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Ian arched an eyebrow.
"Fine," He said at last. "I'll find a wizard who actually knows about Phoenixes. They're the most sought-after companions, after all." He had a feeling Dumbledore would be a far better authority on the matter than Pandero.
That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.
"Have you forgotten who taught you to control your magic?!" Pandero burst out, kicking the freshly packed soil as though punishing it for Ian's remark. "I may not be a wizard— but I know more about them than any of you lot!"
Then, almost under his breath, he muttered,
"Wizards are all liars."
His words weren't meant for Ian.
"Ian, did you find my brother?"
Ariana, who had been fixated on the Phoenix egg, suddenly looked up and asked. Though she had the mind and manner of a teenager, her sharp intuition had clearly led her to guess the reason behind Ian's earlier line of questioning.
"Of course— I promised you, didn't I?" Ian nodded solemnly.
"How is he?"
There was a flicker of concern in Ariana's eyes.
Ian studied the girl standing just a little taller than himself and thought of the man he had encountered earlier. Something didn't quite add up.
"Someone I met on the road called you his aunt," he said, frowning slightly. "Could he be your nephew? Didn't he tell you anything about the Dumbledore family?"
Ariana's expression shifted in surprise.
"Someone did pass through. Said he was a traveler and only asked for a drink of water... Pandero was suspicious, though. Said souls don't get thirsty."
That certainly made sense.
Ian's revelation had clearly caught Ariana off guard.
"My nephew?" She looked utterly bewildered.
"I knew he wasn't just some traveler!" Pandero declared triumphantly, pleased that his instincts had been correct. He refrained from mentioning that he had suspected the man of darker motives.
Ian, however, had his own theory.
"I think he's Albus Dumbledore's son— an illegitimate one. Probably the offspring of some terrifying dark witch or something." His voice held a note of mischief, his certainty wavering. But since he was only familiar with Albus and had never met Aberforth, he naturally decided to stir up trouble regarding the brother he actually knew.
If Snape were here, he'd probably shake his head— spending too much time around Gryffindors had a way of rubbing off on people.
"You might not believe it, but your brother is doing quite well these days. I told him I'd let him know how you're faring, and in return, he'd sign over the Dumbledore family vault to me."
Ian, clearly lost in his own fantasy, sighed wistfully.
"Is that really true?" Ariana tilted her head skeptically. Having grown used to being around Ian, she knew better than to take him at face value.
"If you write it down, then it'll be true!" Ian declared, yanking a small table from the nearby post office and dramatically slapping down a stack of parchment and envelopes from his satchel.
"Ian, I died young— I didn't die stupid."
Ariana wasn't about to be tricked, and Ian let out a disappointed sigh.
"Alright, alright. I only met one of your brothers— Albus Dumbledore. He's the headmaster of our school now. As for your other brother… well, apparently, he's off somewhere herding goats."
"The portraits at Hogwarts told me."
Ian shared everything he knew.
"Brother Aberforth?" Ariana's expression froze for a moment, her eyes flickering with emotion as long-buried memories surfaced.
"Maybe I should write two letters," She murmured, glancing at Ian for guidance.
"Good thing I like to be prepared."
Ian pulled out another sheet of parchment and an envelope. He also noticed Pandero sneaking biscuits from the stash he'd brought for Ariana. But since she had confiscated Pandero's share earlier, Ian decided to turn a blind eye and simply handed Ariana the extra stationery.
"Actually… I don't know what to write."
Ariana stared at the parchment, deep in thought, quill poised but unmoving.
Seeing this, Ian— who had just settled himself comfortably at a distance— immediately got back up and returned to her side.
"You could write that Ian is a good friend and that, even if he breaks school rules, he shouldn't be punished. And under no circumstances should Dumbledore try to manipulate him into fighting Voldemort."
"If I must fight Voldemort, then I should be given a lot— a lot— of benefits," Ian added, making his stance clear. He had no intention of becoming unpaid labor alongside Harry Potter next year.
Who in their right mind would volunteer for that kind of work for free?
"Are you a troublemaker at school?" Ariana tilted her head, eyeing him curiously. After a moment's thought, she began writing, faithfully including everything Ian had dictated.
"That's… impossible," Ian chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, and you could also suggest that Dumbledore help me hatch the Phoenix egg. That way, I'll have more time to focus on being a hardworking student."
"It would be even better if he provided a few Galleons to support underprivileged Hogwarts students, like, say… an orphan with absolutely no financial resources."
Ariana, unimpressed by Ian's blatant attempt at extortion, only wrote down the first half of his request.
Naturally.
When it came to Galleons, even children knew to tread carefully. As Ariana shifted to writing something more sincere, Ian wandered over to where Pandero was loitering.
"That's Ariana's snack!"
Ian snatched a box of Every Flavour Beans from Pandero's hands.
"I just gave you a Phoenix egg!" Pandero protested indignantly, reaching for another treat— only for Ian to swipe the entire bag away.
"That was a trade!" Ian shot back, standing his ground.
"You should be off tracking that Welsh Green you promised to bring back for my teacher, Madam Morgan," He added casually, watching for Pandero's reaction. It was a carefully planted remark— both to remind him of his unfinished task and to gauge his response to the witch's name.
Pandero hesitated for a fraction of a second, his brow furrowing in mild discomfort. But beyond that momentary flicker of unease, he gave no real indication of recognition.
"I knew it was that witch!" He muttered, sulking.
Meanwhile, Ariana took her time composing her letters, lost in thought as she carefully chose her words. It felt as though the entire afternoon had passed by the time she finished.
The golden sunlight streamed through the scattered clouds.
Ian, growing restless, attempted to pick up some swordsmanship from Pandero— only to find himself swiftly disarmed in under five seconds. Every single time.
"Let's try something else! Wizard's chess! Wizard's chess is loads of fun!"
Ian, convinced that Pandero was exacting revenge for the stolen snacks, sought redemption through wizard's chess. Unfortunately, Pandero turned out to be even better at chess than the old warlock who ran the chess club in Hogsmeade.
And he had only just learned how to play.
"Right. That's it. I'm done!"
After losing three consecutive matches, Ian gave up, just as Ariana finished sealing her letters.
Sensing that his time was running short, Ian swiftly packed his things, preparing to leave. He could feel it— the strange pull that signaled his departure was imminent.
"See you next week."
As his figure gradually faded into the Twilight Zone, Pandero bent down, retrieving his fallen sword. He turned to Ariana, who had grown noticeably quiet, her gaze distant.
"Continue," he said simply, offering the sword to her.
But Ariana, her thoughts weighed down by old memories, wiped her eyes and shook her head.
"I don't think there's any point in learning swordsmanship anymore…"
Her voice was soft but certain.
Facing Ariana, who was clearly feeling down and spoke frankly, Pandero didn't get angry.
Pandero simply gazed at the girl before him, his jewel-like eyes clear. Though he still had the appearance of a boy, his voice suddenly deepened, steady and commanding.
"Of course it's meaningful, Ariana. There will come a time when swordsmanship will serve you well. Only by mastering it— only by becoming a true Valkyrie— will you have the chance to embrace reunion."
"Magic alone cannot shape your fate. I am giving you the means to claim it."
Beneath the golden sunlight.
Pandero's voice was gentle yet resolute, carrying a warmth that seemed to banish the lingering shadows in one's heart.
"Does your… er, that rather important part still hurt?"
Ariana rubbed her eyes and looked up at him, her question abruptly shattering the solemn moment.
Pandero's bright smile faltered.
"It still hurts a bit. Ian was far too rough."
His expression stiffened as he recalled the ordeal.
The memory continued to haunt him.
…
(To Be Continued…)