“No,” Ian shook his head, playing absently with Harry’s wand.
“I was getting a bit too impatient.” “He’s just a child, after all, yet here I am teaching a child how to fight.” A self-deprecating smile forced its way onto Ian’s face.
“Do you regret it, then?
Ian!” Gandalf’s phantom floated alongside Ian, his eyes fixed on Harry’s wand.
His sharp perception as a Maiar allowed him to see things that Ian couldn’t, which made him rather curious about Harry.
Ian didn’t notice Gandalf’s peculiar look.
Upon hearing Gandalf’s words, the gloom on his face vanished completely.
“No.
If he were just any ordinary young wizard, I might regret it.
But he isn’t.
He’s Harry, and he has a opponent he’s destined to face waiting for him.” Hearing this, Gandalf nodded thoughtfully.
After a brief pause, Gandalf suddenly asked, “Then how about leaving Harry to me?” “You?” Ian turned to him in surprise.
“Hmm!” “Why?” Ian asked further.
Gandalf’s phantom floated forward and said in a playful tone, “Would you be upset if I said Harry is very suited to being my student?” “Hmm?” Hearing Gandalf’s words, Ian couldn’t help raising an eyebrow.
He knew Gandalf all too well; there had to be a reason behind this that he wasn’t aware of.
In the end, however, Ian agreed: “Alright, but only after term starts.
When the time comes, I’ll have him bring you along!” Gandalf didn’t say anything more.
He knew that besides wanting him to teach Harry, Ian’s main priority was having him protect Harry.
Right at that moment, a tapping noise echoed from the balcony.
The two turned toward the sound and saw a gray owl lightly pecking at the window glass.
Ian looked confused at first, but in the next instant, realization struck—it was a letter from Hogwarts.
Ian walked over quickly, opened the window, and let the little creature in.
The owl held an envelope in its beak.
Just as Ian reached out to take it, the bird dodged out of reach, staring up at him with wide, round eyes instead.
“I believe she might be hungry!” Gandalf leaned over, taking a puff from a pipe that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and offered a smiling reminder.
“Right, I almost forgot—these little guys are all absolute gluttons.” Ian slapped his forehead, finally remembering.
He gave the little owl a quick word of assurance and turned to leave the training room.
Moments later, Ian returned holding a box of nuts.
He set the nuts down in front of the owl and finally retrieved the letter.
“Dear Mr.
Ian Evans, We are pleased to inform you that your application for employment (Teaching Assistant for Herbology) has been accepted.
Please report to the school by August 30th.
Note: Please arrive via Floo Powder (Destination: Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress’s Office).
If you intend to use another method, please inform us in advance.
Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall” “Yes!” Ian couldn’t help letting out a cheer.
“You seem quite excited?” Gandalf asked curiously upon seeing this.
Ian shook his head, looking profound.
“Gandalf, you don’t understand.
Hogwarts houses the largest library in all of Europe, filled with countless treasures of knowledge!
Just as you said before, I can go and read all those books openly and legitimately.
Just think about how wonderful that will be!” Watching Ian lose himself in daydreams of a wonderful future, Gandalf nodded understandingly.
“True enough.
I almost forgot you have that habit of hoarding knowledge.
I remember when we first went to Rivendell, you pestered the Elven King until you transcribed a whole chest’s worth of parchment with elven magic.
And then there was your desire to debate the secrets of skin-changing with Beorn, which nearly ended in a fistfight.
Oh, right, right!
Baggins even told me you once tried to sneak a peek at his magic ring…” “Stop!” Seeing Gandalf continuously digging up his dark past, Ian’s face darkened completely.
He hurriedly sheathed the sword, muttering under his breath, “I think you’re better off staying a riddler.
Being a chatterbox really doesn’t fit your character, Gandalf!” In the days that followed, Ian’s routine became exceptionally structured.
Every morning brought an unshakeable run with Harry, followed by tutoring his schoolwork in the morning, an hour of spell training in the afternoon, and reflecting on the day’s mistakes in the study at night.
This dull yet fulfilling routine continued all the way until August 30th.
On that day, the two walked side by side after finishing their morning workout.
Along the way, Ian glanced sideways at Harry, whose height had already shot up to his chin, his eyes filled with immense gratification.
After nearly a month of exercise and proper nutrition, Harry had undergone a complete transformation.
Not only had he grown a full head taller, but he had also built visible muscle, no longer looking so frail that a gust of wind could knock him over.
A newfound confidence shone on his face—a transformation brought on by actual strength.
Over the past month, Harry’s growth in strength had far exceeded Ian’s expectations.
Especially when it came to combat, he possessed talent far beyond ordinary people, truly living up to his role as the protagonist.
“Harry, I’ll be leaving for Hogwarts early today, so I’m sorry I won’t be able to see you off to school,” Ian said, looking at Harry with an apologetic expression.
A brief flash of disappointment crossed Harry’s face.
He, too, had hoped to have family see him off on his first day of school, and Ian was undoubtedly the most suitable person.
Still, Harry understood priorities.
Shaking off his gloom, he smiled once more.
“Don’t worry.
Don’t you trust me?
I can handle it on my own.” Ian nodded.
He did trust Harry; sometimes, the boy was sensible to a heart-wrenching degree.
Even so, Ian unbuckled the sword from his waist and handed it over.
Harry took the sword, looking at Ian with a face full of confusion.
Ian explained, “Inside this sword is…
well, an elder of yours.
He will protect you in my place, so make sure you never let him get too far away from you, understood?” Though puzzled as to how an elder could reside inside a sword, Harry knew Ian wouldn’t lie to him.
He tightly gripped the ancient sword, feeling the heavy weight radiating from the scabbard, and gave a firm nod.
“I’ll remember.
I’ll keep it with me at all times.” Ian nodded and continued walking forward.
After a long pause, Ian’s voice suddenly rang out again: “Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.” …
Hogwarts, Deputy Headmistress’s Office.
With a flash of green flames, Ian emerged in the office fireplace.
Stepping out with a leather trunk in hand, he patted the dust off his clothes and looked apologetically at Professor McGonagall, who had clearly been waiting for some time.
“My apologies, Professor.
I’m not late, am I?” Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, making her look all the more stern.
She stared at Ian for a long time—so long that Ian began to wonder if there was something wrong with his appearance—before she finally spoke.
“You are not late, Mr.
Evans.” Professor McGonagall’s voice sounded somewhat displeased.
Yet Ian was absolutely certain he hadn’t done anything to offend Hogwarts’s de facto headmistress.
He even racked his brain trying to remember if he had ever angered her during his school days, but came up completely empty.
Unable to figure it out, Ian looked at Professor McGonagall uneasily, looking for all the world like a student waiting for a scolding.
Minerva McGonagall gazed at the student before her, recalling what Dumbledore had said to her earlier.
“Mr.
Evans,” Professor McGonagall’s tone finally softened slightly, though it still carried a hint of scrutiny, “Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned you.” Her words, far from putting Ian at ease, made him even more anxious.
Straightening his back, he asked cautiously, “May I ask how Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned me?
Also, you may just call me Ian.” Seeming to realize that talking about the Headmaster behind his back wasn’t a good idea, Professor McGonagall didn’t answer the question.
Keeping a stern face, she adopted a strictly businesslike manner.
“Mr.
Evans, could you explain why you wished to apply for the position of Herbology Teaching Assistant?
Or do you have some dissatisfaction with Pomona Sprout’s teaching?” Upon hearing this, Ian’s eyes widened instantly, and he hastily refuted, “Professor, you can’t frame me like that!
I’ve always held Professor Sprout in the highest respect.” Seeing Ian’s desperate eagerness to explain brought a hint of a smile to the depths of McGonagall’s eyes.
She felt Ian wasn’t at all like what Dumbledore had made him out to be.
“Very well, Mr.
Evans,” Professor McGonagall cut off Ian’s defense.
“You can call me Ian,” Ian reminded her softly once more, only to be glared back into silence by Professor McGonagall.
“Mr.
Evans—fine, Ian—I have no further questions here.
Next, you’ll need to see Professor Sprout to go over the specific responsibilities of the assistant position in detail.
Ah, right, this is your appointment letter.” Saying this, Professor McGonagall pulled a document from her drawer and handed it to Ian.
Ian accepted it with both hands, took a single quick glance, and casually stuffed it into his pocket.
“As a Herbology Teaching Assistant, you may borrow books from most areas of the library, though the Restricted Section remains subject to limitations—you may only borrow from it twice a week.
Additionally, your quarters are arranged on the third floor of the castle’s east wing, near the greenhouses.
Professor Pomona Sprout will take you to familiarize yourself with the assistant duties shortly.” Seeing how casually Ian treated the letter, Professor McGonagall frowned imperceptibly, but still instructed him dutifully, though her tone cooled considerably by the end.
Ian had no idea how he had offended the professor again, but seeing that McGonagall had already buried her head back in her work, he had no choice but to take his leave sensibly.
After Ian left, Professor McGonagall looked up at the closed door, shook her head, and resumed her work.
“Dumbledore is getting lazier and lazier.
This was supposed to be his job!” Ian gently closed the door behind him, letting out a long, deep sigh as he heard the faint sound from inside.
Being alone with Professor McGonagall was never a pleasant experience, especially when she was working.
Fortunately, nothing had gone wrong.
He held up his appointment letter, a flash of joy gleaming in his eyes.
“And now, for a wonderful school life!” Picking up his leather trunk, Ian walked down the familiar castle corridor toward the greenhouses.
For a fleeting moment, it felt as though nothing in the castle had changed at all.