What does it mean to solve the mystery of fate?
Voldemort: Death is just the beginning!
If Voldemort ever discovered how to break the cycle and escape the prophecy that tied him to death, the original prediction would be shattered.
Should that happen, Voldemort's magical power would likely increase even further, potentially reaching 6 points.
Ivan had previously asked Dumbledore how one could raise their magical power to that level, and Dumbledore's answer had been clear: "Solve your own destiny."
Ivan speculated that by the end of the original story, Dumbledore, who had willingly embarked on what he called "another great adventure," had transcended life and death, entering this higher realm.
"Good fortune and misfortune are intertwined. Voldemort's death is a fate, but it's also a test."
Not just Voldemort—Grindelwald and Credence had their own tests as well.
Ivan didn't know exactly what Grindelwald's was, but Credence's seemed clearer: breaking free from the curse of the Obscurus, transforming completely in both mind and body.
"Good night, Professor."
"Good night, little Ivan."
After leaving the headmaster's office, Ivan returned to his dormitory.
Neville had already fallen asleep.
"Meow~~!!"
However, Yuumi, noticing her master's return, jumped off the bed, landing lightly before leaping onto Ivan's trouser leg.
"Shh, speak softly. Don't wake Neville," Ivan whispered as he sat down with Yumi in his arms. He opened his system while gently petting the cat.
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[Main Task: One]
Description: You have learned the secret to breaking through to a legendary level, and now the full task is unlocked.
Task Requirements: Refine a Philosopher's Stone by yourself.
Task Reward: 1 experience point (can be applied beyond legendary level).
===
'Here it comes!'
Ivan knew that the system would eventually present him with a way to reach the next level.
'But Philosopher's Stone?'
But this task was far beyond Ivan's current capabilities.
For a first-year wizard, refining a Philosopher's Stone was simply unimaginable.
The Philosopher's Stone is a legendary artifact in the wizarding world, representing the pinnacle of alchemy and the power of equivalent exchange.
The only known wizard to have successfully created a Philosopher's Stone was Nicolas Flamel.
"With my current knowledge, it's impossible to complete this task." Ivan thought to himself.
"If I want to learn the formula for the Philosopher's Stone and the skills required to refine it, I can only seek out Nicolas Flamel."
Fortunately, this task had no time limit.
As long as Ivan could complete it, even if it took a few years or more than a decade, he would still earn the experience point.
"Yeah! It seems I'll need to strengthen my study of alchemy!" Ivan concluded.
The emergence of the main task had opened up a new direction for Ivan. In addition to studying spells, he now had a new academic pursuit.
In the following days, Ivan found many books on alchemy in the Hogwarts library.
Hermione showed some talent in this area, but she had too much on her plate at the moment. Ivan suggested that she not spend too much time on alchemy right now.
The little witch accepted Ivan's advice and poured all her energy into learning spells instead.
As for Neville, he was still often lost in thought.
The boy followed Ivan and Hermione around daily and would occasionally play with Harry and Ron when they stopped by.
One day, Ivan and Hermione entered the Great Hall and noticed that the other young wizards seemed particularly excited.
"Eh? Why do they all seem to be in a sugar rush?"
After asking around, they learned that they had Flying Class today.
Almost a month after the start of term, Hogwarts was finally holding its first flying lesson.
As everyone knows, entertainment activities for kids in the wizarding world were quite limited.
They entered Hogwarts at the age of 11, and before that, they had almost always stayed at home.
Due to the sparse population, wizard families are far apart, and many young wizards are quite isolated before starting school.
Ivan wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch.
Of course, he didn't dislike Quidditch. It just didn't appeal to him, as it didn't help improve his magical skills.
"What bad luck," Harry said, sitting across from Ivan with a frustrated expression.
"I've got flying lessons with Slytherin. I can't imagine how much Malfoy would laugh at me if I make a fool of myself."
"It's not certain that you'll make a fool of yourself," Ron chimed in, pouting. "Malfoy's always bragging about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet he's just making it up."
As the flying class approached, some of the young wizards who had broomsticks at home and had played simple Quidditch games were boasting about their flying skills.
Among them, Malfoy was the loudest.
Not only was Harry anxious, but Ivan and Hermione also frequently became the targets of Malfoy's bragging.
Both Ivan and Hermione came from Muggle families and had never touched a flying broomstick in their lives. Malfoy felt this made him superior, and he was determined to show off in front of them.
In the Great Hall, Malfoy loudly bragged about his flying prowess, telling numerous self-aggrandizing stories, each one culminating in him narrowly avoiding a Muggle helicopter!
"Hogwarts' school rules make no sense at all," Malfoy complained. "Why aren't first-year students allowed to join the school Quidditch team?"
It was as if he believed the school was missing out on a Quidditch genius like him who was born to fly.
And this situation was not an isolated case.
For example, our resident Explosive Saint, Seamus Finnigan, from the way he spoke, seemed to have spent most of his childhood flying around the countryside on a broomstick.
Even Ronald, if anyone was willing to listen, would talk about the time he almost crashed into a hang glider while riding his brother Charlie's old broom.
For a while, almost everyone from a wizarding family was chattering non-stop about Quidditch.
Children's competitive spirit, Ivan thought with a smile.
It was just a bunch of kids showing off. Even if someone's flying skills weren't great, being laughed at was just part of growing up.
No one is perfect. Ivan already considered himself quite skilled, and it was normal to have a few areas where he wasn't as strong.
However, the way Malfoy dragged Harry into his bragging rubbed Ivan the wrong way.
After all, Ivan knew full well how good Harry's flying skills actually were.
"Hey, I'll leave the flying lesson to you, Harry," Ivan said with a confident grin. "When the time comes, show Malfoy what you're made of."
"What?" Harry was taken aback.
Although Ivan's encouragement made him feel better, he really wasn't familiar with flying on a broom.
"Ivan, can I... can I also do it?" Neville asked hesitantly.
Neville was very worried that he would fall off the flying broom. He had never ridden a flying broom in his life.
His grandmother had never let him near one.
Ivan felt that his grandmother was right. Even with his two feet firmly on the ground, Neville could always manage to create endless accidents.
What would happen if he flew into the sky?
"Don't worry," Ivan comforted him. "Even if you do fall, don't forget—you still have me. I'll catch you."
"Thank you," Neville said, feeling slightly reassured.
Yes, with Ivan around, even if something went wrong during the flying lesson, he could be sure of his safety.
The surrounding students, upon hearing Ivan say this, cast grateful glances at him, their initial fear of flying fading significantly.
It had to be admitted that after a month of getting to know him, Ivan's status among the first-year wizards had risen considerably.
Gryffindor saw Ivan as their Lion King and leader.
Ravenclaw admired Ivan's wisdom—almost everyone had sought his help in magic or other school matters at some point.
Hufflepuff appreciated Ivan's approachability and often shared food from the kitchens with him.
Ivan also built close relationships with Hermione, Neville, Harry, and others, further strengthening the bond between the Gryffindor lions and the Hufflepuff badgers.
As for Slytherin, no one knew who first discovered Ivan's surname.
Ambrosius, a descendant of Merlin, from the Eternal Family!
Although Ivan had never publicly admitted it, and it was still just speculation, the mere possibility of such an illustrious background caused an uproar in Slytherin.
There was no doubt that even the oldest pure-blood families paled in comparison to the name Ambrosius.
The little snakes dared not act recklessly in front of Ivan.
Besides Ivan's undeniable abilities, Merlin's bloodline played a significant role in their perception.
In their eyes, perhaps Ivan was a pure-blood wizard who had been lost in the Muggle world.
He was more noble than all of them, destined for greatness at the very pinnacle of pure-blood society.
Gryffindor?
So what?
Couldn't he just be an undercover agent?
A pearl hidden among common stones?!
Understanding the heart of a Sphinx wasn't something ordinary people could do.
In short, Ivan was special. He wasn't operating on the same level as everyone else; he was a transcendent being with a cheat!
"Quidditch rules, flying essentials…"
Beside Ivan, Hermione was nervously reciting from Quidditch Through the Ages.
The little witch was just as anxious as Neville.
"Don't worry, it's just flying."
Ivan patted Hermione's head reassuringly. However, the little witch wasn't afraid of falling. Her real fear was that she might not be able to fly at all.
It wasn't Hermione's fault—she had simply become too fascinated with Quidditch.
Besides the first-year witches, Hermione's dorm room also housed upper-year students who had plenty to say about Quidditch.
Over time, Hermione had developed an interest in the sport.
Miss Know-It-All, who had always been strong in academics, didn't worry about falling off a broom. Instead, she dreamed of becoming a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, just like her senior students.
"..."
Ivan knew Hermione's situation all too well. This girl's mental attributes were almost entirely focused on academics.
When it came to reflexes and athletic ability, well… it was generous to say she was "barely passing."
Hermione playing Quidditch?
Ivan was more concerned that the broom might accidentally fly her straight into one of the goals.
"Just have fun."
Ivan chose not to say anything discouraging. In his mind, he was already preparing to comfort the little witch after she inevitably bumped into something.
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, the cry of an owl echoed across the hall.
Everyone looked up and saw that the package had arrived.
Neville received a package from his grandmother. He excitedly opened it and found a glass ball the size of a yo-yo inside, swirling faintly with white mist.
"Is that a Remembrall?" Hermione immediately recognized it and explained to everyone, "It tells you if you've forgotten something."
"As long as you hold it tightly, if it turns red..."
"Ah!.."
Before Hermione could finish her explanation, the Remembrall in Neville's hand suddenly glowed bright red.
"...it means you've forgotten something," she concluded.
"But I don't remember what I've forgotten at all," Neville said, trying hard to recall what it could be.
At that moment, Draco Malfoy strolled past the Gryffindor table and snatched the Remembrall from Neville's hand.
"Hey, everyone, look! Neville got himself a Remembrall!" Malfoy sneered.
"T.. That's mine! Give it back, Malfoy!"
Neville was startled and quickly chased after him, trying desperately to retrieve the Remembrall.
Seeing this, Harry and Ron also stood up to help Neville.
In no time, the hall erupted into chaos, with shouts and scrambling as students darted about.
"Ah, childhood..."
Ivan watched the commotion but didn't intervene. Malfoy was being mischievous as usual, and this wasn't the first time he'd picked on Neville.
As long as it didn't get out of hand, Ivan didn't see the need to step in.
"Alright, Draco."
Swoosh!
Seeing that Malfoy and Ronald were on the verge of starting a fight, Ivan calmly waved his hand, summoning the Remembrall directly into his palm. "Weasly, too," he added. "No fighting in the hall."
After that, Ivan handed the Remembrall back to Neville.
Upon seeing Ivan intervene, Malfoy reluctantly backed off, returning to stand between Goyle and Crabbe, not daring to escalate the situation.
This was the authority Ivan had established in front of Slytherin.
If Ivan wasn't present during a dispute, the students could argue or even fight. But once Ivan stepped in, both the Gryffindors and Slytherins had to calm down and behave themselves.
"Evil Malfoy," Ronald muttered under his breath.
"Poor Weasley," Malfoy hissed back.
The two continued their muttered insults, but Ivan, used to such bickering, simply ignored them.
It was nothing more than a verbal spat. As long as no punches were thrown, Ivan didn't mind letting them vent their frustrations.
"That's fine."
After a month, Ivan had successfully established a sense of control over the first-year students.
Across all four Houses, aside from Hermione and Neville, Ivan showed no particular favoritism and generally maintained a fair and equal attitude towards everyone.
The professors were more than happy to see this happen.
Professor McGonagall had also praised Ivan for this, noting that ever since he had come to Hogwarts, the relationships between the four Houses had become much more harmonious.
At 3:30 in the afternoon, Ivan and the other Gryffindor students gathered in the field near the entrance.
The Slytherin students were already there, and next to them were more than twenty flying brooms, neatly laid out on the ground.
The flying instructor, Madam Hooch, stood before them. She had short gray hair and sharp yellow eyes, like those of an eagle.
"Alright, what are you waiting for?" Madam Hooch said briskly. "Everyone stand next to a broom, quickly, quickly, let's get going."
Under her direction, the young wizards hurriedly picked a broom each.
"Extend your right hand over the broom handle," Madam Hooch commanded, pacing in front of the group. "Then say, 'Up!'"
The brooms were all similar—old and worn.
Ivan followed Madam Hooch's instructions, stretched out his hand over his broom, and said, "Up!"
Swoop!
At once, his broom leaped into his hand as if it were alive.
This drew the attention of several students.
But after realizing it was Ivan, everyone quickly lost interest.
Ivan?
Well, of course. That figures.
This is what the young wizards from both Gryffindor and Slytherin thought at the time. They were already accustomed to Ivan's outstanding performance.
Ivan grasped the flying broom in his hand. He hadn't used magic or cast any spells; he had simply shouted, "Up!"
"Hmm.. Telepathy transmission, huh?" Ivan thought.
Many magical items in the wizarding world had a certain degree of self-awareness. This was due to the fact that when wizards crafted magical items, their thoughts and intentions were imbued into the object via magic.
Flying brooms, memory balls, and even magical portraits—Ivan was no longer surprised by their reactions.
However, he was pleased that his flying talent was immediately acknowledged by the broom.
A few minutes later, Harry's broom followed suit, jumping into his hand just like Ivan's.
But there were only a few brooms that responded so quickly. Hermione's broom simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's broom didn't budge at all.
"Ivan, is there some sort of trick to this?" Hermione asked, a little anxious as she watched more and more of the students successfully summon their brooms.
"Hermione, speak softly—you've scared it," Ivan said with a gentle smile.
"And Neville, think of something that makes you really angry, and then yell at your broom," he added with a wink.
These brooms were like living creatures, each with its own quirks.
Hermione had been too firm from the start, and her repeated "Up!" had already startled her broom.
Neville's side was even simpler. His broom saw the cowardice of its owner and ignored him.
"Ivan~~ Humph!"
Hermione pouted in dissatisfaction when Ivan said she was too fierce, but she still relaxed and called her broom in a gentle tone.
Sure enough, just as Ivan said, although the broom was not fast, it eventually flew into the hands of the little witch.
"Ah! It really did!"
Seeing this scene, Hermione was no longer suspicious.
But Neville's face was changing colors. He looked like he would poop his pants at any moment! The poor kid was trying hard.
He brewed his emotions, recalling Snape's sarcasm, that series of poisonous tongue, which was very lifelike.
"Up!"
But when Neville really got the broom, even the knowledgeable Mrs. Hooch was stunned.
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15 Advance Chapters—P@treon.com/HornyFBI