As time passed, autumn deepened. Hogwarts' spires were wrapped in golden fallen leaves, and the air carried a faint scent of pumpkin and spice. In the blink of an eye, Halloween had arrived.
Early that morning, Ian had noticed that the castle's timeline was still proceeding along its original course—
Harry joined the Quidditch team, Neville fell and broke a bone during flying class, Malfoy's provocation and the midnight duel,
and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville encountered the three-headed dog, Fluffy, after accidentally entering the restricted area.
Everything was exactly as he remembered.
But tonight was different.
He knew it—tonight was the day the troll entered the castle.
At first, he had not intended to interfere.
After all, that "bathroom incident" was a crucial turning point in the three children's friendship.
Yet in the end, he changed his mind.
Hermione Granger—clever, brave, and clear-minded.
In Ian's plans, she would be an important member of the future "elite wizard corps."
He needed to give her an unforgettable beginning.
That night, the Great Hall blazed with light.
Jack-o'-lanterns hung in midair, while the tables were laden with candy and roasted meat. The students' laughter never ceased, and the liveliness of Halloween nearly concealed the danger lurking in the air.
Ian sat at the teachers' table, his expression calm as the wine in his silver goblet glimmered gold.
At that moment, his wrist shifted slightly, and a folded sheet of parchment unfurled in his palm.
It was an improved Marauder's Map.
After Ian's Alchemy modifications, it could clearly display the magical coordinates of every living being in the entire castle.
Countless points of light shimmered across the map like stars.
One red dot—Hermione—remained in the girls' bathroom.
Another blurry dark dot was slowly moving from the dungeons.
Ian raised an eyebrow.
"Looks like the story has begun."
He took a sip of wine and rose to his feet.
"Excuse me. I'm going to the bathroom."
No one was suspicious. It was perfectly ordinary for a professor to leave the table.
He stepped into the dim corridor.
At the same time, that dark red point of light had already entered the second floor.
Inside the girls' bathroom, Hermione covered her face with both hands and wept softly.
Her reflection lay across the white marble floor—lonely and stubborn.
A dull tremor came from outside the door.
"Thud—thud—"
Heavy footsteps drew closer and closer.
Hermione looked up, tears trembling in her eyes.
The next instant, the door was smashed open.
A mountain troll over three meters tall squeezed inside, its thick wooden club scraping out a piercing sound.
A foul stench mixed with the smell of blood filled the entire bathroom.
Hermione backed away in terror until her back pressed against the cold wall.
She pulled out her wand, yet could not remember a single spell.
The troll raised its club, muscles bulging.
The air seemed to tear apart.
At that very instant—
An invisible shield of light appeared before her, accompanied by a clear metallic clang.
The massive club was thrown back by the rebound and smashed into the floor.
"Professor!" Hermione cried.
Ian entered through the doorway, looking utterly composed.
A faint breeze lifted his robes, and the troll's shadow was reflected in his eyes.
"Running around alone is not very wise, Miss Granger."
His tone was calm, yet it made the girl's heart tighten.
"I... I'm sorry, Professor." She lowered her head.
"It's all right. As long as you're safe."
Ian lifted his gaze toward the troll before him.
The creature was pounding at the shield with its clumsy fists, producing nothing but muffled thuds.
"An interesting life-form," he murmured.
"You mean... the troll?" Hermione asked blankly.
"Yes. Most people see only their violence, yet overlook their value."
Ian pointed at the magical shield, rippling under the troll's blows.
"Look—its skin can withstand spells and even reflect some magical power. It is an ancient defensive structure, based on principles similar to Ancient Magic."
"Ancient Magic?" Hermione froze.
"You mean the kind Mrs. Lily Potter used to protect Harry?"
Ian nodded, his voice low. "Yes. That was Sacrifice of Love, and also the power of pure will. But Ancient Magic is not limited to that—
Some creatures are born carrying it, such as dragon scales, troll hide, and Phoenix tears."
He paused, a contemplative look in his eyes. "Imagine it. What would happen if Alchemy could analyze that essence and transplant that resistance and power into humans?"
Hermione listened in a daze, already beginning to work through the logic in her mind.
"But didn't you say that humans cannot directly control Ancient Magic?"
"Indeed, it cannot be 'controlled,' but it can be 'analyzed,'" Ian said softly.
"Science cannot create souls, but it can analyze the structure of life. Magic is the same.
We do not need to become gods. We only need to understand the language of gods."
Hermione looked up, and her eyes gradually brightened.
For the first time, she realized that magic could be so rational, so full of logic and order.
Ian smiled faintly.
"It seems you understand quite well, Miss Granger."
With that, he turned back toward the troll.
The club rose again, but before it could fall, the air suddenly tightened.
Ian flicked his wand and chanted softly.
The club instantly transformed into silver chains, which rapidly coiled around the troll's limbs.
The creature roared and struggled, but the chains only tightened further.
"Enough."
He flicked a finger, and his wand emitted a faint vibration.
Soundless ripples spread outward, making the air tremble.
Hermione felt a sudden distortion in her ears. Then the troll's body stiffened, its eyes rolled back, and it crashed to the floor.
"That was—?"
"A variation of the Sonic Wave Spell," Ian replied. "It was originally used to amplify sound. I adjusted the frequency so it resonated only within the target's brain. It will not leak out, nor will it leave any trace."
Hermione stared blankly at the fallen troll, deeply shaken.
"Magic... can be used like that too."
"The limits of magic have never been determined by the length of a spell," Ian said lightly. "They are determined by the depth of one's understanding."
He put away his wand and turned toward the door.
Two figures rushed in—Harry and Ron.
"Hermione! Are you all right?" Harry rushed forward, his face filled with worry.
"I'm fine... the professor saved me."
Ian smiled and stepped back.
"It seems you have friends willing to risk themselves for you. That is something worth cherishing."
Harry nodded breathlessly, while Ron repeatedly thanked him as well.
A few minutes later, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and the other professors arrived.
Seeing the troll already lying on the ground, everyone was stunned.
Hermione stepped forward and voluntarily took responsibility. "I came in here by myself. The professor only saved me."
Dumbledore watched her, then looked toward Ian.
The latter merely smiled faintly and said nothing.
"Then let it be so," the headmaster said, nodding meaningfully.
The night grew deeper.
The students were sent back to their dormitories.
In the Great Hall, the lights flickered.
Ian walked alone through the corridor, his footsteps echoing across the stone floor.
He murmured, "Hermione Granger—the first chess piece has been placed."
Outside the window, moonlight silently spilled down, reflected in his calm eyes,
like a silent mirror, mirroring the ripples of the future.
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