Harry Potter: Prince of Shadows

Ever since Dumbledore personally invited Ian to attend Hogwarts and study magic, the two-week wait had felt excruciatingly long.

His excitement was tempered after his impromptu attempt to visit the Leaky Cauldron ended with a mysterious encounter with a black-robed figure. That incident alone was enough to make Ian shelve his curiosity and remain inside the orphanage.

The thought of potential dangers lurking in the magical world sent chills down his spine. Despite his adult soul, Ian was still just a university student in his previous life. Hardly the sort to handle such threats.

[Successful Latin reading: Linguistics +1]

[Successful Latin reading: Linguistics +1]

[Successful Roman reading: Linguistics +1]

At his desk, Ian pored over his books. His brows furrowed occasionally in thought as he carefully copied words into his notebook and softly pronounced them aloud.

Self-study demanded immense discipline. Even with the attribute panel aiding him, real progress required genuine effort. Each increase in proficiency was a small moment of realization, a sign he had truly absorbed the material.

While leveling up brought significant breakthroughs, the foundation still relied on consistent hard work.

Knock, knock.

A knock on the door broke Ian's focus. He turned toward the sound and called out, "Come in."

Click.

The door opened to reveal Catherine. She leaned against the frame, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Ian, do you want a drumstick? The cook said there are extras tonight!" she said, holding out a chicken drumstick as though offering a prized treasure.

A white, short-haired cat darted in behind her, leaping onto Ian's desk and crouching there with feline grace. Catherine yelped in surprise, then glared at the intruder.

"Gilly! You little pest!"

Ian scooped up the cat, giving its rump a gentle swat. "There, I've punished Gilly," he said, trying to soothe Catherine.

Catherine pouted but eventually nodded, her irritation giving way to a reluctant smile.

"Gilly didn't mean any harm, Catherine. Relax," Ian added reassuringly.

"Alright, Ian," she replied, her mood quickly shifting. Children's emotions could be as fleeting as summer storms.

"When can we go to the magic school?" she asked, her curiosity bubbling over.

Ian couldn't help but smile. The allure of magic was irresistible to anyone.

"Catherine, remember our agreement. You need to keep this a secret," he reminded her gently.

Catherine covered her mouth quickly. "I'm sorry, Ian. I didn't mean to…"

Ian chuckled. "It's fine if it's just me. But learning magic might take a few more years for someone your age."

"I'll eat more and grow up faster! Let's go play with Norne and the others!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm undiminished.

Ian glanced at the language books on his desk. He had planned to push his Linguistics skill to Level 5 and unlock its extraordinary trait. But after Catherine's interruption, his focus had waned, and he knew forcing himself to study further would be futile.

He glanced at his status panel:

[

Name: Ian Prince

Class: Bloodline Sorcerer

Mana: Level 4

Skills:

Linguistics Mastery (Level 4): 500/800

Biological Anatomy (Level 5): 64/1600

Martial Arts (Level 3): 85/400

Psychology (Level 6): 42/3200

Extraordinary Trait: Thought Perception

Extraordinary Trait: Butcher's Instinct

]

Through days of intense study, Ian had raised his Linguistics skill to Level 4, just 300 points shy of the next level. His other skills, however, had seen little progress, as he hadn't been practicing fortune-telling or anatomical tasks recently. Time was limited, after all.

"Alright, let's go," Ian said, setting Gilly down.

The cat darted out of the room, and Ian followed Catherine to the courtyard. There, the children were playing soccer. Seeing Ian, they brightened with excitement.

"Hey, Ian, join our team!" one called out.

"No way! Ian should be on our side so we can win!" another protested.

The debate grew heated, nearly sparking an argument.

Ian laughed and intervened. "Alright, alright. How about I play goalie instead?"

As his time at the orphanage drew to a close, Ian found himself growing increasingly sentimental about the people and things around him.

***

Later that evening, under a star-strewn sky, Ian lay in bed. Though the day had been fulfilling, his thoughts remained fixated on his greatest yearning.

"When can I finally start practicing magic?" he murmured.

Sleep soon claimed him, and Ian once again found himself in the Limbo Realm.

The sky above was as clear as a polished sapphire, its blue hue dazzling and serene. Cottony white clouds floated lazily, like carefully sculpted tufts of sugar. Sunlight streamed through the gaps, creating a playful dance of light and shadow.

Ian inhaled deeply, savoring the tranquility of this world. Before him stretched a fairytale forest, its lush greenery alive with whispers carried on the wind. Small creatures darted among the trees, while butterflies and bees flitted from flower to flower. A winding stone path led deeper into the forest, where shadows pooled like ink.

This time, Ariana was nowhere to be seen. Ian had grown accustomed to her intermittent presence; after all, time flowed differently between the two realms. What felt like mere minutes in reality often stretched into days or even months in the Limbo Realm.

She'll show up eventually, Ian thought, setting off along the path. Strange animals occasionally peeked out from the underbrush, their curious eyes watching him before vanishing.

After some time, Ian emerged into a hidden valley where a small town lay nestled. Though quaint, the town's facilities were remarkably complete: a post office, a tavern with a creaking sign, and a church whose steeple reached toward the heavens.

Yet the town was eerily lifeless. Shops stood with doors tightly shut, their interiors empty and silent. It was as though the place belonged to a bygone era, preserved but devoid of inhabitants.

The Town of the Departed, Ian recalled Ariana's words. She had mentioned that people once lived here but had moved on—their souls either forgetting their attachments or resolving them before embarking on a greater journey.

"You can feel the solitude," Ian mused, crossing the deserted streets. Eventually, he reached Ariana's small cottage. The door was shut, and the windows revealed only silence within.

"Where is she?" Ian muttered. Ariana had never ventured far from the town before. Her absence was unsettling.

Just as worry began to creep in, a voice shattered the quiet. Low and elegant, with a hint of coldness, it carried the authority of someone used to command.

"Oh, heartbroken boy, are you waiting for that poor little girl?"

Startled, Ian whirled around.

A woman stood before him, her eyes as deep and dark as polished onyx. Her lashes framed her piercing gaze like delicate fans, and her perfectly arched brows lent her an air of regality. She was breathtakingly beautiful, exuding elegance and authority.

Clad in a black robe trimmed with gold, she seemed entirely out of the place.