mesbooks Chapter 139, Section 138: Ian is dead! Quirrell's mutation!
Chapter 139, Section 138: Ian is dead! Quirrell's mutation!
Chapter 139, Section 138: Ian is dead! Quirrell's mutation!
Despite not having slept all night, Ian didn't feel much fatigue or drowsiness. He returned to the Room of Requirement and started working on potions again, wanting to further improve the [Prince Magic Restoration Potion].
The current [Prince Magic Restoration Potion] cannot permanently restore a Squib's magic. Even if a Squib drinks the entire bottle of [Prince Magic Restoration Potion], it can only maintain the magic's activity for a few cycles. It has clearly not yet achieved the kind of permanent magic restoration effect that Ian considers perfect.
Although this might be the most profitable way, for a potion-making researcher like Ian, he could not make a potion that permanently restores magic, but he absolutely could not fail to make one.
How to maximize profits by selling is merely a worldly choice; the real achievement of someone who dares to call themselves a master of potions is the ability to permanently restore the magic within a dud.
"There must be such a method, and this method can also be used in the field of 'awakening' in aphrodisiac formulas. I can even use it to improve Professor Morgan's aphrodisiac formula."
"I just don't know if it's possible to create an aphrodisiac that lasts a lifetime. Would it cause panic and disputes in the secular world on an ethical and moral level?"
"There will definitely be a lot of people who think that if the effects of the drug can affect you for a lifetime, how can that not be considered love? There will also be some people who think that this kind of drug will be a desecration of love."
"Well, in the end, it all comes down to this: the potion itself is innocent. The guilty party is the person who uses it incorrectly. What if two people who are in love agree to take this love potion together?"
"It can certainly be given another name with a beautiful symbolic meaning."
Ian was thinking purely from the perspective of a professional potion connoisseur; he had no interest in a love potion whose effects could last a lifetime.
after all.
The young wizard had already seen what his face would look like when he grew up, and he knew that whether he relied on his looks or his abilities, it would definitely be much more effective than using love potions.
"Gurgle gurgle~"
The stack of pots was bubbling.
Exploring the direction of a potion's effects is not a simple matter, and Ian did not expect to get results in one night. He needed to try various ingredient ratios that might prolong the potion's effects.
This process is destined to be tedious and boring.
It's like the daily life of a college student studying materials science.
However, Ian seemed to be enjoying it.
[After careful preparation, your Potions Mastery proficiency has increased by 3.]
[After careful preparation, your Potions Mastery proficiency has increased by 2.]
[After careful preparation, your Potions Mastery proficiency has increased by 3.]
He did gain some personal proficiency, and by the morning of the next day, his [Potion Mastery] skill was poised to level up in another three to five days.
"Extraordinary traits are nothing special. What I crave now is legendary traits!" Ian already has quite a few level seven skills, and he might obtain his first legendary trait within the next two years. Extraordinary traits already make him stand out from the crowd at his level, so one can imagine that legendary traits will be even more incredible and extraordinary.
【Blazing Journey (Level 7) 87/6400】
[Language proficiency (Level 7) 154/6400]
Polymorph (Level 7) 341/6400
If he could get some lucky encounters or guidance from a "master," Ian felt that the time it would take to awaken his legendary traits could be shortened considerably.
Of course, no matter what, as long as he is still studying at Hogwarts and as long as he can still learn from Morgan in the Enchanted Realm, Ian's ability improvement speed will not slow down.
Before he met his teacher and entered Hogwarts, it took him many years to awaken two extraordinary traits through deception and trickery. This is probably the difference between having a background and not having one.
"From now on, I can sleep only three or four hours a day, and spend the rest of my time studying. The more magic I have, the stronger my energy will be. No wonder powerful wizards can easily live to be over two hundred years old."
Ian still felt energized despite staying up all night.
He gave the Dementors a few instructions to clean up, and after seeing the Dementors change into a cleaning uniform, he left the Room of Requirement with light steps.
outside the house.
Sunlight streamed through the windows into the castle. It was a rare sunny day in winter these days, which brought a touch of warmth to the bone-chilling air.
As Ian walked down the spiral staircase, he saw Filch standing in the corridor. Filch looked rather melancholy and dejected, standing blankly in front of an iron barrel as if he were thinking about something.
"It seems that returning to the Squib was a big blow to him."
Ian subtly bypassed Filch. However, before he had gone far, he heard the little wizard's exclamation behind him, followed by a very loud commotion.
"Boom!"
It was a violent explosion.
Ian was startled and pulled out his wand, turning around sharply, but he didn't find any dark wizard invading Hogwarts. He only saw Filch lying motionless on the ground.
It felt like yesterday was happening again.
The blown-up iron barrel fell from the ceiling, and Filch kicked his legs and fell unconscious again—the air was filled with a very strong smell of homemade gunpowder.
"??????"
Seeing the young wizards panic, shouting for help while frantically groping Filch, Ian's expression was priceless.
"Does this guy think his magic can be temporarily activated because the barrel was blown up?" Ian noticed that Filch had placed the barrel in the exact same spot as yesterday.
He felt he was probably right—except Filch had clearly underestimated the power of his homemade gunpowder, and the guy looked much more seriously injured than he had been yesterday.
Yesterday my legs could still twitch, but today I'm just lying there motionless.
"Could it be that he committed suicide?"
Ian turned around and stepped forward to check Filch's breathing.
"Almost alive but not really alive—almost out of life."
He sensed that Filch was exhaling more than he was inhaling.
Who will take him to the school clinic?
Ian hesitated for a moment but still gave Filch a bottle of potion that didn't have much effect. He watched the young wizards scatter like birds and beasts, which could only show his good quality of being helpful.
"Take this guy to the infirmary! You hear me!" Ian grabbed several Slytherin junior wizards; he not only saved Filch but also gave the Slytherin students morning exercise.
He gained merit, Filch regained his lifespan, and the Slytherin students became healthy.
A win-win-win situation.
After watching the burly men he had captured carry Filch away, Ian strode back toward the Great Hall. Perhaps the absence of young wizards scrambling for the popular breakfast could be considered another victory for him.
"That is wisdom!"
The young wizards who stayed at school for the holiday had already begun heading to the Great Hall for their meal, and Ian was no exception. When he entered the Great Hall, he saw that there were even more students than yesterday.
Some students took advantage of the good weather and finally decided to leave the warm lounge, while others who had already gone home for the holidays chose to return to school immediately after Christmas.
Ravenclaw students make up the largest group, while Gryffindor students make up the smallest. This is probably because the children from Ravenclaw are more worried about their classmates secretly studying behind their backs.
I always feel uneasy when I'm not at school.
When the young eagles are at home, they start to worry, fearing that other classmates will take advantage of the holiday to overtake them. Such worries are not unfounded, but happen every year.
It's not just during holidays that they try to take advantage of others' celebrations to get ahead; they do it even on ordinary days. They might tell you they're going to watch Quidditch but are actually secretly studying somewhere. And the story of a certain senior who, even while playing Eagle Art with his girlfriend, still managed to squeeze in some time to study has always been an "inspirational story" in Ravenclaw.
Of course, for the Gryffindor heroine in this story, this might just be her complaining to her best friend about how much of a penis her boyfriend has.
"Look at the new toys I brought from home!"
"It's the latest flying broomstick! Looks like you're going to be all the rage after the holidays."
"Doesn't anyone want to eat my mom's pies? She got her inspiration from Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and you might even get to try fresh sheep dung-flavored pies!"
"Why do I get the feeling that there's real sheep dung in this pie?"
"Guess why I brought it back to school for you to eat, hehe."
The low temperatures of winter did not dampen the energy of the young wizards.
The auditorium was bustling with activity.
Four long tables were placed symmetrically along the center of the room.
Each table was covered with a pristine white linen tablecloth, its edges embroidered with intricate patterns outlined in gold thread, complementing the antique portraits and flickering candlesticks hanging on the surrounding walls. The air was filled with the enticing aroma of food, a blend of freshly baked bread, the richness of stews, the freshness of vegetables, and the sweetness of desserts.
"Why do I look so strange?" Ian asked as he walked toward the long table where Aurora was. He noticed that Daphne Greengrass and her best friend were putting something in their mouths and about to leave.
"Maybe you didn't sleep well last night?"
When Ian grabbed Daphne Greengrass, she trembled and looked terrified. She took a few steps back like a startled fawn.
"Yeah, yeah. Didn't sleep well."
Gesha Selwyn's expression was also somewhat off. She stared at Ian with a strange look in her eyes, and at the same time, she dared not meet Ian's gaze. Her eyes showed a fear that was even greater than that of Daphne Greengrass.
"That's really strange."
Ian saw the two little witches dash out of the classroom in a flash. He looked around and saw that not only the two little witches, but also many students at the long tables who looked at him but he didn't recognize them.
Everyone's expression was somewhat strange and complicated—Ian recalled what he had done over the past two days and felt that he had been very low-key and had not done anything out of line.
He's tired of this endless cycle and definitely wants to take a break for a while.
"Why are you looking at me like that too?" Ian sat down next to Aurora. The way the German girl brewed tea last night still seemed incredibly amazing to him.
"It's not just us, the professors are the same." Aurora lowered her head again to eat the food on her plate, which was piled high with golden fried eggs, perfectly grilled sausages, and toast covered in jam. The German girl wasn't a picky eater; she ate whatever was in front of her every day.
Ian is different.
He filled his plate with beef, bacon, and grilled sausages, focusing on a high-protein meal. Even the porridge he drank was a special congee with preserved egg and lean pork, provided by the house-elf every day.
"What's wrong with me this time?"
Ian ate his meal while glancing up at the teachers' section.
The only people who came for breakfast on time were Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. They weren't just looking at Ian with strange eyes; the two of them leaned their heads close together as if they were whispering something.
Professor McGonagall's gaze was the most complex.
Professor Sprout's eyes showed disbelief. She noticed that after Ian noticed their discussion, he seemed guilty and quickly looked away, unwilling to meet the young wizard's gaze.
"Could it be that everyone knows I created an incredibly powerful potion?" Ian was completely bewildered as he recalled all his experiences after leaving the time loop.
There was nothing out of line, at least nothing out of line that would be discovered.
"Last night, many children from pure-blooded families, as well as some of the more outstanding students, had dreams of varying clarity, but they all remembered that you appeared in them."
"Some people remember more clearly, while others remember less clearly. I remember it more clearly, for example—" Aurora turned her head to look at Ian beside her.
"What did you dream about?"
Ian was still somewhat bewildered, but he already had a bad feeling.
"I dreamt that you did a lot of outrageous things. Some people said you raised a Dementor and scared people all over the school, while others said you blew up almost every part of the school."
"Daphne and her girlfriend said they dreamed that you tied Marcus Flint to a flying broom and then set it on fire so that Marcus Flint could actually fly into the sky."
"And you even threatened them that if they dared to tell anyone, you would make them the first wizards to walk on the moon—" Aurora was actually listing them off to Ian one by one on her fingers.
She had clearly done her research before Ian arrived at the auditorium.
Ian's expression became somewhat out of control.
Nima.
These are all things he did in the loop, right when the loop was about to restart. How did they become the scenes that the little wizards dream about when they go to sleep at night?
"And you? What did you dream about?"
Ian realized something was wrong.
He's done even more outrageous things than these, and if the young wizards dream about them, his already poor reputation at Hogwarts will probably never be salvaged.
"I dreamt that you were using my wand to pick your nose—the noses of magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest—saying you were collecting ingredients to brew a potion."
Aurora spoke in a low, melancholic tone.
"Dreams are just dreams; they shouldn't be taken seriously."
Ian lowered his head guiltily and ate his rice ravenously. He knew he might have been tricked by Salazar Slytherin again; wasn't it supposed to be that the time loop existed independently of the real world?
"No, I don't think this is a dream."
Aurora's words made Ian pause for a moment with his knife.
"It must be a collective prophecy—I should go back and find out why this is happening." Fortunately, the German girl didn't guess the truth.
The young wizard secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
He had already cursed Salazar Slytherin and his ancestors to the eighteenth generation in his mind. He genuinely felt his face burning, as if he could already see the rumors that would circulate about him.
Rumors are not scary.
What's terrifying is that he actually did those things—is this the founder's punishment? How did the promised custom server turn into this mess?!
"Actually, I had a dream too."
Ian was just about to use his usual tactic of blending in to avoid suspicion when suddenly, a series of hurried footsteps sounded outside the auditorium.
It was Snape, completely shrouded in a black robe.
He rushed into the Great Hall from outside, carrying his wand and covered in blood. Without even glancing at Ian or the others, he went straight to the teachers' section.
Many young wizards gasped in shock, staring at Snape with horrified eyes. His blood-covered body was indeed frightening, and some even began to speculate whether Snape had accidentally killed a student.
"quiet!"
Professor McGonagall's stern voice caused a stir among the students. She looked at Snape with a questioning gaze, her eyes fixed on the fresh bloodstains on his body.
"Something's happened, someone's dead." Snape whispered to Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, but Ian, bursting with curiosity, overheard the whole thing.
"Where?"
Professor McGonagall immediately stood up.
"Basement—I don't know who did it."
Snape's tone carried an indescribable complexity.
"Take me there."
Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout exchanged a glance, and she immediately followed Snape toward the door, while Professor Sprout remained in the Great Hall to watch over the young wizards.
"Are there any prefects still at school? Go and bring the students who are still in the common room over here!" Professor Sprout certainly knew what to do, and her serious expression made the young wizards tense.
"What happened?"
"Is someone dead?"
"I knew there would be no peace wherever succubi were around!"
The young wizards were in complete chaos.
However, Aurora didn't seem to care what had happened. She continued eating the food on her plate, and when she turned to talk to Ian, she found that Ian had disappeared.
"Who died?"
Ian, of course, followed Snape and Professor McGonagall. He followed the two men all the way to the basement, where he saw a cold corpse right outside Snape's office.
The corpse had completely lost its life force; its eyes were empty, devoid of pupils, and its abdomen appeared to have been cut open, losing all its internal organs and body parts.
"Damn it! How could it be him!"
Ian's pupils suddenly contracted.
While he was invisibly invisible under the Illusion Charm, he gasped – for no other reason than that he had even suspected along the way that he might see Lockhart's corpse.
But I never expected it.
The person lying on the ground was none other than that man—Quirinas Quirrell! A guy who, despite his constant bad luck, was absolutely not the type to suddenly die!
He has Voldemort on him!
He's probably even harder to kill than the four deans!
unless.
Just as Ian was filled with doubt and uncertainty.
"It's some kind of evil ritual."
Grindelwald, now sporting the face of "Lockhart," looked up and spoke in a deep voice as Snape approached with Professor McGonagall. He remained half-squatting beside the corpse.
"By Merlin! How—how could this happen!" Professor McGonagall couldn't bear to look at Professor Quirrell's miserable state; her voice was filled with disbelief and worry.
"Clearly, Professor Quirrell has gotten himself into some trouble that he can't handle."
Snape spoke with a pointed remark, his tone low and cryptic.
"Professor Snape, you—..."
Professor McGonagall glanced at Grindelwald, then turned to Snape, but hesitated to speak.
"He was disemboweled while still alive—" Grindelwald continued analyzing Quirrell's death, first looking up at where Ian was standing.
immediately.
Under Professor McGonagall's somewhat shocked gaze, he directly pulled off the trousers under Quirrell's blood-stained robe, exposing his bare buttocks, which were not stained with much blood, to everyone's eyes.
"How could you do such a thing—we should respect the body of a professor." Professor McGonagall averted her gaze, her tone carrying a hint of reproach towards Grindelwald.
however.
Grindelwald had not yet spoken.
"Damn it! This isn't right!"
Snape was the first to lose his balance, his expression changing drastically, he was utterly shocked.
"I need to inform Dumbledore!"
He rushed to his office. One wonders if the head of Slytherin had some means of maintaining contact with Dumbledore at any time hidden in his office.
"Gone—"
Ian knew why Snape was suddenly so uneasy and terrified. Both he and Snape were in the know and knew that Voldemort should have been on Quirrell's backside.
however.
Now, however, Voldemort is no longer on Quirrell's body.
"What the hell is going on?"
Ian didn't get closer, but he saw Grindelwald stand up and walk to his spot, brushing past him as if he were just passing by and slipping a note into his hand.
"It's that kind of cheat-like operation again—" Ian looked at his Illusion Charm level and felt quite helpless. He could only pray that his Extraordinary ability would bring about some qualitative change in his Illusion Charm.
Go to the principal's office.
After walking a little further away while clutching the note, Ian opened the note that had been shoved into his hand. Before he could do anything, he saw a group of Aurors coming down the stairs.
These people were aggressive.
Numerous.
"Professors, please remain where you are and do not move, because a trusted person has informed us that Albus Dumbledore is suspected of involvement in a murder and a dark magic ritual."
The person in charge was Cornelius Fudge, who had just taken office as Minister of Magic this year.
His tone was serious.
He looked solemn.
Upon seeing Professor Quirrell's mutilated body outside Snape's office, Cornelius Fudge immediately turned a wary look to Grindelwald and Professor McGonagall.
"Although I don't want this to happen either, for everyone's safety, please cooperate with our investigation." He was surprisingly authoritative.
He raised his hand, intending to signal the Aurors to remove Professor McGonagall and Grindelwald's wands.