Ian hesitated at the threshold, hand hovering in preparation to knock. If Hagrid wasn't in, he could always try again tomorrow. But just as he steeled himself to rap on the wooden door,
"Prince! Breaking school rules again, are we?" A familiar, wrathful voice rang out.
Before Ian could react, a shadow loomed behind him, and he was promptly hoisted into the air by the collar of his robes.
"This is the edge of the Forbidden Forest! Have you lost your mind, sneaking into such a perilous place?" Snape's fury was so intense that he all but sprayed spittle with every syllable.
"I only came to see Hagrid!" Ian protested while dangling indignantly. He hadn't planned to venture into the forest itself, he'd merely hoped to acquire a few ingredients from Hagrid, like preserved frog brains and other goods sourced from the wild.
"I knew that oaf was behind this! Expelled for breaking school rules, and yet he insists on corrupting the students still in attendance!"
Snape's sneer was practically audible as he gritted his teeth.
"Keep your voice down! If Hagrid hears you, he'll be upset," Ian whispered hastily, attempting to clap a hand over Snape's mouth. Snape, still holding Ian aloft, effortlessly leaned away.
"That half-Giant isn't here," Snape stated coldly, his certainty unwavering.
Ian couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.
Snape, of course, noticed immediately.
"I won't have you fraternizing with a Giant," He snapped. "You do realize that Giants are among the most lethal of all magical creatures?"
"Not just Hagrid, anything in that forest could tear you apart in an instant," Snape added ominously, clearly intending to terrify Ian into compliance.
Instead, Ian's eyes lit up.
Aha!
His good uncle wasn't forbidding him outright, he simply thought Ian wasn't strong enough yet!
Just like with Potions!
"I can protect myself!" Ian declared, eager to prove his point. He swiftly drew his wand and aimed at a nearby tree.
"Sectumsempra!"
Naturally, he wasn't reckless enough to use his modified version in front of the original caster. Still, an invisible blade sliced through the air like a wraith, and in an instant, the ancient tree split apart, reduced to a cascade of splinters.
"????"
Snape visibly stiffened.
"Merlin's bloody beard, how much time do you spend dabbling in Dark magic every day?" His voice carried an edge of disbelief, the sheer power behind the spell making his pulse quicken.
"I just really admire your magic!" Ian beamed, attempting to flatter him.
Snape, however, looked utterly unimpressed. Without another word, he turned on his heel and began dragging Ian back toward the castle.
"That blasted Sorting Hat ought to be flung into a dung heap! Prince, you infernal menace!" Snape seethed, seemingly directing his ire at Ian's House itself.
Ian opened his mouth to protest, until he noticed something peculiar.
Snape's cloak bulged slightly at the waist, revealing an overstuffed satchel, its seams straining under the weight of numerous odd-shaped packages, potion ingredients.
"Hiss~"
Ian's eyes gleamed with realization.
No wonder Snape was so quick to accuse others of pilfering his ingredients. It turned out he was the biggest culprit of all!
Leading by example indeed and teaching by one too!
…
The weather had turned colder in recent days, and the young wizards' robes had steadily grown thicker. Even over in Gryffindor, a few enterprising students had begun selling portable heating charms.
It wasn't exactly an advanced piece of alchemy, just a simple Ever-Warm Flask, a small enchanted bottle containing a flickering blue flame, capable of providing a bit of warmth and, more importantly, a dash of student fashion to whoever held it.
For just a few silver Sickles, one could stay cozy all winter, making it a rather cost-effective alternative that swiftly undercut the heated undergarments Ian had developed under William's encouragement.
Though William managed to sell about fifteen or sixteen pairs, their combined profit didn't even come close to what Ian had made selling his charmed maps.
"This is cutthroat competition from the Weasley twins! A classic case of a price war, disgraceful tactics worthy of goblin-led markets!"
The battle between two Galleons and five Sickles perfectly showcased the financial struggles of Hogwarts' students, and highlighted the fact that William was definitely not the right person to be Ian's business consultant in matters of alchemy.
Ian, shameless as ever, even roped Aurora into persuading Slytherin students to invest in his product. But despite Aurora's influence, only four or five pairs were sold within her House.
In fact, her efforts performed even worse than Ian's advertisements in his private study group. It became painfully clear that even Slytherins, often seen as well-off and extravagant, weren't foolish enough to throw money at impractical purchases.
Perhaps the real problem was that Ian's heated undergarments weren't exactly a visible status symbol?
Among the Ravenclaws, the product received decent feedback, but many were wary that their warming runes might malfunction and set fire to their actual wands, an unfortunate misconception caused by a lack of understanding of alchemy.
"This is all your fault! This is your Christmas present!" Furious over his commercial defeat at the hands of the twins, Ian angrily hurled the remaining heated undergarments at William.
William, however, took this as nothing short of a gift from Merlin himself. Overjoyed, he even began experimenting with printing custom designs on them. His family had, for some reason, sent him a collection of bizarre objects, including an ancient printing press capable of producing animated patterns.
"Aren't you worried that William will end up poisoned?"
Ian eyed the ink suspiciously, highly doubtful about its quality. Based on his own studies of Professor Morgan's alchemy, and the level-four refinement techniques he had developed using enchanted constructs from the Room of Requirement, he'd wager that ink had been sitting in that old press for decades.
"This is far more useful than Gryffindor's Portable Hearth," William declared earnestly, his devotion to the heated undergarments already well-known within Ravenclaw. He had, in fact, taken to wearing a pair on his head during lessons for several consecutive days.
Naturally, to avoid ridicule, he concealed them beneath a knitted hat, but while this trick may have fooled students from other Houses, it did nothing to deceive his fellow Ravenclaws. Michael and the others frequently speculated in hushed conversations whether William's big head or his little head was warmer.
After all, the weather wasn't quite cold enough yet to justify wearing a hat indoors.
"Definitely the head is warmer!"
The confident response came from a freckled boy who consistently paid his tuition in assorted snacks. Though the others dismissed his claim, Ian found it utterly credible, after all, besides William (who was essentially a walking advertisement), this boy, fondly known as the Chocolate Frog Collector, was the only student who had bought two pairs of heated undergarments.
Niche products might have their loyalists, but they couldn't disguise Ian's commercial failure. His brooding over the matter became so obvious that even the enchanted bronze eagle guarding Ravenclaw Tower took notice.
"Why haven't you come to chat with me these past few days?" The eagle's voice, reminiscent of a polished, ethereal melody, rarely initiated conversation outside of its usual riddles.
"I've been busy," Ian replied cautiously, well aware of the statue's peculiarities. "I am a student, after all. I do have studying to do."
However, a thousand-year-old enchanted artifact and a thousand-year-old witch likely weren't all that different, were they?
(To Be Continued…)
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