This was a vast underground chamber, clearly expanded using an Undetectable Extension Charm.
The moment Ian stepped inside, it was as if an ancient magic had been triggered.
A cluster of brilliant white flame burst into life above the domed ceiling, casting light downward and illuminating the entire space as bright as day, laying every detail bare.
A sight that would shock many wizarding families revealed itself.
Rows of towering bookshelves stood in neat alignment, tagged with labels that seemed to follow some mysterious sorting system, packed entirely with books.
There were heavy, leather-bound tomes, yellowed parchment volumes, and even a few clay and stone tablets engraved with mysterious symbols and illustrations.
The entrance door closed behind Ian.
He didn’t spare a glance at the surrounding bookshelves, simply walking forward at an unhurried pace, his footfalls echoing loudly in the quiet space.
Before long, he passed through the rows of bookshelves and arrived before a circular raised platform.
The platform was constructed like a stepped pyramid, with an object resting on each tier of the stairs.
On one tier sat a cluster of blue flame sealed inside a crystal vial; on another hung a crimson cloak draped on a stand; on yet another lay a seed that looked completely ordinary…
Naturally, many of the steps were currently vacant, seemingly awaiting new treasures.
Ian let his eyes sweep over the items on the platform, pausing for a brief second on the ordinary-looking seed and a dragon egg before quickly moving on.
His gaze finally settled on a unremarkable-looking compass.
After a moment’s thought, Ian reached out and picked up the compass.
With a flick of his pinky finger, the domed protective cover popped open, revealing an inner lid engraved with star charts and a compass dial fashioned from walrus ivory—complete with the black shadow-needle at its center.
Ian gripped the compass, staring at the shadow-needle spinning endlessly around the dial, seemingly anticipating something.
In the end, however, he let out a disappointed sigh.
“Still won’t work, huh?” With a firm squeeze of his hand, several cracks instantly spiderwebbed across the compass’s surface, and wisps of dark mist seeped out from within.
Moments later, the compass crumbled entirely into fine sand, slipping through the gaps between Ian’s fingers.
Captain Jack’s compass was meant to point toward whatever the holder desired most at that exact moment—be it a location, a treasure, or a person.
It wasn’t a navigational tool; it was a detector of desire.
As long as your heart was clear and you knew precisely what you wanted, it would guide your way.
Unfortunately, this was merely a knockoff Ian had replicated from Jack, lacking that miraculous enchantment.
Still, Ian had already recorded the magical runes inscribed upon that compass.
Given enough time, he was confident he could complete a functional version.
“Though if it comes to that, Hogwarts becomes unavoidable!” Ian rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a slight headache coming on.
Gazing at the remaining dust of the compass scattering from his hand, Ian let out a soft sigh before turning his attention once more toward the rows of bookshelves.
He had accumulated these books bit by bit over time.
Though his collection was rich enough, most of what he had here was foundational knowledge.
Replicating that compass perfectly using only this would be far from enough.
And when it came to advanced Dark Arts, nothing surpassed the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library.
“Hogwarts…” Ian repeated softly under his breath, his brows furrowing slightly.
To be frank, Ian really didn’t want to get overly entangled with that thousand-year-old castle—especially when it meant dealing with a certain century-old wizard wandering around its corridors all day.
Just thinking about it was enough to give him a headache.
“Perhaps you could go there as a professor!” Just as Ian was wavering, an old, resonant voice spoke up behind him.
Ian turned his head to look.
The voice had come from a sword resting on one of the steps on the far side of the platform.
Ian didn’t seem surprised at all by the talking sword, countering instead, “A professor?” The blade of the sword trembled slightly, and a soft, brilliant glow flowed slowly from its hilt, condensing in the air into a shimmering phantom figure.
It was an elder dressed in grey robes and a pointed hat, holding a wooden staff.
His hair and beard were snow-white, but his eyes sparkled with deep, world-wise wisdom.
Upon appearing, the old man didn’t answer Ian’s question immediately, choosing instead to look around the chamber with open curiosity.
Only after a long while did he withdraw his gaze and look at Ian, sighing fondly, “Long time no see, Ian!” At this, Ian rolled his eyes, responding peevishly, “Gandalf, we literally parted ways last month.” “Besides, you’re not even the real Gandalf.
You’re just a sliver of his consciousness.” The sword was an extraordinary artifact Ian had brought back from Middle-earth.
This was where Ian’s eleven-year disappearance came into play.
Back then, after receiving Lily’s letter, Ian had ultimately decided to return to Britain.
Yet the moment he stepped foot onto British soil, he was somehow targeted and ambushed by Death Eaters.
Though Ian’s strength was nowhere near as frail as he usually made it out to be, that didn’t mean he could comfortably handle a frantic, indiscriminate siege from over thirty Death Eaters at once.
One had to remember that Voldemort hadn’t fallen yet at the time, and the Death Eaters represented the elite layer of the British wizarding world.
What was worse, those people held no reservations whatsoever, and Unforgivable Curses were their absolute bread and butter.
So, after slaying over a dozen Death Eaters, Ian was eventually backed into a desperate corner.
At the final critical juncture, some bastard’s magical artifact somehow triggered a spatio-temporal fluctuation.
Ian was swept directly into a rift of temporal chaos, vanishing entirely from this world.
However, that disaster had also activated Ian’s golden finger: the ability to locate and travel to fantasy universes from his memories, with the permission to bring back one extraordinary artifact from that universe after a year’s stay.
And so, Ian began his journey through time and space—with Middle-earth being his very last stop.
In Middle-earth, Ian had unexpectedly befriended Gandalf and his company, who were preparing for their expedition to the Lonely Mountain.
He had joined their party as a fellow wizard.
Though it had only been a single year, he had forged a deep and lasting friendship with Gandalf and the others.
When it came time to depart, Gandalf had sealed a sliver of his consciousness inside his personal sword, transforming the otherwise ordinary blade into a magical artifact powerful enough for Ian to take with him.
After leaving Middle-earth, Ian finally managed to locate the spatial coordinates for the Harry Potter universe, bringing his journey across space and time to an end.
That was why Ian had spoken to Gandalf in such a casual, irreverent manner.
“Heh heh.” Gandalf didn’t mind Ian’s attitude at all.
He simply let out a low chuckle, his eyes fixed playfully on Ian.
Uncomfortable under Gandalf’s gaze, Ian awkwardly shifted the subject.
“Alright, you were saying I should go to Hogwarts and take a job as a professor?” Knowing when to stop, Gandalf nodded, explaining, “I recall you mentioning Hogwarts to me before.
Since you need to go there anyway, why not enter directly as a professor?” “You could impart your knowledge to others while accessing those magic books without drawing unwanted suspicion.” Ian’s gaze sharpened slightly as he stared at Gandalf’s projection.
Through the translucent figure, Ian could see the rows of bookshelves standing behind him.
Those shelves held not only knowledge he had transcribed from the Hogwarts library back in his student days, but also books he had brought over from other worlds.
After all, for any world, the greatest treasure was always knowledge.
Perhaps this really was a solid choice.
In the past, he had taken knowledge from Hogwarts; now, it was time for him to “give back” to his alma mater.
With his goal set, the next step was execution.
If Ian remembered correctly, there happened to be a position at Hogwarts that suited him remarkably well—he just wondered if it was still vacant.
As a amusing thought struck him, the corners of Ian’s mouth slowly curled into a smirk.
Seeing Ian’s mischievous smile, Gandalf couldn’t help but shake his head.
Still, having achieved his goal, it was time to voice his own request.
“Ian…
if—and I do mean if—it’s convenient for you, could you bring me along as well?” Hearing Gandalf’s request, Ian instinctively frowned.
Traversing worlds was his greatest secret, and he wasn’t keen on exposing it just yet.
He hadn’t forgotten that his enemies were still lurking in some unknown corner of the world.
On second thought, however, most of the original story’s events revolved around Hogwarts, meaning Voldemort—the primary villain—would undoubtedly target the castle as well.
As long as Ian entered Hogwarts, it was only a matter of time before Voldemort set his sights on him.
Although he no longer feared Voldemort in his current remnant-soul state, having Gandalf’s assistance would undoubtedly make his plans run far more smoothly.
“Fine, I agree!” Ian ultimately accepted Gandalf’s request.
Looking at Gandalf’s aged countenance, however, Ian inexplicably thought of Dumbledore.
He had a strange suspicion that something very interesting would happen when those two met.
Gandalf didn’t notice the strange glint in Ian’s eyes.
Upon hearing Ian’s agreement, his projection began to fade, though his voice remained crystal clear: “A wise decision.
Remember, Ian: the transmission of knowledge is a form of magic in itself.
Perhaps in teaching others, you will find a different kind of joy.” “This, too, is a movement in your grand symphony!” As the final wisps of light sank back into the sword, silence settled over the underground chamber once more.
Ian stood alone before the platform, his gaze turning back toward the bookshelves, his eyes flashing with an unreadable light.
He reached out and gently stroked the spine of an ancient tome nearest to him, the coarse parchment rough yet familiar beneath his fingers, as if he could feel the weight it carried.
“A grand symphony, huh?” he murmured, his voice echoing softly in the vacant underground space.
His eyes drifted upward, seemingly piercing through the ceiling to gaze at the boy standing silently by the window upstairs.
After a long moment, Ian muttered under his breath, “I’m not the only main character of this era.” With a wave of his hand toward the shelves, a parchment-bound volume floated smoothly out from the stacks and flew into his palm.
Ian caught the volume and turned to leave the underground chamber.
On the cover, the word “Dueling” could be faintly made out.
Thud!
As the door swung shut and echoed through the chamber, the white flames on the domed ceiling gradually flickered out, plunging the entire space back into darkness.
After an indeterminate time, a reddish glow began to pulse on the shell of the dragon egg resting on the platform, accompanied by a faint, muffled roar from within.
“Is the little one growing impatient as well?” After a long pause, Gandalf’s soft sigh echoed through the dark, before everything returned once more to total silence.