Chapter 182: Chapter 96: Severing Fate, The Destiny of a King
The dress fragnt in Ian’s hand was still shimring as usual, but the words recorded on it definitely exuded evil; Ian felt that every word was infused with the mischievousness of a wicked witch.
"Sure enough, you should never offend the old witch..." Ian recalled his previous words and actions but couldn’t figure out where he might have offended Witch Morgan. He now understood why Morgan had altered the recipe; she truly wanted to see him unknowingly brew a cauldron of Amortentia.
What a joke!
He’s only eleven!
Such a young age!
How could he possibly use sothing like that! No, even when he grows older, he wouldn’t need it! Just like that sharp young man said earlier, with his exceptional looks and skills far beyond his age, Ian wanting to fall in love sweetly hardly requires the aid of potions!
"I really want to know how those apprentices of Teacher Morgan must have lived so cautiously around her, always on guard not to fall victim to her petty tricks."
Ian couldn’t help but glance at the distant castle, only daring to complain and grumble in his mind, knowing well that his teacher was always in the habit of spying on others.
The Empress’s Magic Mirror originally belonged to her; she even listened in on Ian and Ariana’s chats. Heaven knows if the old witch is lurking in the castle spying on him right now.
Thinking of this.
Ian’s eyelid twitched.
"Oh, gratitude to my ancestors, gratitude to my teacher Lady Morgan; she truly cares for
so much, yet the evil passerby clearly doesn’t understand the painstaking effort put into the recipe!"
"It’s deserved that when he leaves, no one will bid him farewell, only a bird is willing to play with him..." Once the young man had walked far enough, Ian perford dramatically to the air.
He wanted to make a Christian prayer gesture but suddenly rembered how Christianity seed to have persecuted wizards in the past, so he ended up making random hand gestures across his chest.
The air remained fragrant.
The calls of birds and the chirps of insects were still active.
No one responded to him, but Ian was already cautious, keeping in mind the fate of his senior sister; the petty wicked witch’s ans of causing trouble were indeed too nasty.
Voldemort coming to hand a smoke probably couldn’t learn such things. Ian was certain it was not a misunderstanding on Morgan Witch’s part, as any normal person could definitely differentiate between a Joy Potion and a Pleasure Potion.
The Joy Potion he imagined—Planet of Joy.
However, in reality, the Joy Potion he obtained was—Night Duty Ward.
There’s no saying they have no difference; they simply have nothing in common, and Ian didn’t even dare imagine what would happen if he brewed a cauldron and served it to Aurora to drink. Moreover, when he received the recipe earlier, he even wanted to brew it and publicly sell it; the evaluation that Azkaban was beckoning was truly too understated.
"Oh, empty Amortentia bottles everywhere, victims of Amortentia all over the house... Durmstrang might never witness such an explosive scene!"
Ian was terribly afraid.
If he really were to brew a huge cauldron and then distribute and sell it, the scene would be utterly absurd, perhaps even recorded in Hogwarts’ school history. Yes, the kind of record under black history, as the evil King of Enchantnt takes action, and that night, the entire castle is all tumultuous.
"..."
Ian believed he should thank the unknown young man who passed by earlier; it was he who saved Hogwarts—he must be a true Savior no less than Harry Potter.
"If I’m not mistaken, the one who flew over at the end should be a Phoenix, never imagined they had the ability to co here... did it rely on its brief interval during Nirvana Rebirth?" Ian wasn’t blind nor presbyopic; he had every reason to suspect that the young man was also a mber of the Dumbledore family.
The resemblance in appearance was indeed evident; it might be Albus Dumbledore’s descendant or perhaps Abeforth Dumbledore’s child. Ian’s guess leaned more toward the forr. To say the old headmaster lived over a hundred years without experiencing love, Ian didn’t believe anyone could be so unmoved by worldly emotions.
The so-called aunt was likely Ariana. If calculated according to today’s age, Ariana should be considered an elderly girl.
"Should have taken a picture of that guy, such a pity." Ian pulled out an old cara he had borrowed, even in the early nineties it can be considered an antique.
Its weight was heavy, not to ntion.
Its size was large.
On the top left corner of the cara was sothing maybe used for exposure—a "pot lid," Ian wasn’t too familiar with caras, only knowing that this was a common magically altered product in the Wizarding World.
With a function similar to a Polaroid, once a photo was taken, it would automatically print out, but to make the photo move required dripping so special Magic Potion on it. The formula was unknown, and its selling price was extrely costly, just like the Potter family’s shampoo, which is a monopoly product.
Of course.
Ian surely didn’t need to purchase such a thing, given that taking photos for help was his entire chivalrous spirit; Dumbledore served as headmaster for so many years and obviously wouldn’t lack the money to buy [Polyjuice Potion]. If not considering the headmaster’s authority to suppress students, Ian even wanted Dumbledore to recharge him before he would expose the photo.
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