Chapter 91 Die-hard Fan of the Chudley Cannons
Several people came out of the house, crossed the garden, and walked over to the dilapidated garage next to it.
Ian quickened his pace and walked up to the flying car that had carried them all the way from Hogwarts to The Burrow.
He walked around the car body, sweeping his gaze over every detail, not even missing the seams at the bottom of the car.
"Ian, you want to modify this car, but where are your Alchemy runes, bottles, and jars? I haven't seen you bring them over, how are you going to start working on it?" Ronasked with a puzzled face.
"Who told you I didn't bring them?" Ian took off the inconspicuous small bag from his waist, unzipped it, "Look, all the tools are right here."
Rows of Alchemy tools and materials were neatly stacked inside the bag, one next to the other, like a miniature toolbox.
"This is my Alchemy item bag. Grandpa Nicolas cast an Undetectable Extension Charm on it. It looks compact, but it can pack a lot of things inside." When Ian introduced it, his tone carried a hint of small pride.
"Wow, this bag is so exquisite, it must not be cheap at a glance." Ron curiously leaned closer, his eyes almost sticking to it, "Nicolas Flamel must really favor you."
"Needless to say." Ian raised his eyebrows, "I am Grandpa Nicolas's only heir after all."
"Alright, alright, stop showing off, hurry up and start your modifications." Hermione urged from the side, "We are all waiting to see what you can tinker with."
"Fine, then I'll get to work." Ian took out tools and materials from the bag, squatted down in front of the flying car, and began to work busily.
He was very focused when working, his hand movements were fast and steady, flowing like clouds and water, almost like a performance.
Modifying a flying car is not something to be rushed; every component must be thoroughly understood before starting.
While tinkering, Ian explained it to the people nearby, breaking down the intricacies of Alchemy to explain to them.
"Alchemy is simply amazing." Ron watched the Alchemyrunes in Ian's hands melt into the body of the flying car bit by bit, and couldn't help sighing, "You can pull off such complex magic, that's just too awesome."
"Actually it's fine, once you really understand the principles, getting started isn't that hard." Ian waved his hand, not getting cocky, "Today I can only modify this part first. Alchemy products are not things you can rush."
He rubbed his chin and thought for a moment: "There's a place I haven't quite figured out yet. I'll write a letter to Grandpa Nicolas later and ask him about it."
Ron glanced at the time: "Just right, it's almost time for lunch, let's head back."
Several people returned to The Burrow and had a wonderful lunch.
After the meal, Ian wrote a letter to Nicolas Flamel, writing down several problems encountered during the modification of the flying car.
As soon as the letter was finished, before he could catch his breath, he was dragged upstairs by Ron, and Harry was pulled along as well.
"Let's go, let's go, I'll take you to tour my bedroom!" Ronwalked at the very front excitedly.
Ian and Harry exchanged glances, both seeing the same helplessness on each other's faces.
The three of them slipped out of the kitchen, squeezed through a narrow corridor, and came to a bumpy flight of stairs.
The stairs twisted and turned, and when reaching the third landing, a door was half ajar.
Ian had just caught a glimpse of a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him when the door clicked shut.
"Uh..." Ian blinked, somewhat dazed, "I shouldn't be some kind of monster, right?"
"That's Ginny." Ron acted as if he had run into some wondrous spectacle, his tone full of novelty, "You wouldn't know, she actually knows how to blush, that's just too absurd, normally she never closes her door—"
They climbed two more flights of stairs and stopped in front of a door with most of its paint peeling off, on which "Ron's Room" was crookedly written.
As the door was pushed open, Ian instinctively lowered his head—the slanting ceiling pressed very low, and anyone would bump into it without bending over.
He took a peek inside and instantly felt his eyes could barely handle it, as if he had fallen into a big furnace.
Inside Ron's room, from the bedspread to the walls and ceiling, everything was a dazzling orange-yellow.
Looking closer, those old wallpapers had long been covered tightly by posters, with almost every inch not idle. On the posters were seven wizards and witches wearing orange-yellow robes, riding broomsticks, cheerfully waving downwards, every single sheet featuring the same group of people.
Ian half-squinted his eyes and turned to look at Ron: "Is this the Quidditch team you stan? Which one?"
"This is the Chudley Cannons, right?" Harry took over, looking at the wall full of posters with a slightly surprised expression, "You're a fan of theirs?"
"That's right! The Chudley Cannons!" Ron raised a hand to point at the orange-yellow bedspread, printed with two huge letters "C" and a cannonball charging forward, "Currently ranked ninth in the club, hey, last year they were clearly ranked seventh."
"Ian, Harry, which team do you both support?" Ron turned his head to ask.
"I don't support any team." Harry answered crisply.
Ian shrugged along: "Me too."
He really didn't know much about Quidditch teams. If he had to name one he had an impression of, it would be that Seeker of the Bulgarian national team among the Durmstrang crowd—Viktor Krum.
Who asked this guy in the original plot to shamelessly like their Hermione.
"What?! You two actually don't support a single team?!" Ron's expression was like he had heard someone insult Merlin to his face.
"So what." Ian looked unconcerned.
He then began to look around Ron's room—magictextbooks were piled haphazardly in the corner, next to which sat a stack of comic books, whose covers seemed to be The Weird Adventures of Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle.
Ian raised his eyebrows, not expecting Ron to be into this sort of thing.
Ron's wand rested on the upper rim of a large fish tank on the windowsill, inside which a bunch of frog spawn was kept. That fat gray rat Scabbers was lying in the sunlight beside the fish tank, snoring with its belly rising and falling.
Ian and Harry stepped over the self-shuffling playing cards on the floor and crowded over to the small window to look outside.
Down in the ground, a group of gnomes were burrowing one by one into the the Weasleys's hedge, sneaking around.
Ian withdrew his gaze, turned around, and found that Ronwas staring nervously at him and Harry, as if waiting for the two of them to give a score.
"It's a bit small." Ron spoke before the two could open their mouths, "It definitely can't compare to your rooms. Right above me is the attic, where a Ghoul lives, always knocking on the pipes in the middle of the night, groaning..."
But Harry smiled cheerfully and said: "No way, this is the best room I've ever seen."
The tips of Ron's ears suddenly turned red.
Ian also chuckled along: "Small has its own perks, it's like a secret base."
"Really?" Ron grinned, smiling exceptionally happily.
"Of course." Ian smiled and took another two steps into the room.
As if not paying attention, he walked over to Scabbers, brushed his wrist against it, and knocked that fat gray rat off the windowsill.
"Squeak squeak squeak!"
"Oops! Sorry, Scabbers." Ian looked apologetic, casually picked up a piece of tissue nearby, pinched the back of Scabbers's neck, and secretly increased his strength, "I really didn't mean to."
"Squeak squeak squeak!" Scabbers widened its eyes in anger.
It hurts the rat to death! What on earth is this Potter doing! Doesn't he know how strong his grip is!
Hogwarts: I am the Savior, frantically tearing apart pairings!
Chapter 92: Scabbers's Secret and the Temptation of Exploding Snap
"Don't worry, if he really kicks the bucket, I'll get you another one."
Ian slapped a hand onto Ron's shoulder, grinning quite casually, but the words he spat out made Scabbers's blood run cold. "Anyway, at his age, he's lived for over a decade, right? Come to think of it, is Scabbers even considered some kind of magical creature? How could an ordinary rat live this long?"
Hearing this, Scabbers was so terrified he even forgot to play dead.
Did this Potter kid figure something out?
"No."
Ron waved a hand. "He's just an ordinary rat. Scabbersused to belong to my brother Percy. Later, when Percybecame a prefect, Mum and Dad bought him a new owl named Hermes, and Scabbers became mine."
"Oh, so after all that fuss, he's just an ordinary rat."
Ian dragged out his tone, his words carrying a hidden meaning. "Then you'd better be careful. Rats are the kind of creatures that carry plague."
"Ah!"
Ron jumped in fright, quickly lifting Scabbers from his hands and shoving him into the cage nearby, clicking the door shut. "Sh... should be fine, right? Scabbers looks pretty healthy."
"Who can say for sure?"
Ian casually replied, "Anyway, keep your guard up. That plague in fourteenth-century Europe was no joke. Rats are filthy things."
From the bottom of his heart, he hoped that when Rondiscovered in his third year that the rat he raised was a greasy middle-aged man, the area of his psychological shadow would be a little smaller.
"Should... be fine..."
Rattled by Ian's words, Ron quickly hurried over to the fish tank and peered closely at Scabbers from left and right.
Scabbers cowered in the corner of the cage, trembling uncontrollably. He increasingly felt that this Potter named Ian was deliberately messing with him.
"You spend every day with him, both at home and at school."
Ian continued to output intimidation toward Ron. "Rats are omnivorous, after all. What if one day he takes a bite out of you while you're fast asleep? You'll be in big trouble."
Hearing this, Ron actually breathed a sigh of relief. "That's not it; I don't sleep with Scabbers. He always runs around at night and only comes back during the day."
"Is that so."
Ian glanced at Ron, somewhat surprised.
No wonder. With the Marauder's Map in the twins' hands, they couldn't possibly stand by and watch their own younger brother sleep in the same bed every day with someone named Peter.
It all made sense now—Pettigrew never stayed with Ronat night.
"Let's go, time to head down."
Harry interrupted their conversation. "Didn't Fred say there's something fun waiting for us?"
"Oh, right, we need to head down."
Awakened by Harry's words, Ron hurriedly shoved Scabbers's cage under the bed and led Harry and Ian out of the room.
Ian turned back to glance at Scabbers once more, an ambiguous smile hanging on the corner of his mouth.
You dead rat, live well and wait for your dog godfather to come find you in your third year.
They walked down the rickety stairs, various sounds surging up from downstairs.
…in Ron's room, Fred, put down that Dungbomb in your hand!
Mrs. Weasley's roar came from behind. "How many times have I told you boys, no experimenting with those things in the house!"
"We weren't experimenting."
Fred's voice drifted over. "We were just playing around!"
"Hehe!"
"Fred Weasley! I swear, you'll regret this!"
"Mum, George threw the Dungbomb at Percy, it's not my fault!"
"You two, shut your mouths, both of you!"
Ian and the other two had just come down the stairs and ran right into this scene.
Hermione quickly grabbed Ian and muttered in a low voice, "Fred and George are in trouble."
"Ian, Harry."
When Mrs. Weasley's gaze swept over the two Potters, her voice instantly softened. "Is Ron's room okay? If you don't like it, you can share a room with Fred and George."
"Ian, Harry, come live with us."
"That's right, we can cook up some interesting inventions."
"No thanks."
Harry and Ian shook their heads like rattles.
They still wanted to live a few more years.
"Mum, you flushed all the Dungbombs away!"
George stared heartbrokenly at the Dungbombs flushed away by Mrs. Weasley.
"You actually used that stuff to throw at your own brother!"
Mrs. Weasley glared at them angrily. "How could you treat Percy like that!"
Percy sat huddled in the sofa holding a book and let out a cold sneer. "Mum, they haven't been friendly to me at all today."
"Mum, who asked Percy to sit there looking all bureaucratic, like he's the Headmaster."
Fred curled his lip disdainfully.
"Exactly, you can't even imagine, he was actually lecturing us just now!"
George also chimed in, "Model Percy."
"But Percy would never act like you two!"
Mrs. Weasley glared at them. "All right, hurry up and clean up this trash."
She turned around and said to Ian and the others, "Go play in the living room, I'll call you when dinner is ready."
"Okay, Mrs. Weasley."
Harry and the others obediently nodded and followed Roninto the living room.
"Ever since Bill and Charlie graduated, Percy has become Mum's favorite child."
Ron whispered quietly to Harry and Ian, "He always wants to find a chance to tell on us to Mum and get her to scold us."
"I never tell on anyone to Mum and Dad!"
Percy had very sharp ears; hearing Ron's words, he glared and retorted, "I only tell Mum and Dad when you guys get into trouble!"
"Isn't that called telling on us!"
George and Fred rolled their eyes in unison.
"Hmph!"
Percy let out a cold huff, ignored them further, and turned to go upstairs.
"All right, never mind Percy."
Ron pulled Harry and Ian to sit down on the sofa. "You guys will never guess what we're going to play in a bit."
"Play what?"
Harry curiously asked.
Hermione frowned. "As long as you don't drag Ian into playing anything dangerous, do whatever you want."
"We won't drag Ian into anything dangerous."
Ron quickly shook his head. "We're going to play Exploding Snap!"
"Exploding Snap?"
Harry wore a puzzled expression. "What is that?"
"It's similar to Wizard's chess."
Ron explained, "However, the pieces in Exploding Snap can explode at any moment, blowing you to smithereens."
"And you call that not dangerous?"
Hermione glared angrily at Ron. "You actually want to play such a dangerous game!"
"It's just an expression, Hermione, Exploding Snap isn't that scary."
Fred had drifted over at some point. "Getting blasted once is pretty much like getting poked by a needle."
"That's right, we've played it many times, and nobody's ever gotten hurt."
George also leaned in and said, "Do you want to play together, Hermione?"
"I would never play such a dangerous game."
Hermione refused cleanly and decisively. "Ian, you're not allowed to play either."
Ian was just about to nod and say he wanted to play when he heard Hermione's words, leaving him to helplessly shrug. "Fine, I won't play."
"Alright, then the four of us will play."
Ron spread his hands. "Don't regret it."
"Rest assured, we won't regret it."
Hermione pulled Ian to sit aside. "We'll just watch you guys play from right here."
"Good boy, Ian."
Hermione reached out and pinched Ian's cheek, saying with a beaming smile, "We don't play dangerous games."
Ian: "..."
Why did it feel like Hermione was treating him like a dog being trained?
"Let's start!"
As soon as Ron spread out the chessboard, Harry, Ron, Fred, and George plunged into the battle of Exploding Snap.
Every time they moved a piece, they stared nervously at the board, terrified that their pieces would suddenly explode.
However, just as Fred and George had said, Exploding Snap wasn't that dangerous.
The pieces did explode from time to time, but getting blasted like that really didn't hurt much—at most, it was just a momentary stinging sensation.
Watching from the side, Ian's hands were itching unbearably. This Exploding Snap was actually quite interesting, and he wanted to join in too.
"Hermione, I want to play too."
Ian couldn't hold back and spoke up.
"No."
Hermione refused without even thinking. "Too dangerous."
"But they're all having a lot of fun."
Ian gazed pleadingly at Hermione. "I want to play too."
"Th... that's fine then."
Seeing Ian's pitiful look, Hermione's heart softened and she relented. "However, you have to be careful."
"Rest assured, I'll be careful."
Ian nodded hurriedly.
He got up and walked over to the edge of the chessboard, just in time as Harry lost. Harry gave up his spot to him: "Ian, you come play."
"Okay."
Ian plopped down and kicked off his debut in Exploding Snap.
His luck was pretty good; he made several moves in a row without any pieces exploding.
Just as he was about to win, his piece suddenly exploded.
With a muffled "bang", Ian's right hand felt as if it had been pricked by a needle, hurting enough to make him shake his hand out.
"Ian, are you okay?"
Hermione stared at him anxiously.
"I'm fine."
Ian shook his head. "It just stung a bit, no big deal."
"I told you not to let you play, but you insisted."
Hermione gently blew on Ian's hand out of distress while scolding him. "Hurt now, did it?"
"Hehe, it's fine, Hermione, really fine."
Ian chuckled. "Let's keep going, keep going."
At Ian's strong insistence, they played all the way until dinnertime.
"Dinner's ready!"
Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen, looked at the seven children in the living room, and said with a smile, "How was your game?"
"Super fun, Mrs. Weasley."
Ian answered with a smile. "Exploding Snap is really interesting."
"As long as you like it."
Mrs. Weasley smiled and nodded. "Alright, let's go eat."
The the Weasleys's kitchen was very small, barely able to cram in the nine members of the the Weasleys. Now, with Ian, Hermione, and Harry added, it was even more crowded and impossible to turn around.
"I'm so sorry, the house is too small."
Mrs. Weasley looked apologetically at the three of them. "Tomorrow, I'll figure out how to expand the kitchen a bit."
"It's fine, Mrs. Weasley, this is quite nice."
Ian and Hermione waved their hands simultaneously.
"Yeah, Mrs. Weasley, we don't feel cramped."
Harry also said.
"Alright, if you feel uncomfortable, you must tell me."
Mrs. Weasley smiled and nodded. "Well then, let's eat."
At the dining table, Mrs. Weasley constantly piled food into the bowls of Ian and the other two, fearing they would be shy and not dare to eat much.
"Hasn't Dad come back yet?"
Ron asked while shoveling rice.
"Not yet, probably delayed by something at the Ministry again."
Mrs. Weasley explained, "Never mind him, let's eat first."
As soon as her voice fell, the sound of a door opening came from outside, followed immediately by a weary voice ringing out: "My dear, I'm back."
"It's Dad!"
Ginny jumped down from her chair and trotted out of the kitchen.
Not long after, she dragged in a slightly bald, chubby man.
"Hi, kids."
Mr. Weasley greeted Ian and the others with a smile.
"Good evening, Mr. Weasley."
The young Wizards greeted him obediently.
"Oh, what a rough night!"
Mr. Weasley muttered, reaching out for the teapot. "I inspected nine places. That old codger Mundungus Fletcher tried to cast magic on me while I turned my back..."
Mr. Weasley took a big gulp of tea and let out a breath of relief.
"Did you confiscate anything, Dad?"
Fred asked eagerly.
"Just a few shrinking front door keys and a biting kettle."
Mr. Weasley said while yawning, "There were some quite troublesome things, but they don't fall under our department's jurisdiction. Some very bizarre ferrets were found at the Mortlake residence, and he was taken in for questioning, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms' affair, thank goodness..."
Harry curiously pressed further: "Shrinking keys? Why would anyone make shrinking keys?"
"To torment those Muggles."
Mr. Weasley sighed. "Selling a Muggle a key, only for the key to shrink away in the end so they can't find it when they need to... Of course, this is hard for people to believe, because not a single Muggle would ever admit that their key was shrinking and shrinking—they'd swear it was lost. These Muggles, they can always turn a blind eye to magic, even when it's right before their eyes... But the things enchanted by our people, you simply wouldn't believe—"
"Like that flying car."
Ian chimed in.
"Right!"
Mr. Weasley smiled. "Ian, I haven't asked you yet, how is the modification coming along?"
"I added an automatic patrol device to it; if nobody uses it for twenty-four hours, it will automatically return to The Burrow. I originally wanted to add automatic positioning too, but I still have to go ask Grandpa Nicolas."
Ian said, "After all, automatic positioning touches upon spatial laws in Alchemy, and I haven't studied that deeply yet."
"That's already amazing, Ian."
Mr. Weasley patted Ian's shoulder. "You're way better than the little rascals in our family; all they know how to do nowadays is wreck the house, they could never pull off this kind of Alchemy invention."
"Dad, what are you saying!"
George and Fred shouted at the same time.
"Isn't it true?"
Mr. Weasley glared at them. "Your invention last time blew away half the living room!"
"That was an accident!"
The twins spoke in unison.
Everyone present burst into laughter, and the kitchen was filled with joyful laughter and cheers.
Chapter 93: Hee-Haw Magical Tricks Shop
After clearing the dinner table, Mrs. Weasley began arranging sleeping arrangements for the night.
She put Hermione and Ginny together, saying Ginny's room was spacious and Hermione was sure to like it.
Before she could finish asking, Ian shoved Harry toward Ron.
"I'm sleeping with Fred and George, Mrs. Weasley."
He certainly didn't want to spend the night in the same room as a rat.
Glancing over at Hermione and Ginny, Ian actually wished in his heart that he could slip into the two young witches' room.
If he actually said that out loud, the smiles on the the Weasleys's faces would probably turn into drawn wands.
A reputation takes only a split second to collapse.
Mrs. Weasley nodded, telling Ron to take Harry upstairs, and letting Ian go with the twins.
They wished each other goodnight and went their separate ways.
Ian followed Fred and George up to the second floor.
"What exactly does Mr. Weasley do at the Ministry of Magic?"
Ian couldn't help asking, recalling how utterly exhausted Mr. Weasley looked.
Fred rubbed his nose and said it was the most boring department.
"Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."
Ian feigned a look of surprise.
"So isn't that..."
George shrugged and chimed in, saying it was the department that dealt with Muggle things all day long, specifically preventing people from enchanting Muggle-made objects so those things wouldn't wind up back in Muggle shops or homes.
Fred added that an old witch had died last year, and her tea set ended up in an antique shop where a Mugglewoman bought it.
The day she hosted a tea party, it was a complete disaster.
"The teapot went berserk and sprayed boiling water everywhere. A man ended up in the hospital, and the sugar tongs pinched his nose tight."
Ian listened wide-eyed.
George continued, saying their dad was rushed off his feet during that time. There was only him and an old Wizardnamed Perkins in the office, and the two of them worked frantically using Memory Charms and every trick in the book to cover it up.
The twins went back and forth, bringing last year's accident vividly to life.
Ian's lips twitched as he shifted the conversation to the flying car.
If Mr. Weasley worked in that office, how on earth did he end up creating something like that himself?
Fred laughed, explaining that Dad was obsessed with anything related to Muggles, and their shed was packed with Muggle junk.
Taking things apart, enchanting them, and putting them back together was his greatest joy.
If he ever raided his own house, he'd have to handcuff himself first.
Mum was nearly driven mad by the whole thing.
Talking as they walked, the three pushed open Fred and George's bedroom door.
Fred announced that this was their domain—a bit messy, so he hoped Ian wouldn't mind.
The room was piled with all sorts of odd knick-knacks, and the walls were plastered with portraits and posters. It clearly looked like the den of inventors.
Ian looked around, praising the room for being awesome.
George looked proud, saying they had put all of it together themselves.
Ian wandered around the room and picked up a small silver contraption from the desk.
The twins shook their heads mysteriously, saying that was their secret—they were working on a new invention and couldn't reveal it yet.
However, they could certainly show off some other things.
Fred dragged a large box out from under the bed and shoved it into Ian's hands.
Lifting the lid revealed a collection of colorful candies.
Ian stared wide-eyed at the box of varieties.
Fred began introducing them one by one: these were Puking Pastilles, those were Fainting Fancies, plus Nosebleed Nougat and Fattening Pills.
Collectively known as Skiving Snackbox, specifically designed for skipping classes.
Ian had never seen so many bizarre sweets and blurted out that they were geniuses.
Fred grew even prouder, claiming to be the greatest inventors in Hogwarts.
George nodded along, saying they planned to get a shopfront in Diagon Alley in the future to open a joke shop, just like Zonko's Joke Shop.
Ian's eyes darted as he asked if they lacked startup capital to open the shop.
He wanted to buy a stake.
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes opened by the twins—if he could get a piece of that action, it was a guaranteed money-maker.
Fred and George exchanged a look, muttering about Young Master Potter wanting to invest in their joke shop.
Ian laid it out clearly: as long as they agreed, he could set up the shop in Diagon Alley right now.
They would provide the technology, and he would provide the money.
A 40-60 profit split: they get forty percent, he gets sixty percent. And during term time, they wouldn't have to worry about running the shop—he would hire someone to manage it.
The twins were clearly stunned by the proposal. They exchanged another look and nodded in unison.
"Deal!"
Ian curled his lips into a smile and extended a hand.
The twins reached out as well, three hands clasping together.
Ian said he would send a letter to his House-elf tomorrow, instructing Dobby to go to Diagon Alley and find a store in a prime location.
Dobby was reliable and could handle all of it properly.
Fred and George jumped with excitement, shouting that they would soon be earning their own money and their family wouldn't have to scrape by anymore.
Ian raised his head in slight surprise. He had thought opening a joke shop was simply their dream, given how good they were at tinkering with fun things.
George pursed his lips and said it was fifty-fifty.
Opening a shop was indeed something he and Fred had always dreamed of, but Ian had seen their family's financial situation—earning money early to support the family was also their original motivation.
Ian fell silent for a moment.
He had always viewed the twins as pure pranksters, but now it seemed that despite their carefree exterior, they were deeply thoughtful and truly cared for their family.
The entire the Weasleys was actually quite great—except for Percy.
During the Goblet of Fire in their fourth year, when mud was slung at Dumbledore, Percy severed ties with his family voluntarily out of fear that it would ruin his own prospects.
Mrs. Weasley's proudest son had fallen out with his entire family just to climb the social ladder.
Ian could understand Percy.
Who didn't want to stand out? The Weasleys were pure-bloods, yet they were looked down upon compared to the other twenty-seven families.
Understanding was one thing, but approval was another.
There was nothing wrong with striving for success, but Iangenuinely looked down on someone like Percy, who would discard his own family for power.
Fortunately, Percy wasn't entirely cold-hearted; he was still a true Weasley who loved his family deep down.
During the final battle, Percy came to his senses in time, fought the Death Eaters with everything he had, and protected his family.
Fred waved a hand in front of Ian's face and asked him why he was spacing out.
Ian came back to his senses, smiled, and said he was thinking about how business would boom once the joke shop opened, and they could buy whatever they wanted for their family.
George clenched his fist with a firm glint in his eyes, declaring that they would definitely make the shop a resounding success.
Fred nudged their shoulders, saying that since Ian had joined, they needed a new shop name to represent the three of them.
Ian nodded, but he hadn't thought of one yet, so he asked if the twins had any ideas.
George suggested calling it 'Weasleys' and Potter's Joke Shop', but Ian thought it was too long and blunt, failing to show the shop's unique flair.
Fred stroked his chin and came up with 'Joyful Tooth-Dropping Joke Shop', leaving Ian even more speechless, saying it sounded terribly tacky.
The twins exchanged a look and dumped the naming rights directly on Ian.
Ian mused over it for a moment and came out with a name.
"How about 'Hee-Haw Magical Tricks Shop'?"
The twins mulled it over and thought it sounded pretty good and catchy.
And so, the shop name was settled.
Over the next few days, Ian sent a letter to Dobby, asking him to help scout for a suitable store location in Diagon Alley.
Fred and George threw themselves into preparations for the opening—deciding which products to launch, how to set prices, and how to decorate the store, fussing over every detail.
Ian used his connections at Hogwarts to spread the word everywhere about their three-way partnership joke shop.
Even before the shop existed, many people were already eagerly anticipating its arrival.
Life at The Burrow was a completely different story compared to Privet Drive and Manchester.
The Dursleys insisted on strict rules for everything, the Granger house was a cozy little home, while the Weasleyhome was packed with all sorts of unexpected situations.
The mirror on the kitchen mantelpiece startled Ian and Harry the first time they saw it, especially Harry.
As soon as he stood in front of the mirror, it shrieked at him to tuck his shirt into his pants, scolding him for being scruffy.
Ian, on the other hand, quite liked the mirror because it only spoke the truth.
"Auburn hair, green eyes, flawless features—you are simply handsome beyond words!"
It even pressed Ian on whether he and that scruffy little boy earlier were real brothers, remarking that they didn't look alike at all.
Whenever the Ghoul in the attic felt the house was too quiet, it would howl at the top of its lungs and bang loudly on the pipes.
The occasional small explosions in Fred and George's bedroom were treated as everyday occurrences, with Ian's exclamations of amazement heard from time to time.
Ginny finally stopped blushing whenever she faced Ian, and Ian finally got the chance to tease little Ginny.
During those days at The Burrow, Ian occasionally helped the twins out during the day, tinkered with the flying car at night, and was occasionally teased by the two young witches.
He didn't want to be passive, but he only dared to tease Hermione at The Burrow; he truly didn't dare lay a finger on Ginny.
He feared Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would grab their wands and chase him all around the yard.
Mrs. Weasley was, after all, a fierce woman who could duel head-to-head with Bellatrix and end up taking her down.
Days slipped by in a busy yet fulfilling blur, and soon arrived the day Ian had agreed to go with the twins to look at shopfronts in Diagon Alley.
Early in the morning, Ian got out of bed, dressed, washed up, and went downstairs for breakfast.
He stood before the talking mirror and brushed back his bangs.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, tell me: who is the handsomest man in the world?"
The mirror immediately showered him with flattery, declaring that it was of course him, Ian Potter, with his auburn hair, emerald eyes, and flawless features—a true darling of heaven.
Ian nodded in satisfaction, saying that he simply loved hearing the truth.
Chapter 94: Running into Bella Outside the Ice Cream Parlor
Ian preened in front of the mirror once again, thoroughly pleased with what he saw.
With a face like this, even Hufflepuff's Cedric would have to step aside.
"Ian Potter, you really are ridiculously handsome."
He wiggled his eyebrows at his reflection, and his reflection wiggled its eyebrows right back at him.
"Narcissist."
Hermione had walked up behind him without him realizing and patted him with a smile.
"Come on over, Mrs. Weasley has already made breakfast."
"How am I being narcissistic? Am I not telling the truth?"
Ian turned around and grinned at Hermione.
"Are you saying I'm not handsome?"
"You're the most handsome."
Hermione shook her head helplessly and pulled him toward the dining table.
"Eat your breakfast, handsome, or it's going to get cold."
"Alright."
Ian sat down at the dining table with a smile and dug in happily.
When breakfast was over, Dobby appeared right on time at the entrance of The Burrow to pick up Ian and the other two.
"Is this your House-elf?"
Hermione stared curiously at Dobby, who was neatly dressed, looking him up and down.
"How come he looks so different from other house-elves?"
"Miss Hermione."
Dobby bowed slightly to her and spoke politely.
"Because when Master James and Mistress Lily were alive, they didn't like house-elves dressing in rags, so they had us dress properly."
"So that's why."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
"No wonder you're so different from other house-elves."
"You've seen other house-elves?"
Fred leaned over and asked.
"Was it in the Hogwarts kitchens?"
"Right, exactly!"
Hermione and the other young Wizards quickly nodded in agreement.
They didn't want anyone to know about Dobby's situation, so they just went along with Fred's suggestion.
"The house-elves at Hogwarts are all very friendly,"
Ian chimed in.
"I often sneak down to the kitchen in the middle of the night for food, and they're always very generous."
"You often sneak out in the middle of the night to eat?"
Hermione looked at him in surprise.
"How come I've never heard you mention this?"
"Well, I was afraid you'd worry."
Ian brushed it off with a laugh.
"I know you don't like night wandering, but how about this: next time I'll take you along, okay?"
"Sure."
Hermione agreed without a second thought.
Ian froze, looking as if he had seen a ghost.
Whoever is possessing Hermione right now, get out of her body this instant!
Without any world-shattering event happening, Hermioneactually agreed to go night wandering with him?
This made no sense at all.
"*Ahem*—Dobby, how is the matter I asked you to handle going?"
Ian decisively changed the subject.
"It has been settled, Master Ian."
Dobby answered respectfully.
"The shop in that corner of Diagon Alley has been acquired. Here is the contract."
He handed over a piece of parchment.
Ian took it, scanned it briefly, and tucked it into his pocket.
"Awesome, well done."
He patted Dobby on the shoulder with satisfaction.
Dobby was so excited his face flushed red.
"It is an honor to serve Master Ian."
Ian smiled and turned to call Fred and George over.
"Let's go take a look at our new shop."
"Alright, let's go!"
Fred and George cheered in unison.
Dobby gestured for Ian and the other two to hold tight to his hands.
"Master Ian, I can Apparate you and your friends there."
"Apparition?"
Harry stared at Dobby with wide eyes.
"Isn't that a wizarding spell? You can do it too?"
"Yes, Master Harry."
Dobby explained patiently.
"House-elves like us can also learn Wizards' spells as long as we have our master's permission."
"Besides, not every House-elf has the ability. Just like Wizards, it depends on talent."
"I see."
Harry nodded in enlightenment.
Ian, on the other hand, was mulling over something else.
That elf named Dobby had tried to escape using Apparition back then. Judging by this, his talent was indeed quite good, which narrowed down the search area further.
"Let me tell you, we should hurry up."
George couldn't wait any longer.
"I want to see what the new shop looks like right now."
Ian and Fred smiled at each other, and all three of them grabbed Dobby's hands.
Dobby softly recited an incantation, and in the next second, all four of them vanished from The Burrow.
By the time their feet touched solid ground again, they were standing in the bustling Diagon Alley.
"There really are a lot of people today."
Ian muttered as he looked at the bustling crowd around them.
"Term is about to start, of course there are a lot of people."
Fred urged them as he spoke.
"Don't dawdle, let's go check out the shop."
Ian nodded and led Fred, George, and Dobby toward their destination.
Squeezing through the crowded street, they finally found the shop next to Flourish and Blotts.
"This location is really great."
George inspected the storefront in front of him with a look of satisfaction.
"It's right next to Flourish and Blotts. When parents come to buy books with their kids, they'll see us the moment they look up."
"Exactly."
Ian nodded in agreement and pushed open the shop door.
"Let's go inside and take a look."
The space inside the shop was quite spacious, though there was a thick layer of dust, and the furnishings were so old they were almost falling apart.
"This place has been abandoned for quite a few years,"
Dobby explained beside them.
"However, with a good cleaning and renovation, it will definitely look brand new."
"Yeah, with a proper makeover, it'll definitely be a decent shop."
Ian looked around and nodded with satisfaction.
"What style are we planning to renovate it in?"
Fred asked.
"Should it be resplendent and magnificent like Gringotts, or clean and simple like Flourish and Blotts?"
"I've been thinking it needs to have a bit of personality,"
George pondered.
"That way, we can catch the customers' eyes."
"Right, it has to be unforgettable at first glance."
Ian agreed with a nod.
Fred's eyes rolled as an idea popped into his head.
"How about making the storefront look like the three of us standing side by side, tipping our hats? Anyone looking at it would find it funny."
"That's an awesome idea!"
George's eyes lit up.
"Doing it like that, it'll be hard for anyone not to remember us."
The thought of his handsome face being turned into a comical giant sign made Ian feel uneasy all over.
"No, no, no. If you're doing that, just use the two of you."
He waved his hands hastily.
"Besides, you two look identical, so one standee is enough. My oversized poster can just go inside."
"How could that work?"
Fred chuckled.
"You're the big boss of our shop. How could we leave you out? Besides, you're so handsome; standing at the entrance would attract so many female customers."
Ian rolled his eyes.
"Gee, thanks a lot."
"Alright then, young master Ian's portrait will go inside,"
George chimed in.
"And it has to be painted extra large, or it won't suit your grand status."
"Do whatever you want."
Ian waved his hand helplessly.
"I'll leave the renovation entirely to you guys. I have no objections."
As long as they didn't ruin his handsome dignity, the twins could mess around however they wanted.
"Don't worry, we'll make it look absolutely stunning for you."
Fred and George patted their chests and guaranteed.
"Alright, thanks for your hard work then."
As Ian spoke, he pulled a pouch of Galleons from his pocket.
"This is for the renovation. If it's not enough, just ask Dobby."
"Rest assured, Messrs. Weasley, I will keep an eye on the contractors and make sure the shop is spick-and-span."
Dobby hastily assured them.
Fred took the money pouch, weighed it in his hand, and nodded with satisfaction.
"Just wait for the good news."
Ian nodded.
"Then you guys carry on here. I'm going to buy a few things, and we'll head back together later."
"Alright, go ahead."
Fred and George waved him off.
"Leave this place to us."
Without saying more, Ian turned and walked out of the shop.
Watching him walk away, Fred and George exchanged a glance, rubbed their hands together excitedly, and began enthusiastically planning the renovation layout.
"Here, we'll put a product display case and showcase all the new stuff we've cooked up."
"And over there, we can set up a magic prop trial zone so customers can try out the effects themselves."
"Oh, and we need a lounge area so people who get tired of shopping can sit down and take a breather."
"Exactly! With all that, our shop will be completely set."
Fred and George went back and forth, getting more and more excited as they spoke.
Meanwhile, Ian had wandered over to the entrance of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour in Diagon Alley.
"I'd like three servings of your new item—the cherry jam and cream ice cream."
Ian called out to the server.
He remembered Hermione mentioning she wanted to try their new item, so he had to bring one for her.
He couldn't favor one over the other, not to mention he was planning to win over Ginny, so Ginny needed one too.
Mrs. Weasley had always treated him well, and women generally loved sweets, so he'd bring one for Mrs. Weasleyas well.
As for Harry and the others... he'd just buy some random snacks later to deal with them; those guys weren't picky as long as there was something to eat.
In no time at all, the three ice creams were packed up, sealed to stay fresh for three hours.
Ian paid, took the box, turned around, and bumped into someone.
"Sorry, I'm really sorry."
He quickly apologized and looked up, meeting a familiar, pretty face.
"Bella?"
Ian looked surprised.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the US? Did you come alone?"
Chapter 95: A Broken Home and Comfort Taken in Vulnerability
The girl who bumped into him was none other than Alicia.
After she clearly saw that it was Ian, her eyes flushed red instantly, looking as if she had found her sole saving grace.
"Ian..."
"W-what's wrong? Did I hurt you when I bumped into you? I'm so sorry, Bella."
Seeing her on the verge of tears, Ian felt panic rise in his chest.
"Come on, sit down first. Let me see where I hit you."
Alicia shook her head.
"I'm fine, Ian, I..."
"As long as you're okay."
Ian let out a sigh of relief, then pressed on.
"You haven't explained yet. Why are you back so early? There's still half a month before term starts. What happened?"
Hearing his gentle inquiry, Alicia's eyes grew even redder.
Her head drooped, her voice kept very low.
"I just wanted to take a walk by myself. I... I probably won't be going back to America. I'll be staying in Britain from now on..."
"Not going back? Then what about your parents..."
Before Ian could finish, Alicia buried her head into his chest and burst into tears.
"They got divorced! Ian, I don't have a complete home anymore..."
Ian froze for a moment, then gently placed his hand on her back.
"Don't cry, don't cry, Bella. I'm right here."
He never expected that the reason for Alicia's return to Britain was actually this.
Memories of twilight surfaced in his mind—the female lead Bella's parents really had divorced, and had been split up for quite a few years.
He just hadn't expected to run straight into it.
Was taking advantage of her weakness at a moment like this a bit unprincipled?—No! He was clearly comforting her, how could that be called taking advantage!
The little witch in his arms was sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath; Ian knew now wasn't the time to dwell on these thoughts.
First, he needed to comfort her.
His hand continued to gently pat her back, his voice incredibly soft.
"It's alright, Bella. You still have me. I'm always here."
Her weeping gradually subsided, and Alicia lifted her face from his chest, gazing up at him through tear-blurred eyes.
"Ian, I..."
"Alright, don't say anything for now. Let's find a place to sit down and talk slowly."
Ian cut her off and helped her stand upright.
He nodded towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlournearby.
"Shall we sit inside for a bit?"
Alicia nodded and followed him into the ice cream parlour.
There weren't many people inside, so Ian guided her to a seat and settled her down.
"Sit here for a moment. I'll get you something to drink."
With that, he got up and walked over to the counter.
Moments later, he returned with a cup of hot cocoa.
"Take a sip of hot cocoa first to warm up."
Alicia took the cup, quietly thanked him, and took small sips.
Seeing that her emotions had stabilized, Ian finally spoke up.
"What really happened? How did your parents get divorced all of a sudden?"
As soon as he asked this, Alicia's eyes began to redden again.
Lowering her head, she quietly explained the reason behind her parents' divorce.
Simply put, daily friction had worn down their affection until it ultimately led to divorce.
As she spoke, tears rolled down her face once more.
"I don't know how to make them reconcile. Mom was set on divorcing and even brought me back to Devon. She refuses to go back to America. I don't know what to do, Ian..."
Looking at the tearful little witch before him, Ian felt a mix of heartache and a subtle spark of secret joy.
He felt heartache because she had to go through such an ordeal.
He felt secret joy because his opportunity had presented itself right to his doorstep!
Reaching over, he gently took Alicia's hand.
"Bella, even if your parents split up, they're still your parents, and their love for you won't change."
Alicia raised her face, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.
"But... but they've separated, and I don't have a complete home anymore..."
"Bella, forgive me for not being able to truly empathize, but my parents fell victim to Voldemort before I was old enough to remember, and I was thrown into an orphanage because of it. Yet I know they loved Harry and me deeply."
Ian's voice was very soft, but his eyes were filled with gentleness and conviction.
"As long as that love remains, you will always have a home."
"Ian..."
Alicia stared at him blankly, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She squeezed Ian's hand back tightly, holding on as if clinging to a lifeline.
"Don't cry anymore. If you keep crying, you won't look pretty."
Ian pulled out a tissue and gently wiped away the tears from her face.
"I'm staying at Ron's place for a few days. If you're feeling down and want someone to talk to, just send an owl with a letter, and I'll come find you, alright?"
Hearing this, Alicia's tears fell even faster, and her grip on his hand tightened further; her demeanor clearly showed she was taking Ian as her pillar of support.
"Ian, thank you. With you here, I feel much better."
Ian chuckled softly.
"I'll always be here with you."
The two sat in the ice cream parlour for a while longer, and only after Alicia's emotions had completely settled did Ianwalk her home.
As for the twins and Rhombus? How could they compare in importance to the little witch!
On the way taking Alicia back, Ian's mind kept spinning—how should he take advantage—no, how should he make her realize his feelings?
His comforting wasn't out of some bullshit "friendship"; winning over this beautiful little witch was his true objective!
Proximity brings priority; if he raised her affection towards him under her nose every day, would he still need to worry about not having a place in her heart?
Thinking up to this point, Ian gave himself a mental thumbs-up.
Pure genius.
Before long, they arrived in front of Alicia's home.
Ian rang the doorbell and pulled Bella back a few paces.
"Bella! Where did you go!"
As soon as the door opened, a woman with beige-brown hair wearing an apron rushed out quickly.
This person was none other than Alicia's mother—Renée Higginbotham.
Renée wrapped Alicia in a tight hug, her voice strained with anxiety.
"Why are you only coming back now? Do you have any idea how worried I was!"
Alicia patted her back.
"Mom, I'm fine, I just went out to get some fresh air."
Saying so, she let go and pulled Ian over from the side.
"By the way, Mom, this is Ian—Ian Potter. I mentioned him to you before, my friend from Hogwarts. He was worried I might run into danger and insisted on walking me home."
"Child, thank you for walking Bella back."
Renée looked at Ian with deep gratitude.
"I often hear Bella mention you. She says you're the Savior of the magical world."
Ian waved his hands hastily.
"You're too kind, ma'am. Just call me Ian."
"Alright, Ian. If you don't mind, stay for a meal."
Renée invited him warmly.
Ian was just about to agree when a thought struck him: he had been out for so long, the twins and Rhombus were probably still foolishly waiting in the shop. Besides, he hadn't told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley either.
It was already noon, and staying away without notice wouldn't look good.
Furthermore, too much was as bad as too little; he had already gained enough affection points today, and pushing further would seem unnatural.
Plus, he had to leave a good impression on his future mother-in-law.
With these thoughts in mind, Ian politely declined Renée's invitation.
"Thank you for the invitation, ma'am, but I've been out for too long and my friends are still waiting for me. I'm afraid I have to head back."
Renée didn't press the matter.
"Alright, Ian. Feel free to come over and visit Bella often whenever you're free."
"Will do, ma'am."
Ian agreed with a smile, then turned to look at Alicia.
"Bella, I'll come hang out with you another day."
A hint of reluctance flashed in Alicia's eyes, but she still nodded obediently.
"Mm, Ian, I'll be waiting."
Looking at the obedient little witch, Ian really wanted to reach out and pat her head, but taking a glance at Renéewatching closely beside them, he forced himself to hold back.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Renée, he turned to leave.
He needed to give some serious thought to what present to give this girl next time they met.
Preferably something that would make her think of him every time she saw it.