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The scarlet writing shimmered with a sinister sheen under the flickering torchlight.
"I… have returned from death?"
Ian's gaze narrowed slightly.
"Who hasn't? I just came back myself," was Ian's instinctive internal response. But jokes aside, the jagged scrawl on the wall left him deeply surprised.
Who would scrawl something like that on a Hogwarts wall just to scare people?
The answer was obvious.
There were still Horcruxes of Voldemort scattered about. Aside from good ol' elder brother Tom, there really wasn't anyone else who'd do something like this. With a bit of thought, Ian could more or less figure out the situation.
What surprised Ian most was that instead of the usual ominous warning like "The Chamber has been opened, enemies of the heir beware," it was this dramatic line that sounded more like a red carpet award speech.
"I… have returned from death?" Ian read the words aloud, then turned to the blond-haired boy beside him. "Didn't expect you to be such an edgy fellow."
Of course, he didn't really believe the message was written by Lirim, but that didn't stop him from teasing this mysterious boy who always gave him a sense of strange familiarity and distance.
Lirim visibly paused at Ian's comment.
"I'm not some half-dead remnant soul, thank you very much. I'd never write something that pathetic and unaware of its own misfortune," He replied with a helpless smile and a shake of his head.
That only made Ian more intrigued.
"You seem to know things you really shouldn't know yet," Ian raised an eyebrow, surprise creeping into his tone as he gave the blond-haired boy another scrutinizing glance.
Normal people wouldn't make that kind of deduction.
Most would assume it was just a prank. Even if they didn't know about the Hogwarts prankster twins, no one would jump straight to "resurrected soul fragment" territory.
"Of course I know." Faced with Ian's gaze, the blond-haired boy only chuckled softly.
"Don't underestimate the Ollivander Family. The Ollivander bloodline is noble, descendants of the great wizard Merlin himself, or at least the closest surviving lineage. We're wiser than most, mysterious beyond measure, our magic is boundless, our insight prophetic, our bravery unmatched, and our legend eternal."
His tone was filled with pride, and a generous helping of shameless boasting. Who knows how he came up with so many adjectives to describe a single wizard in such a short time?
"I'm sure your ancestors are thrilled to have a descendant like you," Ian gave a rare thumbs-up, genuinely impressed by a shamelessness that was even thicker than his own.
"They'd better be. Of course they're proud," Lirim said happily, accepting Ian's praise with no hint of modesty. His golden eyes shifted back toward the writing on the wall.
"You know, this kind of behavior has always fascinated ancient wizards. But it's a shame… through all the ages, not a single wizard has dared attempt it. Now, finally, there's one unlucky fool who's done what no one else dared. I'd bet, no matter the outcome, this person will leave a bold, dramatic mark on history." The blond-haired boy gently ran his fingers across the letters, his tone light, but with a hint of strange anticipation.
"Isn't that a kind of legend in itself?" He murmured softly, but Ian heard him clearly.
Ian raised his eyebrows.
"What do you mean?" That word again, legend, one Ian had heard far too often lately. He gave the mysterious blond-haired boy another long look.
Lirim didn't bother playing coy.
"What I mean is, resurrection from death isn't something mortals can achieve on their own. It's something that requires a… more advanced power to intervene."
The blond-haired boy's gaze grew deep and distant. His soft voice carried a note of reverence, as if he were admiring the very being they were discussing.
"What do you think that power might be?" Ian clearly wanted to probe further, but Lirim saw through his intentions instantly.
He didn't give a direct answer. Instead, he spoke ambiguously: "You know, in dark magic, the reason Horcrux rituals have been universally reviled through the ages… is because creating a Horcrux means paying the price of deceiving the God of Death."
"And Death itself," he said with a faint smirk, "doesn't like being deceived. Rumor has it that it's been fooled far too many times by… certain beings."
The things this blond-haired boy was talking about clearly went far beyond what someone his age should know. Ian was beginning to wonder if the Ollivander family was actually some long-hidden dark wizard lineage.
"You know about Horcruxes?"
You couldn't blame Ian for being so shocked. Knowledge about Horcruxes, this kind of high-level dark magic, was scarcely known even among powerful wizarding circles.
Even some pure-blood families might know little to nothing about it.
"Don't you know too?" Lirim shot back with a direct counter-question.
"..."
Ian rarely found himself at a loss for words when talking to someone his own age, especially someone a year younger. He felt it was time to uphold the dignity of a Hogwarts upperclassman.
"I know because I'm well-read and widely educated. This isn't the kind of knowledge a young wizard like you should be exposed to," Ian said seriously, giving Lirim a very stern look.
"This kind of knowledge can corrupt the soul of those who lack strong will."
He wasn't just trying to scare him; dark magic truly could affect those who came into contact with it.
Of course…
It wasn't on the same level as Cthulhu-style corruption.
"My will is rock-solid. I believe I'll influence dark magic more than dark magic can influence me." Lirim clearly wasn't concerned about Ian's warnings.
"Sure, sure. Go ahead and be the fourth Dark Lord," Ian replied, hearing Lirim's dismissive tone. He was starting to think he'd uncovered a hidden contender within Hogwarts.
"And who's the third? You?" Lirim seemed genuinely curious.
"The third Dark Lord is, of course, the third Dark Lord. When he shows up, you'll know who he is," Ian replied, unwilling to tarnish his beloved uncle's reputation prematurely.
He cast another glance at the words on the wall and shifted the topic.
"So… do you think we should go wake the professors over this?" His words were clearly suggestive, and Lirim picked up on the implication immediately.
He shook his head at once.
"If you don't want to be investigated, suspected, or surrounded by rumors, the best thing to do is pretend you never saw it. I'm sure the professors will discover the writing themselves tomorrow. Whether they chalk it up to a prank or something else, it has nothing to do with us students," Lirim said, meeting Ian's gaze.
(To Be Continued…)