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Once he'd watched the Slytherins haul Filch away like a sack of Flobberworms, Ian resumed his stroll toward the Great Hall. With fewer students vying for the good breakfast options, this might actually be another small victory.
"This," Ian muttered with a smirk, "is wisdom."
The students who had remained at Hogwarts for the holidays were now trickling into the Great Hall, and Ian was among them. Upon entering, he immediately noticed that the number of students had grown since the previous day.
Some had finally been coaxed out of their cosy common rooms by the fair weather, while others had returned from their Christmas visits home.
Of the four houses, Ravenclaw boasted the largest turnout, while Gryffindor lagged behind. Likely, the Ravenclaws were worried their fellow housemates had spent the holidays secretly studying and gaining an advantage.
That sort of anxiety was common among the eagles.
Some of them couldn't even relax over Christmas, fearing that by the time they returned, someone else might've climbed ahead academically. And the truth was, they were often right.
It wasn't just the holidays when others tried to get ahead. It was constant. One student might claim they were heading off to watch the Quidditch match, only to be found secretly poring over Advanced Rune Theories.
There was even the well-known tale of a senior Ravenclaw who, while in the middle of a shouting match with his Gryffindor girlfriend, still managed to flip through his revision notes. It had become a "motivational legend" in Ravenclaw common room lore.
Of course, to the Gryffindor girl in question, it was probably more of a bitter anecdote shared over cocoa and complaints.
"Oi, check out the new toy I brought from home."
"It's the latest model broomstick! You'll be the talk of the pitch after the break."
"Anyone brave enough to try my mum's pie? She got the idea from "Every Flavour Beans", there's a chance you'll bite into one that tastes like fresh sheep dung!"
"You sure your mum didn't just fill it with real dung?"
"Why d'you think I brought it here instead of eating it myself, eh?"
…
The winter chill hadn't managed to freeze the students' energy.
The Great Hall was as lively as ever.
Four long tables ran down the centre, as always.
Each table was dressed in crisp white linens, embroidered at the corners with golden thread, shimmering faintly under the hovering candles and reflecting the light of enchanted sconces and moving portraits that lined the walls. The air was thick with the delicious aromas of baked breads, hearty soups, warm vegetables, and enchanted puddings that danced slightly on their plates.
"Why's everyone looking at me like I've sprouted antlers?" Ian asked as he walked toward the table where Aurora was seated. He spotted Daphne Greengrass and her friend hastily shoving something in their mouths before making a swift exit.
"Didn't sleep well last night, maybe?"
Daphne trembled when Ian caught her by surprise, her face twisted into an expression of startled dread. She took a few wary steps back, much like a skittish fawn.
"Yeah, yeah. Didn't sleep well," She mumbled.
Miss Selwyn, her friend, didn't look much better. She avoided Ian's eyes altogether, her gaze jittery, like she expected him to hex her without warning.
"This is very odd."
Ian watched as the two girls fled the Great Hall like they'd seen a Banshee. Then he glanced around and realised they weren't the only ones acting strangely.
All across the room, students were giving him sidelong glances.
Expressions ranging from confused to awestruck flickered across dozens of faces. Ian mentally combed through his actions over the past two days, but he was certain he hadn't done anything too conspicuous.
He was honestly quite ready for a break from the loops and had been making a point of keeping a low profile.
"Why are you looking at me like that too?" Ian asked as he dropped into the seat beside Aurora. The German girl's bizarre tea-brewing ritual from last night still lingered unpleasantly in his memory.
"Not just us, the professors are doing it too." Aurora kept her head down, eating from her plate piled high with golden fried eggs, crispy sausages, and toast thick with blackberry jam. She was never one to fuss; whatever appeared on her plate, she ate without complaint.
Ian, of course, was rather more particular.
He loaded his own plate with roast beef, thick-cut bacon, and more sausages, clearly in pursuit of a protein-heavy breakfast. Even the porridge he sipped was no ordinary fare, it was a special congee of pickled quail egg and finely shredded wyvern meat, freshly prepared each morning by the ever-dedicated house-elves.
"Honestly… What's so strange about me?"
Between bites, Ian glanced toward the staff table.
Only Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout were present this morning. Both were watching him with peculiar expressions on their faces, leaning toward one another as though whispering something confidential.
Professor McGonagall looked especially troubled.
Professor Sprout, meanwhile, seemed more stunned than suspicious. The moment she noticed Ian's eyes on her, she quickly turned away, avoiding his gaze like a guilty third-year caught nicking Gillyweed from the greenhouses.
"Have they all somehow found out about the miraculous potion I brewed?" Ian frowned, running through every event since escaping the time loop.
Nothing he'd done recently should've raised suspicion.
"Last night," Aurora began, her tone cautious, "Several students, mostly pure-bloods and a few high-achievers, had very strange dreams. They all had one thing in common."
She glanced sideways at Ian.
"They all featured you."
Ian blinked. That sinking feeling in his stomach began to grow.
"What did they dream about?"
"Some remembered more clearly than others. Like me, I remember mine perfectly." Aurora raised a hand and began ticking off fingers as she spoke.
"People said you kept a Dementor chained under your bed and used it to scare students in their sleep. Others dreamed you blasted holes through half the school with cursed cauldrons."
She paused for dramatic effect.
"Daphne and her friend swore they saw you tying Marcus Flint to a broomstick, dousing it in Firewhisky, setting it alight, and launching him across the Astronomy Tower."
"And then you threatened them, said if they told anyone, you'd make them the first wizards to land on the moon." Aurora gave Ian a pointed look. Clearly, she'd gathered all this before breakfast.
"…"
Ian's face twitched.
Merlin's beard.
Every one of those things were something he'd done in the time loops, just before each reset. How on earth had those memories manifested as dreams in the minds of Hogwarts students?
"What about you?" He asked warily. "What did you dream about?"
Something was definitely wrong.
He had done things far worse than those mentioned. If even half of those got out, his reputation, which is already shaky, would be utterly shattered.
"I dreamed about you using my wand to pick noses… the noses of magical beasts in the Forbidden Forest. You claimed you were gathering mucus samples for potions."
Aurora shuddered slightly, as though just recalling the nightmare.
(To Be Continued…)