Chapter 36: Oh, So I Didn't Need to Pretend After All

What does it take to create a miracle?

Ian answered that question with a quill and dozens of hours of effort.

Seven full years' worth of Potions textbooks—an overwhelming amount of text. But thanks to the academic discipline he had retained from his early schooling, he managed to transcribe every word flawlessly.

He even had time to go back and check for mistakes.

"Still got it!"

Shaking out his sore arm, Ian set down his feathered quill, which was now so frayed it was splitting at the tip. Looking outside, he saw that the sun hadn't even begun to set.

There was still plenty of time before his next descent into the Ethereal Realm.

[Potions Proficiency (Level 2): 23/200]

Not only had his intense effort allowed him to finish ahead of schedule, but it had also yielded tangible improvements—his understanding of potions theory had deepened significantly.

At the very least, he was now ahead of most first and second-year students. His only shortcoming was a lack of practical experience. If he actually had to brew a potion, there would definitely be a learning curve.

"I hope I can practice potion brewing in the Ethereal Realm, too."

As he looked forward to his next visit to that strange dream realm, Ian also felt a bit uneasy about his two companions who had gone exploring. Could a soul that was already dead die again?

"Crunch. Crunch. Crunch."

Long hours of writing had left Ian starving. He grabbed a few leftover pieces of bread from the previous day and bit into them with the same enthusiasm as someone devouring a biscuit.

The taste was… indescribable.

Britain was notorious for its lackluster cuisine, and the wizarding world wasn't spared from that unfortunate reality. Fortunately, Ian wasn't too picky about food.

He was young, his teeth were strong.

Gnawing on rock-hard bread was just another way to keep them sharp.

"If I count the days correctly, Hogwarts should be starting in four or five days."

A bite of rock-hard bread. A sip of non-contaminated spring water. Sitting outside his little wooden cabin, staring at the distant silhouette of a castle, Ian felt an odd sense of anticipation.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, its golden light grew softer, deeper.

"Lumos!"

His Lumos charm was close to leveling up, so Ian decided to spend some time practicing before bed. He raised his wand, letting its glow fill the room as he pushed his proficiency further.

[Lumos (Level 2): 3/200]

Compared to more complex spells or even his progress in Potions, utility spells like Lumos leveled up at a frustratingly slow pace.

Of course, that was only true when comparing Ian to himself. As his skills improved, he found himself experiencing moments of insight—an intuitive understanding of magic that hadn't been there before.

"Wait, I can do that?"

Following this new realization, he experimented with his wand, manipulating the glowing tip. To his surprise, the light began shifting colors.

Red.

Blue.

Turquoise.

A sickly green…

"Huh. If I can refine my silent casting, I might even be able to use this to fake the Killing Curse and scare people."

It was an amusing thought.

But then he frowned.

"Wait. Why would I need to fake it when I can actually cast the Killing Curse?"

That made the trick a bit redundant.

Shaking his head, Ian focused on something more ambitious—he wanted to create a floating light source that detached from his wand.

Predictably, he failed.

The moment the light left the wand's tip, the magic circuit sustaining it collapsed, causing it to vanish.

"I just don't have enough control yet. Maybe if I imprint the spell's circuit onto a different object—something that can act as a stable medium—then it would work."

Ian froze.

That thought sounded… familiar.

After a moment of careful reflection, realization struck.

"Wait a minute… that's literally how alchemy works!"

"Damn it! I almost reinvented an entire field of magic!"

Ian clutched his head in frustration.

If he had discovered this centuries ago, he could've been a pioneer in magical advancements. He could've had his name on Chocolate Frog cards!

But reality was cruel.

Flipping through his notes, he confirmed his worst suspicion—alchemy had been founded on principles exactly like these. In fact, centuries ago, wizards had already developed enchanted objects that could sustain Lumos indefinitely.

And those very objects were still monopolized by the same ancient wizarding families.

Just like how every bottle of wizarding shampoo on the market came from the Potter family.

"Damn magical monopolies!"

It wasn't the lost discovery that frustrated Ian the most.

It was the fact that he couldn't capitalize on it.

The thought of all those shiny gold Galleons slipping through his fingers simply because he was born a few centuries too late made his stomach twist with regret.

Could there be anything more frustrating for a broke wizard?

Absolutely not.

"If I can learn some lost potions or spells from Professor Mara, I'm patenting them immediately. Then I'll sit back and let the vault at Gringotts fill itself!"

With that comforting thought, Ian returned inside, burying himself in a pile of notes.

Just before sleep took him, one last realization surfaced—

He was still just a regular person at heart.

Not only did he love money,

But he also didn't actually hate monopolies.

He just hated that he wasn't the one running them.

---

When Ian opened his eyes again, the grand, gilded hall was exactly as he had left it.

And the witch was waiting for him.

As always, she sat on that same unchanging bench—poised, elegant, and exuding an air of untouchable authority.

Her gaze was piercing, scrutinizing Ian with an expression he couldn't quite place.

Or rather—she was staring at the massive stack of notebooks in his arms.

"You didn't disappoint me."

There was a trace of admiration in her voice.

Ian grinned. "Guess I really did bring them with me."

This was his first time trying to transport such a large amount of physical objects into the Mirage. Fortunately, it had worked. Every single notebook he had clutched had followed him into this dream realm.

"Professor Mara, look how amazing I am!"

With a smug smile, he dumped the notebooks onto the long table before them. This time, the furniture didn't scurry away. Though, a few teacups did open their eyes, curiously peering at him.

"Yes. Quite impressive."

Mara didn't hold back her praise.

However…

She had misunderstood.

She thought Ian was showing off his ability to bring physical objects across the boundary of life and death, rather than the sheer volume of text he had copied.

So—

"But you are capable of far more impressive feats. You just haven't realized it yet."

Her words were cryptic.

Ian paused before asking, "And what exactly are these more impressive feats?"

"That is for you to discover."

Mara, as always, remained an enigma.

"You know, you could just tell me, and I'd still consider it my own discovery."

Ian blinked at her.

For a moment, Mara was silent.

Then, she sighed.

"I can only glimpse possibilities. I am not all-knowing… What path you take is yours alone. Only you can walk it."

Her soft words left Ian deep in thought.

He glanced at the books on the table.

And slowly—

A bold idea began to take shape in his mind.