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It was the German girl standing calmly beside him.
"In alchemy... they don't really use this sort of thing much, do they..." Ian murmured, his voice shrinking on instinct. He wasn't sure why, only that Filch now lay sprawled across the corridor, thoroughly unconscious.
"I also study Muggle science. It's something my grandfather insisted on from a very young age," Aurora replied, glancing back to make sure the cantankerous caretaker was still breathing before answering Ian in a tone laced with unusual gravity.
She clearly understood how to deliver a lesson without causing lasting harm.
"Magic and science! That's got serious potential!" Ian gave her a genuine thumbs-up, feeling that Filch had actually been lucky this time. Aurora had already shown far more restraint than she had at the start of the term.
"You're definitely stronger than I am now," Aurora said, looking him square in the eye. There was certainty in her voice, likely drawn from what she'd seen of him during the incident in the Forbidden Forest.
"Just a tad," Ian replied, gesturing modestly. He didn't go so far as to claim galaxies danced at his fingertips, but he had, after all, taken proper measure of her magical strength.
From the beginning.
Ian's ability to sense magical levels was far clearer than most who didn't possess a magical framework to analyse them. If his assessment was correct, Aurora's current level hovered around a strong Level Seven.
Upon reaching adulthood, she'd undoubtedly attain the status of a Head of House or Department-level witch at Level Eight. Whether she ascended beyond that would depend not only on her inherited magical lineage but also on sheer luck and timing.
After all, even Dumbledore and Grindelwald hadn't reached Level Nine the moment they came of age; it required decades of accumulation and a second magical awakening to reach the fabled human threshold.
Ian's own circumstances… well, those could hardly be replicated.
"I can't see any future fragments of you anymore," Aurora remarked, her heterochromatic eyes narrowing as she studied him, her method of gauging just how far apart they now stood.
"You've seen glimpses of my future before?" Ian's eyes widened in surprise. This was news to him. But the German witch didn't offer a straightforward reply.
"I believe those glimpses are now part of the past," Aurora said cryptically, her gaze lingering on him. Her mismatched pupils flickered faintly as if reflecting visions that ought not be spoken aloud.
"You're opening your cheat codes in front of me??"
Ian quickly reached out and covered Aurora's eyes with his hand.
Just then—
A lively group of young witches and wizards strolled past, chatting animatedly. They shot curious looks toward Ian and Aurora but didn't linger long. Their gossip quickly shifted to a much more shocking subject.
"Snape actually washed his hair! I saw it! It wasn't greasy at all today!"
"I know, right? That shampoo smelled amazing!"
"Do you reckon the Potter family finally released a new batch after all these years?"
"I have to ask Professor Snape what he's using once the holidays are over!"
...
A few Slytherins— clearly second or third years— scurried off in a hurry. Ian didn't even have time to warn the last one before they vanished around the bend.
Well… he could have, but when it came to Slytherin students, they tended to bolt the moment they caught sight of him.
"May Merlin bless your Housemates," Ian muttered under his breath, sounding sincerely resigned.
"That shampoo, was that your doing?" Aurora asked, her mind clearly putting the pieces together.
"Of course. Fancy a bottle? I've got hundreds." Ian pulls out several small flasks. "I was planning to tweak the scent a bit, dilute the mixture, and then sneak it into some leftover Potter-brand shampoo bottles to flog in Knockturn Alley."
He handed Aurora seven or eight of the undiluted versions with a wink.
It was only after brewing it himself that Ian finally understood how the Potter family's vault could remain bottomless for generations.
Put it this way...
The nature of monopolies was always the same— on the surface, it looked like a high-end potion-infused shampoo, but the profit margin was definitely far greater than any enchanted product hawked by flashy shopfronts in Diagon Alley or knockoffs pushed by charm vloggers whispering "three-two-one" before casting sales spells. If the wizarding world had a population even half the size of the Muggle one, the Potter family's vault at Gringotts would probably need an expansion charm of its own just to hold the yearly profits.
"I gave Snape a Christmas gift too," Aurora said as she tucked the shampoo into her enchanted robe pocket, which was clearly under a mild Extension Charm.
"I thought you didn't get along with him?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.
He clearly remembered how furious Aurora had been over Snape's recent behaviour.
"Well, he is our Head of House," Aurora replied matter-of-factly. "And lately, he's been going out of his way to target me. So I figured I ought to mend the relationship a bit— I gave him a pair of anti-exposure underpants. Enchanted so they'll never ride up or show anything, no matter what."
Ian blinked. There were so many questions.
"He's a bloke, Aurora!"
It honestly sounded less like a gift and more like a long-range psychological strike.
"I gave it careful thought," Aurora insisted, her tone now oddly serious. "Everyone says Snape is sharp-tongued, but I figured out why. He's got lingering trauma from being bullied at school as a boy."
She lowered her voice a little.
"It had something to do with a spell— Levicorpus, I believe. Humiliating. It's said someone used it on him in public, often. So I thought… well, maybe this could help him heal from that. Even if just a little."
Ian stared at her for a long beat, finally realising she wasn't joking.
"You really do understand the essence of 'healing magic,' don't you?" He said at last. As her friend, what else could he do? He gave her a silent thumbs-up and privately began praying for her safety during the remainder of her Hogwarts years.
Only Aurora would dare such a thing. If any other student tried that, Snape would probably gift them a custom-written essay titled "You Too Will Need Therapy in Your Thirties."
Ian wouldn't dare even think of pulling such a stunt.
"Where are we going?" Aurora asked, finally noticing they had reached the fourth floor of the castle.
"Obviously— to enjoy Christmas properly," Ian replied.
The holiday atmosphere at Hogwarts was always cheerful and comforting.
At least, for most students, it was. Ian, however, wasn't one to sit still. He opened a hidden panel behind an old mirror on the fourth floor and beckoned Aurora into the narrow tunnel that led all the way to Hogsmeade Village.
Holidays called for indulgence and nothing said indulgence like the limited-run drinks and magical confections that shops in Hogsmeade rolled out during the festive season.
The tunnel was cool and damp, its air thick with the scent of stone and long-forgotten cobwebs. Ian flicked his wand and cast a warming charm, the temperature immediately becoming pleasant.
"Composite magic?" Aurora asked, eyeing his wand with curiosity as if analysing the layered spellwork. She lifted her own wand and muttered, "Lumos," but instead of just light, several sparks of flame leapt out from the tip.
The orange-red fire darted to the low ceiling, where it burst like tiny fireworks, fortunately not of the cursed Fiendfyre variety.
"It's not an arson spell; it's a greenhouse charm," Ian said, dodging a falling spark. He quickly corrected her assumption about his warming technique.
"I haven't learned that charm yet," Aurora replied without much interest in the correction. Her modified spell, once adjusted, now sent out a stream of controlled sparks that not only lit up the tunnel but raised the temperature evenly throughout.
In fact, it worked so well that she pulled out two slices of bread and toasted them mid-air, releasing a warm, yeasty aroma that quickly filled the stone corridor.
"Did you nick that from the Great Hall?" Ian asked.
Aurora intercepted a slice and took a bite.
(To Be Continued…)