No time to explain! Get in the coffin!

The sun rose and set, and time flowed on.

Hogsmeade Village seemed to remain forever peaceful and serene.

Outside the village, the trees grew lush and thick, their trunks entwined with vines that looked like the passage of time itself. Ian, holding a newly purchased axe, was busy hacking away at a tree that wasn't particularly thick.

"Little Ian, do you need my help?"

Madam Puddifoot, the owner of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, happened to be returning from outside the village at that moment. She was a stout woman with a shiny black bun pinned at the back of her head.

Seeing little Ian chopping wood, the tea shop owner didn't scold him; instead, she pulled out her wand and asked him with a cheerful smile.

"Madam Puddifoot, if you wouldn't mind, I could certainly use your help." Ian had not only underestimated his talent for Dark Magic, but he had also overestimated the physical stamina of a ten-year-old.

Who would have thought that a single tree, after half an hour of chopping, still hadn't fallen? This was not just because the axe was too small, but because Ian lacked the strength and stamina of an adult.

"Your tongue is as sweet as ever."

Madam Puddifoot was very pleased with how Ian addressed her. In truth, one only had to look at how she decorated her tea shop with such girlish flair to understand the inner workings of this plump witch's mind.

"Do you need me to help you cut it into smaller pieces?"

Madam Puddifoot didn't chant a spell; she simply gave her wand a gentle flick. The notch carved into the tree snapped open with a crack, and then, using the Levitation Charm, she suspended the wood in mid-air.

"If it's not too much trouble, I would like them in planks."

Ian looked at the spectacle before him with a touch of envy.

The wizards who lived near Hogwarts and ran shops might not be world-renowned masters, but they were certainly the elite among the wizarding population.

"As you wish."

Madam Puddifoot gave her wand a light shake, and the raw timber began to split, eventually transforming into neat, uniform planks that were stacked tidily in front of Ian.

"You really are a master of magic!"

Ian expressed his admiration from the bottom of his heart.

"Hahaha, I was top of my year back in the day, you know."

Madam Puddifoot began to show off with no small amount of pride.

"I truly hope I can be as excellent as you one day."

Ian quickly offered a flattering remark, making Madam Puddifoot beam from ear to ear. The plump witch's laughter was hearty and unpretentious, possessing the spirit of a true heroine.

"Hufflepuff would certainly welcome you."

Madam Puddifoot revealed the house she had attended.

"I hope to become an outstanding Hufflepuff myself." Ian had always been one to tell people what they wanted to hear, though, in truth, he had no objections to attending Hufflepuff.

After all, who wouldn't want to live next to the kitchens, where you could have hot pot whenever you wanted, or beef whenever the mood struck?

"Do you need me to help you carry these planks back?"

Madam Puddifoot was in high spirits and immediately became even more eager to help.

"It's not a long walk, I can take them in batches... it's good exercise." Ian didn't want to trouble her too much. He pulled out his wand and cast a spell on a portion of the planks.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Ian's spell was successful, causing a portion of the planks to float, and his panel changed accordingly.

[Successfully cast Levitation Charm, Magic Proficiency +3]

Being able to possess exceptional talent in Dark Magic meant his talent in other areas of magic couldn't be poor either; after all, Dark Magic was, at its core, still a form of magic.

Of course.

The time he had spent learning was simply too short.

A level one [Levitation Charm] could not help Ian control overly heavy objects.

"A truly commendable piece of spellwork."

Watching Ian carefully guide the floating planks toward the village, Madam Puddifoot couldn't help but express her genuine and unexpected amazement.

"You will surely become an outstanding wizard in the future."

This was Madam Puddifoot's current assessment. After all, successfully casting a [Levitation Charm] wasn't difficult, but maintaining it with such precision certainly required a certain level of skill.

Let alone a young wizard who hadn't even started school yet.

Even many second-year students couldn't manage it.

"I hope so, thank you for your help."

Ian was fully focused on controlling the spell. He waved goodbye to Madam Puddifoot with his free hand and carefully began to walk toward his small cabin.

The house Snape had arranged for him was on the edge of the village.

It wasn't far.

Along the way.

[Successfully maintained Levitation Charm, Magic Proficiency +1]

Ian gained another proficiency increase—after traveling back and forth four or five times, he finally brought all the wooden planks back to the cabin.

However.

He was still missing a shovel, deodorant, plastic sheeting, and most importantly, nails.

Hogwarts.

Slytherin Head of House office.

Snape's expression was ghastly.

As the Potions Master of Hogwarts and a world-renowned expert in the field, he had actually ruined a batch of Felix Felicis today—a potion so simple it couldn't be simpler—just like those foolish Gryffindors!

"It's all Dumbledore's fault!"

Snape hadn't been sleeping well lately, and it was precisely for this reason that he had missed the stirring time for the Felix Felicis today, dooming a potion that should have been perfect to irreparable flaws.

Snape blamed this failure entirely on Dumbledore. The reason was simple: he couldn't sleep because of a single sentence Dumbledore had said to him a few days ago.

"It is not that he needs you, but that you need him."

Although Snape had angrily denounced Dumbledore for talking nonsense at the time, the sentence had lingered in his mind for days, impossible to shake off.

"I don't need anyone!"

Snape still firmly believed this.

But he also knew.

If he wanted to dispel the nightmares haunting him, he had to do something to prove himself.

And so.

Looking at the Felix Felicis, which was no longer perfect but still simmering, Snape's expression shifted repeatedly. After a long while, he finally seemed to make up his mind and put on his coat.

That robe that looked as if it were never washed.

"If you can't even take care of yourself, how can you talk about learning magic..."

Snape seemed to be making excuses for his own neglect over the past few days. He hurried out of his office, encountering Argus Filch on the way, who was inspecting some equipment.

He was the caretaker of Hogwarts, a Squib who patrolled at night and fancied himself the head of discipline—a man who might be considered pathetic, but certainly not worthy of pity.

"Good morning, Professor Snape."

Filch was always very enthusiastic when facing professors.

However.

Snape didn't even glance at him.

He walked straight past him.

The smile on Filch's face became slightly awkward, but he dared not lash out, only daring to mutter to himself while clutching his cat once Snape had walked far away.

"I hope he hasn't starved to death yet."

Snape arrived at Hogsmeade Village.

He stood in front of the cabin.

He didn't need a key; he pulled out his wand and easily opened the deadbolted door... it had actually been locked three times? Snape was somewhat puzzled by the caution of the person living inside.

Security in Hogsmeade Village had always been fine.

With a blank expression, he lifted his leg and stepped inside.

The next moment.

The Slytherin Head of House at Hogwarts immediately understood why the door had been locked three times. His face, which never changed, contorted as he lost his composure.

"What are you doing!!?"

Snape's voice turned as shrill as an oboe.

He couldn't be blamed.

Because he saw a scene he found unbelievable, one he had never imagined he would see in this cabin—the floor of the room had been dug into a massive, gaping pit!

A young wizard was hunched over a crooked, makeshift coffin, struggling to shove two incredibly rotten corpses into it.

Inside the dilapidated room.

There were three or four other corpses, scattered about and in varying states of decay, lying there quietly—damn it! Was this the kind of horrific scene one should see in Hogsmeade Village!?

"Mr. Prince!"

Snape's face turned livid.

He saw the young wizard look up in terror. Startled by the sudden intrusion, the boy even tore the arm off one of the corpses, which only made Snape's face turn even more ashen.

"I need a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve me sending you to Azkaban!!"

It was almost a roar.