Hogwarts Raven

It had to be said: Despite Professor Snape's sharp tongue, unpleasant demeanor, and less-than-charming appearance, the dear professor did have his redeeming qualities.

For example, he had left Ian with plenty of gold Galleons. Even though today's shopping spree for all the essential school supplies had cost a considerable amount, the purse – clearly enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm – still held an astonishing fortune of 150 gold Galleons!

Don't underestimate that number. A typical Ministry of Magic employee would need two full months of work to earn that much, assuming they saved every Knut without spending a single coin.

Consider this: Even the Weasleys couldn't afford to buy a wand worth just seven Galleons. So, the sum of 150 gold Galleons was enough to make any wizard, young or old, envious.

"Seriously? Even if I'm starting as an orphan-for-plot-convenience, this feels excessive," Ian muttered to himself, growing increasingly suspicious. Could his mother have been... Lily Potter's clone? No way. It's only the 1990s! Neither the Muggle nor wizarding worlds had developed such technology yet!

"But that alone is way too terrifying to think about! Let's not go there!"

Though unsettled by the thought, Ian set aside his doubts to focus on learning magic. After moving all his belongings into the neat little wooden house Snape had provided, Ian eagerly took out his wand and picked up the quintessential Hogwarts textbook: The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1.

As dusk fell, the last traces of sunlight disappeared over the horizon. When darkness settled in, Ian decided to attempt the simplest and most frequently used spell.

"Lumos!"

Following the instructions in the textbook, Ian focused his mind, synchronized his thoughts with his wand, and took a deep breath before softly uttering the incantation.

The tip of his wand flickered with a faint glow. It was fleeting, vanishing almost instantly. Clearly, this was an unsuccessful attempt at the charm.

But Ian felt no discouragement. Instead, his eyes gleamed with excitement. When it came to learning, most people struggled with progress, often finding it difficult to measure their improvement or stay motivated. But for Ian, this wasn't a problem at all.

[Lumos (Level 0): 3/50]

With just one failed attempt, a new skill appeared on Ian's personal status panel – a process he had experienced more than once before.

"Looks like my talent for magic isn't too shabby!"

Staring at the information on his panel, Ian couldn't contain his excitement. With a single attempt, Ian gained three points of proficiency. This meant that in fewer than twenty tries, he would master the charm, reaching the most basic, introductory level.

When skill learning could be quantified in numbers, it was like a god revealing their health bar.

"Lumos!"

"Lumos!"

"Lumos!"

In the quiet wooden house, white light flickered on and off repeatedly. Each attempt was a testament to Ian's passion for magic and his anticipation for what kind of extraordinary abilities it might bring forth.

…

Hogwarts.

In the headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore, currently the most powerful wizard in the magical world, sat like an ordinary elderly man. Dressed in faded, floral-patterned pajamas, he was seated behind a solid wood desk.

The desk lamp atop his table wasn't connected to any wires yet emitted a steady glow akin to that of an old-fashioned oil lamp. At the center of the desk lay an open book.

'Aurora Grindelwald'

Dumbledore's gaze was fixed on a particular name among the many illustrious entries. Beneath the silver lenses of his glasses, his eyes shone with a mix of wisdom and weariness.

"Tap. Tap. Tap."

His fingers drummed rhythmically against the desk as though deep in thought. For someone his age to stay awake at this hour, he clearly had matters weighing on his mind.

Suddenly—

"Click! Clunk!"

The sound of gears shifting echoed through the room.

Dumbledore didn't look up.

Through the doorway of the headmaster's office strode a figure in haste.

"Albus, you didn't tell me Ian is a natural-born Legilimens!" Snape's face was stormy, his tone accusatory.

The walls of the office were lined with portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses, most of whom covered their ears at the loud outburst. A few, however, leaned forward in their frames, eager to eavesdrop.

"I believe some things are best discovered on one's own; it makes the surprise more delightful. Just as I haven't told Mr. Prince about the unbreakable bond between the two of you," Dumbledore replied at last, his voice calm yet warm.

With a gentle wave of his hand, the book on his desk closed on its own.

'The Book of Admittance.'

That was its name.

Every student admitted to Hogwarts had their name inscribed in it by the 'Quill of Acceptance'. For centuries, Hogwarts' admissions system had relied on these two remarkable alchemical creations.

Of course, the book on Dumbledore's desk wasn't the original Book of Admittance. It was likely a replica linked to the original. The true book and quill were securely stored in a locked tower that no student had ever visited.

"His condition is highly unusual!" Snape declared, standing in the center of the office, his expression tinged with unease.

"Occlumency has proven entirely ineffective against him. I've attempted with all my strength, not just once but multiple times."

"He claims he can only sense my emotions, but I believe he's capable of far more than that. Albus, I've never encountered such an irrationally powerful Legilimency."

Snape's eyes locked onto Dumbledore, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

"Some people are exceptional beyond imagination, Severus. I believe that's something you should understand quite well," Dumbledore replied calmly, his expression unchanging.

It was clear that he had long been aware of the unusual nature of Ian.

"I've encountered natural-born Legilimens before, but their mental presence was never this overwhelmingly invasive. His talent is far too dangerous!"

Snape's tone was grave, his words laced with unmistakable concern. His gaze never left Dumbledore, as though he intended to devour the older man with his glare. It even made Dumbledore shift slightly, sitting straighter in his chair.

"Exceptional talent is not inherently a bad thing," Dumbledore said gently.

"We had an agreement!" Snape retorted, his voice tinged with frustration. "He was just supposed to attend school like a normal student, graduate, and then lead an ordinary life! For Merlin's sake, you're bringing him to the school this year!"

"In times like these, the last thing he needs is to be exceptional. What he needs is a quiet, mundane life, like those unremarkable students who never attract attention!"

Snape's voice was tight, his frustration palpable.

"I believe, Severus, that Mr. Prince's life is not for any of us to dictate," Dumbledore countered, his tone firm but understanding.

He paused briefly before continuing, "Not even a parent has that right. I know what you're thinking, and I strongly advise you to abandon such notions."

(To Be Continued)