The closer the Crystal Ball got to Harry...
The more intense the red light it emitted, the more dazzling it became, as if even the sunlight was being driven away, and the entire deserted corner seemed to be tinged with red.
It is like a flame that has been lit, dazzling and eye-catching.
at the same time.
Ian continued to move the Crystal Ball closer.
The scar on Harry's forehead also seemed to be responding to some special call.
The lightning-shaped scar also flashed red light, the fluctuations of the light like breathing, perfectly synchronized with the red light of the Crystal Ball, forming an indescribable synchronized flashing.
"Interesting." Ian's eyes narrowed slightly. He keenly sensed that this situation was definitely not normal, and there might be some rather interesting secrets hidden behind it.
"What... what's going on?" Harry Potter clearly sensed something was wrong; his scar was burning hot, which made him panic and raise his hand to cover his forehead.
"I think it's some kind of minor accident? Related to the formation of your scar." Ian's gaze fell on the Crystal Ball in his hand. Inside the deep Crystal Ball Crystal Ball, something seemed to be quietly wriggling. It was a pair of faintly visible hands, pitch black, as if reaching out from endless darkness.
He was also clutching something twisted in his hand.
The scene is not clear.
But a blurry outline can still be vaguely seen.
Although the hands were blurry, Ian could feel their strong presence.
They sometimes coalesce into form, and sometimes vanish without a trace, like phantoms in the wind, elusive and unpredictable. The only certainty is that these black claws definitely do not belong to humans.
" Malfoy is really... somewhat unexpected." Ian didn't know where Malfoy's Crystal Ball came from, but he was certain that Crystal Ball was related to Voldemort.
Considering the Malfoy family's situation and the anomaly in Harry Potter's scar, even the slow-witted young Wizard would likely have noticed something amiss.
certainly.
What he was most curious about now was why Malfoy had given him such a Crystal Ball. A detection tool that could reveal a Horcrux of Voldemort's was definitely a betrayal to Voldemort.
"What Malfoy?"
Harry Potter covered his scars with both hands.
He felt not only that the scar was burning, but his brain itself seemed to be scalding hot. This feeling, even worse than a high fever, made the eleven-year-old boy quite panicked.
We can't compete.
He cared more about what Ian had said earlier.
" Ian, you said this Crystal Ball is related to my scar? Is it related to that unnamed demon who killed my parents and murdered so many people?" Harry Potter shook his drowsy head vigorously, his expression immediately becoming serious at the mention of his family's massacre.
Having always lived in the Muggle World, Harry Potter knew nothing of the chaos that had once plagued the Wizarding World. He only knew that his parents had died at the hands of the person who had given him this scar.
Although many people praised him as the Boy Who Lived and lauded him for defeating the evil dark Wizard, he only remembered a few fragmented images.
It was a scene where everything was bathed in green light.
To put it bluntly...
He didn't even know what his enemy looked like. That's why, when Ian mentioned his enemy, Harry Potter immediately looked up at Ian.
"That's not a demon, just... a mortal being." Ian's response was to correct Harry's choice of words; he quite liked some of the phrasing used by the younger version of Dumbledore.
Can you tell me more information?
His eyes were filled with longing for the past.
"Of course, no problem. However, I think we should first investigate what this Crystal Ball is trying to reveal..." Just as Ian was trying to prioritize things for Harry Potter...
Suddenly, beads of blood with a rusty smell seeped from the Crystal Ball in his hand. The Crystal Ball continued to burn in his palm, but this was not unbearable for the young Wizard.
Harry Potter, whose forehead looked like it was about to burst into flames, was completely different.
"Ah!!"
Blood is dripping from the Crystal Ball ball.
at the same time.
Harry Potter's eyes also suddenly changed.
His once clear, emerald-green pupils instantly transformed into snake-like vertical pupils.
Ferocious and terrifying.
It seemed unusually strange.
"Stop."
Harry forced out a breathy sound through his teeth, and black slime seeped from his scar.
"It's roaring... it's furious..."
Harry Potter, who was constantly screaming in pain, let out an ambiguous shout. Then, he clutched his head with both hands, his face contorted in agony, and collapsed to the ground, rolling around frantically.
It felt like my brain was about to explode.
The Mr. Savior groaned in pain.
" Harry! Are you alright?" Ian was also startled by Harry Potter's sudden reaction. He quickly took out a Potions bottle and knelt down to feed Harry the Potter.
The pain was so intense that Harry was rolling around on the ground. Ian took out his Potter and used a spell to fix Harry Potter, who was spinning and rolling further and further away on the ground, in place.
"What's this?"
Harry Potter's stray hairs were stuck to his scars by sweat.
He clenched his teeth, pounding his head with both hands, his expression one of extreme pain. When he met Ian's gaze, the vertical pupils in his eyes shone even brighter.
"It's my special Potions, the Ancestor's Happy Soup," Ian explained, while forcefully prying open Harry's Potter jaw so tightly clenched it might not even close when he was about to be assaulted.
"Coo coo coo~"
After Ian forcefully poured the entire bottle of Potions into Harry's Potter, the effect was immediate; Harry Potter, who had previously seemed on the verge of death, instantly calmed down.
"It seems to be working..."
Harry Potter was soaked to the bone and extremely weak. Perhaps only he knew how terrifying the feeling of his head about to explode had been.
The Savior's fingers dug deep into the flesh of his own head.
At this moment, blood was dripping rapidly from both cheeks.
"Of course, Potions I produce are top-quality Potions." Ian looked at the Crystal Ball in his hand again, and the color emanating from the Crystal Ball turned into a faint white light once more.
He became increasingly certain of his suspicions.
"Can you teach me? I'm afraid I really need this magical Potions." Harry Potter was somewhat worried that he might suddenly develop a similar illness again in the future.
"I'm afraid not, Harry. The ingredients for this Potions are all contraband. You can't control it." Ian wasn't being stingy; he just felt that the Mr. Savior shouldn't be led astray by him.
The Wizarding World has no need for the Old Nine Gates.
"Is that so... alright..." Harry Potter was a Slytherin House student, and he had already heard bits and pieces of Ian's "lawlessness" from his classmates.
Ask yourself honestly.
Someone like him, without any connections, probably wouldn't dare to concoct any illegal drugs. After all, the prestige of Half-blood of the seven surnames is something that a mere Potter like him can't compare to.
Children without parents tend to mature early.
Harry Potter clearly understood that in the world of business, influence and connections matter, and that just because others can do something doesn't mean everyone can.
"Can I buy a few more bottles with Galleons to keep on hand?" It has to be said that after weighing the costs of breaking the law, Harry Potter felt that purchasing this potion was much less risky.
He may be lacking love.
But it has no shortage of Galleons.
"This isn't about Galleons or Galleons; it's about whether you need to come with me to see Dumbledore. Treating the symptoms isn't as good as addressing the root cause; we need to find a way to resolve the problem you're facing."
Ian unusually declined the opportunity to earn Galleons.
He wasn't without sense of propriety.
Judging from Harry Potter's situation, some things may have exceeded his "prophetic" judgment, most likely due to the butterfly effect caused by the premature destruction of many Voldemort Horcrux.
"What hidden danger... do I need to see the headmaster? Is my condition that serious?" Harry Potter felt increasingly uneasy after seeing Ian's serious expression.
"Do you remember the whispered scream you just made?" Ian didn't dare overestimate Harry Potter's courage, so he chose to avoid mentioning that Potter himself was Horcrux Harry.
What bothered him even more was Harry Potter's earlier screams and whispers.
"Um... I don't remember..."
Harry Potter's eyes, now back to normal, revealed an extremely bewildered expression. He seemed to be Hard Work to recall, and raised his hand to cover his still-bleeding head.
"I think I saw some images, a prisoner with chains around his neck, he had no face... his eyes were filled with emotionless coldness and madness."
Harry Potter's face was tense as he struggled to recall his memories—suddenly, his body began to tremble, and his expression became visibly panicked.
No! He's getting closer to me!
He's going to tear me apart!
Harry Potter's eyes flickered a few times, but they didn't revert to their previous vertical pupils. Like a light bulb with low battery, they flickered illusoryly for a few moments before going out again.
It must be said that Ian's potion is indeed a targeted drug.
"Alright, alright, stop thinking about it."
Seeing Harry Potter's pale face and his Potter Ian tried to stop Harry from touching the thing in his mind.
"Oh."
The Mr. Savior agreed readily.
However.
He nodded.
Instead, he simply rolled his eyes and chose to shut down the computer on the spot.
He fainted right in front of Ian.
"..."
Fortunately, the young Wizard reacted quickly and caught Harry Potter the back of the head with his foot.
"I didn't tell you to stop thinking so completely," Ian said helplessly. He glanced at the clock on the wall; there were still about twenty minutes before class.
"Wake up?"
Having failed to heal Harry by slapping Potter twice, Ian could only use the Wingardium Leviosa to pick Harry up and take off on his Little long legs towards the Hospital Wing Potter.
He left the corner where the two were talking.
In the hallway outside.
Since it was almost time for class, there were many young Wizard coming and going. They were all drawn to Ian's impressive display, and one after another, the young Wizard showed expressions of astonishment.
no way.
Who can blame them when Harry Potter's face was still bleeding from the scratches he had made?
This is how we've come this far.
Blood continued to drip onto the ground.
It looks incredibly frightening.
"Isn't that our Mr. Savior?"
"He looks like he's been beaten to death. What kind of attack did he suffer?"
"Hiss! Don't you understand yet! Look who's carrying Harry Potter! The New Generation Dark Lord is declaring his authority and invincibility..."
Discussion among classmates was inevitable.
However.
For some comments that Ian didn't want to hear, he simply raised his hand and cast a [ Tongue-Tying Charm ] on those rumor-mongers, temporarily depriving them of their ability to fabricate stories.
"I was just trying to help! I was rescuing my classmate!" he explained himself. Some people chose to believe him, while others nodded frantically, their survival instincts clearly visible.
"..."
Ian ignored the group of drama queens.
He led Harry Potter straight to the School infirmary.
"Oh my God! By Merlin! What terrible thing has happened!"
When Ian magically carried the unconscious Harry to the Hospital Wing, the curtains of the twelve hospital beds moved without wind, and Madam Pomfrey, who was preparing potions, paused for a moment when she saw who it was.
"I'm not quite sure either."
Ian shrugged and handed Harry Potter to Madam Pomfrey.
"It seems to be due to excessive mental strain."
He made his own judgment— Madam Pomfrey also quickly checked Harry Potter's condition and nodded in approval of Ian's diagnosis.
Upon seeing this, the young Wizard immediately offered a treatment plan.
" Mental Stabilizing Draught might work, but I think Soul Stabilizing Draught might be more suitable for him." He already had a clear understanding of Harry Potter's situation.
"What you said is fine, but..." Madam Pomfrey carried Harry Potter onto the hospital bed, feeding Harry Potter while looking up at the young Wizard.
"What he needs more is Three-No Potion keeps him away from danger." Madam Pomfrey looked at Ian with a strange gaze, a mixture of astonishment and inexplicable annoyance. " Mr. Prince, can you explain why Mr. Potter's Magic Power Fluctuation so deathly still, as if kissed by Satan?"
It's obvious.
Madam Pomfrey realized that Harry Potter had drunk some kind of potion that Suppressing magic.
"It was to save him; he was in a state of near explosion." Ian shrugged helplessly, feeling it wasn't appropriate to tell Madam Pomfrey about Voldemort.
" Magic Power Out of Control?"
Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey was frowning, offered a plausible excuse.
"Possible?"
Ian gave an ambiguous answer.
Madam Pomfrey, however, paid no heed to this. She began cleaning the wounds of the unconscious Harry Potter, lamenting, "The poor child, he's in so much pain he's dug his face apart."
"Could you tell me where you met Mr. Potter, and what accident happened to Potter?" She believed that Harry Potter's unusual behavior couldn't be without reason.
"Perhaps he stumbled upon Unclean things while out for a night stroll." Ian's eyes narrowed slightly, his words cryptic. "You know, Castle always harbor dangerous secrets."
After he finished speaking...
I looked up at the time again.
"I have to go to class, Harry's in your care." Ian didn't wait for Madam Pomfrey's reply and jogged away from the School infirmary. As the Medical room door closed behind him, the flickering torches on the stone walls of the corridor stretched Ian's shadow into a long, distorted Giant. Two younger students hurried past, carrying their " Magical Drafts and Potions " textbook.
Their whispers were especially clear under the vaulted ceiling.
" Potter was definitely killed by him!"
"He's trying to establish his authority! To tell us that there is no Savior in this world!"
" Dumbledore won't punish him; he might even help him cover up the truth. After all, he has a Phoenix!"
The two students clearly didn't see Ian was standing not far to the side.
They were hurrying along with their heads down.
Ian couldn't help but turn around and look at them several times after what they said—and just then, a trembling Slytherin bumped into his arms like a startled Niffler.
"I'm so sorry, Senior Prince!"
As the new student retreated, he knocked over the spear in the armored man's hand. The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed in the empty corridor. He didn't care about cleaning up the mess behind him, but looked at Ian with a terrified expression.
"I didn't mean to! Please! Don't kill me!"
It's obvious.
The Slytherin was terrified. His reaction wasn't unreasonable; he had entered the house most afraid of Ian, and the rumors that Ian had killed the Savior were constantly being updated.
"Just be more careful when you walk next time. Do I look that scary?" Ian reached out and straightened the boy's crooked tie, his fingertips brushing against the tie clip inlaid with emeralds.
The freshman was trembling all over, his legs felt weak.
"..."
Seeing this, Ian could only sigh and gesture for the younger student to leave quickly—and so, the kid who bumped into Ian immediately took off running away.
"What should I do! What should I do! I think I've offended Prince!" He grabbed his roommate's arm, his voice trembling with tears, as he reached the classroom door.
"Huh? Then you're dead!"
His roommate gave him an answer he didn't want to hear.
"No!"
The little Wizard's desperate cry.
And at that very moment...
"You look very scared?"
The voice of Miss Beaver rang out.
"Fear dilates the pupils by thirty-seven percent." Hermione Granger appeared at the door carrying her textbooks. Slytherin House freshmen would attend classes at the same time as Gryffindor House.
"You should give him Dragon Blood Ink." Hermione knelt down to help him pick up his textbooks. "As mentioned on page 214 of * The Humanoid Weaknesses: The Secret of Prince, Ian tends to have a good impression of people who give him gifts."
She finally got to read the book she had longed for.
However.
This potentially useful suggestion didn't receive any thanks.
"What Mudblood know about Pureblood tradition!"
The new student suddenly pushed Hermione away.
A twisted pride burst forth from his reddened eyes. The word struck the air like a curse, and many young Wizard in the corridor stopped and looked in his direction.
"Who is uttering such evil and despicable slanderous words!"
The one who reacted the most was Miss Greengrass, who happened to be passing by.
She was completely stunned when she heard the word.
Her long, light golden hair was almost standing on end because of her anger.
Damn it! Who are you trying to kill?!
Daphne rushed straight to the freshman, grabbed his clothes and shook him wildly, roaring at him like a provoked tigress.
You need to apologize! You must apologize to this woman!
She seemed to have transformed into a messenger of justice.
The freshmen were caught off guard.
" Miss Greengrass, but... isn't this what we all agree on?" He came from a branch of a Pureblood families, and his understanding of the Wizarding World was not up-to-date.
"Who agrees with you! Slander! This is blatant slander!" Daphne's voice was incredibly loud, and she even turned to look at Hermione, the Girl Ian had brought to the school.
"Don't listen to his nonsense! The Greengrass Family sponsors twenty-three Muggle research projects! My father even rejected a proposal to ban Muggle-born admissions in Wizengamot just last week!"
She seemed eager to prove her family's " Concept of equality."
His tone was excited.
They practically wanted to pull out a megaphone and announce it to everyone.
Miss Daphne was being paranoid.
He thought Hermione was someone Ian had sent to test him.
When PTSD flares up.
On the other side.
Instead of going to class, the young Wizard went to the abandoned washroom, opened the Hidden door with Parseltongue, and crawled down without hesitation.
This is in conjunction with the nighttime screams mentioned by the young Wizard earlier.
Ian had a premonition.
then.
To verify my suspicions.
He did not go to the Underground Palace.
Instead, they went to the Chamber of Secrets of Secrets in Slytherin.
In the dim candlelight, he slowly stepped into this space forgotten by time. The air in the Chamber of Secrets was heavy and oppressive, as if even breathing became difficult. Ancient runes were carved on the surrounding stone walls, shimmering with a faint green light in the dimness, as if some unknown power was surging within them.
Suddenly, a pungent smell of blood hit his nostrils, causing Ian to frown. He followed the smell and rushed directly to its source.
Oh no! My darling!
The little Wizard let out a desperate, mournful cry.
All I saw was...
Just as he had a bad feeling, a huge Basilisk lay silently in the center of the Chamber of Secrets, its body stiff and its eyes closed, never to open again.
This Basilisk was once the guardian of the Chamber of Secrets.
Its scales shimmered with a cold light in the sunlight.
The scales were covered in completely dried blood, and the body was covered in wounds, clearly indicating a fierce battle. Most heartbreakingly, the Basilisk's body was shriveled up.
It was a sight where flesh and blood had been devoured. Moreover, Ian seemed to sense an indescribable emptiness, as if the Basilisk's soul had also been completely consumed by some force.
last night.
Something significant did indeed happen here.
(End of this chapter)