HR Chapter 103 The Resurrection Stone Part 1

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''Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor's Office''

After Ian was apprehended by Gilderoy Grindelwald outside the headmaster's office, he was briskly escorted to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's quarters to await further instructions. 

Grindelwald, for his part, had muttered something about needing to consult with Dumbledore regarding a recent discovery before disappearing down the corridor.

The tête-à-tête between the headmaster and his confidant was evidently not going to be brief. Ian had briefly entertained the idea of slipping back to his dormitory, but the thought of Grindelwald storming in to haul him back in the dead of night was enough to dissuade him. 

Ian was a wizard who valued his reputation, and the day's incident— where Snape had whisked him away in full view of the class— had already set the Hogwarts rumor mill ablaze. The last thing he needed was to be dragged out of bed by Grindelwald, sparking even wilder speculations about his connection to the enigmatic professor.

"What a blasted night," Ian muttered under his breath.

He stared at the cup of tea Grindelwald had prepared for him. It was served in a porcelain cup of exquisite craftsmanship, its surface smooth and delicate, with a glaze that shimmered like polished jade. Such a piece, with its flawless form and texture, was unmistakably a relic from the ancient East. 

While the wizarding world of Britain held a certain fascination for Eastern tea and its accouterments, such items were rare in Hogwarts or most wizarding households. Most witches and wizards tended to be insular in their tastes, but Grindelwald, it seemed, was a man of decidedly different inclinations.

The office, which appeared to have been recently redecorated, was a veritable trove of cultural artifacts from across the globe. Russian pine furniture, Persian rugs, Japanese wind chimes, African drums, and intricate wooden carvings— each piece bore the mark of its origin. 

On the wall hung an ancient Eastern broadsword and a wand from an unfamiliar culture, crossed in an X shape, as if symbolizing the convergence of worlds.

These items, though imbued with a magical aura, were mostly enchanted objects— Alchemical Artifacts, much like the Weasleys' enchanted car. It was unclear how Grindelwald dared to flaunt them so openly in his office, especially given his reputation as a wizard supremacist.

"What an enigma," Ian mused. He had always heard that Grindelwald's ideology was only slightly less extreme than Voldemort's pureblood fanaticism. Yet, here in this room, he found himself surrounded by items that seemed to contradict that notion.

Muggle artifacts.

Yes, there they were— a refrigerator, an oven, a television, a washing machine, and even a dismantled computer, all relatively expensive Muggle contraptions for the time. 

Grindelwald might have been wealthy in his own right, or perhaps he had pilfered Gilderoy Lockhart's assets, but Ian suspected the professor had simply helped himself to a Muggle millionaire's home for a spot of "shopping." What puzzled Ian was why a wizard supremacist would bother with such items.

"To understand Muggle society?" Ian wondered. With the collection in this office, even Quirinus Quirrell, Voldemort's lackey, might struggle to secure the Muggle Studies professorship upon his return. 

Grindelwald had even gone so far as to enchant a box of kimchi to keep it perpetually fresh, a nod to South Korean culture that surpassed even Muggle's understanding in the early 1990s. 

Curiously, the label beneath the kimchi box bore no analysis or insights from Grindelwald— just a row of five question marks: "?????". The professor had penned lengthy notes on the ancient East but seemed utterly baffled by the culture of the kimchi country.

"Understandable," Ian thought wryly. "Who wouldn't be confounded by their situation?"

As he waited for Grindelwald's return, Ian idly examined the professor's eclectic collection. Among the Muggle artifacts, only the enchanted radio seemed to function within Hogwarts' magical confines. 

Ian, who prided himself on his knowledge of both magic and Muggle technology, had once tried to power a tape recorder with a sustained magical current, only to find it stubbornly unresponsive. Even his recording of Daphne Greengrass's voice had refused to play.

"Blasted magic," Ian muttered, sipping his tea and resigning himself to the long wait.

Ian hadn't forgotten to lodge a complaint; he simply found himself without the evidence to do so. Of course, the fact that Miss Daphne Greengrass had been on her best behavior recently also played a part in his decision not to stir the cauldron. 

Otherwise, a well-timed question like, "Professor, what does 'mudblood' mean?" would have been enough to make Daphne squirm for weeks.

Ian had initially planned to bring up Daphne's past behavior with every professor at Hogwarts, but her apparent repentance had spared her— according to Aurora, she no longer dared to discriminate against Muggle-born wizards. 

In fact, she seemed more terrified of Ian than of the professors themselves. Ever since the Marcus incident, Daphne would take a detour the moment she spotted Ian in the distance. Even if it was pouring rain, she'd pretend to be out for a sunbath, determined to avoid him at all costs.

In shared classes between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, she made herself as inconspicuous as a Disillusionment Charm. If Ian so much as glanced in her direction, she'd tremble like a first-year facing a Boggart and duck under the table. 

Ian didn't consider himself particularly vindictive— only slightly so— and thus he didn't dwell on Daphne, though he did occasionally use his "stare" to give Miss Greengrass a harmless fright for his own amusement.

This was but a minor episode in his daily life. What truly caught his attention was the realization that Hogwarts not only lacked electricity but also actively prevented the use of electrical devices. 

It was as if some form of magical interference or restriction was at play. Even though Ian could generate a stable electric current through alchemy, he still couldn't power any Muggle electronic devices within the castle's walls.

"Only magically modified items can function here…" Ian mused.

He didn't fully understand the reason behind this. When he asked the portraits, they cryptically replied, "Every school rule has a story behind it." Perhaps something had happened at Hogwarts in the past, or maybe the entire wizarding world operated under similar constraints. Ian's limited experience didn't allow him to guess the answer.

"Regardless, combining magic and technology definitely has potential. It's surely more promising than focusing on a single skill tree," Ian thought, holding firm to his alchemical philosophy. 

For instance, the range of a spaceship is limited by fuel, but a magically powered spaceship would be an entirely different beast. Expensive and bulky space fuel is no match for wizards, who only need three pumpkin pasties a day… perhaps with a bit of pickled gurdyroot on the side?

Ian glanced at the enchanted jar of pickled gurdyroot on the shelf. Just then, footsteps echoed from the direction of the door, and Gilderoy Grindelwald, who had been engaged in a lengthy conversation with Dumbledore, finally returned.

"Apologies for keeping you waiting," Grindelwald said, his tone as inconsistent as ever when it came to courtesy. He seemed to be in high spirits. "Our headmaster was just too enthusiastic. Even though I tried to leave quickly, he kept me reminiscing about the past for what felt like an eternity."

Whether this was true or not, Ian couldn't tell. He couldn't read Grindelwald's thoughts, but the man's smile suggested that his conversation with Dumbledore had been a pleasant one.

(To Be Continued…)