Chapter 47: Stay Away from Conspiracies!

The narrow path twisted and turned.

The setting sun cast dappled light through the trees, painting golden-red patterns on the worn cobblestones. The small road leading to Hogwarts seemed almost wrapped in a veil of warm twilight.

At the end of the path, a towering castle loomed on the horizon, its silhouette blending into the sky.

"You're quite the audacious little schemer, aren't you? Ordering that girl around like a servant—do you even know who she is?"

Snape had been watching from behind the entire time. He had intended to ignore Ian for the rest of the walk, but as the boy jogged up to his side, he couldn't hold back his irritation any longer.

"Servant? That was simply a friend helping another friend out of goodwill," Ian corrected him, deliberately raising his voice towards the end.

"You're digging your own grave," Snape muttered, exasperated.

Unable to stand the sight any longer, he turned and strode toward Aurora, who was trailing a few steps behind, intending to take Ian's suitcase from her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

To his surprise, Aurora swiftly pulled the suitcase behind her, dodging Snape's outstretched hand. She even shot him a wary, almost defiant look.

"…"

Snape was at a loss for words.

His perpetually scowling face twitched.

Then, with an irritated flick of his robes, he spun around and stormed ahead without another word, his pace quickening as he disappeared into the forest.

Ian grinned as Aurora caught up to him. "I'll make it up to you later—house-elf special dinner, my treat."

Aurora gave no response, walking beside him in silence, dragging Ian's suitcase along the uneven path.

Ian's gaze fell on a vine growing by the roadside, its thick branches heavy with plump fruit. After a moment of hesitation, he plucked one and took a cautious bite.

There was something about food that always sparked curiosity in him.

"Sweet! Want to try?" He turned to Aurora, offering the unbitten side of the fruit.

Aurora remained silent.

"It's really sweet," Ian insisted.

She finally let out a soft sigh, her composed expression breaking just slightly. "That's a Sourburst Berry—one of the main ingredients in acidity potions."

Ian's smile froze.

"Oh, so that's why—" He grimaced, the aftertaste finally catching up to him. Disgusted, he tossed the fruit aside. "Even a dog wouldn't eat that."

"But you did," Aurora noted flatly, "and then tried to trick me into eating it too."

"That wasn't trickery—it was a test of our bond, sharing hardships together."

Ian fell into silence, realizing his own words sounded ridiculous.

The awkward moment didn't last long. They continued following Snape through the forest until the narrow path suddenly opened up into a breathtaking view.

A vast lake stretched out before them.

The dark waters rippled gently, yet the evening sun failed to penetrate its depths, concealing whatever lurked beneath the surface.

The Black Lake—one of Hogwarts' most famous landmarks.

Beyond it, the grand castle stood against the mountains, its countless towers and turrets silhouetted against the sky.

"It's beautiful," Ian murmured, eyes wide with admiration.

"It's far more imposing than the illustrations in the books," Aurora agreed, her gaze fixed on the distant castle.

Ian glanced at her. "You mean Hogwarts: A History?"

Aurora shifted her suitcase slightly. "No. The Rise and Fall of Hogwarts."

Ian noted the way her arm trembled slightly as she held the suitcase. "You could have just told me it was heavy, you know." He took it from her, allowing her a moment of relief.

Just then, Snape turned to face them, "Wait here. The students from the carriages will be arriving soon. You'll cross the lake with them," he instructed, his eyes lingering on Aurora for a moment before shifting to Ian with a warning glare.

"You can't just take us inside directly?" Ian frowned. The air had turned chilly—rain seemed likely.

"It's tradition," Snape answered coolly.

Then, without another word, he transformed into a billowing gray mist and shot off toward the castle like a firework.

Ian exhaled sharply, crouching by the lake and swirling his fingers in the cold water. "What a bizarre tradition."

Aurora knelt beside him, her mismatched eyes scanning the lake's surface. "The four founders of Hogwarts crossed this lake when they first built the school. That's where the tradition comes from."

Ian tilted his head, contemplating that for a moment before smirking.

"Maybe Salazar Slytherin got seasick and decided if he had to suffer, everyone else should too."

Aurora turned to look at him.

"…I doubt a wizard of his caliber would have such childish pettiness."

"You'd be surprised," Ian muttered. "Some men stay petty until the day they die."

Just then, he felt a sudden tightness around his submerged fingers. Startled, he yanked his hand out of the water—only to find a tiny squid latched onto one of his fingers.

"Baby kraken," Aurora observed, mildly intrigued.

Ian sighed. "I was hoping for a baby mermaid. Disappointing." He flicked his hand, sending the little squid plopping back into the water before wiping his fingers with a handkerchief.

"There are no mermaids here. Just Scottish lake-dwellers—ugly creatures, whether young or fully grown. You wouldn't want to meet one." Aurora reached into the lake as well, perhaps hoping to catch another squid.

But after waiting a while, nothing took the bait.

After a few seconds of idly stirring the water, she spoke again—this time, her voice quieter, more thoughtful.

"The day we killed that Dark wizard together—Dumbledore approved my admission to Hogwarts."

Ian nearly choked on air.

"We? I thought you killed him."

Aurora turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze.

"Same difference."

She hesitated briefly, then—breaking from her usual brevity—added, "I just acted before you did."

So, she had noticed. Even back then.

"Let's change the subject. Why bring this up now?" Ian asked, glancing toward the trees, wondering why the other students were taking so long.

"Kraft told me once—Dumbledore has a habit of giving people hope at the last moment. It's one of his tactics."

Ian studied her, sensing the turbulence beneath her calm exterior.

"You should be careful. He's better at manipulating people than my grandfather ever was." Her eyes flickered slightly, betraying the emotions she usually kept hidden.

Ian scoffed. "That's a bit of a conspiracy theory, don't you think?"

"Still," he conceded after a pause, "being careful never hurts."

He didn't doubt that Dumbledore had his own agenda—he was a powerful wizard with too many responsibilities. But from Ian's experience so far, the man still seemed… fair.

He had seen firsthand the sheer number of enemies constantly scheming against the old wizard. If he were in Dumbledore's place, Ian wasn't sure he'd have half the patience to deal with them.

Self-restraint.

That was what made Dumbledore truly remarkable.

"Maybe," Aurora murmured.

Then, her gaze sharpened. "They're coming."

Ian blinked. "Who's coming?"

Before she could answer, the sound of approaching footsteps and excited chatter filled the air.

Behind them, the undergrowth rustled as a massive figure emerged from the forest—leading a group of nervous, wide-eyed first-years toward the lakeshore.