"Keh keh keh keh keh~"
The Phoenix tilted its head, watching its master. Its beak remained tightly shut, but a sound was still emitted from its throat, a rather eerie and bizarre sound.
"What Soul Hall Phoenix!"
Ian lifted the Phoenix, which seemed a bit dazed but always the first to snatch food, and shook it vigorously. Unyielding, he still couldn't shake out Voldemort's soul.
"Give me back my magic power!"
The Little Wizard felt like his efforts were in vain, speaking with a tone of discontent.
"Ga?"
Finally.
The Phoenix stopped emitting that nerve-wracking cry, but the sound it made didn't resemble the clear cry a Phoenix should have. Perhaps it had understood Ian's words.
The flames on its body became even more vigorous.
In just a moment, as the purple flames gradually faded, Ian felt a certain power being transmitted to him through the link between him and the Phoenix.
His whole body began to heat up.
It felt as if his very flesh was burning.
"Damn! I'm glowing!"
Ian raised his arm, discovering that his skin not only turned as red as a boiled shrimp, but also had golden patterns faintly flickering beneath.
The heat continued to grow.
Like a gentle caress from the rising sun, it was a warmth emanating from within, not a feverish heat nor a simple rise in body temperature, but a sign of life force and energy boiling inside. Ian could clearly feel every cell in his body rejoicing.
The magic power was also boiling and growing...
"What's going on!"
Ian, utterly astonished, realized that his magic power was not just growing but breaking through an invisible barrier effortlessly.
"Keh keh keh keh keh~"
The Phoenix's response was incomprehensible. The Little Wizard lifted his robes, finding that the golden patterns were nearly covering his entire body.
"This is a kind of Magic Rune!"
Realizing the situation, Ian immediately ran towards the Mirror of Erised—this mirror could not only show the heart's deepest desires but also function as a regular mirror to reflect the whole body.
"Another undocumented Magic Rune!" Ian seemed to hear his own heartbeat, each beat like a war drum resonating in every corner of his body.
He stripped off all his upper clothing, ignoring everything else reflected in the Mirror of Erised, focusing solely on the faint patterns on his skin.
These Magic Runes, drawn with golden lines, shimmered with a mysterious light, symbolizing not just words but power.
They were also a product of the resonance between magic and Ian's deep soul. However, Ian couldn't decipher their meaning, only sensing a rhythm similar to the Death Magic Rune on the Deathly Hallows.
"What did you put into my body?"
Ian was utterly bewildered by this unforeseen change, clutching the black Phoenix that had comfortably perched on his shoulder and questioning loudly.
"Keh keh keh keh keh~"
The black Phoenix seemed to respond, but it made no difference, as even if Ian had studied Phoenix languages, this would be incomprehensible.
"Are you really a Phoenix..."
Ian was at a loss for words.
He quickly glanced at the increasingly frequent shimmering golden patterns in the Mirror of Erised. Just as he planned to draw his Magic Wand to see if he could remove them from his body,
"Don't worry, child."
Albus Dumbledore's voice suddenly echoed—Ian turned abruptly, only to find the voice came not from the main door but from a wall within the room.
"Ka ka ka ka~"
An unusual sound occurred.
First, a brick in the corner of the room vibrated slightly. Then, it began to rotate clockwise at a slow and steady pace. Following that, the surrounding bricks seemed to receive a signal, starting to imitate it in a complex yet orderly rotation.
As if driven by some ancient and powerful magic, each rotation of the bricks was accompanied by a slight friction sound, and completely opened to reveal a secret chamber concealed behind the wall.
The chamber was dimly lit but exceptionally tidy.
Inside were some seemingly ancient magical artifacts and books. In the center of the chamber stood a huge stone table etched with intricate runes and patterns, emitting a faint light. A familiar figure stood up slowly—Albus Dumbledore.
The shrewd and cunning old headmaster.
"Why are you here!?"
Ian gaped in amazement.
He was genuinely bewildered.
Albus Dumbledore, who should have been dealing with the Quirrell incident in the basement, was instead sitting with another elderly figure in the secret chamber.
Moreover, it was apparent they had been there for quite some time, with an array of teapots on the stone table with runes designed to keep the tea warm.
In addition, there were actually small desserts on the stone table, with quite a few missing bites, suggesting the two elderly gentlemen had witnessed the entire battle between Ian and Voldemort from start to finish.