Harry Potter: Prince of Shadows

 What does it take to create a miracle?

Ian answered that question with nothing more than a quill and dozens of hours of relentless effort.

He thoroughly transcribed the entirety of seven years' worth of Potions textbooks. The sheer volume was staggering, but thanks to the residual proficiency from his mundane educational background, he managed to copy every word flawlessly—even double-checking for typos.

"Still got it!" Ian exclaimed, shaking his aching arm and setting down the frayed quill. Glancing outside, he realized the sun had yet to set.

There was still time before he would once again enter the dreamlike Mirage Realm.

[Potions Mastery (Level 2): 23/200]

His intense efforts had not only allowed him to finish his goal ahead of schedule but had also yielded a notable improvement in his Potions mastery. His theoretical knowledge now surpassed that of most first- and second-year students. The only gap left was hands-on practice, where he'd likely be a bit rusty.

"Hopefully, I can practice brewing potions in the Limbo Realm too."

Eager for his next dream, Ian also found himself worrying slightly about his two shadow companions. Then again, could a soul that's already dead die twice? He sighed.

Crunch, crunch, crunch…

After hours of intense writing, hunger gnawed at him. He grabbed some leftover bread from the previous day, biting into it like it was a biscuit.

The taste was… indescribable!

The British Wizarding World, much like the Muggle one, wasn't exactly a culinary paradise. Fortunately, Ian wasn't too picky.

Young teeth, strong bite, he thought, treating the bread like an exercise for his jaw.

"By my count, Hogwarts starts in about four or five days."

Nibbling on his brick-like bread, washing it down with some spring water (hopefully not radioactive), Ian gazed at the distant silhouette of the castle, feeling an unexpected surge of anticipation.

As the sun dipped lower, its golden glow softened into hues of amber and crimson.

"Lumos!"

With his Wand-Lighting Charm nearing an upgrade, Ian decided not to waste the evening. He ignited his wand, grinding out those last few points of skill proficiency.

[Illumination Charm (Level 2): 3/200]

Compared to more complex spells or even his growing Potions expertise, white magic like the Illumination Charm advanced at a slower pace.

Of course, this was only true when Ian compared himself to… well, himself. With each level-up, he experienced bursts of insight. His understanding of the charm deepened noticeably.

"Wait… it can do that?"

Experimenting with his newfound comprehension, he flicked his wand. The tip glowed brighter, but then something unexpected happened—the light began to shift colors.

Red.

Blue.

Cyan.

Even an unsettling shade of green.

If I master Mind casting, I could probably use this basic spell to mimic the Killing Curse and freak people out!

A wicked idea, indeed.

"But wait… I already know the actual Killing Curse. That kind of makes this trick pointless."

Not one to give up easily, Ian tried to push the boundaries, attempting to create a light source that could detach from his wand.

Unsurprisingly, he failed.

The moment the light left his wand's tip, the magical circuit collapsed without the wand's stabilizing influence.

"Maybe it's just a proficiency issue. What if I etched this magical circuit onto an object similar to a wand? That might improve stability."

He paused, blinking in realization.

Wait a minute… why does this idea feel so familiar?

Thinking it over, the revelation hit him like a Bludger.

This is literally how physics works!

"Damn it! I almost reinvented the wheel!"

Ian groaned, feeling like he'd just missed out on becoming the next great name to grace a Chocolate Frog Card.

Unwilling to give up, he rifled through his books.

Sure enough, the so-called "brilliant" idea was already centuries old. Wizards had invented alchemical devices capable of sustained illumination long before his time.

Worse still, the families who created these enchanted items still monopolized the wizarding lighting market—much like how every wizard seemed to buy shampoo from the Potter family.

"Curse these monopolies!"

What truly frustrated Ian wasn't that he'd missed the chance to invent alchemy. No, it was the lost opportunity to capitalize on his "eureka moment" and rake in some serious Galleons.

So much gold… lost to the sands of time, simply because I was born a few centuries too late!

Is there anything more tragic for a broke wizard?

No. No, there isn't.

"If I can learn some lost potion recipes or forgotten spells from Professor Mara, I'll patent them all and spend my days counting Galleons in Gringotts!"

Back inside, hugging his notebooks, Ian drifted into sleep, having come to an important self-realization:

I am, at heart, a greedy man.

It wasn't just that he loved money.

It was that he didn't hate monopolies—he just hated that he wasn't the one monopolizing things.

***

"I am so enlightened!"

When Ian opened his eyes again, he found himself in the same magnificent hall as the last time he entered the Limbo Realm.

The witch was already there, seemingly waiting for him.

Cold, aloof, and elegant, she sat on her ever-present throne, her gaze falling not on Ian… but on the mountain of notebooks he'd brought with him.

"You never disappoint," she said with a hint of genuine admiration.

"Ha! I actually managed to bring them in!"

It was Ian's first time attempting to carry so much into the Limbo Realm. Thankfully, everything he held had come through with him.

"Professor Mara, look at how awesome I am!"

Grinning, Ian dumped the notebooks onto the long table. Unlike last time, the chairs and furniture hadn't mysteriously vanished. A few teacups even opened curious little eyes to peer at him.

"Yes, very impressive," Mara praised without hesitation.

Though… she clearly misunderstood. She thought Ian was showing off his ability to bring physical objects across the veil of life and death—not his meticulous note-taking skills.

Hence her next words:

"But you're capable of much more than this. You just haven't realized it yet."

"Huh?" Ian blinked, then caught on.

"What kind of things do you mean?" he asked, intrigued.

"That… you must discover for yourself," Mara replied obscurely.

Ian squinted.

"You know, if you just told me, I could still pretend I figured it out on my own."

The witch fell silent.

For a brief, glorious moment, it seemed even Mara didn't know how to respond.

She sighed.

"I merely sense possibilities. I am not omniscient. How you walk your path… that is yours alone to determine."

Her soft words left Ian deep in thought.

He stared at the books piled before him.

And slowly, a bold idea began to take shape in his mind.

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