemonade.”
Ian did not touch the tea on the table; it wasn’t that he distrusted Dumbledore, thinking he might have added Veritaserum to it, but he was worried that drinking the tea would keep him awake at night and lead him to sneak out for a midnight adventure.
Snape indeed looked furious.
Ian felt he needed to lay low for a few days— he was also a bit aggrieved; he had only gone out to pick some ingredients, and who would have thought he would stumble upon this poisonous ingredient named Voldemort?
“Then you can make some yourself.” Dumbledore gestured to a jar of honey not far away as he sat down, looking a bit weary.
“I can hold off; dinner is coming soon.”
Ian’s response made Dumbledore nod noncommittally. Just as Ian was curiously watching Dumbledore drink tea, having downed three cups without speaking, Dumbledore suddenly asked, “Is that stone with you?”
The question was quite abrupt, and Ian was momentarily stunned, having been pondering why Dumbledore had called him in.
“Of course, it’s still here.”
Ian had thought Dumbledore would discuss matters related to Voldemort or even take him on another memory tour, but instead, he was concerned about the Resurrection Stone that Grindelwald had given him.
His answer brought a hint of joy to Dumbledore’s expression.
“I need to borrow it for a while…” Dumbledore’s eyes suddenly sparkled in a somewhat unsettling way, and his hands trembled slightly. Realizing his own loss of composure, he quickly added, “This is for a specific purpose… I can’t tell you the details just yet.”
This explanation was not particularly convincing; it was clear to anyone that it was an excuse.
“Headmaster Dumbledore, that thing cannot resurrect anyone; I think we all know that.” Ian frowned slightly, not immediately pulling out the Resurrection Stone.
“I certainly know that.” Dumbledore’s eyes flickered continuously.
“Trust me, I won’t be like those fools who go astray; I just… have a plan, yes, a plan.” His voice carried a deeply meaningful tone.
It still had that inscrutable feeling.
However, Ian’s frown deepened further.
“Alright.”
Ian did not continue to say anything else, nor did he reveal any of his thoughts to Dumbledore. He directly took out the Resurrection Stone ring, which shimmered with a deep luster.
“It’s right here.” Ian pushed the Resurrection Stone ring towards Dumbledore.
“Thank you, thank you.” Dumbledore quickly raised both hands to cover the Resurrection Stone ring, his voice trembling as he thanked Ian. The expression that seemed to be suppressing some emotion made Ian instinctively stand up.
“Shall I take my leave now?” Seeing Dumbledore nodding like a chick pecking at rice, Ian quickly walked toward the door of the Headmaster’s office. Soon, he completely exited the area of the office, following the spiral staircase down.
“Didn’t even notice.”
Looking back at the enormous Gargoyle that had returned to its guarding position, Ian’s gaze flickered slightly. Without a second thought, he reached into his pouch and pulled out the Marauder’s Map.
There it was.
The Marauder’s Map displayed the little black dots representing wizards in the school, which naturally included the Headmaster’s office. The only little black dot in that room stood out prominently.
Aberforth Dumbledore.
(End of This Chapter)