It must be said.
Aside from being a bit sharp-tongued, unpleasant in speech and appearance, Professor Snape actually has many other virtues.
For example, leaving Ian a sufficient number of Golden Galleons.
Although purchasing various necessities today was quite expensive, the money bag was evidently influenced by the [Traceless Stretching Charm], and there remains a terrifying wealth of a total of one hundred and fifty Golden Galleons inside!
Don’t underestimate this number.
An average civil servant at the Ministry of Magic would probably need two months to earn this amount in salary, and that’s provided that they save every penny without spending any, keeping it all in Gringotts.
You should know.
The Weasley family couldn’t even afford seven Golden Galleons for a wand.
Imagine.
One hundred and fifty Golden Galleons counts as an enviable sum for both little wizards and adult wizards.
"Hiss, even if my parents did start off as sacrifices, they wouldn’t feel guilty to this extent." Ian increasingly feels that the situation is a bit simple; could his mom really be a clone of Lily Potter?
Don’t go there!
It’s only the ’90s!
Muggles and the Wizarding World both lack this technology!
"Terrifying upon closer thought! Terrifying upon closer thought!"
Ian felt uneasy inside.
But now, he is more focused on learning magic.
After moving everything into the tidy little wooden house provided by Snape, Ian eagerly pulls out his magic wand and the mandatory textbook at Hogwarts - "Standard Spell: Beginner".
At dusk.
The last ray of sunset has disappeared at the horizon.
The arrival of night.
Made Ian choose the simplest and most frequently used spell.
"Fluorescent Flickering!"
Ian, concentrating his thoughts as instructed in the textbook, synchronizes his mind with his wand, takes a deep breath, and gently recites the spell.
The next moment.
The tip of his wand glows brightly.
It vanishes quickly.
It was clearly an unsuccessful attempt at the spell, yet Ian didn’t feel discouraged at all; instead, his eyes lit up with excitement.
In terms of learning.
Most people are held back by various reasons, unable to progress or struggling to gauge their own progress. This is the main reason many find it difficult to keep learning a particular subject consistently.
However.
For Ian.
This is not a problem to worry about.
[Lighting Spell (Level 0): 3/50]
After another failed attempt, Ian’s panel information appears with a new skill; Ian has experienced similar processes more than once before.
"Seems my magical talent isn’t weak!"
Gazing at the panel information.
Ian is extremely excited.
Just one attempt yields three points of skill level; he only needs fewer than twenty tries to master this spell, reaching the most basic and simplest entry level.
When the learning of skills can be quantified.
It is like gods revealing their health bars.
"Fluorescent Flickering!"
"Fluorescent Flickering!"
"Fluorescent Flickering!"
Inside the spacious wooden house.
White light appears and vanishes.
Repeated attempts.
Show Ian’s passion for magic.
With anticipation for what kind of [Extraordinary Traits] magic might bear.
...
Hogwarts.
Headmaster’s Office.
As the most powerful wizard in the current magical realm, Dumbledore sits like an ordinary old man, dressed in colorful old pajamas, behind a solid wooden desk.
The desk lamp does not connect to any wires, yet emits a steady glow like an old oil lamp; a book is spread open at the center of the desk.
[Aurora Grindelwald]
Dumbledore’s gaze remains fixed on one of the many dazzling names in the book, with eyes both aged yet bright beneath the silver lenses.
"Tap~ Tap~ Tap~"
His fingers constantly tap the desk, seemingly engaged in deep thought. Staying up so late at night indicates worry in an elderly man’s heart.
"Rumble~"
The sound of gears turning resonates.
Dumbledore does not look up.
A hurried figure strides into the entrance of the Headmaster’s Office.
"Albus, you never told me before that Ian is a natural Legilimens!" Snape, full of rage, looks ready to confront.
Facing the resounding inquiry throughout the office, the characters in the portraits on the walls cover their ears, though a few portraits lean forward to watch the scene unfold.
"I believe that allowing you to discover certain things yourself makes them a surprise. Just like I haven’t told Mr. Prince about the inseparable connection between you and him."
Dumbledore finally lifts his head, his voice infinitely steady yet not lacking in warmth. Naturally, he gently flicks his hand, and the book on the desk automatically closes together.
[Book of Admission]
This is the book’s title.
Every student entering Hogwarts has their name written in it by the [Pen of Admission]; Hogwarts’ enrollment system has always relied on these two alchemy creations.
Of course.
The book placed on Dumbledore’s desk now is certainly not the original [Book of Admission], but perhaps a replica connected to it. After all, the [Book of Admission] and [Pen of Admission] are stored in a locked small tower that has never been visited by students.