36: Oh, so I didn't need to pretend after all.

What does it take to create a miracle?

Ian answered this question with a pen and dozens of hours of labor. The entire seven-year curriculum of Potions textbooks contained an astonishing amount of text, but relying on the proficiency of the compulsory education he had yet to forget, he managed to transcribe them in their entirety, word for word. He even had time to spare to check for his own typos.

"Still got it!"

Ian shook his slightly sore arm, set down the quill that was nearly split at the tip, and looked up. The sun outside had not yet reached the horizon. It was still too early for the next round of entry into the Illusory Dreamscape.

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

The high-intensity effort not only allowed Ian to complete his goal ahead of schedule but also brought him good gains in skill improvement. He now possessed a solid foundation in potion theory. At the very least, he was better than most first or second-year students; his only weakness was perhaps a lack of practical experience, meaning he would likely be rusty if he were to start brewing potions immediately.

"I hope I can practice brewing potions in the Illusory Dreamscape as well."

Ian was filled with anticipation for this dream session, though he also felt some concern for his two friends who had gone out exploring—surely a soul that had already died couldn't die again, right?

"Crunch, crunch, crunch~"

The long period of intensive writing had made Ian hungry. He grabbed the remaining bread from yesterday and devoured it like he was munching on crackers. The taste was indescribable. The Great British Empire was a well-known culinary desert, and the Wizarding World was no exception to such harsh conditions. Fortunately, Ian was not too particular about his food. Young people had strong teeth; chewing on hard bricks was just a way to sharpen them.

"Counting the time, there should be four or five days left until Hogwarts begins."

With a bite of brick-like bread and a sip of non-radioactive mountain spring water, Ian sat outside his small wooden cabin, watching the castle looming in the distance. He felt that life was quite full of promise.

As the sun gradually dipped toward the west, the golden radiance became softer and deeper.

"Lumos!"

Since the Wand-Lighting Charm was also on the verge of leveling up, Ian did not waste the time before sleep. He lit his wand and began grinding for skill proficiency.

[Wand-Lighting Charm (Level 2): 3/200]

Compared to more specialized magic and the improvement in [Potions Mastery], the progress of white magic like the [Wand-Lighting Charm] was slightly slower. Of course, this was only when Ian compared himself to himself. With the transition in skill level, Ian could clearly feel a moment of enlightenment; his understanding of the [Wand-Lighting Charm] instantly deepened significantly.

"So that's how it works!"

Relying on his new understanding, Ian flicked his wand, the light which had already grown brighter began to shift in color. Red. Blue. Cyan. And a sinister shade of green... If he could master the technique of silent casting further, perhaps this basic [Wand-Lighting Charm] could be used to impersonate the [Killing Curse] to scare people?

Hmm. A good idea.

"But I already know the Killing Curse, so that effect is a bit redundant..." Ian controlled the flow of magic, attempting to create a light source that could at least briefly exist independently of the wand tip.

Unsurprisingly, he did not succeed. The moment the light source left the tip of his wand, even if the magic circuit within it was still running, it collapsed due to the lack of the wand's stability.

"Still not enough proficiency. Perhaps I could try to imprint this circuit onto an object similar to a wand; the stability issue should be improved."

Ian paused, stunned by his own thought. He felt this idea was strangely familiar. After pondering it, he suddenly realized—isn't this just the practice of Alchemy!

"How frustrating! I almost founded a new school of thought!!"

Ian realized he had missed a chance to end up on a Chocolate Frog card. He checked his books, unwilling to give up. As expected, no miracle occurred. The birth of alchemy had indeed followed a similar logic, and centuries ago, the Wizarding World had already invented alchemical devices capable of long-term illumination. To this day, the family that invented such devices still monopolized the market for lighting tools in the Wizarding World, much like how all the shampoo on the market came from the Potter family.

"Damnable patent monopoly!"

Compared to missing the chance to invent alchemy, the inability to cash in on a spark of inspiration after leveling up his skills was perhaps what hurt Ian the most. Mountains of gold Galleons, just out of his reach because he was born hundreds of years too late! Was there anything more aggravating for a poor person than that? No!

"If I can learn some lost potion recipes or magic from Teacher Mara, I must register a patent, then lie in my Gringotts vault and count money every day!"

Back in the room, before falling into a deep sleep hugging a pile of notebooks, Ian realized he was still a materialistic person. He didn't just love wealth; he didn't truly hate the monopoly of patents—he just hated that he wasn't the one holding the monopoly.

"...I really am so self-aware!"

When he opened his eyes again, the magnificent hall was no different from his last visit to the Illusory Dreamscape. The witch seemed to have been waiting for a long time. As cold and arrogant as ever, she sat on that unchanging bench, watching Ian—or rather, the large pile of notebooks he was clutching—with an indescribable, peculiar gaze.

"You didn't disappoint me." The witch's tone carried a hint of amazement.

"Ha, I really managed to bring them in." This was actually Ian's first time trying to bring so many items into the Illusory Dreamscape. Fortunately, everything went smoothly, and all the notebooks he held had entered the dreamscape with him.

"Teacher Mara, look how amazing I am!" Ian grinned and placed all the notebooks on the long table. This time, the tables and chairs in the hall did not run away, though some teacups opened their eyes and curiously inspected Ian.

"Yes, very amazing." The witch did not skimp on her praise. However, she clearly misunderstood what Ian wanted to show off; she thought he was boasting about his talent for bringing so many objects across the boundary of life and death, rather than his ability to transcribe so much text.

Therefore, "However, you are clearly capable of greater things, though you may not realize it yet." The witch offered Ian some cryptic advice.

"Huh?" Ian blinked, then reacted. "The greater things you speak of, what kind of things are they?" he asked curiously.

"That is something you need to discover yourself." The witch returned to being a riddle-master.

"If you could just tell me directly, I could treat it as my own discovery." Ian blinked his eyes.

"..."

The witch was silent for a moment, likely feeling a bit awkward under Ian's gaze. She sighed. "I have only glimpsed certain possibilities; I am not truly omniscient... How you proceed is your path. Only you are the one walking upon it."

The witch's low words left Ian deep in thought. He gazed at the books on the long table, and a bold idea gradually began to rise in his heart.