bdsm-fiction Chapter 190, Page 189: The Frog Prince, the Priest's Call
Chapter 190, Page 189: The Frog Prince, the Priest's Call
Chapter 190, Page 189: The Frog Prince, the Priest's Call
After leaving the Slytherin common room, Ian did not choose to join the class midway. He checked the time, first brewed some potions in the Room of Requirement, and then went straight to the Great Hall.
Lunchtime arrived quickly.
Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows into the Great Hall of Hogwarts, its golden rays dancing on the long tables and reflecting off the silver cutlery, draping this ancient and solemn place in a warm golden veil.
Although the hot season is not yet over, thanks to the excellent and enthusiastic alchemy professor Nick Flamel, Hogwarts has also installed its own "air conditioning" system.
Nobody knows where the energy comes from.
Everyone realized that once they were inside Hogwarts Castle, they no longer had to sweat profusely, and could enjoy the coolness of autumn and winter even in the hot summer.
This is indeed a situation that everyone is happy to see. At least the students at Hogwarts no longer have almost no appetite when eating, unlike in the hot summers of the past.
of course.
Having witnessed the many innovations of the house-elves at breakfast, the young wizards still couldn't forget them at lunchtime, so many of them were quite cautious when choosing food.
House-elves are clearly determined to go all the way down the path of innovation.
Although the lunch idea was a bit odd, the taste was definitely much better than breakfast. As Ian sat down, he couldn't help but wonder if some professor had given feedback to the kitchen—perhaps even through physical means, since the house-elves' improvement speed was a bit too fast.
"This pineapple pizza is good."
Ian sat at the long table in Ravenclaw, leisurely enjoying his lunch. William was tossing cherry dumplings with salad dressing, while Michael was munching on a duck-flavored chicken leg.
The house-elves were clearly exploring in all directions. Surprisingly, the two roommates gave a positive review to food whose very composition seemed horrible.
"Who took that diary?"
Ian ate while deep in thought, his gaze seemingly casually sweeping across the entire auditorium, but in reality, he had already subtly begun using his [Mind Perception] ability.
Through Ian's training and research, he now has complete control over this extraordinary trait, allowing him to perceive the emotional fluctuations and superficial thoughts of those around him without touching their minds.
Although he cannot delve into specific thoughts without using Legilimency magic, it is enough for him to detect unusual emotional changes or hidden intentions.
The first thing to check, of course, is their own long table. Although Malfoy's diary was lost in the Slytherin common room, it's possible that more than just Slytherin students took it. While most people can't come and go as freely as Ian, there are many ways to enter the common rooms of other houses.
On the Ravenclaw table.
The students had a lively discussion about a plate of vegetable salad that could change color.
"Look, it has turned from green to purple!" a student exclaimed.
"This means its nutritional composition is changing," another student pushed up his thick glasses, clearly indicating he was a strong individual. "Obviously, the house-elves have added chameleon grass extract!"
He actually figured out the exact process of making this salad.
"Yes, it really is chameleon grass. It can adjust itself according to the nutrients we lack. It's a truly ingenious food design!" This was said by a student from Ravenclaw.
Unlike the young wizards from other schools who would only marvel at the wonders of this food, they were completely different.
On the long table in Gryffindor.
Their comments on the color-changing salad were only two: "Oh my god!" and "Holy crap!", which clearly indicates that there are several Chinese students in this college.
"I don't like eating grass, but..."
Ron stared blankly at a plate of spaghetti that was wriggling on its own, looking utterly dejected.
"Is this thing I got really edible?"
Ron was in a bad mood all day because he had lost his pet. He poked at the plate of noodles, and the noodles suddenly curled up like a snake and wrapped around his fork.
Neville couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Hermione, however, gave a very serious explanation.
"This must be a magical version of 'live noodles,' I feel it has a chewier texture than regular noodles." She was clearly giving a rather unofficial explanation based on her own feelings.
Miss Beaver's desire to perform was just as strong as Ian had previously assessed.
It stems from low self-esteem and sensitivity.
He desperately wanted to prove that he was still excellent. However, Ron didn't care about that. While eating his noodles, he became aggrieved again, put down his utensils, and spoke in a resolute tone.
"Scabbers must have been stolen by Harry Potter!" Ron couldn't forget his pet mouse, but he didn't understand why the guy would make such a judgment.
"Even though my family says that boy is a hero, a great person, he's a Slytherin, and I feel there must be a terrifying side to him!"
He was supposed to be Harry Potter's loyal friend, but because he missed his first meeting with Harry Potter, he never had any interaction with him, and unexpectedly developed such a strong prejudice against Harry Potter.
Perhaps it's also related to the fact that Harry Potter went to the house he disliked the most.
This definitely qualifies as a butterfly effect. Now, Malfoy's attitude towards Harry Potter is very good, while Ron has become the one who "turned love into hate."
"You can't judge a person as good or bad just because of the house they attend. There are certainly a lot of annoying people in Slytherin, but that doesn't mean it's a bad house."
Hermione frowned, quite resistant to Ron's idea of "judging people by their house." After all, her "mentor" often hung out with some girls from Slytherin, and she certainly didn't want to believe that everyone in Slytherin was a bad person. Wouldn't that mean that her "mentor" was also a bad person?
"You've never been in contact with the wizarding world before. You don't know Hogwarts, you don't know Slytherin." Ron was still indignant, his words filled with disgust for Slytherin.
"Actually, I also think that you can't judge a person so simply."
Neville ate his food while choosing to side with Hermione, an attitude that made Ron even more frustrated. He felt he had to tell the two of them about his discovery.
"Last night, my two older brothers took me out for a nighttime walk to do experiments. I was walking a little slowly and got lost. I saw Harry Potter chanting extremely strange spells in an abandoned classroom."
"The magic being practiced in secret is definitely not the kind of magic that can be seen by others. It must be dark magic. I saw blood, so it must be some kind of extremely evil and terrifying ritual."
"He must have used my poor Scabbers as a sacrifice!" Ron recounted his experience with indignation, leaving Hermione and Neville in disbelief.
Ian also overheard the conversation.
"Was it written in blood by Harry?"
Ian narrowed his eyes slightly, but he wasn't too surprised. After discovering Harry's unusual behavior and going to the Chamber of Secrets, he had similar guesses about what happened last night.
but.
The person who pulled those tricks definitely wasn't the real Harry Potter... As for the remnant soul in Harry's forehead scar, Ian didn't think that was his primary concern right now.
What he's looking for is Malfoy's lost diary. Tom, who betrayed Voldemort and allowed him to witness Harry's transformation, is the young wizard's current target of interest.
And on this point.
Finding nothing unusual at the Gryffindor table, Ian's gaze then turned to the Hufflepuff table, where the badger cubs were marveling at the rainbow-colored broth from their stew.
When the bubbles burst, they release a faint fruity aroma.
This is quite an innovation, somewhat like a combination of pumpkin juice and lemon pie, and many upperclassmen in Hufflepuff are discussing when to ask the house-elves for the recipe.
There were no suspicious individuals among them.
The Slytherin students maintained their usual arrogance and indifference, whispering among themselves, occasionally glancing around with haughty and disdainful looks.
Ian's ability to perceive thoughts glides through the emotions of these people, trying to catch any trace of unease or tension. However, he finds nothing unusual.
Malfoy didn't come to the Great Hall, perhaps because he didn't have an appetite. Ian thought he would probably feel the same way if he were in Malfoy's shoes, and he didn't find anything strange about it.
"What are you eating?"
Ian carried the plate to the Slytherin table. Daphne, who was sitting next to Aurora, immediately and reflexively offered her seat as soon as Ian stood up from the Ravenclaw table.
The little girl ran ten meters and went straight to the end of the long table to squeeze in with the others.
"Deep-sea glowfish?"
Aurora's tone was somewhat uncertain. On her plate was a glowing fish, which, remarkably, was a grilled fish that still glowed even after being cooked.
"I think it looks like a nuclear-radiated fish."
Ian poked at the glowing grilled fish on Aurora's plate twice. He noticed that after Aurora took a bite of the fish, he could vaguely see the translucent green light emanating from the fish being chewed in her mouth emanating from her cheeks.
I wonder if my stomach will feel this strange after I eat it.
"You're like an owl, your eyes darting around, what are you looking for?" Aurora, clearly also watching Ian, asked him with some confusion.
"I'm looking for my lost brother, Tom."
Ian's answer still left the German girl feeling bewildered.
but.
She did not make a judgment.
"So, did you find it?" Aurora asked casually, her platinum blonde hair gleaming softly in the sunlight, her movements as she ate were unhurried and elegant.
"We'll find him eventually. Maybe Tom is playing hide-and-seek with me." Ian glanced at the little girl to his left. This pretty girl, who looked a bit eccentric, was quite emotional.
"Miss Parkinson, you look terrified." Ian knew the girl's name, Pansy Parkinson, a pure-blood descendant who should have been sharp-tongued and arrogant.
However, at this moment, the little witch seemed somewhat restrained even when eating.
"I was at least much better than Daphne." Pansy Parkinson was rather taciturn, but her voice was clear and crisp. Compared to Daphne, she was indeed a courageous Slytherin.
However, compared to his outward composure...
Miss Parkinson's growing fear showed that she was just like most Slytherin students in front of Ian. This situation was perhaps largely due to Miss Daphne's persistent propaganda, whose storybook from Grindelwald continued to fabricate sins that did not belong to Ian.
Of course, some sins are not fabricated.
"Eat less of this sweet stuff, or you'll grow up ugly." Ian saw Parkinson had piled up a lot of pudding in front of him, and immediately snatched two of the untouched puddings from him. These were singing puddings. Every time a spoonful was scooped out, they would play a pleasant tune.
"..."
Parkinson didn't dare eat the rest of the pudding.
She felt that Ian's words might be a threat to her, or that this little devil liked to eat pudding, and that anyone who dared to steal the pudding would be cruelly disfigured by this little devil.
have to say.
This little witch, who just started school this year, certainly has a rich imagination. Little did she know that Ian was just expressing his feelings, since in his memory, this girl was completely different when she was a child and when she grew up.
It's said that several actors were replaced.
"What are you daydreaming about again?" Aurora, sitting next to Ian, tapped his plate lightly with her fork, interrupting his thoughts. Her voice carried a hint of teasing.
"Nothing much, I just thought the pudding tasted pretty good today." Ian casually brushed it off, as he didn't actually remember many details of the Harry Potter story very clearly.
Fortunately, things are already deviating from the expected path, so remembering the details too clearly might actually be a drawback, potentially leading to some unnecessary ingrained thinking biases.
You're lying.
Aurora continued eating her grilled fish, offering her assessment as before. Perhaps this Germanic girl hadn't yet mastered Legilimency, but she had a precise grasp of Ian's words and actions.
"That's not the point. The point is I still need to find Tom." Ian chuckled and continued looking around. Throughout the entire auditorium, not only were everyone's every move observed by Ian, but their thoughts and emotions were also silently perceived. Professor McGonagall, sitting in the faculty section, glanced at Ian several times.
However, this usually strict professor didn't say anything... Perhaps Dumbledore had given instructions before leaving, or perhaps Professor McGonagall and Professor Nicolas Flamel realized the potential threat to the school after their conversation. Perhaps, compared to being concerned about Ian's behavior, she was more concerned about her pregnancy.
"Have all the house-elves gone mad?"
The older catgirl shook her head and sighed as she looked at a jigsaw puzzle sandwich that kept changing positions, but she couldn't resist taking a bite. To her surprise, she revealed a slightly surprised and satisfied expression.
"Those disgusting creatures should be kicked out of Hogwarts."
Professor Snape, the good uncle, still had the same expressionless face, but he was clearly in a bad mood, perhaps because of the pumpkin juice in front of him that was constantly emitting black smoke.
The smoke gave his face a texture reminiscent of cured meat.
Ian was using what he considered Legilimency "recklessly." He wanted to yell at Ian, but he also felt that Ian would definitely retaliate and make him lose face in front of so many students.
After weighing the options...
Snape had no choice but to pretend he hadn't noticed.
This made him feel even worse.
"Six years, no, a little over five years, just a little over five years." Uncle Good was calculating the time it would take to send Ian away, and for the first time he felt an overwhelming desire for time to pass quickly.
Lunch is over.
Ian didn't make any useful discoveries.
This surprised the young wizard.
"Hordeals can't just grow legs and run away, can they?" He felt he should learn more about Hordeals, so during his lunch break, he took out the book Aurora had given him, "Demystifying Advanced Black Magic," and started reading it again.
Time really flies when you're studying.
The afternoon sun shone through the windows of Hogwarts' towering towers into the corridor. In the Potions classroom, Ian, not daring to be late, arrived a step later than Aurora.
Uncle's first lesson of the year.
Ian felt he still had to give his good uncle some face.
"Lirim, what are you doing in the second-year classroom!" Ian was about to sit next to Aurora when he saw a figure that shouldn't be in the classroom.
Do you know what privilege is?
Ririm didn't look up.
He gave a calm reply.
What was most strange was that the second-year students around him didn't seem to be puzzled by his appearance, nor did they make any comments or criticisms. They even seemed not to have heard his conversation with Ian.
"Would Snape agree?"
The young wizard was somewhat suspicious.
"He can't refuse, just like most people here." Ririm chuckled and gave a cryptic reply, finally looking up at Ian.
"You didn't come to the auditorium for lunch?" Ian hadn't seen Ririm at noon, and he suspected that the mysterious brat from the Ollivander family was also a prime suspect in stealing the notebook.
Last night, that little brat was also in front of that blood-written message.
"Do you think the food in the auditorium is edible?"
Lirim was reading when he looked up and asked the young wizard a question. Clearly, this new student was resistant to the house-elves' innovations.
"Actually, it tastes pretty good."
Ian truly believed this.
however.
"Heh, you'll find out tonight." Ririm's gloating expression gave the little wizard a bad feeling, and he subconsciously touched his stomach.
"Will it cause diarrhea?"
Ian felt that he might have been a little careless at noon.
He tried many innovative dishes.
"Have you ever seen a wriggling, rainbow-like 'Olige'? I don't think you have, but you'll see tonight. Everyone should pray that Hogwarts' sewers are sturdy enough."
Ririm's cheerful reply confirmed Ian's suspicions.
"A prophecy?"
Ian has his own private toilet, so he doesn't need to worry about the latrine exploding. He's more curious about why Ririm is so sure of this.
"It's life experience."
Lirim chuckled softly and looked down at the book again—he loved reading like most Ravenclaws, but mostly he read random novels.
For example, this book with the title "Muggle Princess and Seven Little Elves" printed on the cover.
The name sounds like a fairy tale.
This piqued Ian's curiosity, as he had become interested in fairy tales due to his own experiences.
"Is this book good?"
He took the initiative to ask Ririm.
"Um."
Lirim didn't look up, but nodded in response. "Although the story of the Muggle princess abandoning the seven goblins who took care of her and choosing to live with a giant in the end is regrettable, it's understandable. After all, how can goblins compare to giants? If I were a princess, I would also choose a big giant."
He appears to be driving.
But Ian couldn't find any evidence.
"..."
These bizarre fairy tales really challenged the little wizard's worldview.
Rirem continued speaking.
"If you also like this kind of book, I recommend you read Snow White. That's the kind of fairy tale that wizards should read. The seven dark-skinned dwarfs in it are actually no less powerful than giants."
"Of course, the prince's fascination with a corpse is truly astonishing." It's hard to imagine what mental state an eleven-year-old wizard would be in to comment on such a book with such relish.
"??????" Ian couldn't tell for a moment whether this was the truth of the fairy tale or just an artistic embellishment by later generations for the sake of sensationalism.
He still remembered that Snow White was related to his cheap senior sister.
Thinking hard.
"dislike?"
Ririm looked up and saw Ian's strange expression. He grinned even more. "If you don't like this style, I have the story of the Frog Prince here."
Perhaps this is yet another Cthulhu-esque version of a story, even more so than dark fairy tales.
Ian didn't want Ririm to ruin his childhood.
and so.
"The Frog Prince is not bad. I have always liked the Frog Prince. After all, frogs are too small, but the Frog Prince is different. You may not be able to eat one frog, but if you kiss the Frog Prince and make him a real prince, then you might be able to eat him for several weeks."
He decided to destroy his own childhood first, so that his evil classmate Rirem would have no way to get to him.
have to say.
The little wizard made a good choice.
Lirem was stunned by his speech.
"??????"
The blond boy, who had just been making a mocking face, now looked even more bewildered than Ian had been.
"I've never lost when it comes to being unorthodox."
Ian patted his slightly messy hair, quite satisfied, and walked back to Aurora's side. After tidying up his books, he prepared to welcome his first class of the new semester.
"I heard that frogs lay 500 to 2000 eggs at a time. Why not let the frog prince have more children? That way you'd have an endless supply of frog princes to eat!"
At this moment, Aurora suddenly asked a question. It seemed that she had overheard Ian and Ririm's conversation and started thinking about some questions that normal people would never think of.
「!?」
Perhaps this is a case of one thing subduing another.
Ian was truly stunned by the German girl's wild imagination.
"Is it possible that male frogs don't have babies?" He didn't even know how to respond, so he could only steer the conversation toward the limitations of male frogs.
however.
"I know a kind of magic that can turn a person into a hermaphrodite," Aurora replied seriously, even suggesting that she should copy the magic spell for Ian.
"!!??"
What else could Ian say?
He could only choose to remain silent.
She accepted that her language system had failed. Fortunately, before Aurora could unleash any more of her wildly imaginative ideas, Snape stormed into the classroom.
This classroom was colder and more gloomy than the rest of the castle, with a faint chill in the air, probably because Nicolas Flamel's "whole castle air conditioning" was over-cooling here.
The purpose was probably to better preserve those potion ingredients—Ian had only glanced at them a few times before, and Uncle Good must have spent the whole summer busy replenishing the medicine cabinet in this classroom.
Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!
The medicine cabinet was not only protected by several restrictive spells, but the locks used were also replaced with the highest level of protection available on the market—though they probably wouldn't last long against Ian's [Unlocking Spell].
"Today, we're going to concoct a very, very ordinary potion, one that I consider utterly worthless: an antidote." Snape perhaps sensed what the young wizard was thinking. He glanced at Ian with a hint of unease and worry before slowly and methodically beginning his lesson at the front of the class.
"This pesticide is used to kill or remove plants and is not for drinking. In all my years, I have never seen a fool drink pesticide."
"Of course, perhaps some fools among you want to show me the world." Snape began with his usual sarcastic remark, a level of attack that wasn't particularly strong for second-year students.
"If it has no value, why would we bother brewing it?" Ian was the only one who dared to raise his hand to ask a question; he didn't actually know much about this kind of farming potion.
This was probably because he didn't own any land. The only plants he cultivated only needed to be watered periodically with the black-robed skeleton's bathwater.
"Why are there so many 'whys'?"
Snape gave Ian a warning look to stop causing trouble, but he still answered Ian's question. "The headmaster of Hufflepuff needs quite a few. Obviously, there's more than one thief in our school who steals potion ingredients, and another who likes to steal the plants that Professor Sprout cultivates. Ha, I wouldn't be surprised if anyone later judges Hogwarts as a den of thieves."
This is clearly a pointed remark.
To criticize indirectly.
Ian didn't argue back.
However, he still whispered something to Aurora beside him.
"I gave him money, and he even cursed at me. Can you prove that to me?" After saying this, the little wizard emphasized it again to prove his innocence.
"I didn't steal the plants Professor Sprout was growing." He certainly hadn't done anything like that; he suspected that the little witch from Hufflepuff who grew mutated cabbages was imitating him.
however.
"I know."
Aurora's calm answer was remarkably straightforward.
Just as Ian was about to thank his good friend for his trust...
"I took it."
The German girl's frankness, spoken in a low voice, stunned the young wizard once again—the imitator was this guy, and he had even surpassed his master by directly sourcing first-hand raw materials.
"I've been paying, and I've been paying, double the amount, and Professor Sprout has never refused," Aurora added.
Did she agree?
Ian sensed a familiar presence.
She did not refuse.
The German girl repeated what she had just said.
it is more than words.
"Wow, you're almost done learning!" Ian couldn't help but gasp, giving his good friend a thumbs up. Aurora was indeed learning from him very quickly.
They've even picked up the habit of telling the truth. While the two young wizards were whispering amongst themselves, Snape, who had become accustomed to the situation and had even updated his retina to selectively ignore the two, had finished teaching everyone the recipe and was now reminding them of the precautions for brewing.
I quickly covered the key points.
He immediately put down the textbook and started having the students practice.
"If you're careless when adding ingredients, your final product will only be mediocre. Concentration and focus are the most important things for brewing a good potion."
"You have forty minutes. Anyone who fails will have to clean toilets tonight." He habitually threatened everyone, and many people immediately perked up after hearing his words.
Nobody wants to clean toilets.
Especially Ririm.
This guy straightened his back and threw away the storybook in his hand. Ian had been paying attention to Ririm, and he was surprised that Snape didn't seem to care about this freshman who shouldn't be in the second-year class. He hadn't even bothered to pay attention to the guy reading a novel during the previous lectures.
Everyone is taking action.
Ian and Aurora are the same.
The young wizard noticed that while the students were brewing, Snape lingered for a moment in front of Ririm's cauldron, but still didn't kick the intruder out of the classroom.
"This is truly unbelievable!"
Ian sensed something strange more and more. He was starting to understand why others were speculating about his background, just as he was now starting to doubt Ririm's origins.
"Gurgle gurgle~"
Ian and Aurora proceeded with the potion-making process methodically.
When the herbal remedy is first brewed, it has a sweet, fruity smell. However, as it is brewed and more ingredients are added, the smell begins to become pungent and foul.
It's the kind of smell that you can take a sniff of.
It was a stench that made people want to vomit. Many people covered their mouths and noses, gagging incessantly. Aurora simply cast a bubbling spell on herself.
Lirim is the one who can cook it the fastest.
He raised his hand.
Snape immediately went over.
"Excellent potion quality." The Potions professor, who rarely praised others, looked at Ririm with some surprise, and then brought out a flowerpot overgrown with weeds.
He simply dripped a drop of Lirim's potion into the flowerpot, and within seconds, the weeds on the flowerpot turned yellow and withered almost visibly.
Then.
They withered quickly again, turning into ashes in the flowerpot. Without a doubt, Ririm's herb-killing potion was a great success, the kind of potion master would have to admire.
"I think I've finally met a student who isn't so stupid." This was definitely a compliment from Snape, who then took Rirem's work to the podium as an example.
Faced with the amazement and thumbs-up from his classmates, Ririm smiled and gladly accepted.
"This guy is actually pretty good."
Ian is also cooking it.
However, his expression was much more relaxed than most of his classmates.
It's not that they have strong endurance.
Instead, he made some subtle adjustments. Uncle Good wandered over to Ian like a ghost, frowning as he stared at the potion simmering in Ian's crucible.
"What are you doing?"
He asked the question with some displeasure.
"Of course, it's herbicide."
Ian gave an honest answer.
"I don't smell the stench that a cure-all should have." Snape's face was stern, his expression growing increasingly serious, his gaze fixed on the potion Ian was brewing.
"I made some minor modifications; the original taste was really strong." Ian wasn't trying to show off; he just didn't want to spend the whole afternoon wearing a robe tainted with the stench.
"I remember warning you last semester not to use your damn modifications in my class," Snape said, immediately turning an angry look to Ian.
"Do you think I wouldn't know how unbearable this stench is? Do you think there are so many potions masters in the world more skilled than you who wouldn't know how to eliminate the smell of this potion?"
"You clever brat... This smell was intentional on the part of the developers, to prevent some unlucky souls from accidentally ingesting the herbicide!"
He explained why the herbal medicine smelled so foul.
"Forehead……"
Ian could certainly guess this, but he actually had other ways to prevent accidental ingestion. However, his good Uncle Snape obviously didn't give him a chance or idea to explain.
"If I didn't tell you this, were you planning to smugly add some pineapple flavor to it?" He didn't see through Ian's thoughts.
They were just mocking in their own way, as always.
Upon hearing this...
Ian hasn't reacted yet.
Riem, who had started reading again, suddenly looked up, glanced at Snape several times with a speechless expression, and then lowered his head again after a heavy sigh.
"I see."
The whispered murmur went unheard.
"A failed work! No one would dare buy a herbicide like this!" Snape wasn't targeting Ian, but he felt that Ian sometimes showed too much disrespect for the achievements of his predecessors.
In this regard.
Ian has not yet refuted this.
Lirim, who was not far away, had already raised his hand.
"If we consider this as a kind of poison, it might have a good market. It's cheap to make, highly toxic, and even undetectable by conventional detection methods."
The blond boy actually came up with a different approach.
"You really are a genius!"
Ian looked at the blond boy with some disbelief. He hadn't expected that there was someone in the world who shared his thoughts so well, and that he had made this attempt for similar research purposes.
after all.
This herbicide has similar characteristics to paraquat.
"Mr. Ollivander, this is not the time for you to offer advice." Snape was visibly taken aback upon hearing this, but quickly followed up with a cold snort with a gloomy face.
"I don't think there's any wizard so stupid that they wouldn't notice this." His eyes flickered slightly, but his tone remained sarcastic.
"..."
Ririm's expression was... indescribable, a mixture of embarrassment and speechlessness.
"Not necessarily. Even some very powerful wizards can be tricked sometimes." He seemed to be trying to make the kind of defense that Ian should have been making.
"Then I suggest that wizard get his head fixed, and, well, maybe he should get a new pair of eyes." Snape judged Ririm's hypothetical situation without even thinking.
His tone remained sarcastic.
“…………”
Rireum gave Snape a deep look, sat back down, and said nothing more. He turned the book he was holding upside down, looking somewhat withdrawn.
"Rework!"
Snape ignored Ririm and turned to Ian, giving him a stern order. What could the young wizard do? Faced with such tyranny, he could only put his improved version of the antidote potion into a bottle and put it away, then went to get the ingredients again—when he returned, he found Ririm staring intently at the potion he had placed on the table.
Ian recognized that look in his eyes.
So the wary little wizard immediately put his work into his purse and hid it close to his body. Seeing this, Riem sighed and withdrew his gaze.
"Damn it, they've fueled the fire."
He muttered a curse under his breath.
The following potions class went uneventfully.
Ian is very fast.
Having successfully brewed the second batch of weed-removing potion within the allotted time, Ian avoided potentially repeating his fate as a toilet cleaner. After class, he quickly brewed some medicine to treat his diarrhea.
"Hopefully, Ririm is just trying to scare people."
Ian gave Aurora a bottle, drank one himself, and after glancing at the clock in the corridor, he headed towards the top of the North Tower, the destination for his last class of the day.
The divination class is held here.
Under normal circumstances.
First and second-year wizards only need to take astronomy classes, but thanks to Professor Lockhart's advice, second-year students will take a trial divination class once a month starting this year.
Can also understand.
After all, he was a prophet.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would naturally be concerned about this as well. The young wizards didn't complain much, since this lesson was an experiential class that came at the cost of reducing one Defense Against the Dark Arts class session. The students weren't given extra lessons and were able to experience something new, so how could they not be satisfied?
Interestingly, Ian didn't see Ririm during this class, as if Ririm just wanted to attend a second-year potions class.
"I think your grandfather also wants to slack off, taking one less class each month while still getting the same salary." Ian felt he had seen through Grindelwald's true intentions.
Aurora neither confirmed nor denied this.
The two of them went together to the North Tower where the Divination class was held. They waited on a platform where Sybil Trelawney had lived since she entered Hogwarts.
There are no stairs nearby.
Because the door to the divination class was on the ceiling of the platform. Many young wizards, eagerly anticipating the new course, looked around, trying to find the door to enter.
"Splash~"
A ladder hung down from the ceiling. Ian climbed up first, followed closely by Aurora, and then the other young wizards who had come to their senses immediately took over.
The stairs were wobbly due to their age, and each step made a slight creaking sound, as if reminding visitors how unreliable this place was.
These are all omens.
Omens in the divination sense.
But it seems no one noticed, including Aurora, the natural prophet.
Ian entered the classroom.
The first thing he smelled was a strong incense aroma, a herbal scent mixed with sandalwood that instantly transported him to the shrine of an ancient diviner. This was a seemingly strange classroom, more like a fusion of a teahouse and a residence than a teaching room.
The classroom was dimly lit and softly lit. The deep red curtains almost completely covered the windows, with only a few faint rays of light filtering through the gaps in the curtains, creating shimmering halos that added a dreamlike atmosphere to the room and gave it a somewhat mysterious feel.
of course.
This is other people's opinion.
In Ian's eyes.
He felt that such places were more like sinful places hidden in the streets and alleys, turning on pink lights at night to attract many lost souls.
"Is this the divination classroom?"
"I feel like I can already smell destiny! What a mysterious place!"
"I must study this course diligently. If I can figure out the winning numbers for the Muggle World Lottery, I can make my parents rich again!"
……
The young wizards were chattering away.
In the center of the classroom were many round, low tables, each with a crystal ball on it. Many young wizards crowded around, wanting to reach out and touch it, but were too shy to do so.
Just at this time.
"Oh, another group of little wizards struggling with fate." A dazed and low voice suddenly rang out, and a tall, thin woman stepped out from behind the curtain.
"It's such a wonderful feeling to see you all in this tangible world." She wore glasses, and her hair was a dark brown that looked like it hadn't been styled much, with a few strands of dry gray mixed in, like withered grass blown by the wind draped over her shoulders, giving her a somewhat unkempt look.
Living in a perpetually dark environment has given the professor an unhealthy pallor of skin; her face is thin, and her high cheekbones suggest malnutrition.
"Let me see, let me see, see your future, see your...end." Professor Sybil Trelawney's eyes swept over the young wizards present.
Her eyes were covered by a pair of huge, round glasses with lenses as thick as the bottom of a wine bottle and gold frames with intricate star patterns carved along the edges.
"Oh no, not good."
"You too, be careful of the people around you."
"Children, listen closely, a dark shadow is creeping down the corridors of Hogwarts..." Professor Sybil Trelawney first frightened a few young wizards with her mystical pronouncements.
Then.
Her gaze settled on Ian.
"what?"
Professor Sybil Trelawney was taken aback at first, and then she suddenly convulsed as if she had an epileptic seizure, startling everyone who was still immersed in the atmosphere of the prophecy.
"What's wrong with this professor?"
"Is he having a relapse?"
"Why is she shaking like my mom when she's secretly playing with toys in her dorm room?"
……
Sybil Trelawney flailed her arms wildly in the air, making incoherent noises. The young wizards stared at her in horror, wondering what was happening.
"Is this the feeling coming?"
Ian was somewhat surprised. He glanced at Aurora, who seemed to be deep in thought, and then at the professor, who had been convulsing for quite some time. He seemed to remember that the professor had this special ability.
really.
As Sybil Trelawney's trembling ceased, her entire demeanor transformed instantly. Her previously dazed gaze became exceptionally clear and radiant.
"Please, save us, save us..."
Her voice was hoarse and filled with despair.
My Lord.
She reached out her hand to Ian, her voice trembling with tears.
(End of this chapter)