Note: Please see this image first before reading the rest of the note.[☼img☼]
First, let's be clear: this is a fictional world. Unless you have magic and I'm a muggle, we're dealing with fantasy here. As shown in the image above, JK (the creator of the HP world) established such a wizarding schooling system for Asia, leaving room for speculation. Indian readers, I get it—it's frustrating. But did you see British fans complain when we joke and make fun of the British wizarding world? Or French fans when Grindelwald declares his disdain for France in my other book?
Sorry, now back to the chapter♥
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"The world is so vast."
The Five Virtues in the East, the animal transformations in Africa, and the Dharma and Maya in India.
Compared to the glimpses shown in movies and novels, the real magical world is far more expansive than Ivan had ever imagined.
The magic in this world may not have the power to move mountains or fill the sea.
But upon closer consideration, there's a profound depth and hidden terror within it.
Thinking about it can be truly intimidating.
"If there's a chance in the future, I'd like to go and see it for myself."
Ivan wasn't about to argue whether Maya was superior to Transfiguration, nor did he think the Five Virtues outshone magical transformations.
Whether it's spells or magic, they are simply external expressions.
The real strength lies within the wizard himself.
Indeed, it's the point-based system and the attributes that grant true power. This is the foundation upon which Ivan stands in the magical world.
With that, the journey back to school was exceptionally peaceful.
If there was anything different, it was that Yuumi no longer needed to be caged but instead followed Ivan in her invisible state.
One wizard and one pet disembarked from the train.
This time, they didn't travel through the previous path the founders had taken but took the Thestrals along an alternate path.
Ivan, Hermione, and Parvati were sitting in a carriage. The three girls seemed intrigued by the horseless carriage.
"Is it enchanted to move on its own?"
"Not exactly," Ivan said, shaking his head. "There's something pulling the carriage in front—those are Thestrals."
"Thestrals?"
The girls trusted Ivan but were all curious about these mysterious creatures. Under Ivan's guidance, they each reached forward, feeling something invisible yet solid moving ahead of the carriage.
"Thestrals are a type of magical creature," Ivan explained. "They have a tall, rugged body, dark as night, with a dragon-like head, a horse-like body, and large, bat-like wings. They can fly incredibly fast. But only those who've truly experienced death can see them."
"Experienced death?"
Hearing this, the girls quickly drew their hands back, as though they'd touched something ominous.
"Don't be so scared," Ivan reassured them. "The belief that Thestrals bring bad luck is just a rumor. They're simply another magical creature."
"As for experiencing death, that part is true."
Ivan shared a bit more about Thestrals. "Here, 'experiencing death' doesn't mean just seeing someone pass or witnessing a tragedy—it's a matter of truly understanding death."
"Understanding death?"
"In simple terms," Ivan continued, "it's the loss of someone close to you, someone important. It's that feeling of deep sadness and realizing what it means for a life to end."
"That's when you can see Thestrals."
So, being able to see Thestrals is not necessarily a good thing. It's a reminder that you've lost someone important, a reflection of inner sorrow.
"Ivan, can you see them?"
"I can't, actually."
Unlike some others, Ivan couldn't see Thestrals with his natural sight.
He had fought against dark forces, even defeated Voldemort, but those battles hadn't brought him grief. They hadn't given him that true sense of loss.
However, Ivan possessed a magic eye. All phenomena and forms on a non-material level couldn't escape its perception. Through this eye, Ivan could see the Thestrals shrouded in a dark mist—an ethereal force that hid their true form.
Death? Ivan thought to himself. He was certain it was magic related to death.
No wonder people avoid them, he mused. Even though it's faint, that magic of death can give people an uneasy feeling.
Soon, as Ivan had told them, the returning wizards stepped once more into the grand halls of Hogwarts Castle.
After a long journey, the students were eager for a meal, and Dumbledore, ever considerate, kept things brief. With a simple "Eat," he announced the start of the feast.
"This is a good tradition," Ivan thought.
If he ever became a headmaster, he'd certainly imitate Dumbledore's straightforward approach.
After the dinner, the students returned to their dormitories. Ivan, however, didn't follow Hermione and the others. Percy noticed this but said nothing, allowing him to go about freely.
At Hogwarts, the name Ambrosius practically equated to a bit of privilege.
So, Ivan slipped through the professors and followed Dumbledore at a distance.
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick noticed him but seemed unsurprised.
Only Snape scowled in disapproval, clearly annoyed by the casual disregard a certain young wizard had for school rules.
Such blatant disregard!
"Professor, I heard Ambrosius is often out wandering at night," a Slytherin student grumbled, clearly unhappy.
But all he received was a withering glare from Snape.
"…"
"I—uh—I'm sorry, Professor."
"Go back!"
Did Snape know Ivan was frequently roaming the school after hours?
But so what?
What's the real purpose of prohibiting night wandering?
The rule is in place to encourage students to go to bed early, wake up refreshed, and be more energetic for their studies the next day.
Additionally, the dark corridors of Hogwarts could be dangerous, so young wizards are advised not to roam around after hours.
However, every senior student at Hogwarts knows one thing well:
There isn't a single student who hasn't snuck around at night at least once!
Night wandering is practically a rite of passage at Hogwarts.
Even the Heads of Houses typically give only a verbal warning. As long as students aren't caught in the act, it's not really considered breaking the rules.
And if they are caught…
Filch is the only one patrolling at night, and, well, he's a Squib.
If a student gets caught by Filch… well, the Heads of Houses would likely prefer not to acknowledge it.
"Hmm... has that kid grown even stronger?"
Snape felt a familiar, almost unsettling pressure from Ivan, a sensation he'd only felt before in the presence of the Dark Lord.
But how could that be possible?
Ivan was only eleven years old—turning twelve in a few weeks—a mere first-year student.
Snape was shocked at the thought that Ivan could be on par with the Dark Lord.
He almost laughed at himself for the comparison.
The idea that Ivan had defeated Quirrell, who was possessed by the Dark Lord, seemed absurd to him. That was Voldemort, after all!
No matter how talented Ivan was, there was no way he could defeat someone like the Dark Lord at such a young age.
Only a fool would believe Harry's story!
But Snape was there as well...
This kid...
...
"Would you like something sweet?"
In the headmaster's office, Ivan sat comfortably in his usual spot as Dumbledore smiled and opened the jar filled with cockroach clusters.
"Ehm.. No, thank you."
Once, after Dumbledore's strong recommendation, Ivan had tried one out of curiosity.
How to describe it?
It wasn't an actual cockroach, of course; it was made of chocolate and syrup. But that squirming texture… even though he'd been prepared, it nearly made him gag.
Dumbledore didn't have many odd habits, but this one was certainly his favorite.
Ivan couldn't quite understand it.
What was even more awkward was that ever since Ivan tried the fucking cockroach candy, Dumbledore seemed to think he'd found a kindred spirit and recommended it to him every time.
Ivan was sure the old man was doing it on purpose.
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