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Chapter 388 - HR Chapter 157 The Returning Wanderer Part 6

This system was markedly different from what Ian was used to before coming to Hogwarts.

"Next, Miss Aurora Grindelwald. During the Ashwinder incident, she used remarkably deft spellwork to rescue seven rather thoughtless students. For this act of bravery and camaraderie, Slytherin is awarded an additional fifty points."

Dumbledore's tone was warm and encouraging.

But at the Slytherin table, Aurora sat with a faint frown. She barely acknowledged the congratulatory murmurs around her, instead focused on parsing the intent behind Dumbledore's phrasing.

"I only helped them because I didn't want anyone's blood splashing onto my robes. Cleaning it out later is such a bother."

Most students chalked it up to her being her usual frosty self, mistaking it for tsundere behaviour. In truth, she was likely just being honest.

Still, Dumbledore awarded her the points, perhaps hoping a gentle nudge would set her on a brighter path.

"And finally, Mr. Ian Prince. Through wit and valour, he risked his life to uncover and confront the dark wizard who infiltrated our school. In the face of overwhelming danger, he acted with clarity and composure, preventing a catastrophe before it could unfold."

"This accomplishment… is one I have rarely seen in all my years at Hogwarts. He not only safeguarded us all but also brought justice for our dearly departed Professor Quirrell."

For the first time, Ian felt Dumbledore's mastery of rhetoric in full.

Not a single falsehood, yet every word polished his image like a well-cast Scourgify. The headmaster had even managed to frame Quirrell's demise as a noble sacrifice, likely the official story circulated by the Ministry.

"Quirrell the traitor got off lightly," Ian thought, speculating that the Voldemort affair had likely been swept under the rug. Perhaps the Ministry didn't want to acknowledge the Dark Lord's survival, instead spinning a tidy tale: a dark wizard infiltrated Hogwarts, murdered a professor, and was ultimately stopped by a courageous student. A convenient conclusion, polished and palatable.

Just as Ian was mulling over what the "higher-ups" might be scheming,

Albus Dumbledore, after a pause, raised his voice once more.

"And so, I am awarding him one hundred points. Such bravery and presence of mind merit nothing less."

As soon as the words left his lips, the Great Hall exploded with applause and shouting.

Absolutely deafening.

"Merlin's beard! Why didn't you tell us?" William cried, clutching Ian's arm as if it were a lifeline. "You vanquished a dark wizard and said nothing?!"

"A dark wizard who killed a professor, no less!" Michael shouted over the noise, ensuring the entire hall, including the other Houses, could hear him loud and clear.

"You're brilliant!"

"The little professor has saved us all again! Why 'again'? You lot don't know? That gas mask of his once saved us from an outbreak!"

"Too right! Two foolhardy Gryffindors nearly unleashed some foul curse-rot! Heard it spreads only between boys and girls!"

"Oh, what a noble debt! I have only my heart to offer in return! Let's go out, darling Ian!"

Cheers and shouts burst from the Ravenclaw long table, and even the Gryffindors joined in the clapping. They always admired courage and talent, regardless of House.

"Just another day, just doing my bit, no need for gifts, wait, who spilled pumpkin juice on my robes? And stop trying to undress me!" Even with his enchanted gas mask still snug on his face, Ian found himself swarmed by hands, hugs, and attempts at flirtation.

He began weaving and ducking through a barrage of senior students, especially the girls, dodging their affections like spells in a duel. From the staff table, Albus Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and the other professors looked on, oddly delighted by the chaos.

"Now, let the feast begin."

The Great Hall buzzed like a hive.

At long last, the House Cup ceremony had concluded. Just as Ian darted through the crowd, Dumbledore's wand flicked once, and a splendid banquet appeared on the long tables. Glorious platters and steaming dishes shimmered into view.

The irresistible scent of food diverted most of Ian's would-be admirers—their love for the young hero could not compete with their hunger.

Ian took the chance to slip away to the Slytherin long table. When he sat beside Aurora, he was met not with sneers or jeers, but with startled respect. A younger witch swiftly wiped the table clean before vacating the seat entirely, as if sitting beside a dark wizard slayer might cause misfortune.

In their eyes, Ian had struck down a dark wizard today; by tomorrow, he might just hex their parents.

And given how many pure-blooded Slytherins had dark wizards in the family tree… who wouldn't be nervous?

"This is all just part of your self-promotion," Aurora said flatly, launching into her usual mix of analysis and mild disdain.

"Maybe," Ian replied with a shrug, "but let's not dissect it tonight. Could you pass the roast beef? Preferably, the bits you haven't chewed on."

"My, your little mask can handle roast beef now?" Aurora raised an eyebrow as she passed the platter. "That's… surprisingly well-enchanted."

"It's my own enchantment! Actually, now that it's made a splash, these gas masks will be available next term. They block at least five hundred known potion effects," Ian said with the enthusiasm of a street vendor hawking charmed trinkets.

The look on his face suggested that the more people who bought them, the more he regretted not pricing them higher.

Annoying? Possibly. But the quality of his magical devices was beyond reproach; those who bought them never felt short-changed.

Aurora, though, had an uncanny ability to see through his every scheme.

"So once the five hundred known effects are surpassed, are you planning to release a newer model?" she asked dryly, as though she'd already seen the advertisement in the Daily Prophet.

"..." Silence rippled around the Slytherin table.

Only when someone exposed the truth so plainly did Ian ever find himself short for words.

"Who are you planning to scam with your sweets next term?" Aurora asked, resting her chin on one hand while absently twirling a spoon with the other.

"That's not the right word! Scam is far too crude. My sweets are potent charms, crafted with care!" Ian corrected her, intentionally ignoring the core of her question.

"Didn't you fool the Gryffindor twins into testing them? They're still quarantined in the hospital wing! Madam Pomfrey won't even let them near the feast, even after they took your antidote."

Aurora snatched an onion ring off Ian's plate with a flick of her fingers.

"They asked me for something to avoid exams. So tell me, did they succeed?"

Ian gave a sly smirk, and for once, Aurora found herself without a retort.

"..." She bit into the onion ring thoughtfully.

"And they gave me a glowing five-star review," Ian added proudly.

That part was true, dozens of students had seen it. The twins had been hauled off in a transparent, spellproof containment box, while Ian sold gas masks in the corridor.

"Oh! He actually profited from our prank!" George had shouted.

"Even if he used us, I stand by what I said, he's the future of magical mischief. My instincts were spot on!" Fred had added with a grin.

At least, that's how Ian remembered it.

(To Be Continued…)

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