The weather was a little chilly.
Ian glanced back at the slowly closing door, then looked up at the worn-out sign reading Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C. He couldn't help but feel like he'd just discovered the biggest scam den in the entire wizarding world.
"What a sly old fraud," he muttered, casting judgment on Ollivander. At this point, he was starting to think maybe Voldemort's army of followers hadn't been rallied solely through threats and fear. Ollivander might've had a hand in it too—at least partially responsible.
Most people would probably mistake their own tragedy as fate's design.
"The root of the chaos in the magical world—found it!"
Ian was now thoroughly convinced that his discovery could be the basis of a fantastic thesis. Sadly, Hogwarts didn't publish student journals, which meant his brilliance would go unrecognized.
"Maybe I should consider submitting to The Daily Prophet instead. A famous publication like that probably pays pretty well." His thoughts wandered as he scanned the area for Snape.
Thankfully, the notoriously unreliable professor hadn't ditched him. Ian spotted Snape waiting just outside a nearby storefront and quickly trotted over, dragging his trunk behind him.
"Professor, could you teach me how to write a proper wizarding thesis?" he asked brightly. After all, if he could get a Hogwarts professor's name on the paper, the Daily Prophet would be much more likely to publish it—maybe even with a bigger payout.
"Mr. Prince, I have no interest in hearing the childish and foolish thoughts of someone your age," Snape said coldly, giving a sideways glance at the wand sticking out of Ian's pocket. "Right now, what you need to do is pick a pet that will be useful for your studies."
As he spoke, he knocked lightly on the glass window of the shop in front of them. Only then did Ian realize it was a pet shop, filled with cages housing all kinds of animals—cats, toads, owls, lizards, rats. Some even had traces of magical lineage. But none of them stirred anything in him.
To be fair, he did have a bit of a soft spot for owls.
But Hogwarts had plenty of school owls already. Why spend money and effort raising one when you could "borrow" one for free? In terms of cost-efficiency, that seemed like the smarter play.
Ian found himself far more interested in owning something special.
"Professor, can I pick any pet I want?" he asked cautiously.
"Mm." Snape let out a nasal grunt of affirmation.
"In that case… I'll take a phoenix."
Ian blinked innocently.
A lion might've been a little too bold, but surely this wasn't that outrageous.
Snape's eye twitched.
"Are you sure you didn't overdose on calming draught and forget to wake up?" he asked, genuinely stunned. He had never seen anyone this shameless in his entire life.
A phoenix?
I want one too! Who's giving them out?!
"Well, how about a bird with phoenix blood? That shop uses phoenix feathers for wand cores, right?" Ian pressed, clearly implying that phoenixes couldn't be that rare.
Given that he grew up in a Muggle orphanage, it made sense for his understanding of magical creatures to be somewhat skewed. But he really did want a phoenix.
They were just too cool.
"No wizard—aside from the Dumbledore family—has earned a phoenix's favor in this century. I suggest you forget such childish fantasies," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "Of course, perhaps Mr. Prince is so influential that Dumbledore might gift you his."
It was obvious this was meant as sarcasm.
"Why don't you go ask for me, Professor? Dumbledore would definitely give you the honor," Ian shot back without missing a beat.
Sure enough—
That single sentence left Snape momentarily speechless.
"Sharp-tongued little brat," he muttered, glaring.
"If your brain were even slightly different from a troll's, you'd stop dreaming about the impossible and just pick a toad or a rat—both are ideal partners for potion experiments," he added, clearly trying to mask his irritation behind a slow, deliberate tone.
But that kind of advice didn't really align with most people's idea of a pet.
"Sounds more like a test subject than a companion," Ian said with a sigh.
"Is there a difference?" Snape sneered. "Perhaps you really do belong in Gryffindor, like those naive fools who waste their time doting on animals."
And there it was—another dig at the house he hated most.
Ian ignored him.
"Never mind. We've already spent enough today. I don't really want a pet right now. I can't even afford to take care of myself," he said, leaning against the glass and watching the magical creatures inside.
In the end,
nothing really caught his eye.
He had the soul of an adult, after all—his tastes in pets weren't exactly those of a normal child.
"That's your decision," Snape said with no interest in convincing him. With a swish of his robe, he turned and walked away.
"If I can't have a phoenix, what about a snake?" Ian asked, jogging to catch up. Until now, Snape had been carrying his suitcase, but Ian had taken it back.
"First-year students aren't allowed to bring dangerous pets," Snape replied without slowing. Then he glanced sideways at Ian with his trademark look of disdain.
"Changed your mind already? Too late. You've missed your chance."
The faint twitch of Snape's lip hinted at a smirk—finally, a crack in his deadpan expression.
"No, I'm thinking maybe I'll get one in second or third year," Ian said breezily. He didn't even know if he and Harry Potter were in the same year, but if he wanted the right pet, he'd need the Boy Who Lived.
Yes—
Ian wanted a basilisk.
Now that was a proper pet for someone with an adult soul.
Bigger is better!
"Hmph. Looks like Mr. Prince doesn't dislike pets—he just thinks the ones in the shop aren't good enough for him," Snape said, seeing right through him. "Just don't come crying later. Even the smallest creature with magical blood costs far more than you can afford."
He gave Ian a pointed, knowing look.
"Thank you for the warning, Professor."
Ian nodded politely, showing none of the embarrassment Snape had clearly hoped for.
Snape frowned slightly.
Meanwhile, Ian was too busy glancing around at the fascinating shops nearby to care.
"Brace yourself," Snape suddenly said, stopping in his tracks.
Before Ian could ask what he meant, Snape grabbed the back of his neck.
In the next moment—
Ian's world spun wildly.
He knew this sensation well: Apparition.
Last time, he'd felt nothing at all. This time, though, he felt a faint nausea, a slight dizziness—nothing serious, but definitely noticeable.
Maybe the potion Snape gave him earlier was starting to wear off?
While Ian's thoughts drifted—
Whoosh…
His vision suddenly cleared. The whirlwind of colors vanished, replaced by a peaceful village, nestled in the embrace of the Scottish Highlands.
The soft gurgle of a stream in the distance mixed with the occasional hoot of an owl. The air carried the sweet scent of magical fruits and foods.
This was Hogsmeade.
The hidden wizarding village cradled by the Scottish mountains.
"You'll be staying here until school starts," Snape said as he led Ian—who was gawking like a curious kitten—toward a secluded wooden cottage.
Before Ian could ask where they were, Snape had already pulled out a key and tossed it at him—along with the remaining half-bag of Galleons from earlier.
"If I catch you wandering around again, you won't like the consequences," Snape warned, his eyes sharp.
Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and left without hesitation.
His hurried stride made it seem like he had something urgent to deal with—what, did he forget to turn off the flame under a rare potion before leaving?
"Did he just say… 'don't wander around again'?"
Ian caught the odd wording in Snape's warning.
But for now—
Looking at the stack of textbooks packed in his trunk, he had only one thing on his mind: becoming a real wizard. Everything else could wait.
"Magic! Here I come!"
(End of Chapter)