If witnessing the fact that magic truly exists in this world left Hermione somewhat shocked, then the words from the little wizard bring a direct sense of horror to this frizzy-haired little girl.
As if memories from the past were attacking her, Hermione felt her scalp tingle and her spine chill, wanting to run away. However, the only door leading outside was right behind Ian.
She looked back again at the office where her father, Mr. Granger, and Lady Yelena were, the door tightly shut, ultimately failing to muster the courage to seek her father's shelter.
"You... you... what are you talking about? I don't understand, I completely don't understand." Between admitting or denying, Hermione chose to feign ignorance, something she had always despised.
The "smell of truth" law was still exerting its effect across time and space.
"You know standing before you is a wizard, or as you understand, a mage, right?" Ian's action of raising the magic wand made Hermione's eyes slightly tense.
Her entire body visibly tensed up, her panicked expression clearly showing her worry about Ian casting a spell on her.
"You... you wizards should also abide by the law, right? In our British legal system, intentionally harming others is among the most serious of crimes."
"Section 18 of the 1861 Offences Against the Person Act stipulates that the maximum sentence can be life imprisonment!" Clearly, Hermione didn't just enjoy reading books normally; she could even recite British legal provisions and who knows if it was also due to a moment of inspiration under nervousness.
Although the little girl stuttered initially, she became incredibly articulate towards the end, though her somewhat ruffled demeanor made Ian almost unable to hold back his laughter.
He felt that the idiom "bluffing" had materialized at this moment.
"Who said I want to hurt you? You must have a persecution complex." Ian deliberately put on a disdainful expression, placing his raised hand on his temple.
"As your merciful senior, I just wanted to show you the wonders of magic." With that, the little wizard pulled out a strand of silver memory from his mind.
"Is the word 'merciful' really appropriate here?"
Hermione had an obsession with semantics, and despite keeping a close eye on Ian's every move, internally anxious and nervous, she still pointed out Ian's error in word usage.
Of course.
In the little wizard's view, his wording wasn't wrong.
"When you can attend Hogwarts, only then will you realize how apt my description is." Ian gave a meaningful glance at the little girl in front of him.
He realized he might not entirely dislike showing off.
"What are you doing?"
Hermione's gaze locked onto the silver thread clinging to the magic wand—it exuded a gentle and mysterious glow, like flowing moonlight or the brightest star in the night sky.
As Hermione wondered if this was cerebrospinal fluid.
"Of course, helping certain forgetful children remember their selective amnesia." Ian waved his hand, and the silver thread drawn from his temple floated gracefully in the air. It looked like a silver ribbon leading a mysterious journey, allowing Hermione to witness the wonders of magic for the first time, astonishing her immensely.
Only to see.
The silver thread dispersed in midair.
Then transformed into specks of starlight, enveloping everything around in a dreamlike glow, as if painting everything with different colors.
The boundary between reality and illusion blurred, taking Ian and Hermione back to the time they first met, the vivid surroundings leaving Hermione utterly gawking.
"Oh my god! It's like being in a dream!"
Her little mouth unconsciously gaped open, forming an "O" of surprise, forgetting how to close it, as though even breathing stalled in that instant.
Hermione saw the scene of her and her mother walking toward the divination stall, saw another "little wizard" conversing with her mother and herself.
Everything was so real, it was as if she had returned to the past and was immersed in it. Numerous time-related movie plots sprang to Hermione's mind.
How unbelievable, how heart-stirring!
Standing in the observer's position, Hermione was just as Ian was the first time he experienced such magic, utterly stunned and amazed, trying to touch a nearby lamppost to confirm the reality of it all.
No surprise, Ian's memory manifesting magic indeed had the essence of Dumbledore, the little girl not only successfully touched the lamppost but also, with Ian's sneaky manipulation, got her hair to explode.
"Is this magic?"
Hermione didn't suffer the pain or injuries one would get from an electric shock, after all, it was merely an illusion crafted by Ian, though when she spoke, a lot of smoke puffed out from between her teeth.
"No, this is the ironclad evidence of your promise to eat the table." Ian gestured for Hermione to look ahead. There, the past events were unfolding once again.
And they were being replayed slowly by the little wizard, as if he was worried Hermione couldn't hear every line of dialogue, demonstrating his future English gentlemanly attentiveness and meticulousness.
"A great suggestion, I have a recommendation for you as well, 'New Principles of Digital Divination' is a good book, you might want to take a look."