Hogwarts Raven

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No matter where you are, some things are universal. Since it's homework, how could it be easy to complete?

Ian felt like he was destined to become the most unpopular student at Hogwarts. Even Hermione from the Golden Trio only competed with her peers and classmates. 

But him? He hadn't even started school yet, and he was already diving into subjects that third-year Hogwarts students could only access as electives— classes typically reserved for top students who found their regular coursework manageable.

'A study machine. That was probably what he looked like.'

"Sigh, the capable learn more. Who made me so clever?" Ian carefully tucked away the piece of the dress, extinguished the Lumos spell, and climbed back into bed.

He drifted into a night full of dreams.

The next morning, as soon as the sun rose, Ian got up, tidied himself, and rushed to the bookstore in Hogsmeade Village. Many people might not even know there was a bookstore here.

In fact, most young wizards attending Hogwarts might not even notice it by the time they graduate. Behind Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop in Hogsmeade, there was an inconspicuous second-hand bookstore.

Though this bookstore was so shabby it didn't even have a sign, it received a large number of unsold textbooks and old books from Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley every year, then resold them to students who wandered into the village on weekends. Of course, few young wizards visiting Hogsmeade would think to browse a bookstore.

After all, most people came here to relax. Still, that didn't stop the bookstore from existing. Who knew how the owner made a living?

"Hello, do you have any materials on studying Runes here?"

Ian had been living in Hogsmeade for about a week, and this was his first time visiting the bookstore. As he walked in, he saw an old man lounging in an old-fashioned rocking chair.

The old man had a ruddy complexion, his hair streaked with gray, like pine branches dusted with the first snow of winter— sparse yet silvery. He wore a pair of slightly outdated round glasses perched on his nose.

He exuded a scholarly air.

"You're the young wizard who's been staying in the village recently?"

The bookstore owner seemed to have heard about Ian. It was indeed rare for a young wizard to stay in Hogsmeade before starting school.

"Yes, sir."

Ian maintained his usual politeness.

"For a young wizard your age, studying Runes is a bit too early," The bookstore owner said, remaining reclined in his rocking chair.

"I'm just very interested in it and want to start learning a bit early... Well, I believe I'll definitely become a great student in ancient runic studies in the future." Ian put on a face full of dreams and aspirations, taking advantage of his youth.

"Not bad, you are ambitious."

The bookstore owner gave Ian another look before finally sitting up.

"But ideals and reality are often different. Most young wizards struggle with even the basic classes." Though he grumbled, the bookstore owner still went inside to search for books for Ian.

His movements were slow, and his body swayed slightly. Though he seemed physically weak, his complexion showed no signs of aging.

It was a strange contradiction.

"You said it yourself, that's most people. What about the minority?"

When Ian smiled, his teeth were neat and white.

"Hmm?"

The bookstore owner glanced at Ian again.

"Young, handsome, and a bit arrogant... Maybe you do have some talent. It seems you'll end up in Slytherin," He remarked, making his judgment.

Then he began rummaging through the bookstore.

"Found it, here it is."

The bookstore owner seemed out of breath after just a bit of movement. It was unclear if he had suffered some injury in his youth that affected his physical abilities.

As he spoke, he pulled out three books from a pile that was simply stacked on the floor of the shop. With a slightly trembling hand, he handed them to Ian.

Ian noticed a vivid tattoo on the inside of the bookstore owner's arm— a Golden Snitch. 

"It's really beautiful," Ian said, admiring it.

The bookstore owner stared at him, and Ian quickly tried to cover up his rudeness.

"Yes, it used to be beautiful."

The bookstore owner's response was cryptic, but Ian noticed a dimness in his eyes and decided not to pry further into the story behind the tattoo.

Probably it wasn't some clichéd love story, but rather a deeply moving bromance?

England's affairs were hard to say, really hard to say.

"How much for all of them?"

Ian wasn't in the habit of gossiping about strangers' pasts, so he naturally changed the subject.

"Six golden galleons."

The bookstore owner lay back in his rocking chair.

"Ouch, that's expensive!" Ian couldn't help but gasp.

"That's already the price for used books. If you were to buy new ones in Diagon Alley, the price would double. It's an elective not just because it's hard to learn," The bookstore owner implied.

"..."

Ian finally understood why every era had its share of knowledge monopolists. Indeed, the profit from selling knowledge was beyond imagination.

"Alright, thank you."

Ian didn't suspect the owner of overcharging or scamming him. Even if he did, it wouldn't matter. He couldn't go to Diagon Alley himself, so there was no point in harboring ill will and making things harder for himself.

Pulling out a much thinner money pouch from his pocket, Ian carefully counted out six golden galleons and placed them on the counter the owner pointed to.

"If you decide to give up on studying, I'll buy them back for three golden galleons," the bookstore owner chuckled as if certain Ian would give up.

"I don't think that will happen," Ian replied with a polite smile.

He picked up the three books and left.

In the quiet bookstore, only the elderly owner remained, sinking back into silence.

A long time later, perhaps moved by Ian's earlier words, the bookstore owner sighed softly as he lay in his rocking chair. He raised his slightly withered arm and gently brushed it with his other hand.

The golden Snitch tattoo, under the sunlight, seemed to transport him back to memories of a time when he had sworn unwavering loyalty.

(End of Chapter)