"Prove the Riemann conjecture to me!"
After a whole night, the bronze eagle head not only didn't let Ian off the hook but even intensified its relentless nagging, vividly demonstrating what it means to be truly petty.
Fortunately, it wasn't too late at this time, and little wizards were coming and going non-stop. Ian found the right moment when a little wizard was going out and smoothly squeezed inside.
The bronze eagle head was unwilling but helpless against Ian.
"Ian, I want to learn the Steak Curse!"
As soon as he entered the common room,
Ian saw Michael run over directly.
"What Steak Curse?"
He thought Michael might have discovered the secret about the little elves.
"Today, some Gryffindor little wizard seemed to mispronounce a syllable while using the Wingardium Leviosa spell. He ended up summoning a wild bull right in the Gryffindor common room!"
"Oh my goodness! This is the kind of magic we should really be learning! We would have an endless supply of steaks for a lifetime!" Michael had a dreamy look on his face.
"!!!!!"
Of course, Ian had heard of such things before, but he didn't expect Gryffindor to have a reenactment. "You give me a moment to study, I've been pondering over this for quite some time now."
"Haven't you gone to ask that Gryffindor student?" Ian even thought of going himself to inquire, but Michael's sigh and disappointing response caught him off guard.
"He himself couldn't even replicate the process. All the Gryffindor students are now pondering in their common room; even Professor McGonagall couldn't keep it under control."
Michael's words made Ian once again lament his unfortunate luck.
"I can definitely figure it out, but certainly not tonight. Tonight, I plan to teach everyone a not-so-dangerous Evil Curse." Ian's words immediately piqued Michael's interest.
"Ian is going to teach us Dark Arts! Come on! Everyone gather!"
Michael began calling out with great enthusiasm.
Indeed, Evil Curses do fall under the category of Dark Arts, but they tend to be relatively mild harmful magic. Some Evil Curses are even taught in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
Of course, Michael's shouting certainly made it easy for others to misunderstand that Ian was going to teach some Unforgivable Curses, and Ravenclaw students really had an insatiable curiosity. Upon hearing about Dark Arts, even older students gathered around, each talking about Avada this and Imperio that.
"I'm going to teach the Leg-Locking Curse..."
In the midst of collective disappointed sighs, Ian began today's little class, during which he playfully pretended to award some points to a few little wizards.
Everyone was very receptive to this; after all, reward systems work effectively anywhere. In the bustling classroom, the little wizards quickly started practicing what they had just learned.
The sounds of bumps and thuds echoed ceaselessly. Watching everyone practice spells on roommates or siblings, Ian felt that no one would dare teach these magic fanatics the Unforgivable Curses.
"Luckily, I know these guys well!"
Ian sighed with relief.
The Leg-Locking Curse would bind the victim's legs, rendering them unable to walk normally. While it causes some inconvenience, it doesn't result in severe harm.
Getting a bruised face from a fall is probably the biggest risk.
There are also those who could adapt to the feeling of having their legs locked; Ian saw his good roommate William squirming on the ground like a slug, stubbornly claiming he felt nothing.
"Finite Incantatem!"
Seeing everyone turn into slugs squirming across the floor, Ian took advantage of their lack of knowledge and used "all curses end" to break the continuous Leg-Locking Curses on everyone.
That was perfectly fine.
By the time everyone figured out something was amiss, Ian would have already mastered "finite incantatem". When someone questioned Ian, he could strike back hard with facts.
"What kind of magic is this? So cool!"
"Oh my goodness! The young professor casting spells is way cooler than my brother!"
"Even the way he holds his magic wand is cool!"
In a chorus of "so awesome" exclamations, Ian cheerfully ended today's small class. Instead of heading back to the dormitory, he started browsing the books on the small bookshelf in the common room.
"Merlin's Legend"
It's a biographical novel with not much real magic content but full of twists and turns, giving Ian a delightful reading experience like a feel-good story.
"Some people's lives are indeed more thrilling than stories." Even when everyone else had returned to their dorms for rest, Ian remained engrossed in the story by the fireplace.
The fire's light reflected on the surrounding silver-white walls, casting everything in a soft, warm golden hue, making the whole common room seem even cozier and more comfortable.
Ian was waiting for someone.
Or rather, he was waiting for a ghost.
As night fell, the silver glow gently enveloped the Ravenclaw common room, making it especially peaceful and mysterious under the moonlight's caress. The warm fireplace shielded Ian from the harsh cold outside. Sitting on the sofa by the hearth, he could clearly feel the warmth rising from his feet, gradually spreading throughout his body.
There must be some magic on the fireplace, making it comparable to a large six-horsepower air conditioner, and truly energy-efficient at that.
"Morgan... and King Arthur…" Ian's whisper faintly echoed in the common room, tinged with indescribable nostalgia and a sense of inexplicable wonder.