Chapter 34: Bloodline Talent! The Gift Maxed Out!

He came.

He left.

With a wave of his sleeve, he was gone.

All that remained was Ian, who was left frustrated at not being able to learn any new spells, a bag of gold coins that had somehow ended up in his possession, and a perfectly cleaned-up living room.

"Resist any curiosity you might have about Dark Magic. If I find out you're snooping around the village, asking about things you shouldn't, you're finished! The moment I catch you trying to learn Dark Magic from someone, you're done for!"

These were Snape's parting words—an outright threat. Perhaps he was wary of the Purist wizards currently lurking in the village. Or maybe he was genuinely concerned that Ian might get himself thrown into Azkaban.

"I promise I won't ask around!"

Ian's nervous response didn't make it clear whether Snape was satisfied, but one thing was certain: Snape had severely underestimated how long his warning would actually keep Ian in check.

Because the moment Snape was gone, Ian bolted to the bathroom.

With swift, practiced movements, he lifted the lid off the toilet's water tank.

There it was.

Wrapped securely in oiled cloth, Advanced Secrets of Dark Magic lay undisturbed at the side of the tank. Ever since the previous night's commotion, Ian had taken precautions to hide it.

After all, causing a ruckus that resulted in a bunch of corpses crawling out of nowhere was bound to draw attention.

He hadn't expected to run into Snape, of all people. But Ian was always wary that other wizards might notice something unusual about the old cabin and come investigating.

After all—

Every time he roamed the village in search of food, he'd hear Rosmerta, the barmaid, gossiping about all kinds of things. Apparently, people in the village even managed to discover who had been having late-night duels or, more scandalously, multiple rendezvous with lovers.

If people could notice that, then Ian had every reason to worry that someone might have picked up on his late-night necromantic mishap.

And Snape wasn't wrong—he had been genuinely on edge.

That part wasn't a lie. He had spent the entire night terrified that someone would come knocking at his door.

So, naturally, he had to hide the book.

At first, Ian had considered breaking open the toilet itself, stuffing Advanced Secrets of Dark Magic into the plumbing, and then using a Reparo to seal it back up—making it impossible for anyone to find.

But he had ultimately decided against it.

Not just because he was worried the book might get flushed away.

No, the real problem was that it could end up soaked in unspeakable substances.

That would be a true desecration of the knowledge inside.

Ian wasn't too concerned about the knowledge itself being defiled. The real issue was that he might end up touching it while studying.

The last thing he wanted was to show up at Hogwarts and be remembered as "That One Student Who Smelled Like a Public Loo."

A nickname like "The Pungent Wizard" was downright terrifying.

So, he had settled for the next best option.

Hiding Advanced Secrets of Dark Magic in the toilet's water tank was still an effective measure—it was the kind of place no one would think to check.

And it worked. Snape hadn't even considered the possibility that Ian might have such a comprehensive Dark Magic compendium tucked away right under his nose.

With this book in hand, why would Ian need to ask around about Dark Magic anymore?

"My precious~"

Ian briefly checked the waterproof seal before carefully returning the book to its hiding spot.

He had something more pressing to take care of right now.

[You have successfully read a Potions textbook. Potion Mastery +1.]

[You have successfully read a Potions textbook. Potion Mastery +1.]

[You have successfully read a Potions textbook. Potion Mastery +1.]

That's right.

Copying down borrowed textbooks.

That was the real priority.

Compared to magic that he could study at any time, fully transcribing all seven years' worth of Potions textbooks was something Ian needed to finish immediately.

Madam Mara was a good teacher, but she wasn't necessarily a good witch.

And who knew what she would do if he failed to complete his task? Would she still teach him more magic? Or would she decide to let him personally experience the effects of Dark Magic instead?

Ian hadn't interacted with the mysterious spirit within the Ethereal Realm enough to judge her true nature.

But he wasn't about to take any chances.

Better to overwork his right hand than risk finding out.

It's not like he had much use for it at this age anyway.

Might as well put it to work.

"Scritch, scritch, scritch—scritch, scritch, scritch—"

The quiet cabin was filled with the rhythmic scratching of a quill against parchment.

[You have successfully read a Potions textbook. Potion Mastery +1.]

[You have successfully read a Potions textbook. Potion Mastery +1.]

[You have successfully read a Potions textbook. Potion Mastery +1.]

The steady increase in skill proficiency was all the motivation Ian needed.

Sure, he could have just bought a self-writing quill from the village—especially now that Snape had, once again, fed him enough money to make him financially comfortable.

But ever since he realized that copying these books manually helped boost his Potion Mastery, he had abandoned the idea of using magic to make things easier.

For Ian, grinding knowledge was practically a hobby.

Letting information flow through his mind as he wrote it down, leaving behind traces of understanding—what could be more satisfying?

"They had the Half-Blood Prince… Who's to say Hogwarts won't see the rise of the Orphan Prince?"

Ian was fairly confident in his Potions talent.

After all, most young wizards found Potions theory to be an absolute nightmare. Half the time, trying to stuff it into their brains only resulted in other, more important knowledge falling out.

But for Ian?

Even passively reading while copying notes boosted his skills.

His talent in Potions was second only to his frankly ridiculous talent in Dark Magic.

White Magic, on the other hand…

Yeah, that one still needed work.

Unlike his effortless grasp of Dark Magic and Potions, he had to practice White Magic spells multiple times before he could actually learn them. And even after mastering a spell, it took significantly longer to level up compared to his other abilities.

"Maybe if I could get Dumbledore to mentor me, I could make up for my lack of White Magic talent?"

Ian was definitely looking forward to his studies at Hogwarts.

What's that?

Dumbledore doesn't personally teach classes?

Please.

Like that's going to stop him.

The great Headmaster wouldn't possibly refuse a student's burning desire for knowledge, would he?

Thick skin.

That's the real key to success.

[You have successfully read a Potions textbook. Potion Mastery +1.]

Even when Ian's thoughts wandered, his skill still steadily improved.

This…

This might just be a latent talent inherited from the Prince bloodline.

The quill glided across the parchment. Ink settled into place.

Outside, the sun shone brightly.

Inside, the only sounds were the steady rustling of pages and the rhythmic scratching of pen on paper, blending seamlessly with the faint scent of ink and aged parchment.

Ian lost himself in his work.

Focused.

Driven.

…