It's clearly not cold enough to need a knitted hat yet.
"It must be the head getting warmer!"
The one who answered the question was the freckle-faced boy who always paid tuition with all kinds of snacks. His tone was certain, and while others didn't believe him, Ian had absolute faith in this boy's words—apart from the freeloading William, the Chocolate Frog Boy was the only one who bought two pairs of heated underwear from Ian.
Perhaps niche items have loyal users, but this couldn't hide Ian's business failure, and even the enchanted bronze eagle head of Ravenclaw noticed his gloomy mood over the past few days.
"Why haven't you been chatting with me these past few days?" The bronze eagle head's voice resembled Nana Mizuki's and rarely initiated conversations with little wizards outside of asking questions.
"Because I've been busy lately. I'm a student, I need to study, don't I?" Ian already understood the petty nature of this bronze eagle head, so he answered cautiously and sensibly.
However.
Ancient alchemy creations and thousand-year-old women probably aren't too different.
"I saw you chatting happily with other little wizards. Last night you spoke to twenty-three little wizards in the common room and smiled at eleven little witches."
"You had four thousand seven hundred eighty-six conversations with them. If you saved some, you could chat with me for half an hour." The bronze eagle head's math skills were evidently quite good.
Perhaps thanks to Ian.
But this had clearly become a stone he lifted only to drop on his foot. So in order to come back from his night stroll and sleep, Ian had no choice but to sit cross-legged on the floor and chat.
"I wonder if anyone will come to catch me."
Ian glanced around the common room; in winter, everyone preferred staying by the fireplace, and little wizards rarely wanted to leave the warmth before class started.
The twins' creations were just hand warmers, which obviously couldn't compete with a blazing fire.
"What do you want to chat about today?"
Ian posed the question to the bronze eagle head, while also being on alert for anyone entering or leaving. He wasn't doing this purely out of choice, but because recently, senior wizards had started getting stuck outside.
There's a bounty in Ravenclaw for whoever corrupts the bronze eagle head. Even though Ian wanted to turn himself in and claim the reward, he was still concerned about his reputation within Ravenclaw.
"Anything, really. Whatever you want to chat about. Since I started talking with you, I feel like I'm becoming smarter; you are clearly bestowing wisdom upon me."
The bronze eagle head's voice was quite cheerful.
"Let's talk about quantum mechanics then."
Ian picked a topic.
He didn't know much about this field, but the bronze eagle head knew even less, so when faced with tricky questions, he could always use the excuse of not needing to discuss this now to deflect. Although he could make up some nonsense, undermining knowledge wasn't proper.
Time ticked away.
Since Ian wasn't keen on attending the magic history class that afternoon, he went to Hagrid's to gather the ingredients he wanted, then entered the Room of Requirement to brew potions.
Feeling idle.
Ian began to research his assistant.
This Dementor, forced by Ian to do various tasks, yet still feeling confused about the situation, hadn't received Ian's latest instructions and began to satisfy its hunger and instincts, extending its rotten-like hands toward the little wizard before it.
"You want me to do your nails? I only know how to replace them with dragon claws." Ian frowned as he assessed the difficulty of biological alchemy for the Dementor's hands.
The Dementor didn't respond, leaning its head in. Its hood naturally slipped back, revealing its face that was just slightly better than a faceless one, with no eyes. In the spot where eyes ought to be, there was only a scabby layer of peeled skin, like cicada wings draped over hollow eye sockets.
"Hehehe~"
The Dementor's hands had already clasped onto the little wizard's shoulders, but found itself shivering and powerless, unable to lift the little wizard or pull him closer.
"It's quite convenient here to install a pair of eyeballs... I wonder if Uncle has suitable eyes, perhaps I could fit you with two Golden Snitches." Ian allowed the Dementor to rest its hands on his shoulders, feeling this Dementor was very friendly and obedient.
Even when shoulder-to-shoulder, it was careful, clearly a well-mannered Dementor—though its little mouth twitched a bit too frequently, causing the surrounding air to drop several degrees. Ian wrapped his robe tighter and, without a word, slapped the Dementor.
"Ugh!"
The Dementor was stunned by the slap.
Its little mouth stopped moving.
"Stand firm and don't interrupt my research!" Upon hearing Ian's command, the Dementor seemed like a statue, while Ian pried open its eyelids and reached into its eye sockets.
The twelve-foot-tall Dementor was like a mountain compared to the little wizard, even taller than Hagrid, the half-blood giant. At the position where the eyes should be, Ian could put his entire hand inside.
"I really can't feel its brain."
Ian discovered that when he reached into the hollow beneath the Dementor's eyelids, whether probing left or right, all he could feel was an expanse of void, like foggy gas.
Amidst the fog.
Very cold.
This supernatural creature had already exceeded what science can explain.
More magical than magic.
"Wait here." Ian ran to the potion materials processing table, grabbed a sharp knife, and returned. The sightless Dementor shivered a few times for unclear reasons.
Sadly, it couldn't move.
"Where's my knife?" Ian shoved the sharp knife into the void beneath the Dementor's eyelids, but when he reached in again, all he could feel was that same fog-like chilly gas.
Unwilling to give up, he threw several things in and found the same outcome. Ian was somewhat disappointed that the Dementor couldn't transform into a soul-stealing Doraemon; he wouldn't get a portable storage space.
"But if I could fix it in here, I could install a pair of eyeballs." Ian thought adding a few bolts into the Dementor's eye sockets shouldn't attract the attention of the animal protection society.
"If it could shoot Avada beams from its left eye, the Wizarding World might get its own Uchiha!" Ian lamented not having suitable materials to cyber-modify the Dementor.
After fiddling with the Dementor until it continuously shivered, Ian finally succeeded in brewing the potion he wanted after several failed attempts at replicating Snape's operations—the mysterious blue was filled with an intoxicating hue.
Cleaned up the crucible.
Noted there was still a long time until dinner, Ian considered the magical Room of Requirement again, recalling the words of the Professor of Alchemy.
"I need a room to study your inherent nature!" Ian wished with a try-it-out attitude, and unexpectedly, when he opened the Room of Requirement again.
He truly received a response from the room—the ancient castle's chamber showed its holder the secrets hidden in the thousand-year span.
The room was covered with countless inscriptions, shining brightly between them, a line of text caught Ian's attention. It was the Room of Requirement's true name over the years.
Hufflepuff's Golden House.