HR Chapter 137 A New Prophecy! Grindelwald's Worries! Part 1

After slipping away from that nighttime encounter with Snape, Ian returned to the Room of Requirement. He reflected on how careless he'd become during his recent late-night wanderings.

"My night time excursions will still require keeping a close eye on the Marauder's Map," He muttered.

He'd nearly been caught again, and while Filch, the cantankerous caretaker, wouldn't dare lay a finger on him, it didn't mean he wouldn't stumble across one of the other professors lurking in the shadows.

Be it Professor McGonagall or any of the other Heads of House, none would turn a blind eye to mischief in the corridors after hours. And Snape, Snape was the worst of the lot, always ready to toss in a little personal spite along with the punishment.

"The golden rule of sneaking is still: Don't get caught."

Ian had no intention of handing his dear uncle a golden opportunity to punish him. If Filch were to catch wind of his movements, Ian would end up scrubbing trophies with a toothbrush again. He'd done his fair share of waste disposal duty at the start of every cycle.

To be honest, during one such cycle, Ian had even roped in a Dementor to do the dirty work for him, which unfortunately terrified a few nocturnal first-years into unconsciousness.

That cycle had ended in absolute chaos, and Ian had wound up enduring even harsher punishment from Snape. Truly, the professor he dreaded most at Hogwarts was his 'beloved' uncle.

Snape really did have a special talent for making one's life miserable.

"Sort these ingredients for me, I'm on the brink of completing something extraordinary!" Ian declared, watching the cauldron bubble as he handed over the search for suitable substitute materials to the Dementor.

The well-trained Dementor immediately got to work, gliding silently around the room as it gathered and prepared ingredients.

"Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop~"

It was more skilled and efficient at handling potion ingredients than many of the younger students. Ian raised an eyebrow in surprise and looked on with a curious expression on his face.

"How did you suddenly get so good at this?" When Ian had left the Room of Requirement earlier, the Dementor had still been fumbling about like a flobberworm in Potions class.

Yet now, just a few hours later, the creature behaved like it had attended a Master-Level Magical Brewing Seminar. Their synergy had also improved drastically.

"You've been secretly training behind my back, haven't you? Quietly becoming clever! Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant! You'll be crowned King of Dementors at this rate!" Ian exclaimed, once again envisioning a sparkling future for his non-human assistant.

He was increasingly pleased with its improved efficiency and dedication.

[Through tireless refining, Potions Proficiency +3]

[Through tireless refining, Potions Proficiency +2]

[Through tireless refining, Potions Proficiency +3]

...

And so it went.

After half the night passed in a blur of brewing, Ian finally completed his first batch of a particularly tricky experimental potion, a hypothesis in liquid form. Of all the potions he'd worked on, only the Infinite Firepower Potion had been more complex.

Of course, if he had the luxury of throwing endless Galleons at the problem, things would've been far simpler. But managing to save several hundred Galleons in one night? That, to Ian, was time well spent.

Moreover, just as every wizard ought to enjoy the benefits of magical innovation, potion-making should be accessible to all. A potion too costly to brew couldn't truly be called great.

"I'll need a test subject," Ian murmured, gently shaking the vial. As he did, the once-murky liquid turned radiant, glowing with vibrant brilliance.

The colour shimmered like bottled starlight, enchanting to behold.

This was the secret Ian had uncovered from the "Awakening" phase in Professor Morgan's obscure love potion notes, a curious step that could awaken dormant or damaged magical reserves within a wizard.

It was designed to help those whose magical cores had been permanently weakened due to magical overexertion.

But more importantly, 

Its greatest potential was in aiding Squibs. Unknown to many, Squibs did possess magical energy, but it simply remained inert from birth. Some even held latent reserves greater than certain fully-trained wizards.

However, without ever having activated that magic, they'd spent their lives as non-magical. In some rare cases, wizards who endured magical trauma could also become Squibs, stripped of active magic but not of their magical essence.

Ian's potion addressed this dilemma directly. If it ever left the walls of Hogwarts, it was guaranteed to send shockwaves through the wizarding world. Squibs everywhere would go utterly mad for it.

"This is definitely worthy of a Merlin Medal. First Class, even. My name'll spread far and wide while my Gringotts vault overflows," Ian mused, grinning with satisfaction.

Like the Infinite Firepower Draught, this new creation had the power to cause a stir. Ian was far bolder than Snape ever was; he had both ambition and a vision for change. Why not chase glory and gold at once?

A gift to the wizarding world, 

And a gift to himself.

A win-win situation, if ever there was one.

"Not just Galleons, but a legacy too, what wizard could say no to that?"

Ian gazed at the swirling starlight in the potion, his voice barely a whisper. Plans were already forming in his mind. Above all else, one thing was clear: Snape mustn't find out. Not yet.

Otherwise, his dear uncle would certainly put a stop to his experimentation with this potion, just as he had with the Infinite Firepower. Of course, Ian understood his uncle's thoughts and concerns.

The wizarding world was bound to face upheaval, and with change came danger. Ian wasn't someone to shy away from chaos, he had his own sense of what was manageable and what wasn't. Compared to the potential hidden in the Infinite Firepower Potion, this new potion, which could give Squibs genuine hope, was far less shocking.

The problem lay in how high the stakes were.

It might attract the greedy gaze of pure-blood families across the globe.

And that was a burden even Snape might struggle to bear.

But Ian believed he could handle it.

His strength had reached a rather respectable level.

And more importantly, he never intended to keep all the spoils for himself.

He planned to bring Aurora and Ariana into the fold, sharing the rewards with his living companions, and those in the Twilight Zone certainly wouldn't turn down the chance to set up a few chocolate cauldrons there.

Once the names of Grindelwald and Dumbledore were woven into the project, the envy stirred by such immense gains would surely diminish, and Ian wouldn't worry about stray threats from petty individuals.

"The Prince's Magic Revival Draught will become famous among wizarding families the world over!"

Ian felt a rush of pride as he gave the potion its name. Though it had originated from an assignment by Professor Morgan, who could argue that he didn't understand how to, well, round off the credit better than most?

Professor Morgan had long since passed on, and as her student, Ian certainly had the right to inherit her legacy. And if he nudged the logic a bit further, surely that extended to naming rights.

"Still, best to show some decency." Ian pulled out a scrap of parchment and quickly sketched a likeness of Professor Morgan, affixing the drawing onto the vial like a label.

And just like that, a packaging design future generations might find inexplicable was hastily born in the Room of Requirement. Perhaps even Ian hadn't yet realised how this small act would shape the future.

The groundwork for something legendary, 

Had already begun to take form.

…

(To Be Continued…)

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