"What's going on with you!?"
Snape's expression was uncertain, however, Ian did not answer him. He simply packed up the barrel and ran off, leaving behind a mysterious silhouette.
Of course.
Unlike the little wizards who only knew how to be astonished and gape, Snape quickly followed with a frown, not to capture Ian, but to catch Ian's two roommates in the hall.
"Speak! What happened to Prince!" His face inherently had a strong deterrent effect on the little wizards, and William and Michael, looking like quails, immediately began to tremble.
"We can't betray a friend, Professor."
William gritted his teeth.
"Yes, that would be a despicable act."
Michael also immediately swallowed and chimed in.
"Very well, protecting friends, I certainly understand, but I hope your brains are as strong as your friendships. As Ravenclaw College students, you wouldn't be unaware of a magic called Legilimency. I'm not very skilled with it, so some mistakes might occur."
"Memory loss? Turning foolish? Hmm, that should be the best-case scenario…" Snape certainly knew how to threaten the little wizards. His words caused Ian's two roommates' expressions to change dramatically.
Michael was almost frightened pale.
William also looked terrified.
"You can't do that, Professor, you'll end up in Azkaban for it!" William shouted loudly, but their voices were drowned out in the hall's noise.
"Oh? Then shall we make a bet?" Snape lifted his wand at a slow-motion pace, and finally, the two little wizards couldn't hold on anymore and tearfully gave the answer.
"It's a prophecy! Professor! Ian has awakened the talent of prophecy! He said he's a hidden prophet among the crowd!" William weighed the pros and cons and decisively chose to betray his friend.
He thought it shouldn't be something that endangered Ian's life. After all, Snape was Ian's biological uncle, a fact they had heard Ian mention over three hundred sixty times.
It was just recently that he stopped mentioning it.
"Prophecy? Prophet?"
Snape put down the wand he had taken ages to lift. He first frowned, then suddenly his expression changed dramatically as if a flash of insight struck him.
He left the two little wizards in place. The bat quickly ran toward the underground office direction, leaving only a hurried silhouette for William and Michael.
"What's up with him?"
Michael was still a bit uncertain, but his skin tone had returned to its original color.
"Shall we follow and take a look?"
William was also very curious, he pulled the somewhat fearful-looking Michael, and ran towards the basement direction, spying on Snape's every move from around the corner.
There.
After entering the office, Snape soon ran out again, bringing back a bunch of golden hair from outside and another bunch of black hair before going back into the office.
The smell of brewing magic potion began to waft out.
"I bet those are Miss Grindelwald's and Ian's hair."
Michael made his judgment.
And William, as if realizing something, widened his eyes directly.
"I see! It all makes sense now! It all makes sense now!" He exclaimed repeatedly as if suddenly enlightened, and a blend of excitement and joy was present in his tone.
…
The two roommates had scored well in their daring mission without being detected by Snape, while on the other side, Ian was hiding in a corner of another corridor, occasionally observing the situation.
He knew who he would encounter in this corridor, so he had prepared in advance. As time passed, soon a plain-looking figure maneuvered the smell of garlic and approached.
Just as Quirrell reached the corridor's middle position.
"Bang!"
Ian pressed a small device in his hand, and the next moment, a floorboard under Quirrell suddenly exploded, catching him off guard and sending him flying—Dumbledore only said not to bomb the Ministry of Magic, not that he couldn't bomb something else.
"Professor Quirrell has reached the ceiling."
Behind.
A voice of astonishment rose.
The tone was childish.
"Yes, really don't know who's attempting to ambush our professor." Ian's attention was always on Quirrell, his wand always raised from the very start.
After all.
This surprise attack was not only to change his encounter with Quirrell, but more so to loudly shout "There's a rat, there's something filthy," once Voldemort's soul emerged, and thereby burn away Voldemort's soul.
Yet.
Even though Quirrell was blasted to the ceiling and then heavily hit the ground, with his butt already bruised, no unusual noise happened on him.
It can only be said.
Voldemort has real patience.
No wonder he can succeed.
"Unfortunately, your purpose seems unaccomplished." The voice came again from behind, no longer childish, but transformed into a voice that made Ian shiver all over.
"Hiss! Changing your voice and teasing me! Professor! You're the real filth!" With an expression of uncertainty, Ian turned around and saw the young professor in a dark green robe standing behind him.
"This is called the Human Body Transformation Technique, young lad." Professor of Alchemy Arthur King used yet another tone, his throat visibly undergoing a clear change.
"Weren't you in the library?"
Ian was a bit surprised.
He still recalled memories associated with meeting Professor Arthur King in the library.
"Was just planning to go."
Arthur King chuckled softly.
"Alright."
Ian's understanding of events at this point only involved his experiences, hence he truly didn't know when the professor went to the library prior to his inquiry into Resurrection Stone related materials.
"Wish you a pleasant day."
Ian was somewhat worried that the young professor would find out it was him who bombed Quirrell, although Quirrell, now revived from faintness, didn't shout anything, instead hurriedly crawled toward a certain passage.
"I'll certainly have a pleasant day."
Arthur King appeared to care little about Quirrell, he stepped forward, but after a brief distance, he halted and looked back at Ian.
"But, you might not be so pleased... Remember I mentioned offering you help, haha, thinking back now, do you regret refusing me?"
The professor's tone was very light and cheerful.
He was speaking words perhaps not meant to be spoken.
. [ps: Today, delayed by someone, tomorrow, will attempt a, extreme, lengthy chapter, finish.]