He came.
And then he left.
With a flick of his sleeve.
All that was left behind was Ian, who couldn’t fulfill his desire to learn fresh magic, a bag of inexplicably retrieved new gold coins, and a tidy living room that had been cleaned up.
"Suppress your potential curiosity about the Dark Arts, don’t let me find out you’re snooping around the village for things you shouldn’t be, and if I catch you trying to find someone to learn the Dark Arts, you’re finished!"
Before leaving, Snape left a blatant threat, perhaps concerned about the recently active Witch Essence Party saints in the village, or maybe worried that Ian might really be sent to Azkaban by someone else.
"I promise I won’t ask around!"
Ian replied nervously, uncertain if it satisfied Snape, but in any case, Snape definitely hadn’t anticipated that the lasting "control" effect of his threat on Ian wouldn’t be too long.
Snape had just left.
Ian rushed to the bathroom.
Quickly opened the toilet tank.
Behold.
Wrapped in oilcloth, "Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled" lay quietly on the side of the tank—since last night’s big commotion, Ian had preemptively hidden it.
After all, with a crackling sound, a group of corpses emerged, making quite a racket.
Although he hadn’t expected the person he ran into would be Snape, Ian was still somewhat worried and prepared against the unusual situation in the cabin being noticed by other wizards.
After all.
Every day when he went out foraging, Ian often heard bar owner Rosmerta gossiping about who in the village was battling wizards or multiple witches at midnight.
Even such sounds could be detected.
How could Ian not worry about the noise he caused being noticed?
He told Snape much of the truth, for instance, being on edge—last night he truly stayed up all night, fearing a wizard might come knocking.
In this anxious state.
"Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled" certainly needed to be hidden away.
At the beginning.
Ian actually wanted to break the toilet, hide "Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled" in a secret pipe, then use a [Mending Charm] to restore the toilet to its original state, completely stealthy.
However.
Ultimately, he didn’t do it.
Not only worried about "Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled" being flushed away and marinated in unspeakable human substances, but also that the knowledge within would be desecrated.
Hmm.
The desecration of knowledge wasn’t that big of a concern, the fear was of tainting oneself with this desecration when learning... Ian did not want to enter school with a reputation like "he smells like fecal matter."
[Fecal Smell Wizard]
Such a title is terrifying just to imagine.
Because of this.
Ian opted for the next best choice.
Hiding "Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled" in the toilet tank was actually very hard to discover.
In fact, Snape had no clue Ian had obtained such a compendium of dark magic and hid it somewhere in the room.
With this textbook.
Why would he need to ask others about the Dark Arts?
"My precious~"
Ian only checked the oilcloth’s seal, then promptly hid "Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled" back, as he had more important things to do than study the Dark Arts right now.
[Successfully read the Magic Potion textbook, Master of Potions+1]
[Successfully read the Magic Potion textbook, Master of Potions+1]
[Successfully read the Magic Potion textbook, Master of Potions+1]
...
Yes.
Manually copying rented books.
This was the more important task.
Compared to knowledge that could be learned at any time, copying down seven grades of the Magic Potion textbook was an urgent matter for Ian.
Teacher Mara is a good teacher, but she clearly isn’t a good witch.
Heaven knows if Mara will continue teaching him more spells if he doesn’t complete what he promised, or if she’ll let him experience the taste of the Dark Arts firsthand?
Ian hasn’t interacted much with this mysterious soul in the Misty Illusion Realm, and can’t make an accurate judgment yet. Overall, rather Little Xiao You suffer a bit more than he risks testing.
Besides, Little Xiao You at this age had no other use anyway.
Might as well use him for intensive copying.
"Scratch, scratch~ scratch, scratch~ scratch, scratch~"
In the quiet cabin.
The friction between the feather pen and the notebook echoed continuously.
[Successfully read the Magic Potion textbook, Master of Potions+1]
[Successfully read the Magic Potion textbook, Master of Potions+1]
[Successfully read the Magic Potion textbook, Master of Potions+1]
...
The constantly growing skill level was Ian’s driving force for writing—automatic text-copying feather pens are sold in the village, and being "fed" by Snape again, Ian became financially comfortable once more.
Only.
Since discovering last night that copying these textbooks could increase his [Master of Potions] skill, Ian abandoned the idea of lazily using "technology".
The ability to study intensively.
For Ian, it’s a hobby. To let knowledge flow through the mind while copying, leaving traces of its passage, is such an enjoyable thing.
"There was once the Half-blood Prince; who’s to say, Hogwarts couldn’t produce another orphan prince!"
Ian thought his talent for potion-making should not be bad either.
After all.
Maybe for most little wizards, knowledge of potions, once entering their brain, might even mean that other knowledge gets washed away with it.
But with passive reading while copying, just being able to improve skill level, this kind of gifted level is basically only slightly less than Ian’s somewhat unreasonable Dark Arts talent.
Hmm.
Thus far.
It’s just the White Magic talent that’s a bit lacking.
It still requires repeated practice to master, with longer intervals between skill level increases when using compared to [Master of Potions], taking ten more minutes or so.
"If I could be taught by Dumbledore, perhaps I could compensate for my lack of talent in White Magic?" Ian was full of anticipation and longing for his studies once the term starts.
What?
Dumbledore doesn’t teach magic courses?
No such thing!
Could the great Headmaster reject a student’s eager desire to learn?
Thick-skinned!
That’s the real way to get ahead!
[Successfully read the Magic Potion textbook, Master of Potions+1]
Even when Ian’s mind occasionally wandered while copying, the skill improvement only slowed down, perhaps an underlying talent hidden in the Prince family bloodline.
The feather pen lightly touched the paper surface, the ink slowly congealing.
Sunlight streamed brightly from outside.
Inside, only the soft rustle of pen on paper, intertwined with the occasional page turn, in the air filled with a faint aroma of ink and books.
Ian was gradually immersed.
Focused.
...