Reversed Celestial Spirits!
Snape might be very skilled at "Levicorpus", and also have it used on him, but there's no way he could possess the power to reverse cause and effect because of it. Ian was certain he'd seen the real truth!
Snape is a plagiarist!
This is definitely a huge dirt on Professor Snape—maybe not as juicy as his story with Lily Potter, but it's still the kind of truth that could make Snape instantaneously become a social pariah at Hogwarts.
The impact would be nothing less than if a middle schooler had their entire school find out their online screen name was [King's Contempt], and their personal signature was [Let The World Taste Pain]!
"Why are you grinning like an idiot?"
The Witch had no idea why Ian was standing there with a goofy smile.
"I just thought of something funny."
Ian felt the Witch's gaze and immediately snapped back to reality.
"Threatening people makes you happy?"
The Witch's deep eyes seemed able to see straight through everything.
"Teacher Mara! And here you said you couldn't use Mind Reading!"
Ian was once again shocked beyond words.
"You just asked about that phrase and now you're standing there laughing like a fool. Any normal person could guess what tricks you're playing in your head."
The Witch rubbed her brow helplessly, as if she couldn't handle Ian's stupidity.
"Come on, tell me—who ended up with my book?"
She seemed to still care a lot about the things she left behind in the mortal world.
"It was one of my professors. Every year in class, he uses the same opening line: the very one you, Teacher Mara, wrote in a certain book."
Ian quickly gave his answer.
"That school called Hogwarts, the professor who teaches you Magic Potion there?" The Witch saw Ian nod, and replied with an indifferent tone.
"Well, it's not really a disgrace."
The exact disgrace didn't need to be spoken.
Obviously, it was about the knowledge this proud Witch had written.
"Can Magic Potion really prevent Death?"
Ian finally asked the burning question that troubled Hogwarts students for generations.
"Of course it can, but your professor at school—he definitely can't do it." The Witch chuckled ambiguously, her tone full of mysterious certainty.
"Why?"
Ian pressed for more.
"Because I already chopped down the last Golden Apple Tree in the world, and to prevent Death—or even reverse Life and Death itself—the main ingredient you need for the Magic Potion is a Golden Apple."
The Witch patiently explained to Ian, "Of course, if your professor is enough of a genius, maybe he could find something in your era that replaces a Golden Apple."
Even though she put it that way, the Witch's tone was laced with disdain—she clearly didn't believe that any modern Magic Potion Scholar could ever find a substitute for the Golden Apple among Magic Potion Materials.
Ian didn't buy it either.
After all.
If Snape really could defeat Death, people wouldn't constantly roast him for being all talk—it's obvious from the original story that Snape really can't brew a potion like that.
But still.
Now that he knew where that oft-repeated opening line actually came from and what era, Ian finally found the origin of Snape's classic phrase.
He couldn't do it.
But once upon a time... someone really could.
"Teacher Mara, why did you chop down the Golden Apple Tree?" This wasn't the first time Ian heard the Witch mention tree chopping, and he wondered if it connected to the obsession the Witch left in the Misty Illusion Realm?
"Because I felt like it."
The Witch smiled sweetly.
No hint in her expression of anything off-kilter.
"Alright then."
Ian also realized there was no way he'd get the real answer.
"Magic Potion is different from Magic. All sorts of ingredients are constantly changing—if you want to learn, you'll need to bring me some Magic Potion Books from your era."
The Witch deliberately changed the subject.
"Don't I need to fetch any materials?"
Ian blinked.
"My dear apprentice, while I've been dead for ages, I trust that even in your time, Magic Potion Materials are never cheap as dirt."
"So, even if your teacher wanted them... could you afford to buy them?"
Lies don't hurt people.
The truth is the real knife.
Ian, exposed as a penniless pauper, couldn't help but flush a little red in his youthful face.
"As long as the school has the stuff, I can probably get a little of it." Ian fully admitted he was a broke guy—but Hogwarts was definitely NOT a broke school!
"Ha, I don't want you to get hunted down by your own Magic Potion teacher." The Witch, clearly a Master of Magic Potions herself, obviously knew how precious Magic Potion Materials were in a master's heart.
"Professor Snape is actually pretty good to me. Maybe if I just beg and act all pitiful, he'll lend me some Magic Potion Materials. Actually, I already owe him a lot of money."
Ian said, a little uncertainly.
"That's how nice he is to you and you still want to blackmail him? Tsk tsk, you really do have some Dark Wizard traits." The Witch gave Ian a surprised look, sizing him up again.
"..."
Ian didn't really know how to explain—he just felt that blackmail was like a nuke: you don't have to use it, but it's always better to have one than not.
"Alright, I won't tease you anymore."
The Witch waved cheerily. "Don't underestimate your teacher—I just haven't touched this knowledge for a while. Just get me some modern books."
"Won't be long before I catch up to your era and then... I'll surpass it." With incomparable confidence, the Witch's pride burned bright in that moment.
Ian even felt a little fired up himself.
Who wouldn't want a badass teacher!
The better your teacher—
the more you can learn!
He could already see a bright future ahead!
"All praise to you! Teacher Mara!"
Ian started applauding on the spot, laying down some serious flattery.
"Ha, I can tell you'll go far."
The Witch, in a good mood, gave Ian a little evaluation.
"Of course! How could I not, with a teacher as amazing as you?"
Ian picked it up immediately.
Natural as can be.
However—
"I meant your gift for flattery—you'll be smooth sailing on the way to power." The Witch kept chuckling as she continued her comment.
Is that a compliment?
Sounds nothing like it!
"Heartfelt compliments aren't flattery at all..." Ian widened his eyes, all innocence, as if he'd never heard something so unbelievable.
"See, I told you you're talented."
The Witch was having none of his act.
Ian, usually thick-skinned, actually felt a bit awkward now.
"Study Magic well. When you get strong enough, you won't need any disguises." The Witch gave Ian a subtle, meaningful piece of advice.
"I understand."
Ian's expression turned earnest.
"Now, my slow-witted apprentice, come learn some Magic." The Witch suddenly rose from her bench and, with her long legs, walked toward Ian.
"You're far too weak right now."
The Witch stood beside Ian, easily over a head taller than him, radiating an aura of dominance that made Ian feel unavoidably pressured.
"I don't have a Magic Wand."
Ian said nervously.
"A Magic Wand is only a tool."
The Witch glanced at Ian's completely-confused face.
She couldn't help sighing.
"Your era... really is bizarre." She couldn't help but comment, then lifted her hand and snapped off the metallic frame of a painting in the grand hall.
At the very same moment—
No Incantation.
No other movement at all.
The metallic frame, simply passed to Ian by the Witch, slowly changed shape into the classic form of a Magic Wand—though no one could tell what kind of wood it was supposed to be.
"Magic?"
Ian was stunned.
"Knowledge."
The Witch's voice was calm and steady.
While Ian was still debating whether this discount teacher was messing with him, the Witch had already come up behind him and pressed a finger to the back of his head.
"Let's start with a simple Spell."
Almost as soon as the words left her mouth—
Ian felt a terrifying chill surge through him, one that made him quiver in fear.
"Feel this intent to kill."
The Witch's soft voice made Ian realize something was wrong.
What kind of simple Spell has you feel killing intent?
"Focus and feel it, and then, repeat after me..."
The Witch's finger stayed pressed to the back of Ian's skull, transmitting some unknown emotion into his mind. Ian could only feel an overwhelming urge boiling inside his brain.
"Avada Kedavra."
In the grand, ornate hall—
The fire flickered in the hearth.
The Witch taught her apprentice the very first Magic.