The Place Where Dreams Begin

The city was veiled in a light haze.

London's smog made it seem as though layers of gauze floated through the air.

On the quiet street,

Ian was still immersed in the sorrow of parting.

Though he had always looked forward to truly learning magic, when he actually left the Orphanage to pursue his studies, he still found it hard to part with this place and its people.

After all, this was where Ian had lived for eleven years since transmigrating.

"Heh, it seems, Mr. Prince, that you know quite well how to make yourself liked."

Snape's voice broke the stifling atmosphere. For some reason, his seemingly ordinary words, paired with that drawn-out tone of his, always carried an oddly sarcastic edge.

Ian did not respond.

He merely dragged his suitcase along behind Snape.

He was feeling rather down.

He did not feel like spending the effort to deal with the professor in front of him. After all, as far as Hogwarts' Potions Master was concerned, no matter how well-behaved a student was, they would not earn his Good impression.

Faced with Ian's silence,

Snape spoke again.

"You left all your money for them. That is not something a clever person would do." Clearly, Ian's little actions earlier had not escaped the notice of Snape, a wizard.

"I kept a little. I can go... go to the appropriate place and exchange it for wizarding currency." Ian looked up at Snape, who seemed rather different from what he had expected.

Wasn't he supposed to be a man of few words?

"That means you are not completely stupid."

Snape seemed to snort through his nose.

"You know you are merely an orphan taken in here, the sort who needs looking after, don't you?" Snape slowed his pace and narrowed his eyes at Ian beside him.

"My health was not very good when I was little. Perhaps because my magic had awakened, I was frail and sickly." Ian did not answer Snape's question directly.

"Ms. Elena would take me to the hospital in town. The Orphanage was in much worse financial shape back then than it is now, but she would still buy expensive medicine for me."

"The food at the Orphanage was also very scarce. Whenever I was sick, Catherine would split half her bread with me, and Daniel would run outside to find medicinal herbs for me."

"Though Daniel's witch-doctor grandmother was poisoned to death by her own medicine, that did not stop Daniel from believing that as long as I took his medicine, I would become strong and healthy."

"And Mia was even younger than I was. Whenever I got sick, she would pray to God for me all night long. Everyone was very, very good to me."

Ian's voice was calm and gentle.

"Tsk, tsk. Are you trying to move me?"

Snape remained unmoved.

"No, Professor."

Ian did not expect Snape to understand his heart. He had heard that those who became Death Eaters did not understand what love was, so he could only explain it to Snape from another angle.

"They have thought a great deal for my sake, so when I have the ability, I naturally need to think for theirs as well." Ian spoke softly, his voice exceptionally firm.

"This is my rightful responsibility."

His childish voice echoed through the empty street. In the smog, the small figure followed Snape. His calm words left Snape, wrapped in black robes, silent for a long time.

"Tsk, tsk. You are not very old, but you certainly have plenty of principles. You are worrying about things that are none of your business."

After a long while,

Snape let out a mocking remark without changing his expression.

"Though a wealthy good person has been anonymously donating for all these years, the purchasing power of the pound has fallen sharply lately. Without that money, everyone would have a very hard time."

The reason Ian set up a stall on the street every day, aside from improving his psychology proficiency, was naturally to earn a little more money and ease Ms. Elena's burdens.

Even if Hogwarts had never happened, this money would eventually have become eggs, milk, vegetables, and meat, which he would bring back to the Orphanage by other means.

Honestly, an eleven-year-old child did not need much money for himself. Ian was not some Holy Mother, but he certainly was not some ungrateful Sea God Douluo either.

"So, you want me to call you the Savior of the Orphanage?"

Snape still looked at Ian from the corner of his eye, his sluggish tone making one want to punch him.

"No, Professor. If you could show some generosity and donate a little money to the Orphanage, then you would be the true Savior. You would be the true hero."

Yes.

After rambling on for so long,

Ian's fox tail had finally revealed itself.

He turned his green eyes toward Snape. He thought his eye color was the same as Lily Potter's—perhaps that might have some effect, however small?

Besides,

though he still had not figured out what Dumbledore's earlier words had meant, he had indeed sensed guilt in Snape through Mind Perception.

If he could use that to get Snape to donate some money, it would absolutely be a blessing for the Orphanage—after all, Ian's meager funds could only last for a while.

But Snape, standing here now, was Hogwarts' Potions Master. Even the tiniest amount that slipped through his fingers would be enough to benefit the Orphanage endlessly.

Never underestimate the financial strength of a Potions Master.

"You really are a..."

Snape stopped walking.

His black eyes fixed on Ian.

They held a sharpness and an inscrutable complexity.

"Qualified Slytherin."

Clearly,

Ian's little trick could not possibly fool Snape. He had almost instantly understood what Ian had ultimately been trying to achieve after spending so long trying to tug at his heartstrings.

"But unfortunately, you do not know me. I am not a good person, and I will not donate even a single Galleon to a ridiculous Muggle Orphanage."

Snape sneered.

Then, under Ian's disappointed gaze, he started walking again.

He led Ian into an empty alley.

"Drink it."

Snape suddenly took out a bottle of green potion.

His words allowed no refusal.

"Hmm?"

Ian, dragging his suitcase, froze slightly. Looking at the green potion in the bottle, which seemed to still be bubbling, he swallowed and forced an awkward smile.

"Professor, what is this...?"

He felt that the other man wanted to poison him. Even if it was not something deadly, it would probably leave him with Psychological Trauma. Everyone knew that wizarding potions tasted worse than the last.

"You do not think that if I wanted to harm you, I would need to resort to some trick, first deceiving you into drinking a potion, do you?" Snape looked at Ian with contempt.

Well,

that did make sense.

"I just thought it might not taste very good."

Ian replied weakly.

However,

Snape merely stopped and stared at him expressionlessly.

"Fine, fine."

Gritting his teeth,

Ian took the potion.

He swallowed it all in one gulp like medicine—eh? The aftertaste was not bitter at all. Instead, it was sweet, like coconut milk, smooth and delicious!

That was not right, was it?

Hadn't they said Snape's potions each tasted worse than the last!?

Ian was still savoring the potion.

"I have never seen such a cowardly fool as you!"

Snape suddenly reached out. One hand seized Ian by the neck, while the other swung his wand and cast Apparition—their figures vanished from the alley at once.

Ian's vision blurred.

When his sight became clear again,

everything around him had changed completely.

Before him was a cobblestone street that seemed to stretch straight to the horizon. All sorts of different shops lined both sides of the road. People in strange, extravagant clothing laughed and played in the street.

Feather dusters swept dust by themselves, ownerless brooms cleared rubbish from the streets, and owls, snakes, rats... all kinds of animals sat obediently and adorably on wizards' shoulders.

A scene he had once seen only in movies now appeared before Ian without warning, in a way dozens of times more astonishing than any film.

He knew.

This was Diagon Alley.

For him, and for many others... this was where dreams began.