Chapter 46: The Real Culprit? A Warning!

Prying up the floorboards.

Digging into the dirt.

Opening the coffin.

Burying everything again and laying the boards back down.

Practice truly does make perfect. The entire process—from uncovering to re-covering—took Ian surprisingly little time. As a result, he managed to climb into his stiff wooden bed before eleven o'clock that night.

"At least sleeping on something this hard might be good for my neck and lower back,"

he mused, thinking about health at an age most would find premature. Ordinarily, he would sleep soundly, but tonight, his mind raced, and rest felt elusive.

Ian's imagination roamed as he lay there, too awake to drift off:

"A free library, a huge Hogwarts kitchen, the owlery in the west tower… Let's just hope no one sees that place as a source of free owl-based meals."

His thoughts outpaced his fatigue, and he began outlining his goals for first year:

"I've got to find the Room of Requirement. Maybe it can create a wand I can't take outside, but it'd let me practice magic to my heart's content within the room."

"As for Quidditch, whoever wants it can go for it. But I do want to examine flying brooms and maybe change their designs. Shame I'll miss riding the Hogwarts Express, though."

He had no idea when he finally dozed off.

Outside, the stars shimmered like tiny gems scattered over black velvet, and a lone shooting star drew a quick streak of light across the sky's expanse. All night long, crickets and rustling leaves formed a gentle lullaby until dawn.

Morning came:

"Time to brush my teeth! Wash my face!"

Ian needed no alarm. The moment sunlight spilled in, he shot up in bed, quickly slipping on the black robes Snape had purchased for him in Diagon Alley. Most wizards changed into their school robes aboard the Hogwarts Express, but since he wasn't getting that chance, he decided to be fully dressed from the start—no way was he going to change in front of the entire school.

"Not like anyone's gonna throw a pile of Galleons at me,"

he told himself.

"And even if they did, it wouldn't be worth that kind of embarrassment."

Checking to make sure the floorboards he'd replaced the night before were still secure, and verifying that all his possessions were packed into his trunk, Ian settled in to wait for Snape's arrival.

He waited—

and waited.

As the sun moved from east to west, his initial excitement faded, replaced by a bored, hollow feeling.

"Could he have forgotten about me?"

Ian remembered Snape's promise—he had said he would pick Ian up on the first day of term. Now, having waited nearly the entire day, Ian began doubting the man's reliability. In the original story, the "greasy bat" didn't exactly have a sterling reputation for trustworthiness. The longer Ian thought about it, the more convinced he became that Snape had stood him up. So, he hefted his trunk, prepared to reach Hogwarts on his own.

It wasn't actually too far from the village: the Hogwarts Express station was nearby, and the castle itself lay just beyond a stretch of forest.

But just as he reached the little wooden house's door, trunk in hand—

Bang!

The door was flung open with a rough kick. Snape strode in with that ever-present, frosty expression, sweeping the room with his gaze before letting out a faint breath of relief. Finally, his dark, fathomless eyes rested on Ian.

"If you're ready, then come along,"

he said flatly, turning at once to head back outside.

"I thought you'd forgotten me,"

Ian said, hurrying after him.

"Huh. Don't you have legs to walk yourself to school?"

Snape retorted, a slight sneer twisting his lips.

"Well, I was just about to,"

Ian shot back, rolling his eyes.

He followed Snape outdoors, only to notice someone else standing there with a trunk. The dying rays of daylight bathed the girl's platinum hair in a subtle golden glow.

"Miss Grindelwald?"

Ian greeted her with obvious surprise.

"Good afternoon, my friend. You can simply call me Aurora,"

she said, nodding slightly.

Snape scowled in immediate suspicion, switching his gaze from one to the other.

"Did you teach him that magic?"

He was clearly connecting Ian's Corpse Control Curse to Aurora. Ian might be a fast learner, but Snape found it hard to believe the boy had merely stumbled upon a scrap of Dark Magic in Hogsmeade's streets.

"He's never learned any spells from me,"

Aurora answered calmly, meeting Snape's glare. She showed no fear in her mismatched eyes.

"Miss Grindelwald, I'm not sure what prompted Dumbledore to approve your enrollment at Hogwarts, but I expect you to follow its rules."

Snape's voice dropped, a clear warning threaded through his words.

"Don't let me catch wind of certain things making their way into the school."

"That's a perfectly reasonable request,"

she replied, unruffled. Ian, meanwhile, watched her carefully, half-expecting her to grab her wand.

"And you!"

Snape snapped, wheeling on Ian.

"What did you say to Dumbledore? What nonsense did you spout about me?"

He glared as if ready to bite.

"Huh?"

Ian blinked in confusion.

"All I did was give him a cup of tea, if I recall correctly. I think I was perfectly polite. As for Dumbledore's phoenix… it nearly made me go bald from stress."

Ian self-consciously rubbed his head. Growing up in England, he knew that two concerns typically plagued any man from birth:

You might discover you prefer men.

You might lose all your hair and go the way of the classic "English balding."

"If you didn't spout lies, then why would Dumbledore—?"

Snape's indignation rose like a storm.

But before he could blow up,

"Professor, aren't we leaving soon?"

Aurora interjected quietly, stopping him mid-question.

Perhaps realizing he shouldn't drag family rumors into public, Snape swallowed his outburst. Face dark as thunder, he swept past both of them, leading the way toward the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village.

"Keep up!"

he barked.

"Hey, my friend,"

Ian said to Aurora, bustling over to her side.

"Need help with your luggage?"

"This is perfectly light for me,"

she replied, declining him with a cool tone.

"I figured as much… so maybe you can help me? Mine's a little heavy."

In one swift motion, Ian set his own trunk beside hers, pried her hand open, and slid the handle of his trunk into her grasp.

"???..."

Aurora's mismatched eyes widened in astonishment, while Ian dashed off ahead, leaving her staring after him in disbelief.

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