Hogwarts: Bloodline Legend

Chapter 847 239: Substitute Teacher, Too Bad It's Not Me!

The room was filled with a blend of old and mysterious atmosphere.

The light was dim and gloomy.

Some dust danced freely in the faint light.

The black-robed Skeleton seemed to enjoy staying in such an environment. Sometimes, after Ian left the Room of Requirement, she would make some changes to the design that Ian originally liked.

"I don't even know your name."

Ian's gaze landed directly on the black-robed Skeleton, and his heart was filled with emotion. Once such a radiant and lively Goddess, now only a white skeleton remains.

In such a case where things are different, how can he not be filled with emotions? Indeed, the gods are dead, the magic is extinguished... The changes in this world are truly unpredictable.

Ian wondered curiously what had happened to the black-robed Skeleton and those so-called gods, causing them to fall from their former glory to their present state.

Thinking of this.

Ian naturally shifted his gaze to the Magic Wand in his hand, his eyes full of inquiry, secretly pondering: "I wonder if the Skull Goddess's power is hidden in this wand."

The core of this wand is a Raven's feather. According to Merlin, it contains the power that the gods possess, perhaps even the divine power of the black-robed Skeleton is incorporated within it.

"Is it consolidating divine authority..." Ian instinctively shook the Magic Wand, but apart from the movement of air, none of the strange phenomena like the solar divine power that he expected appeared.

This did not surprise Ian; he merely had a sudden whim, hoping to "borrow" some power. Unfortunately, his wand did not respond to such a request.

Perhaps the wand resonated with his intentions, knowing he belonged to the type who "borrows" and never returns; the little wizard pouted in disappointment.

"You and I are interconnected, you play tricks with me, letting me borrow in advance won't cost you a penny of wood." Ian's persuasion was unsuccessful, and he immediately placed the Magic Wand behind his backside—being petty like this, unable to achieve the desired result, he aimed to let his wand experience his exhaust fumes.

"You remember nothing of the past? You've forgotten the five thousand tons of gold you owe me, right? Well, just keep it in mind now so you don't forget later."

The little wizard tried once more to communicate with the black-robed Skeleton, but inquiries about her and the gods remained fruitless, only receiving several stuttered responses of "I don't know," Ian heard that familiar phrase for the nth time.

"I need love, love can... can make me grow flesh and blood, form a brain... brain." Perhaps this was the black-robed Skeleton getting a bit smarter, using her brain to bolster Ian's enthusiasm. Naturally, she hoped Ian could give her flesh, promising that with a brain, she could answer Ian's questions.

To this.

Ian grasped the idea.

But he didn't know what to do... After hesitating a moment, Ian had attempted by holding the bony head of the black-robed Skeleton and kissing it a few times.

However.

Nothing happened.

"I told you it wouldn't work!" Ian comforted himself, saying it was not wasted since the black-robed Skeleton was originally quite beautiful, and expressed helplessness at not knowing what to do.

The black-robed Skeleton did not react much to those kisses, and expressed her own powerlessness in giving Ian a detailed suggestion on how to proceed.

"Flesh and blood..."

She lowered her head, stroking the Dementor. That somewhat wistful murmuring left Ian feeling quite helpless; was it a lack of love? Surely, he couldn't be expected to stick out his tongue and lick the black-robed Skeleton's bones?

So perverse!

So disgusting!

"I'll think of another way..." Ian shook his head and walked to the back of the room, the entire Room of Requirement was filled with the bitter fragrance typical of magic potions.

These were potions that Ian had brewed in this room before traveling back through time. However, lacking the optimal stirring and time for other operations, they were no longer perfect.

Some even completely spoiled... That's the nature of potion-making; even slight disparities in timing can ruin months of effort.

"This bill should be charged to Riddle's account." Ian roughly calculated his losses and multiplied them by ten, considering it compensation for wasted time, noting it down in his little notebook.

If Riddle had any life left, Ian thought he must make him repay this debt; as for if Riddle was no longer alive... then for the little wizard, that would be even better.

As Misty Illusion Realm disappears.

Riddle could suffer the consequences for a lifetime!

"Such good stuff, worthy of my dear uncle's collection-level materials, alas, all ruined." Ian squatted down, observing the failed potions in more than ten cauldrons.

Some potions still had a chance of being salvaged.

Thus.

He immediately began the salvage operation—though the final product wasn't exceptional, just passable; however, Ian poured them all into bottles labeled with "Snape's product."

"These could be sold to a pharmacy in Diagon Alley." Ian was quick in cutting his losses, recovering what he could, he once more turned his gaze to those potions that were entirely ruined.

The liquid in several cauldrons had already become turbid, unsalvageable, complete failures, but this didn't stump Hogwarts' little prodigy.

Only to see.