Hogwarts Raven

It turns out that even a mischievous poltergeist can learn to reason if the person standing in front of it is holding the truth.

"I was wrong; I shouldn't have scared you. I deeply regret it." Peeves, realizing he couldn't escape, immediately surrendered, pleading for mercy.

"Who's the little troublemaker now?" Ian glared at him with his wand in hand.

"It's me, it's me, the wicked Peeves." The poltergeist, now sporting an unintentional afro from Ian's earlier flames, responded with uncharacteristic obedience.

"I've always been mild-mannered; you attacked me first."

Ian grabbed Peeves by the collar and lifted him. Although Ian wasn't particularly tall, he still managed to loom over the poltergeist.

"If I hear you spreading these tales to the professors, I'll hang you in the Great Hall for a day, set you ablaze twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year."

"And if it's a leap year, I'll even grant you a day off. That's how merciful I am!" Ian's righteous threat left Peeves sniffling with fear.

"I understand! I won't tell anyone! I swear I won't say a word!" Peeves, for all his troublemaking, knew when he was outmatched.

"Good. Let's hope we can all be honest and trustworthy." Ian nodded, lowering his wand. His suspicions had now been confirmed.

The boundaries between the living and the dead, between humans and poltergeists, didn't seem to apply to him. This peculiarity was likely linked to his ability to enter the Twilight Zone.

Compared to his personal skillset, this bizarre privilege clearly held deeper mysteries yet to be understood.

"Can you let me go now? I promise I won't scare you again." Peeves was genuinely shaken; there was something unnervingly different about Ian.

"Before you leave, let me warn you: twisting the truth won't help you. Sectumsempra was taught to me by Professor Snape himself, and Dumbledore even called my spellwork delightful!"

With that final threat, Ian released Peeves.

"Wah wah wah~"

Peeves wailed as he floated away, thoroughly humiliated.

He wanted to complain. He wanted justice! But he didn't dare.

His previous confidence in pulling pranks had come from the fact that no one could touch him. But this year… something was different.

'Damn it!'

'What was happening?'

How could a first year wizard be so terrifying?! He'd heard rumors of a wicked student arriving at Hogwarts this year. It had to be this little menace in front of him! Just like that European fellow called Grindelwald!

Peeves's ectoplasmic heart trembled in confusion and fear. A living person shouldn't be able to grab or hex him. He couldn't make sense of it, even as he fled down the eighth floor.

"I hate pranks."

Watching Peeves vanish, Ian felt completely at ease.

As he had said before. He hadn't used any truly dangerous spells. The two spells he had cast were no secret.

If Peeves dared to slander him, Ian would just catch him again tomorrow night and teach him another lesson. Perhaps he could even introduce Peeves to Pandero and let Ariana practice her swordsmanship on him.

"I need a place to hide things… I need a place to hide things… I need a place to hide things…"

Muttering his intent, Ian paced three times before the wall, focusing on the Room of Requirement's entrance.

Of course, he was also considering other possible uses for the room. As he completed the third pass, a smooth wooden door materialized before him.

A copper doorknob shimmered invitingly.

"Click~"

Ian grasped both sides of the handle and pulled firmly. The hidden chamber's door creaked open, and the eager young wizard darted inside.

The sight that greeted him was astonishing.

A cavernous space, far larger than most stadiums, stretched before him. It resembled an ancient, forgotten city hidden beneath a dome, with countless discarded items forming mountains of lost artifacts.

Broken statues, splintered tables and chairs, jars filled with mysterious liquids, stacks of forgotten books and notes, dulled magical trinkets, frayed robes…

Even a few abandoned Muggle cannons rested in a dusty corner.

Faced with such a spectacle, Ian knew he had struck gold.

Objects only appeared in this room if their owners had long abandoned them. That meant everything here was fair game— a thousand years' worth of forgotten treasures.

Junk?

Not at all!

There were treasures hidden among the ruins!

"Why are there so many colorful magazines?!"

Rifling through the stacks of books, Ian discovered old diaries and study notes, but more surprisingly— numerous animated wizarding magazines of a rather questionable nature.

Hmm.

"The older students would probably pay well for these… but I have a reputation to maintain." Ian dropped the magazines back onto the pile. Some money simply wasn't worth making.

Besides, there was no shortage of valuables here. Abandoned artifacts would only rot away in this place.

"They deserve to be appreciated once more. And I am the one to make that happen."

Ian raised his wand.

"Accio everything that can be sold!"

He had been practicing the Summoning Charm for a while now, but the heaps of junk remained stubbornly unmoved.

"As expected, it only works on specific targets…" He sighed, having already anticipated this outcome. Still, it had been worth a try.

"I'll come back later and sort through everything properly." Ian decided to find a secret passage to Hogsmeade first— he knew of a shop that bought second-hand magical goods.

"Now, Accio Gold Galleons!"

Ian cast the spell with a clear image in his mind. To his delight, hundreds of unclaimed Galleons soared out from the piles of junk.

He swiftly caught them, stuffing the coins into his pockets and robe.

That weight.

That glorious weight.

It was the taste of true happiness.

"Now then…"

Recalling sketches from the library, Ian resumed his search, scanning the piles of forgotten artifacts with the precision of a hawk.

Time slipped by unnoticed.

Half an hour later—

"There it is!"

Ian finally spotted his true prize— a tarnished old diadem, resting atop a mound of decayed relics.

Its once-lustrous gems had dulled to the color of ash. Ravenclaw's Diadem, now defiled by the nameplate of Tom Riddle.

"Such a disgrace to a legendary artifact… Only a true monster could have done this." Gritting his teeth, Ian grabbed a nearby tattered box and carefully placed the Horcrux inside.

He had read extensively about Horcruxes. As long as he didn't wear it, there was no immediate danger. Still, it infuriated him to see such a brilliant piece of alchemy defiled in this way.

"If only it weren't corrupted… it would have been the crowning jewel of Ravenclaw's legacy!" Ian clenched his fists.

This needed to be dealt with.

Tomorrow night.

Ian would take Voldemort on a little journey.

To the place he should have gone long ago.

(End of Chapter)

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