The applause in the Great Hall went on for a long time.
The display of the flight badges sent the students into a frenzy, with wave after wave of applause.
However, the reactions differed depending on the students' year--
The first- and second-years looked frustrated, while the older students began considering whether they should choose the course.
"Alchemy doesn't count toward the O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. exams," a student whispered. "If I spend too much time on it and it affects my grades, I'll be in trouble."
"But that's Professor Bones!" someone else said in a lowered voice. "He invented Duel Monsters himself!"
When the Great Hall finally returned to order, Ian spoke again.
"Before the first official lesson, I have a few things to say, especially to the Muggle-born students."
His voice was not loud, but it carried a steadying power.
"After coming to the Wizarding World, you must have noticed that wizard society is desperately lacking in entertainment.
"Everyone's 'leisure activities' amount to Quidditch, Wizard Chess, or--Duel Monsters."
Laughter rose from the students' seats.
"Yes, that game did come from me." Ian's tone was gentle. "But no one knows that its inspiration came from a Muggle comic."
Everyone froze.
His words plunged the entire Great Hall into a brief silence.
A few seconds later, discussion broke out again--a Muggle comic? A wizard actually read Muggle things?
The corners of Ian's lips lifted slightly as he continued. "When I was young, I read that comic, though I can't remember its name.
"But I remember its spirit--courage, strategy, and trust between hearts.
"So, during my time at Hogwarts, I created a real-world dueling system based on its core ideas."
He deliberately paused for a moment, sweeping his gaze across the room.
"To all my Muggle-born classmates, have you ever wished that the Wizarding World had televisions, movies, cameras, game consoles, and record players?
"Have you ever wished that, after returning home for the holidays, you could bring your families something that belonged to the magical world?"
The young students listened, holding their breath.
Hermione Granger's eyes gleamed.
At that moment, the only thing left in the entire Great Hall was his voice.
"I won't teach you to copy Muggle technology, but I will teach you how to create magical versions of those things.
"If you choose my class, I will teach you how to reshape these ideas with alchemy--
"Let images flow through crystal, let notes be recorded in magical runes, and let wands become paintbrushes of light."
The applause broke out again, this time from the lower seats.
The Muggle-born students were almost the first to rise and applaud.
"Of course," Ian said with a smile. "Innovation isn't limited to entertainment.
"No matter whether the inspiration comes from a novel, a comic, or a dream, alchemy can make it real.
"Perhaps the next person to change the Wizarding World is among you."
Dumbledore wore a gratified smile.
At that moment, the surname Bones was once again given the meaning of "hope."
However, the atmosphere at the Slytherin table was entirely different.
Many students wore complicated expressions--displeasure held tightly in check.
Their parents had already instructed them:
"Be sure to win over that Professor Bones."
In the eyes of the pure-blood families, Ian Alvin Bones's talent represented "a potential future Dumbledore,"
or even--"a possible future Dark Lord."
Therefore, despite their reluctance, no one dared to act openly discourteous.
They applauded politely, but their attitudes were as stiff as masks.
When the speech ended, Ian gave a slight bow.
As he passed Dumbledore, the headmaster said in a low voice, "Thank you."
He did not respond, merely nodding lightly.
He already understood the meaning behind that thanks.
The speech just now had not merely been an introduction to the course; it had also been an attempt to mend a rift.
Professor Babbling had unintentionally exposed the wound of blood-status discrimination,
causing many Muggle-born students to feel discouraged and even question whether their efforts had any meaning.
Ian's words had rekindled their hope--
They made the students realize that inspiration and creativity were the true core of magic.
He returned to his seat and took a sip of red wine.
From the corner of his eye, he caught Professor Quirrell's movement--the man who was always timid and stammering was sneaking glances over.
That gaze carried unnatural restraint and resentment.
Ian smiled faintly inwardly.
"Voldemort."
That gaze belonged to an existence that had once ruled through fear.
Now, it was hidden within a frail shell, trying to maintain its disguise.
Displeasure, suspicion, and a trace of concealed fear.
--Fear that Ian would become another uncontrollable force.
Ian paid it no attention.
At present, Voldemort was merely a remnant soul and will.
If he truly made a move, he could not even maintain a complete Horcrux.
He tapped the rim of his wineglass lightly, calm calculations flashing through his mind:
"If he attempts to resurrect ahead of time, Moon Base can serve as a countermeasure node... There's no need to hurry."
At the other end of the Great Hall, Hermione and Harry were still discussing things excitedly.
"Did you hear that? Those things he mentioned--televisions, games, recording machines!"
"Yeah," Harry answered indistinctly around a chicken leg. "I've seen a CD player at the Dursley Household, but they never let me use it."
"That machine plays music," Hermione explained, her eyes glowing with excitement. "If magic can really be used to create one, that would be amazing!"
The two grew more and more engrossed, even drawing Ron's attention.
"So Muggles have things like that? You can listen to songs and watch images?"
"Of course." Hermione smiled. "Maybe you can even make one yourself before the end of the term."
Just then, a transparent ghost passed through the table.
The students cried out in alarm.
"It's Headless Nick!" someone shouted.
Nick bowed slightly, his voice gentle. "I was originally called 'Nearly Headless Nick,' but later became 'Completely Headless Nick.'"
Everyone froze, then asked in unison, "How is that possible? Aren't ghosts unable to be injured again?"
Nick plucked his head from his neck and displayed it proudly. "Thanks to your new professor.
"When Ian Alvin Bones was still a student, he was researching the structure of souls and specifically asked me to participate in an experiment.
"He promised that if I was willing to cooperate, he would help me 'sever it' completely."
The students stared in shock.
Ron blurted out, "He... he researched ghosts?"
"He even invented spells capable of harming spirits." Nick spoke proudly. "Because of that, I became an official member of the Head-Hunting Club!"
Laughter and exclamations mingled together.
The old story quickly spread among the students. In less than half an hour, nearly the entire school knew--
"Professor Bones can make a ghost truly 'die' once."
The feast continued until late into the night.
After the crowd dispersed, Ian was led to the teachers' quarters by Professor Flitwick.
The room was spacious and tidy, with extremely simple furnishings that suited him perfectly.
He took the note from his coat pocket. Scrawled across it was a single sentence:
"Meet me in the Black Forest tonight. You owe me an explanation.--Severus Snape."
Before you continue