Who can resist the temptation of being the Little Emperor of Ravenclaw? The male Prefect gives you a back rub, the female Prefect washes your feet, and all the students stand before you, welcoming the return of the Ravenclaw Crown.
Such a scene might seem a bit childish to high schoolers.
But for a math undergrad who traveled through time, with no chance to dabble in stocks or bitcoin, no close calls of attending Eton College, and just arriving at Hogwarts Castle to learn magic, it's definitely quite tempting.
"It's all that noseless Tom's fault!" Ian lost the opportunity to ascend as Ravenclaw's ruler, but what Voldemort lost was definitely more than just Melop Gaunt that Ian mentioned.
He would truly take away the cheating Soul Artifact hidden by the wicked mutant in the Room of Requirement.
Misty Illusion Realm.
That would be its final resting place.
"Teacher Mara will like this new toy." Ian tucked the packed Ravenclaw Crown under his arm, conveniently picking up a few orphaned Magic Curse Notes.
He has always been a student with a keen love for learning, and the notes of the outstanding upperclassman long gone would definitely let his magic spell skill level soar.
"Crack~"
Twisting the copper handle of the Room of Requirement.
Ian took one last look at the dazzling room.
He might not take every valuable abandoned item, but he would definitely return to pick some sellable treasures to fund his alchemy studies.
"Buddy, I'll totally protect you in the future." Ian patted the wall of the Room of Requirement, remembering that Hogwarts has always had a mind of its own.
"Actually, I'm just taking things nobody wants, Little Harry is the one liberating others' private property without permission. Compared to that, my face is just a bit thinner!"
Ian pulled the full copper door handle and stepped out of the Room of Requirement. However, before he could close the door, a feeble voice suddenly reached his ears.
"It seems like you want to take something from inside, child."
Turning his head.
The one who spoke was none other than Silly Barnabas within the wall painting. The Giant wasn't attacking him anymore but resting under the fruit tree, panting heavily during the halftime break.
"Isn't it allowed?"
Ian asked, somewhat puzzled.
"If it's other things, of course, no problem. Treasures without owners belong to the discoverer and the needy. It's a secret, the romantic legacy of the Middle Ages' treasure hunting craze." Silly Barnabas was also taking his halftime break, lying on a rock with his bloated bottom and cheek sticking out, looking out of the frame.
What he said made a lot of sense.
If Hogwarts itself didn't want future visitors to take these things, why actively present these ownerless hidden items to them?
They are hidden items, after all.
If anyone could see them, no one would have thought to hide things here.
"Thank the ancestors, thank the founders, thank Hogwarts." Ian expressed gratitude to everyone, showcasing his well-rounded inclusivity.
Silly Barnabas' gaze was fixed on the crown under Ian's arm, and he spoke again, "I just don't advise you to take that crown, it's been tainted with dark magic..."
An unexpected remark.
"You actually know about this?" Ian was a bit surprised.
Silly Barnabas sighed and nodded, "Years ago, I watched that small wizard full of evil hide Ravenclaw's Laurel Crown here in the Comings and Goings Room."
Just as Hogwarts has witnessed every secret that transpired here, the often-overlooked wall paintings have silently observed many stories that once occurred.
This made Ian a bit curious.
"Why didn't you tell the school's professors about it?" He knew the wall paintings could communicate with the outside witches and wizards, and some characters would even visit other paintings for gossip.
"Because that wretched guy put an unspeakable curse on me; I can't tell anyone who doesn't know about the crown being here anything related to it!"
Silly Barnabas' voice was filled with indignation.
"Until you showed up here in the Comings and Goings Room, I had never seen such an evil little wizard as him, and in you, I see a decisiveness and ruthlessness that only Middle Ages wizards possessed."
As a wizard from centuries or even eons ago, Silly Barnabas had a different name for the Room of Requirement, and perhaps he wasn't the fool everyone thought he was.
"One of my elders once taught me that kindness is only a blade when you are away from home." Ian didn't think he was a bad kid.
Peeves was right in his face.
He managed to restrain his instinctive reaction, choosing Sectemsempra, the gentlest attack magic he mastered, out of instinctive self-preservation.
If he wanted to render someone defenseless, Ian could only pick from Imperio, Fiendfyre, Crucio, Killing Curse, and Sectemsempra.
If not caught off guard.
Even if a little wizard provoked him.
Ian would surely only resort to the Dancing Spell and Ancestral Tomb Dance Curse as a counter-strategy.
"That's rare, you actually adhere to the survival rules of the wandering school."
"Your elders must not have come from a House, hmm, perhaps that's true; to catch and punish Peeves, you must have some extraordinary ancient wizard heritage."
Silly Barnabas initially made a reasonable assumption, but then his following comment made it unsurprising that he's been whipped by the Giant in the painting for so many years.
"Perhaps your ancestors slept with a banshee."
He made the claim with a tone of certainty.
Causing Ian to feel the urge to draw a few giant teddy bears there.
"But my ancestors were surely never spanked by a giant."
A perfect hit.
Silly Barnabas showed a bitter melon face.
"Regardless, I still hope you don't take that crown; it's too dangerous. The treasure tainted by dark magic can't give you wisdom anymore." Silly Barnabas continued to advise Ian, likely thinking Ian intended to use the Ravenclaw Crown for learning.
"Don't worry, I'll handle this piece with care. I do have some research in soul studies, and I'm not foolish enough to put it on my head."
Ian slightly bowed to thank Silly Barnabas for his goodwill, tucked the small box containing the crown, and walked towards the stairs. His pockets and robe jingled with the delightful clink of Golden Galleons.
"You seem to be helping Hogwarts solve a problem, but I still think you're worse than that guy. Who starts researching souls in their first year anyway..."
Behind him.
Silly Barnabas only had time to sigh a line before the Giant under the tree in the painting, after resting, grabbed the big club from the ground and began another round of beating him.