Ghosts really find it hard to keep any secrets.
"They all call me the Wailing Widow, maybe we can have a chat? Little fellow, don't be shy, I'm really interested in how you can touch ghosts."
The flamboyantly dressed ghost chased Ian around the classroom.
He ran.
She chased.
He really wanted to sprout wings and fly.
"I think you're better off finding a ghost like yourself!" Ian pulled out his magic wand and blasted the widow ghost away, unexpectedly causing another burst of cheers in the classroom.
"It's magic! Magic hit a ghost! His name is Ian! Ian, who brought us the skeleton musicians!" shouted Edmund Grubb, who had earlier suggested bringing Ian here.
"They're not skeleton musicians!" Ian looked at the gathered ghosts and quickly protected his basket, but his words didn't earn the ghosts' trust.
"Isn't this the skeleton band? One, two, three, four, five... I can't count them."
"They must be! I saw the band Dumbledore invited yesterday, they looked like this—white, no flesh, distinct bones. If they're not skeleton musicians, what are they?"
"Quick! Wake them up! Let them perform a bit!"
"It must be that Little Ian wants us to reward him, so he keeps denying he brought the skeleton band. Quick, let Bloodman Barrow get Peeves to bring Ian a butterbeer!"
...
The ghosts surrounded Ian, chattering nonstop.
Ian originally wanted to explain properly that these were just his research specimens, but after hearing the cheerful words of the Fat Monk, he swallowed his words for the third time today.
"Can you get butterbeer?" This was the one thing Ian couldn't get in the Hogwarts kitchen; the little elves were strict about it.
The age limit was third year.
As for the non-alcoholic version... can you even call that beer?
"Of course, with alcohol~"
The Fat Monk leaned in, lowering his voice with a cheeky expression. For ghosts having fun, some rules didn't seem to be as important.
"It's not the spoiled kind, right?" Ian swallowed, still a bit uneasy as he asked; he had already seen what kind of food ghosts usually had.
"Of course not! It was something a professor gave us last night. We intended to let it age a bit before enjoying it, but it seems you aren't the type to follow all the rules, hehe~" Another ghost floated over, reassuring Ian, who glanced toward the doorway.
"Can you find Peeves? Or should I get it myself?" Ian was eager, truly craving what he'd desired but hadn't tasted since entering the wizarding world.
"Of course! Today's a holiday! Drink however you want! Celebration, right? Enjoy to the fullest!" One ghost's cheer seemed to speak right to Ian's heart.
Soon enough.
Sure enough.
An unwilling Peeves brought over plenty of butterbeer. Upon seeing Ian, it immediately put on an exaggeratedly hardworking expression, then quickly turned and slipped away as if afraid of staying a minute longer, fearing Ian might ignite it to entertain the other ghosts.
"Yes, yes, yes! It really is butterbeer!" Ian quickly poured himself a glass, sniffed it to ensure it hadn't gone bad, and then took a sip.
The taste was indeed good.
Ian even wanted to have it with beer-fried chicken.
Probably due to the anticipation for the skeleton band, a ghost quickly informed the little elf, and soon Ian got his desired fresh midnight snack.
Although the room still had the smell of spoiled food, it clearly didn't affect Ian as he dispersed the odor and enjoyed his supper. He even used magic to chill his butterbeer a bit more.
"It's quite a unique flavor!"
In fact, butterbeer doesn't have a high alcohol content, but some people choose to add extra alcohol, and the one Ian drank clearly had that extra touch.
After just a few cups of beer.
He was already getting a bit flushed.
In his previous life as a top student, he never touched alcohol.
This life, he finally got a taste.
"Is it good?"
A ghost came over, filled with envy and curiosity. This one presumably died before butterbeer was invented, so they couldn't imagine the taste of many foods from later times.
"Much better than the non-alcoholic one, you can even blow bubbles after drinking it, watch me guzzle it down." Ian, in front of the ghost, gulped down an entire glass.
He remembered this was one of the annoying ghosts who brought him to the feast: "It's just that good, delightful, with a cooling sensation in your stomach."
Another glass down.
Ian, munching on a drumstick, made an exaggerated expression of enjoyment. This was the cunning of the Little Wizard, and it indeed made the eyes of many ghosts almost pop out with envy.
"Being alive is really great."
A gluttonous ghost sighed.
"No worries, I'll eat and drink more for you, as if you're also enjoying it." Ian looked at the sighing ghost and immediately drank another glass and took a few bites of drumstick.
This ghost was also one of those who carried him to the feast.
And it carried him face first.
Yep.
Ian was carried face-down to this feast.
"He's still a child... don't lead him astray," Helena Ravenclaw floated over at this time, looking at Ian as he fiddled with the skeletons.