The sun rose over the horizon.
As dawn broke the stillness of the morning,
the sky gradually took on a gentle hue, as if touched by nature's most delicate brush. The first rays of sunlight appeared, and all things seemed to stir from their slumber.
Ian was no exception.
[Latin mastered, Language Mastery +1]
[Native American mastered, Language Mastery +1]
[Chinese mastered, Language Mastery +2]
Morning reading was a daily necessity. No matter how many other things he had to do, Ian almost never forgot to improve his Language Mastery.
There were no shortcuts on the path to the Voice of All Things. He could only build his knowledge by studying different languages. Even revisiting his native tongue could still teach Ian something.
"Syrup tart and yesterday's black tea. Another day on the road to diabetes." Ian had brewed a whole pot of tea the night before, but Dumbledore had only drunk a small cup.
He ate breakfast with yesterday's tea. Outside the cabin, the wizards who lived on the street had already begun their day.
"Tom, the one who grows pumpkins? His house was making those noises again last night. What a shameless old man. I can't imagine why any witch would fall for him!"
"Maybe he's unusually gifted?"
"Did you hear? Two groups got into a fight at the Hog's Head Inn last night. One wizard ended up with a pig's tail attached to his backside! The Aurors didn't even manage to catch the culprit!"
"I saw it last night. Someone stole the underwear Jenny had hung out to dry!"
The villagers never ran out of gossip.
Ian couldn't help thinking they were full of baffling contradictions.
Those secret affairs that took place in the dark never seemed to escape the old wizards' notice, yet no one had noticed the commotion he had made summoning a horde of corpses that night.
Well.
Maybe no one cared?
As usual, he wandered around the village. Hearing no rumors about the fire he had set, Ian breathed a small sigh of relief and returned to the cabin to dig out the Potions books.
"It's about time I returned them."
Keeping his word was one of Ian's few virtues. Using the leftover planks, he put together a box and neatly packed all the Potions books inside.
"Off we go."
Using the same head that had been Phoenix-bumped the night before, Ian balanced the box on top of it like a porter carrying cargo, steadied it with both hands, and headed for the bookstore.
There was no helping it.
He hadn't finished growing yet, and the box was too awkward to hold in his arms.
Following the winding cobblestone street, he passed the quill shop that had lost a sale because Ian had been so diligent, and spotted the secondhand bookstore's quiet storefront.
He didn't go in right away. Instead, he waited on the street corner for over half an hour. Just as he had observed over the past few days, the bookstore's owner, Kraft, left right on time.
He wore a trench coat.
He wore a hat.
He hurried along.
Ian had no idea where Kraft went at the same time every day. After watching him Apparate away, Ian balanced the box of books on his head again and entered the bookstore.
The air was filled with a faint smell of ink and the distinctive scent of paper.
And dust.
The German Girl was still sitting quietly behind the counter, absorbed in the book in her hands. She seemed not to have noticed Ian's arrival.
"Miss Grindelwald, I'm keeping my promise and returning the books."
As Ian walked,
the wooden floorboards creaked beneath his feet.
His voice drew the girl back from her sea of knowledge.
"That's a little surprising."
Aurora Grindelwald's delicate face was like fine porcelain, yet it was outshone by the allure of her heterochromatic eyes. They seemed to shimmer with a captivating light.
"We're friends, and you thought I'd run off with the books!"
Ian looked at her in disbelief.
"These secondhand books are no match for our brief but steadfast friendship."
He had always been good at saying what people wanted to hear. It was a skill he had honed as an orphan.
"..."
Aurora fell silent for a moment.
"I just didn't expect you to finish copying these books before the school year began." She explained herself, but didn't deny what Ian had said about their friendship.
This was a young man who longed for friendship.
Ian had sensed it the moment they first met. Thought Perception was somewhat restrained under his control, but that didn't mean it had lost all its usefulness.
"See this hand?"
Ian set the box on the counter.
He raised his hand.
The German Girl nodded and leaned in to examine it carefully.
"Other than the long fingers and prominent knuckles, there's nothing special about it."
A moment later,
Aurora gave her verdict.
"But it's a hand operating at peak efficiency. Seven years' worth of Potions textbooks are nothing compared to the miracles it has worked before."
Ian's thoughts seemed to drift back to a summer in his past life.
"Coming back from the dead—that's a miracle."
Aurora shook her head, a trace of sadness passing through her mismatched eyes.
"..."
Ian didn't know what to say.
"How did you like that book?" Aurora abruptly changed the subject.
It was obvious.
She meant Secrets of the Darkest Art, the book she had given him.
"It's incredible. I really like your gift."
Ian gave her a thumbs-up.
"Then where's my return gift?"
Aurora's expression was as cool as ever, but a hint of anticipation appeared in her eyes.
"..."
Ian had actually forgotten about that.
"Next time, for sure!"
He grinned awkwardly.
"Mm."
The girl didn't seem disappointed. She simply nodded in silence.
"I'd better put these books back among the stacks before one of your relatives suddenly comes home." Ian picked up the box and began stuffing the books into the disorderly piles, which looked exactly as they had before.
It wasn't much trouble.
Soon,
Ian was holding the empty box and was about to return to the counter to say goodbye, and to promise Aurora that he'd prepare a heartfelt return gift for her when school started.
"Clack, clack, clack..."
The floorboards creaked.
Ian looked up from beside the bookcase on the left.
There he saw
a man in black robes and a hood, his face covered in scars. He held a wand and swept a sharp, vicious gaze across the bookstore.
He glanced at Ian first, his eyes full of disdain.
Then,
his gaze settled on Aurora.
"The information was right. You really are here."
The man raised his wand and pointed it at Aurora.
"Little Grindelwald, come out and come with me. Your grandfather owes me something, and I'll use you to get it back from him."
The man had clearly come with bad intentions.
Hiding behind the bookcase, Ian's heart pounded.
An enemy had come calling?
Of all the melodramatic situations to stumble into, why this one?
"My grandfather owes a lot of people things, but anyone bold enough to come collect..." Aurora didn't seem afraid at all. "Clearly isn't much of a person."
She even dared to taunt the man who had barged into the bookstore.
She made no move, sitting there with her usual cool expression.
"You sharp-tongued brat. You think I don't dare attack you here? You're not in Hogwarts Castle now!"
The wand-wielding man looked annoyed.
The tip of his wand began to glow faintly.
"Hiss..."
Hiding behind the bookcase, Ian felt a surge of excitement for some reason, along with... an urge to jump into the fray. But his reason kept the impulse firmly in check.
Should he help her with a sneak attack?
One Avada ought to do the trick, even if it was only a level-one spell. But the whole hero-saves-the-beauty routine felt unbearably clichéd!
"I'm a witness. He might not let me go. That man saw me." Ian weighed his options, his left hand already reaching for his wand.
If he had a choice,
he certainly wouldn't want to get involved in someone else's feud.
But
if he passed up this chance while the man was distracted by Aurora and underestimating him because of his age, he probably wouldn't get another opportunity to catch him off guard.
Trust in a wizard's mercy?
He'd be better off trusting the wand in his hand!
Just as Ian made up his mind and prepared to act,
"Ah!!!!"
Without warning,
blue flames suddenly burst from the man's body.
The adult wizard
didn't have even a moment to react.
The flames engulfed him completely, and in the blink of an eye, he and his wand—which could have fetched a decent price—had become a pile of gray ash on the floor.
"Fiendfyre!"
Ian cried out.
He stared at the counter in disbelief. The girl had lowered a wand that Ian hadn't even noticed her take out, watching the vanishing flames with a calm gaze.
"Could you get me a broom? It's behind the bookcase beside you." Despite having just killed someone with terrifying magic, Aurora remained perfectly composed.
It was hard to imagine.
A child who had only just reached school age had silently cast such advanced magic!
"Wouldn't Scourgify work better?"
Ian froze.
"I haven't learned it yet."
Aurora's answer was short and clear.
All right.
Another child who was good at only one thing.
Ian understood.
"Uh, I'll look for the broom."
Ian wasn't exactly calm after seeing a living person die right in front of him. Still, he wasn't the sort of righteous person who would demand to know why she had killed him.
The wizard had clearly come with bad intentions.
Mercy wouldn't solve anything.
Besides,
who questioned a killer?
Did he want to die?
"I didn't see anything, so don't think about killing me to cover it up!" Ian carried the broom over to the filthy patch of floor, worried about his own situation.
So much for the hero saving the beauty.
How had things turned into the hero being afraid of the beauty?
"I wouldn't hurt a friend. Besides..."
Aurora went over to where Ian had been, picked up the wooden box he had dropped, and crouched beside him. She gestured for him to sweep the ashes into it.
"Now we're accomplices."
Just like when they'd first met,
the German Girl seemed strangely attached to this sort of relationship.
Three thousand words!