The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 18: An Unexpected Turn of Events! It Came Even Faster Than Tomorrow!

After sunrise, Hogsmeade Village is both peaceful and lively.

Between the villages, wisps of smoke rose from chimneys, mingling with the morning mist. It was still early, but many shamans were already strolling the streets, drinking, joking, and enjoying themselves.

The cabin's windows are small, but they are fitted with transparent glass. Whenever sunlight pierces through the clouds and gently falls in, it casts dappled light and shadow inside the cabin.

A few vines occasionally twine around the window frame, and a few unnamed little flowers dot the green leaves, swaying gently in the wind and emitting a faint fragrance mixed with a hint of earth.

"Teeth cleaning! Facial cleanup! Let's welcome a brand new day!"

This wasn't Ian's second day in Hogsmeade; in fact, he had been there for several days now, and Snape, who had abandoned him there, hadn't come even once.

If Ian hadn't been far more self-reliant than his contemporaries, the difficulties a ten-year-old boy would face living in an unfamiliar place would likely be no less than the challenges of wilderness survival.

"Let's start a day of self-discipline with a sweet honey pie!"

Ian was already very familiar with the place. He first bought breakfast at Honey Duke's Dessert Shop, and then went around to Three Brooms Bar to buy a glass of lemonade.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, little Ian."

The bar owner, Rosmerta, is a woman who still retains her charm. The allure that comes with age can captivate many regular customers, but it clearly has no effect on Ian.

He prefers pretty, delicate young girls.

"I would be happy to meet you, Ms. Rosmerta, if you could sell me a Butterbeer." Ian's eyes remained fixed on the liquor cabinet behind Rosmerta.

He had always been interested in butterbeer, which everyone raved about, but unfortunately, he hadn't been able to get his wish despite several attempts over the past few days.

Galleons can sometimes lose their effectiveness.

"If you could grow to thirteen years old right now, I would be more than happy to buy you a drink." This was clearly another of Rosmerta's tactful rejections of Ian.

"Rules are rigid, but people are flexible. You can only make big money if you know how to be adaptable."

Ian still wouldn't give up.

"That's an interesting point of view. However, compared to the vague idea of ​​making a lot of money, I think the fines imposed by the Ministry of Magic are probably closer to me."

Rosmerta smiled and handed Ian a glass of lemonade.

Unsweetened lemonade made Ian's face contort with sourness.

He certainly has no one to blame but himself.

He can only blame himself for not being used to the tea here with milk and soup.

"Time to sleep! Time to sleep! This batch of lemons must have been treated with acid-increasing agents!"

Ian's eyes, which had been somewhat sleepy, suddenly became much clearer.

"Hahaha, I don't sell those lemons, I just squeezed two extra lemons for you!" Rosmerta laughed heartily, grabbing the money Ian had placed on the table.

This is to prevent Ian from returning the goods.

"..."

Ian was met with “full of malice” from the adult wizard.

What can he do?

Of course, all I could do was mutter to myself, "I earned two lemons," while stuffing two fluffy tooth mints into my mouth and quickly retreating from the "evil wizard's" lair.

He's become quite familiar with many shops in town these past few days, and he's integrated into the environment very quickly; most junior wizards don't have his level of adaptability.

to be frank.

Even now, Ian hasn't fully adapted to the lifestyle of the wizards here.

Prices are much higher than in the Muggle world.

If it weren't for the cold Galleons left behind by Snape, he might have ended up as a little boy selling wild vegetables on the streets. The kind of boy Ron would pity.

"Little Ian, would you like to play another game of wizard chess?"

Besides shops, there were also various vendors on both sides of the cobblestone street. A middle-aged wizard wearing a comical top hat waved enthusiastically to Ian.

He is a chess player who sets up a stall here to challenge others. His fees are not expensive; one silver shico is a game, and if you win, you can get five silver shico from him.

"You should go and cheat someone else. I'm still just a kid." Ian's gaze lingered on the moving chess pieces on the table for only a moment.

He refused very firmly.

The reason, of course, is that he has already lost several silver wolves to the player. This player understands psychology and always tries to make you feel like you only narrowly lost.

Whether it's a Wizard Chess novice like Ian or a seasoned veteran who has been playing for many years, in the end they can only obediently give up a Silver Sickle with a sigh of "What a pity".

In the very beginning.

Ian still thought he might be some kind of unparalleled wizard chess genius, but ever since he saw an international wizard chess contestant give up a silver sieve with a sigh of "what a pity," he understood the treacherous money-making tactics used by chess players and never tried to challenge them again.

"Honestly, you're very talented. With more practice, you might just win."

The chess player at the stall spoke in a very serious tone.

Ian pretended not to hear.

Running away from gambling and drugs is one of the most unforgivable forms of gambling.

"Flames are raging!"

The sound of a spell rang out.

A wisp of flame shot out from the tip of the elderflower wand.

Just as Ian had planned.

Back to the cabin.

He then began a day of self-discipline.

He has already learned four spells from "Standard Spells: Beginner": Illumination Spell, Levitation Spell, Lockpicking Spell, and Repair Spell, all of which have reached the beginner level one.

He is currently practicing his fifth spell, which is one of the few practical spells in the first-year textbook that can produce some offensive effect.

Arson curse.

It is a spell that can summon a flamethrower, which can be used to ignite things. Most of the time, it is just used as a substitute for a Muggle's lighter or flamethrower.

but.

If the flames released by the spell were to hit a person, they would inevitably cause burns. This is one of the few attack methods available to first-year wizards.

"Flames are raging!"

"Flames are raging!"

"Flames are raging!"

The firelight flickered on and off.

Ian's proficiency level on his personal panel is also constantly increasing.

[Arson Curse (Level 1): 1/100]

When Ian's skills on his personal panel reached level one, a familiar feeling of fatigue enveloped him, and he knew he should temporarily stop his studies for the day.

Clean up the house.

Wash the clothes.

There's actually quite a bit to do. This kind of life without a television, while lacking some of the fun that technology brings, has its own unique sense of fulfillment.

As night fell.

Ian went to bed earlier than usual. The reason was simple: today was that special day, the day he would enter a dreamlike, fantastical world in his sleep.

"We need to see if Ariana is back yet."

As his consciousness crossed a certain boundary in his drowsy state, stepping into the world of the dead, completely isolated from the mortal world, Ian slowly opened his eyes on the other side of the mortal world.

"Um?"

The scene before my eyes gradually became clear.

however.

Ian didn't see the dreamlike meadows and sky, nor the familiar lush greenery and welcoming birds; he felt as if he had arrived in a completely unfamiliar place.

A palace.

Magnificent and splendid.

After Ian appeared.

Countless pieces of furniture seemed to come alive, growing hands and legs and beginning to flee.

"A human! A human!"

"How terrifying!"

"Whoa!! Help!"

Amidst the utter chaos and noise.

Only one golden bench remained unchanged.

"This is really...surprising."

The witch sat upright on it.

He looked up at the visitor.