Tighter than Lego blocks.
The only downside is that the rotation time is not fixed and depends entirely on how the administrator sets it, presumably to prevent intruders.
It is not only the main traffic hub inside the castle but also the perfect fusion of magic and art, and the chief reason many little wizards tend to be late when they start school.
Many little wizards think they have memorized the rotation schedule of the stairs after first entering the castle, but they may encounter a different rotation pattern when attending class.
Running to the wrong floor, wasting too much time... Little wizards who like to arrive just in time often encounter these issues, and no one can say for sure if it's Professor McGonagall somewhat implicitly teaching little wizards the importance of punctuality and preparedness.
"If I were the headmaster, I would do the same and then hide behind the door, watching the little wizards squirm while secretly enjoying it," Ian thought, his hand active within his robe's pocket, which wasn't just enchanted with a Traceless Stretching Charm for his money bag, but every pocket of his robe now bore traces of the charm.
Of course.
Due to the increasing difficulty of expanding space, Ian hadn't enlarged his robe pocket by much, only enough to hold a few huskies.
"Where are my spicy snacks?"
Ian rummaged through his clothing pockets but couldn't find the spicy jerky specially made for him by the house-elves; instead, he discovered a small piece of paper.
"Again?"
Never having papers on himself, not even carrying tissue, choosing instead to transform small stones—an environmentally friendly little wizard—immediately sensed a familiar experience. He quickly pulled out the seemingly magically appeared slip from his pocket, relieved this time it wasn't some inexplicable mysterious "letter."
[To prevent you from sneakily asking me or pouring Truth Serum into my teacup, I need to preemptively warn you that, as a consistently law-abiding Alchemist and now Hogwarts' Professor of Alchemy, regardless of your tricks, I will definitely not tell you King Arthur's tomb is at the location of XXXX region.]
Even without reading the text.
Merely from the handwriting, Ian could discern whose private surprise had been stealthily slipped into his pocket; Nicolas Flamel, the Alchemy Master's handwriting style was incredibly distinctive.
"Bloody law-abiding..." Ian recalled Nicolas Flamel's money printer, audaciously constructed; heaven knows what other spectacularly shocking inventions Nicolas Flamel might have secretly made.
Furthermore, although the note gallantly proclaimed not to reveal Arthur's tomb location, it detailed the address, even including markers nearby. The most outrageous aspect was Nicolas Flamel, fearing Ian couldn't locate it, had precisely given the exact latitude and longitude coordinates on Earth.
"This six-hundred-year-old professor seems to be quite the prankster..." Ian inspected the note once again, recalling the grave-robbing tools he'd confiscated from Nicolas Flamel, never asked back.
He couldn't guess what Nicolas Flamel truly anticipated—let's just say, if the tomb was someone else's location, Ian might be tempted.
However.
Nicolas Flamel provided the grave of that Legendary Monarch. To Ian, it's somewhat tricky, given his intricate entanglements with related individuals.
Of course.
It's not that Ian isn't tempted at all.
After all, as someone with grand ambitions, aspiring to pass down the grave-digging enterprise to his descendants and establish the Nine Ancient Schools of the Wizarding World, Ian is curious about those legendary figures' graves.
Ian hasn't dug up Merlin's tomb either, but within King Arthur's, surely lies King Arthur's skeleton; a single Imperio cast would be immensely satisfying.
The only concern is that excavation typically encounters numerous hazards, karma, and the risk of being severely beaten by Morgan.
Despite the deepest grudges.
A teacher's younger brother's grave nonetheless. It's what Ian finds tricky, but for such a clever little wizard, it's not impossible to devise a perfect solution.
"I'll bring my good friend Pandro onboard; he surely wouldn't refuse such an adventurous expedition, he gains joy, while I gain safety and treasure."
"I only need a Magic Stone retaining considerable magic power to cover the cost of summoning him as my Patronus... If one isn't enough, I've plenty more."
Ian's unconventional thinking made him feel twice victorious. Just as he completed his audacious plan, the rotating stairs gradually came to a halt.
The mischievous little wizard was about to step onto it.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute, student in front!" Suddenly, an elderly voice behind Ian interrupted, accompanied by some lingering gasps.
"Hello, old sir, old madam... everyone." Ian turned back to see an elegantly dressed elderly man with full white hair. He wore a knee-length coat that lent him an air of sophistication and amiability.
Still abundant hair allowed for a fringe that covered half of his eyes, enhancing his trendy appearance. For some reason, Ian was reminded of a character from the novel "Dragon Race."