Chapter 8: (8) A Snake As A Gift
"Hmm, do you think giving my brother a snake as a gift is a good idea?" Ian pointed at a small green snake and asked.
"Um..." Hermione looked at the little snake flicking its tongue and hesitated. "Ian, don't you think a snake might be too dangerous?"
In the end, Ian bought the green little snake and had the shopkeeper place it in a beautiful glass case for him.
"Don't worry, Hermione. I think Harry will definitely like it." Ian glanced at the snake and had already made up his mind.
With a snake as a pet and Harry's ability to speak Parseltongue, if this development were to be placed in next year's Chamber of Secrets plot...
Wouldn't it make people even more convinced that Harry is Slytherin's heir?
Interesting! Let's do it!
"So, Hermione, did you not find a pet you wanted?" Mrs. Granger asked curiously when the two returned, carrying a glass case.
"Mom, I didn't find a pet I liked," Hermione shook her head, looking a little disappointed. "But Ian picked a snake as a pet for his brother."
"Oh? Really? Let me see," Mr. Granger took the glass case and examined the little green snake inside. "Hmm... it really is a beautiful one."
Ian's eyes lit up. "Uncle Granger, you think so too? I believe Harry will definitely like it."
And if Harry doesn't like it?
Ha! How could Saint Potter possibly bear to refuse a gift from his twin brother, who grew up alone in an orphanage?
"Yes, I think he will," Mr. Granger said with a smile, nodding slightly.
The family left the magical creatures shop and continued wandering around Diagon Alley. It wasn't until the sun set that the four of them concluded their journey and began heading home.
"We'll be home soon. What would you two like to eat?" Mrs. Granger asked gently.
"Mom, I want your spaghetti," Hermione said without hesitation.
"And Ian?" Mrs. Granger turned to Ian.
"I'm fine with anything, Aunt Granger," Ian replied with a smile. He wasn't picky about food.
"Then spaghetti it is," Mrs. Granger decided cheerfully.
Ian looked out the window at the scenery speeding by and silently complained about England's transportation.
The distance between The Leaky Cauldron and Hampstead Garden Suburb isn't that great, yet it still takes two hours to travel between them... So slow.
In the future, when his magical power grows stronger, he'll definitely reform Muggle transportation!
He would rule the wizarding world! Then abolish the Statute of Secrecy! Let wizards drive technological progress!
Ian was brimming with satisfaction as he daydreamed, even the scenery outside the window seemed more pleasing.
"Ian? Ian?" Hermione's voice pulled Ian out of his thoughts. "We're home. What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing, Hermione." Ian shook his head and got out of the car with Hermione. "Let's head inside."
"Okay." Hermione nodded and held Ian's hand as they walked into the house together.
At the dinner table, Mrs. Granger's spaghetti was absolutely delicious, and Ian ate a large portion.
After dinner, Ian carried the golden eagle owl cage and the glass case with the small snake up to his room.
"System, you still alive? Respond if you are," Ian called out in his mind.
Ding!
A mechanical voice echoed in his head, and Ian breathed a sigh of relief.
Good, still there.
His system wasn't like other people's.
Except when encountering a beautiful heroine, it was practically dead most of the time. If he didn't occasionally call out to it, he'd almost believe it had disappeared.
"System, add a magical tracker to this little green snake," Ian ordered, placing the glass case on his desk.
After all, his "Savior" brother had a knack for courting disaster. With Ian acting as a butterfly in the story, who knew how much the plot would deviate?
So, he needed to equip this little green snake with a GPS. If Harry decided to court disaster, he could swoop in and save Harry's life in time.
[Ding! Magical tracking has been successfully installed.]
"Good! Very good," Ian nodded in satisfaction, opened the glass case, and reached inside.
The little green snake obediently coiled around Ian's wrist, its forked tongue flicking gently as though greeting him.
Ian softly stroked the snake's scales, a smile tugging at his lips. "Good, very good. You're such a well-behaved little one."
On its perch, Themis, his golden eagle owl, stared sharply at the small snake in Ian's hand.
The little green snake seemed to sense Themis's threatening gaze and began trembling slightly.
Ian glanced at his golden eagle and then at the snake, finally realizing the problem.
Of course! They were predator and prey! Oh, Merlin!
It seemed he'd need to keep a closer eye on Themis in the future.
Ian lightly tapped his forehead and gently placed the snake back in the glass case. "Themis, this isn't your reserve food supply. This is a gift for my brother. You can't scare it like that."
Themis flapped its wings, returning to its usual proud and aloof demeanor as if to say: I wasn't scaring it—it's just too timid.
"Alright, alright. You weren't planning to eat it. It's just timid," Ian humored his haughty bird.
Themis finally let out a satisfied huff, turned its head away, and stopped looking at the little green snake.
Ian chuckled softly at the scene, amused by Themis's dramatic behavior.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Ian quickly walked over and opened it.
Hermione stood at the door, holding a thick book in her hands.
Ian leaned casually against the doorframe, a "sultry demon"-like smile gracing his lips. "Good evening, Hermione. What's up?"
Hermione, looking at Ian's smiling face, blushed slightly. She quickly lowered her head and handed the book to him. "Ian, I saw something about you and your brother in this book."
Why was it that every time she came to Ian at night, he was always so... so...
At this age, young Hermione had yet to learn the term bewitching male allure.
Ian took the book from Hermione's hands and glanced at the cover—A History of Magic.
His Hermione truly lived up to her title as the ultimate academic. Reading late into the night, and no less reading one of the most boring books imaginable.
Ian flipped the book open and immediately saw the section Hermione was pointing to.
On that page, there was a moving photograph of himself, Harry, and the Potter couple. Judging by the background, it seemed to be from the time they were just born.
Since the photographs in A History of Magic moved, Ian could clearly see James's goofy grin and the gentle look Lily gave him as she gazed at James.
Ian stared at the heartwarming scene in the photograph, silently taking his own copy of A History of Magic, carefully cutting out the picture, and delicately tucking it into his notebook.
"Ian..." Hermione called softly, her voice cautious.
"Thank you, Hermione," Ian said, lowering his gaze. "You know, I dislike reading about history the most. If it weren't for you, I might never have known what my parents looked like."
Hermione's heart ached as she saw the sadness welling up in Ian's eyes, almost spilling over.
On tiptoes, she leaned in and hugged Ian gently. "Ian..."
"I'm fine, Hermione," Ian said softly, returning the hug. "It's late; you should get some rest. Good night."
"Good night, Ian," Hermione replied, letting go and turning to head back to her room.
Ian watched her door close before turning back to his own room. Sitting at his desk, he looked at the photo of James and Lily in his notebook and let out a sigh.
He really was good at acting!
But only by putting on this facade could he keep Dumbledore from suspecting him too much.
The thought of it made Ian want to yell at Voldemort in frustration.
If it weren't for that damned Tom, even starting as an orphan in the eyes of the world wouldn't have made Dumbledore so suspicious of him, probing his mind with Legilimency!
That cunning old man—if it hadn't been for the system helping Ian fabricate a believable "life story," who knew how much more guarded Dumbledore would have been against him.
Ian flipped open his notebook and, next to the photo of James and Lily, carefully wrote a single line:
I miss you, Mom and Dad.
Forget it. Whatever challenges come, he'd deal with them as they arise. He refused to believe he couldn't handle a 100-year-old wizard.
Ian gently traced the faces of James and Lily in the photograph, a glimmer of satisfaction flashing in his eyes.
Perfect.
This would make his persona even more convincing.
He closed the notebook and carefully placed it in the drawer, then climbed into bed.
On the shelf, Themis perched and closed its eyes as well.
Man and eagle both drifted into slumber.