Dumbledore left in the end without answering his question directly, offering only a parting phrase: “I shall need to check with Pomona.” Shortly after Dumbledore departed, Ian suddenly found himself under Harry’s unwavering stare.
Unable to take Harry staring at him any longer, Ian asked helplessly, “What are you trying to say?
Why do you keep staring at me?” “Are you planning to apply for a professorship at Hogwarts?” Harry asked.
“No, that’s just a teaching assistant position, not a professorship!” Ian corrected him.
“A teaching assistant…
fine.” Harry nodded, unbothered by the distinction, and pressed further.
“Why did you think of going to Hogwarts, especially as a teaching assistant?” As mentioned before, Harry was actually quite sharp.
His childhood experiences had taught him to keenly grasp the heart of any matter.
Just like now, intuition told him that Ian’s motives were anything but simple.
Yet right at that moment, it dawned on Harry that he didn’t even know what Ian actually did for a living.
That manor was clearly not something an ordinary person could own.
Are all wizards this rich?
thought Harry, who had not yet met the Weasley family.
Harry looked at Ian and asked tentatively, “Ian, what do you actually do?
Don’t you have to work?” The suspicious look in Harry’s eyes left Ian completely speechless.
Clearly, Harry viewed Ian as one of those shady, law-breaking types—much like how he was always suspicious of his professors in the original story.
Ian’s gaze began to turn dangerous.
“What are you thinking?” Startled, Harry jumped back a few paces.
“No, nothing!
I wasn’t thinking anything!” “Hmph!” Ian let out a soft grunt, choosing to let him off the hook.
Knowing he was safe, Harry sidled back over.
Understanding that Ian didn’t want to answer that particular question, he wisely changed the subject.
The recently departed Dumbledore seemed like a good topic.
“Ian, why do you think Headmaster Dumbledore came by today?” Hearing Harry’s question, Ian cast him a surprised look.
Noticing Ian’s surprise, Harry raised his eyebrows triumphantly.
“Am I wrong?” “Oh?” Seeing his reaction, Ian grew interested.
“Then why don’t you tell me what you think?” Harry looked even more pleased with himself.
If he had a tail behind him, it surely would have been wagging high in the air by now.
“Look, Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, right?” Ian nodded.
“Since he’s the Headmaster, he must be extremely busy.
Things like home visits are usually done by other teachers,” Harry added in a lower voice, “That’s how it was at my old primary school.” Ian nodded again.
“That’s right.
Home visits are usually handled by the Heads of House.
Professors like McGonagall and Snape are doing that very job this holiday.” “Professor McGonagall?
Snape?” Harry was confused.
He knew Hogwarts was divided into four houses, but he didn’t know who the Head of each house was.
Ian explained, “Minerva McGonagall is the Head of Gryffindor and also the Transfiguration professor.
She taught both me and your parents.” Hearing Ian’s words, Harry’s eyes lit up instantly, his opinion of this professor soaring to the absolute highest level.
Because his mother and father had been Gryffindors.
Guessing his thoughts, Ian gave Harry a look of pity.
While Professor McGonagall was indeed a Gryffindor, she was extraordinarily strict.
On top of that, she was the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts; even her own house’s little lions didn’t dare misbehave in her presence.
“Snape is the Head of Slytherin House and the Potions professor.” Harry nodded.
He knew about Potions—the cauldron on his school list was prepared for that very class.
Seeing this, a wicked smile touched the corners of Ian’s lips as he continued his introduction.
“As far as I know, Snape was also a suitor of your mother’s.
You could say the two of them grew up together as childhood friends.” Hearing this, Harry showed a spark of interest.
It was always good to learn more about his mother’s school days.
However, the grin on Ian’s face turned even more peculiar.
“I also happen to know that during their school years, James, Sirius, and the rest loved using the Levicorpus spell to humiliate Snape.” Ian even “thoughtfully” explained the effect of the Levicorpus spell to Harry.
Ian keenly caught the subtle shift in Harry’s expression, and his smile deepened.
“I also know that in their fifth year, Snape was pushed by them into using the word ‘Mudblood’ right in front of your mother.” “Mudblood?” Harry’s brow furrowed tightly.
He intuitively sensed that this was not a pleasant word.
At the mention of the word, Ian’s own expression soured slightly, but to satisfy his desire for mischief, he suppressed his discomfort and explained, “It’s a racially derogatory slur used in the wizarding world against Muggle-born wizards.” “That single incident led to a complete and total rift in their relationship.” Finally, Ian brought the topic to a close with the remark, “Snape has remained single to this day,” before staring at Harry with great relish.
He really wanted to see what kind of expression Harry would make when the image of his father crumbled.
Besides, Harry would soon have to face Snape in person—what kind of story would unfold between the two of them then?
At this moment, the flame of gossip in Ian’s heart was burning completely out of control.
As for the feud between James and Snape, Ian would claim he had merely discovered it by “accident”—truly, pure accident.
Harry did not disappoint Ian.
By now, he was no longer thinking about what Dumbledore’s motives might be.
Instead, his small face was twisted in distress, looking as though he wanted to speak but hesitated.
After a long silence, Harry finally spoke, his voice dry.
“So…
my dad was just a bully at school?” Harry stared at Ian without blinking, his eyes a tangle of confusion, shame, and a faint, subtle trace of hope.
What was he hoping for?
Was he hoping to hear a different answer from Ian’s lips?
The mischievous amusement that had filled Ian’s heart vanished by more than half the moment his eyes met those green ones.
He fell silent for a moment before replying gravely, “Harry, the label ‘bully’ is far too simplistic.” Harry’s eyes brightened, his lips pressed white, but he didn’t interrupt.
“The young James was proud, brash, loved to show off, and…
indeed engaged in bullying, especially toward Professor Snape.” Seeing Harry’s expression darken again, Ian quickly picked up his pace.
“However, he was also one of the purest embodiments of Gryffindor courage.” “Furthermore, after his sixth year, he matured considerably.
He reined in those excessive pranks and began to truly understand responsibility and respect.” “In the end, he won Lily’s heart—and you should know, the Evanses aren’t easy people to win over.” Hearing this, Harry nodded in agreement, a proud expression returning to his face.
He, Harry Potter, was not only a child of the Potter family, but of the Evans family as well.
At the sight, Ian rubbed Harry’s messy head with satisfaction, ruffling his hair into complete disarray.
“Harry, your father sacrificed himself in the end to protect your mother and you.
For that alone, he is a hero.” He just wasn’t powerful enough!
Ian left the second half of the thought unsaid.
Hearing Ian’s final verdict on his father, Harry’s mood finally brightened considerably.
“Alright, enough of that.
Let’s get back to your guess from earlier and see how much you can figure out.” Ian smoothly redirected Harry’s attention back to Dumbledore, passing over the unpleasant topic.
Harry gathered his thoughts and began his reasoning once more.
“Um, where were we?
Right, home visits.” “If a home visit doesn’t require the Headmaster himself, then his visit today couldn’t have been simple.
He must have had a purpose.” “And so?” “I don’t know!” Harry shrugged.
Ian nearly threw out his back in exasperation.
“Then what was the point of all that analysis?” “Didn’t I reach a conclusion?
Dumbledore had a purpose.” Harry spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Besides, don’t I have you?” Ian was left completely speechless.
Yet on second thought, Ian understood Harry’s mindset at this moment.
The biggest reason was Ian himself.
He remembered that just yesterday, Harry had maintained a sense of vigilance and distance toward him, even though Ian was his uncle.
Now, perhaps because Harry had finally felt Ian’s sincerity toward him, he had let down part of his guard, and his personality had become noticeably brighter and more open.
Realizing this, Ian momentarily didn’t know what to say.
He let out a quiet sigh and said, “You guessed right.
Dumbledore did have another purpose in coming today.
Aside from checking on your condition, he was observing.” “Observing what?” Harry pressed.
“Observing you, and observing me,” Ian answered candidly.
Hearing this, Harry was instantly confused.
“Observing me?
What’s there to observe about me?” Ian was thoroughly immune to Harry’s occasional cluelessness by now and said testily, “Have you forgotten who you actually are?” “You’re Harry.
You’re both the Boy Who Lived and the Savior of the Wizarding World.” Hearing Ian bring up those two deeply embarrassing titles once again, Harry couldn’t help but flush red.
“What the hell are you blushing for!” Ian was practically dying of exasperation.
Seeing that Ian’s expression was off, Harry immediately straightened up and adopted a serious attitude.
Ian took a deep breath and continued, “Remember that wizard who attacked Gringotts yesterday?” Harry nodded, lingering fear in his eyes.
“That was the Dark Lord.
It was Voldemort.” Ian unceremoniously dropped Voldemort’s secret identity.
“Vol…
de…” Before Harry could even finish uttering the name, Ian raised a hand to stop him.
His expression turned extraordinarily grim as he stared into Harry’s eyes—or rather, at the scar on his forehead—and instructed sternly, “Anyone else can speak that name, but you cannot.
You must call him the Dark Lord or You-Know-Who.” “Why?” Harry asked, bewildered.
Ian pondered for a brief moment.
“Voldemort placed a magical taboo on his name.
The moment anyone speaks it, he senses it.” “And as for you…” Ian offered no further explanation, merely pointing at Harry’s forehead.
Harry couldn’t help touching the scar on his forehead.
Recalling the agonizing pain that had wracked the scar yesterday, a thoughtful look crossed his face.
“So…” Ian’s words brought Harry back to reality.
Seeing the mischievous, ominous smile on Ian’s face, an inexplicable sense of unease flashed through his heart, and he couldn’t help swallowing hard.
“So starting tomorrow, I will train you rigorously to raise your strength as much as possible.” Ian placed his right hand firmly on Harry’s shoulder, speaking with deep meaning, “Harry, Hogwarts is not safe.
Are you ready?”