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Returning to his dormitory without incident, Ian continued to examine the three peculiar eggs.
Would hatching them and selling them be more profitable?
Or perhaps raising them himself and allowing them to multiply?
"These are Ministry-restricted contraband. They can only be sold discreetly in Knockturn Alley. Maybe I should take them to the Twilight Zone tomorrow night and raise them there."
"Given the way time flows in the Twilight Zone… hmm, I might actually have a shot at becoming a master breeder of magical creatures."
Having decided on a plan, Ian carefully placed the eggs in his suitcase and cast several concealment spells over them. Feeling reassured, he settled in for the night amid the soft snores of his roommates.
Before falling asleep, Ian noticed that Snape and Dumbledore were still nearby. The two seemed to have an unusual rapport, given that they had started what could only be described as an elaborate game of hide-and-seek outside the Headmaster's office.
"Middle-aged wizards have more energy than I do," He muttered with a yawn.
After a quick wash, Ian soon drifted into sleep. Unlike most young wizards, he had already mastered the art of controlling his dreams, allowing him to craft his own adventures at will.
"Damn it! We came to rescue the princess! Why did you put her in the cauldron too?!"
...
At the break of dawn, Hogwarts slowly stirred to life.
The first rays of sunlight shyly peeked through the castle's towering windows, casting a golden glow over the ancient stone walls. The sky transitioned from deep blue to a delicate pink, then to a brilliant gold— nature's own masterpiece unfolding over the sleeping world.
"Morning!"
"We've got Defense Against the Dark Arts today!"
"The new professor is Lockhart! My mum and dad divorced because of him!"
Students began spilling out of their dormitories, filling the corridors with laughter, chatter, and playful teasing. Some rubbed sleep from their eyes, while others were already brimming with energy, eager to face the day's lessons and challenges.
It was an unmistakable divide— those who embraced their studies, and those who barely tolerated them.
'Smack!'
'Smack!'
Ian had been one of the last to sleep the night before, but thanks to a psychological shadow cast by Aurora, his usually controllable dreams had taken an unexpected turn.
As a result, he awoke unusually early— which is not entirely a bad thing, as in his dormitory, the earliest riser enjoyed a rather peculiar privilege: the right to deliver two well-placed slaps to the nearest sleeping roommate.
Having fulfilled this morning ritual, Ian stepped out of the dormitory only to witness a similar custom taking place elsewhere. A girl was slapping a boy across the face with great enthusiasm.
The words '"Why didn't you brush your teeth?!"' echoed down the hallway.
Ian hastily covered his ears and quickened his pace.
He knew.
A new day full of vitality and energy had dawned over Hogwarts. Breakfast remained a hearty affair, yet Ian, with a slightly diminished appetite, settled for two vegetarian sandwiches.
With Halloween fast approaching, many young wizards were eagerly chattering about it over their morning meal. Ian gazed thoughtfully at the floating candles that flickered everlastingly above the Great Hall.
"What's on your mind?" William, munching on a rasher of bacon, leaned in curiously.
"I'm thinking you should practice handling magical creatures more often and stop losing mine," Ian muttered, recalling the rather frustrating dream he'd had the night before.
"Maybe you should just get a broomstick instead. I'm much better at handling those," William quipped, well aware of Ian's penchant for wildly imaginative dreams.
"What about me? What did I do last night?" Michael chimed in, not wanting to be left out. At just over ten years old, no one wanted to be the forgotten member of a trio.
Ian glanced at him, setting down his sandwich.
"I don't know, Michael. Maybe you should ask William. He's the one who lost you, not me."
Michael let out a dramatic sigh.
The clever Ravenclaw frowned for a moment before grinning. "I bet I was off conquering the wizarding world. I'd make a great Dark Lord, wouldn't I?"
Laughing, the three of them gathered their "The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection" textbooks and left the Great Hall.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was located on the second floor.
As one of the more peculiar subjects in the O.W.L. curriculum, Defense Against the Dark Arts had its own unique teaching methods. Unlike most classes, it was conducted separately for each House.
"No one's here?"
"We're the first!"
Having eaten quickly, they were the first to arrive.
When Ian and his two roommates pushed open the door, they were surprised to find the classroom devoid of desks and chairs. Everything had been moved elsewhere.
"I bet Lockhart sold off school property," Michael declared confidently. "My mum says he's a right piece of work. Apparently, handsome men are never trustworthy."
Ian shot him a pointed look.
Michael quickly backtracked, "Of course, you're the exception, Ian. My mum isn't always right, you know."
Then, as if struck by inspiration, he added eagerly, "Can I take care of William tonight? I promise I won't lose him."
William, who had been skimming through his textbook, suddenly perked up and lunged at Michael.
"Oi! I'm Ian's favourite groom!"
The two began wrestling in the empty classroom.
"You two are ridiculous," Ian remarked, blissfully unaware of his own hypocrisy.
Still, something about the room nagged at him. Why hadn't Lockhart decorated the place with piles of his own books?
Given Lockhart's nature, even if his autobiographies weren't required reading, he surely would have found a way to distribute a few free copies in an attempt to boost his own popularity.
"Maybe the other students are helping him lug them in. Knowing him, he might be shameless enough to peddle them right in the middle of class."
As Ian speculated, more Ravenclaw students trickled in. Among the early arrivals was Cho Chang, who made a beeline for him.
"Here."
She handed him a small bag of coins. "Thirteen Galleons each. I sold five for you. Turns out your map is more popular than I expected."
Ian raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think people would pay in full without even seeing it first."
He opened the pouch, and a glimmer of gold met his eyes.
Perhaps, before Halloween, he could send gifts to the children at the orphanage. Of course, if the Ministry didn't allow enchanted objects to be sent to Muggles, he might have to ask his rather 'understanding' uncle to exchange the Galleons for pounds. With winter fast approaching, his childhood friends could use thick blankets and new coats.
Ian wanted to make money.
For many reasons.
"It's because the buyers are my friends, ones I've known since childhood," Cho said, watching as Ian discreetly handed her a few more maps like some dodgy merchant in Knockturn Alley.
"Much appreciated, my dear friend... These are the improved versions! Consider them the premium edition."
Pulling out his own money bag, Ian counted out a few Sickles to give Cho as commission.
He still found the wizarding currency system absurd. One Galleon equalled seventeen Sickles, and one Sickle equalled twenty-nine Knuts. Who came up with these numbers?
Wouldn't a decimal system be far more sensible?
Perhaps the magical beings who first devised wizarding money had seventeen fingers and twenty-nine toes?
"No need."
Cho Chang shook her head. "Consider it my tuition for future lessons. Last night's class was amazing. It's clear you're far more advanced than the rest of us."
Her voice carried genuine admiration, and for a moment, she seemed almost dazed— only snapping back to reality when she noticed that Ian had already tucked both money bags into his robes.
So fast.
It was so fast that it was almost dizzying.
(To Be Continued…)