Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter)

Unfortunately, he was not someone inclined toward humility or playing the fool to catch the lion.

And after defeating Voldemort, and having that very fact widely circulated, there was no hiding anymore. The concept of staying low-key had become completely impractical. Ian understood that he would have to prepare for whatever ripple effects would follow, with a full array of magical measures and contingency plans.

"Who knows if Voldemort left behind secret instructions for his other soul fragments? Or if his fanatics are holding a grudge and plotting revenge? I'd be a fool not to prepare."

"This isn't paranoia, it's caution, ingrained in my very blood as a wizard from a line known for vigilance and subtlety. I won't rest easy until I can face down every pure-blood faction with nothing but my wand and my wits."

And now that he had the stealthy mobility offered by the black phoenix, it was finally time to put into motion a few ideas that had long been simmering in the back of his mind.

In the past few days, Ian had been covertly using the stealth abilities of his black Phoenix to collect strands of hair from young wizards across the various common rooms. 

This covert operation served two purposes: one, to further investigate the theories outlined in Origins of Bloodlines, and two, to develop a new batch of Forbidden Potions designed to affect the broader wizarding population.

Having experienced the potent effects of the Forbidden Potions, Ian had grown rather enamoured with their capabilities. However, even he knew he couldn't go around disturbing his classmates' ancestral tombs just to gather the rare materials needed for refinement.

That sort of behaviour would certainly provoke public outrage.

Even if he used an advanced Polyjuice brew to disguise himself as Tom Riddle Sr. and perform the grave-robbing, Ian had to admit it would slightly tarnish his moral reputation. 

Hence, his current objective was to devise a universal variant of the Forbidden Potions, one that could interact with most wizards regardless of bloodline, and fortunately, the unique trait of Extreme Fusion had allowed him a glimpse at the possibility of making such a potion real.

"Although wizarding bloodlines differ, I've discerned consistent magical threads, what one might call magical genes, present in all of them. The core essence that reacts to magic is universal," Ian mused. 

His research required an extensive collection of samples, and the fact that he could conduct such complex magical studies using only hair was already testament to his remarkable aptitude.

He liked to think many deceased wizards might now be resting easier because of that.

"Note this: sixty-fourth attempt at universal Forbidden Potion refinement has failed. Suspected cause, lack of effective filtration enchantment, resulting in indiscriminate magical suppression across all test subjects," Ian announced aloud.

The command was directed at the enchanted Homework Quill hovering beside him.

The Dementor he had once toyed with clearly wasn't cut out for clerical duties.

Thus, the Homework Quill, initially designed for aiding in essay-writing, had now found its true calling. Ian had enhanced the alchemical quill with spellwork so it could dutifully log experimental data while still maintaining its core purpose.

Indeed, the Homework Quill remained indispensable in finishing and transcribing The True Secrets of the Prince, the book that had begun as a profit-seeking endeavour and blossomed into an intellectual success.

He had made a tidy pile of Galleons from the invention, far more than he would've earned writing term papers for others.

"Intellectual property is truly gold," Ian said smugly, stroking his black Phoenix while reviewing his financial gains. With vaults now comfortably lined, he could finally consider himself wealthy by any standard.

A neatly stacked mound of gleaming Galleons really was a feast for the eyes.

"Oi! Stop trying to eat them!"

He smacked the beak of the black Phoenix, which was attempting to swallow one of the coins. During the day, Ian kept the magical creature safely hidden within the Room of Requirement, letting it stretch its wings at nightfall.

There wasn't much choice in the matter.

Rumours still ran rampant about his alleged secret residence in Dumbledore's quarters, and Ian wasn't keen on fuelling any more gossip. Spotting the rare black Phoenix might give certain overly imaginative students new material to stir the shit with.

Even though the black Phoenix looked nothing like Fawkes, you never knew. Some were already whispering about it being the "lovechild" of Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, which was utterly preposterous, of course.

Ian dreaded the possibility of such whispers evolving into something even more ludicrous. Consequently, his Phoenix had started venting its frustrations by chasing after Fawkes at night, frequently pecking at him in a jealous fury.

The eerie cries of "caw caw caw" circling above Hogwarts had now become the stuff of legend, an ominous tale whispered by boys to scare their sweethearts.

Ian had even gone so far as to concoct a ghost story around the noise, frightening several young Ravenclaws who'd chosen to stay behind over the holidays. No one ever suspected he was behind the nightly racket.

Well, almost no one. The Ravenclaw bronze eagle knocker had once remarked that he smelled suspiciously of another bird, but the enchanted sentry was easy to appease. Ian had learned that appealing to the knocker's childlike nature worked wonders in keeping its gossipy mouth shut.

Ever since discovering that, he hadn't been locked out of the common room once. However, it did give rise to yet another rumour: that he was secretly courting the bronze eagle.

Ian couldn't care less at this point.

He had endured far too many outlandish rumours to be bothered anymore. They didn't slow him down in the slightest; if anything, he found he studied more efficiently now. Thanks to his extra hours in the library, he had even mastered the Silent Explosion Charm.

Not to be confused with a nonverbal casting, the Silent Explosion Charm allowed an explosion to occur with no accompanying sound whatsoever. It was, without doubt, a brilliant invention. If not for the cautioning of his Head of House, Ian would have published a paper on it immediately.

Professor Filius Flitwick had warned him that the original explosion charm was already dangerously close to being considered dark magic, and if this silent variant were widely circulated, the Ministry might see fit to strike it from the academic curriculum entirely.

Ian remained unconvinced.

He'd already debated this with Flitwick multiple times and wasn't likely to stop anytime soon.

Now, 

As a fresh batch of universal Forbidden Potions began to bubble in the cauldron, Ian seized a quiet moment to make his way toward Professor Flitwick's office. The Charms Master's study, as always, was in a state of creative disarray.

Walking into this office felt like stepping into a labyrinth of arcane knowledge and well-worn wisdom. The walls were entirely concealed behind towering shelves, stretching from floor to ceiling, each one overflowing with volumes of all kinds. 

Tomes on charms and spellwork were particularly abundant, their bindings softly aglow beneath enchanted lamplight, promising insight to any witch or wizard keen enough to seek it.

It was very much like a miniature library, reminiscent of the little library tucked inside the Ravenclaw common room. Perhaps every Ravenclaw graduate gradually built such a space over the years. The books gave off that same warm gleam, the subtle shimmer of stored knowledge, beckoning to those with curious minds.

Naturally.

Despite the formidable shelves stuffed to bursting, what caught the eye even more were the books that refused to stay put. They wandered and lounged freely around the office, like enchanted pets with minds of their own. 

Some leaned lazily against the edge of a wide oak desk, others lay sprawled beside an inviting armchair, altogether forming a chaotic but strangely comforting mess, clearly left behind after a deep dive into their contents.

It wasn't that Professor Flitwick was careless.

(To Be Continued…)

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