The Old Ones of Hogwarts

Chapter 522, Section 531: The Eternal Gamble

Refusal certainly won't stop Ian.

After all.

Compared to the older version of Dumbledore, the current Ian is the most powerful user of Legilimency, and he truly deserves the title of the White Lord as described by many conspiracy theorists.

In such a situation.

How could the refusal of an ordinary Ravenclaw graduate possibly stop Ian from casting a spell?

It's no exaggeration to say that...

Even Grindelwald probably wouldn't be able to detect Ian's Legilimency right now.

He is that powerful.

Therefore, whether Jorkins refuses or not is meaningless. However, if the other party is sensible, it would be very good for Ian. He is also willing to give the other party some face.

"Very good, Mr. Jorkins."

Ian nodded, the aloofness in his tone seeming to lessen slightly. "However, we don't need to do it here. Standing in the middle of the street isn't very elegant."

He looked around. Although the Muggles had "forgotten" everything and returned to normal activities, the sight of two men standing in the middle of the street would still attract attention.

To know.

This is the UK.

Ian didn't want any rumors to get into his ears, break his defenses, and cause him to seamlessly switch from the White Demon King to the Black Magician and start his punitive activities.

"Let's go find a more comfortable place." Ian's tone became slightly... casual, even carrying a hint of the complaining tone of a "young person".

"I just dealt with a small problem, and now I'm a bit hungry. Let's find a place to eat and talk." He was indeed at an age where he was growing and often felt hungry.

"Ah? Oh! Okay, okay! Where do you want to go, sir?" Jorgins quickly replied, but he was a little confused. This unfathomable figure, who had just been exuding a suffocating aura, suddenly mentioned being "hungry"? And wanted to eat while talking? This turn of events caught him off guard. But more than that, he felt a flattered yet apprehensive feeling—the other party seemed... not to intend to interrogate or pursue the matter harshly immediately? What was going on?

"Come with me."

Ian didn't say much. He turned around and walked naturally in the opposite direction from the Royal Catherine Hotel. His pace was slow, as if he were just an ordinary young man who was hungry and looking for a restaurant.

Jorgins scrambled to his feet. Although the street had been restored, the psychological trauma from his fall lingered. He dusted off his robes, picked up his dropped wand, and jogged to catch up with Ian, his heart pounding with anxiety, wondering what the man was up to. Various guesses swirled in his mind.

The strength and weakness of Ravenclaw students are both their intelligence.

Their intelligence made them learned.

It also makes them like to fill in the blanks with their imagination.

of course.

The junior wizard could understand this, so he didn't care and simply ignored it.

"Let me think about what to eat."

Instead of choosing upscale or formal restaurants, Ian led Jorgins through several relatively lively streets with a more vibrant atmosphere.

Finally, he stopped in front of a family-run restaurant that looked quite old, small but bright and clean. A chalk sign in the window read "Today's Specials: Shepherd's Pie, Fish and Chips, Beef Kidney Pie," and through the glass, he could see several tables of customers dining inside, the atmosphere relaxed.

"This is fine." Ian pushed open the glass door with the bell hanging on it.

"Ding-a-ling~"

The warm air, carrying the aromas of baked pies, fried fish, and stews, wafted in, dispelling the chill outside. The restaurant's interior appeared more spacious than the exterior, with gleaming wooden tables and chairs covered in red and white checkered tablecloths.

The walls are adorned with old black-and-white photographs and landscape paintings of London, creating a charming atmosphere. It was lunchtime, and the place was bustling with customers, mostly local workers, shop assistants, and elderly people, dressed simply, chatting and laughing loudly. The clinking of cutlery and the sounds of conversation blended together, brimming with the vibrant energy of everyday life. Seeing new customers enter, a middle-aged proprietress in an apron, with a cheerful smile, greeted them: "Two people? There's an empty table inside, this way please."

She led Ian and Jorkins to a small two-person table against the wall. Jorkins sat down somewhat awkwardly; his dark green robe stood out conspicuously among the customers dressed in work clothes or ordinary coats, attracting several curious but not malicious glances. He instinctively shrank his neck, trying to pull the robe tighter around himself.

Ian, however, seemed oblivious, casually picking up the simple menu (a laminated sheet of paper) from the table and glancing at it. "Mr. Jorkins, what would you like to eat? It's on me," he asked without looking up.

"Ah? I, I'm fine with anything... You decide, sir," Jorgins said hastily, as he had no appetite at the moment.

"Then let's have two of today's specials, one shepherd's pie and one fish and chips, plus two cups of black tea," Ian said to the proprietress, his tone as familiar as that of a regular customer.

"Okay! Just a moment!" The proprietress noted it down, smiled, and turned to go to the kitchen.

"What exactly is he thinking?"

While waiting for the food, Jorgins fidgeted, stealing glances at Ian across from him. This mysterious figure had suppressed all magical fluctuations, appearing as a handsome, slightly precocious young man with a calm demeanor, observing the restaurant's furnishings and patrons with keen interest. His gaze swept over the old photographs on the wall, past a table of workers loudly arguing about the football match result, and then towards the bustling crowds on the street outside the window.

His gaze was calm, even carrying a hint of...appreciation?

Upon seeing this situation...

Jorgins grew increasingly perplexed. How could such a powerful wizard be so interested in Muggle restaurants, Muggle conversations, and Muggle daily life? And even seem to enjoy it?

This truly baffled the native wizard. In his understanding, most wizards, even those like him who worked at the Ministry of Magic, were theoretically required to uphold the International Secrecy Act, and maintained a facade of friendliness towards Muggles, were deep down alienated from, disdainful of, and even somewhat impatient with the Muggle world.

Wizards are all very arrogant.

It is common knowledge.

Wizards view Muggles as a kind of slightly more intelligent but essentially "unable to use magic" alternative beings, whose creations and culture are mostly categorized as "crude," "noisy," and "lacking in magical convenience."

Therefore, a wizard who sits so calmly in a Muggle restaurant, observing Muggle life with such interest... Jorkins had never seen or heard of such a wizard.

Not to mention such a powerful wizard.

Even ordinary wizards wouldn't do that.

Could this sir be one of those rare scholar-wizards who truly understands Muggle culture? Yet his power is so terrifying! He doesn't seem like someone who spends all his time in his study or Muggle research association.

Just as Jorgins was lost in thought, the proprietress came over with two steaming platters. "Please enjoy your meal. The tea will be right up."

It does smell really good.

The shepherd's pie is served in an oval baking dish, topped with golden-brown mashed potatoes and filled with a rich lamb and vegetable stew. The fish and chips are served in traditional parchment paper with a newspaper-like texture, golden and crispy, accompanied by pea puree and lemon wedges. The portions are generous and the aroma is irresistible.

"Eat it while it's hot." Ian picked up his knife and fork and naturally began to cut his shepherd's pie. His movements were elegant, without the slightest air of someone who was a "powerful wizard."

He seemed like just an ordinary diner.

Jorgins swallowed hard, his stomach rumbling with hunger as he looked at the fragrant food before him—after all, he had just gone through a life-or-death chase and was exhausted.

He hesitated for a moment, then picked up a knife and fork, imitating Ian's manner of eating. The mashed potatoes were smooth and creamy, the lamb stewed until tender and flavorful, and the sauce rich and creamy. The fried fish was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and the fries were thick and substantial. The taste wasn't particularly amazing, but it was certainly hearty, warm, and comforting food. "It actually tastes pretty good?"

This was the first time Jorgins had ever eaten food cooked by Muggles.

The two ate quietly. Ian ate attentively, but slowly, occasionally pausing to sip the freshly served black tea and continue observing the view out the window. Jorgins, on the other hand, ate without tasting, mechanically putting food into his mouth while his mind raced, trying to decipher his master's intentions. The food was quite delicious.

But nothing is more important than my life.

He stared at Ian, and halfway through his meal, Ian suddenly spoke, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather: "Mr. Jorkins, what do you think of this restaurant?"

His sudden question was somewhat puzzling.

"Huh?" Jorgins was taken aback, quickly put down his fork, and gave his answer, "It's very, very good. The food is very generous, and the proprietress is very welcoming."

Johansson dared not lie.

Because he knew.

Skilled wizards all have methods to detect lies.

“It’s not just about the food,” Ian said, gesturing with his fork to the crowds outside the window. “Look outside, these people, their lives, their city. What do you think?”

He looked down at the typical wizard in front of him.

Upon hearing this, Jorgins was even more bewildered, carefully considering his words.

"Uh...very...busy? Very...ordinary? That's how Muggles are, struggling to make a living every day, inventing all sorts of machines to make themselves busier, creating noise and pollution..."

He was actually expressing the common view that many wizards privately hold about Muggle society.

"Your thinking is indeed the most common wizarding thinking these days." Ian glanced at him, and that look made Joggins feel like he had said something wrong.

"Unfortunately, this kind of thinking is wrong; it's poison that hinders the development of wizards. Ordinary?" Ian repeated the word, shaking his head slightly. "Mr. Jorkins, what do you think 'ordinary' means? Is it having no magic? Is it having a short lifespan? Is it being unable to see invisible beasts or ride flying brooms?" He felt that since he had already intervened in history...

The damage has already been done.

I have to speak out about things that are deeply ingrained in our society.

Johansson was speechless.

"Believe me, wizards just have a little more magic, not that they're nobler or more advanced." Ian put the last piece of pie in his mouth, chewed slowly, swallowed, then picked up his tea, took a sip, and turned his gaze back to the window. His voice was calm, yet carried a strange, penetrating power. "Look at that young mother pushing the stroller; the smile on her face is because of her child's small gesture. Look at that old man standing on the street corner waiting for the bus; the newspaper he's clutching has news about the horse races he cares about. Look at the goods displayed in those shop windows, from food to clothes to books; each item embodies the wisdom, labor, and hopes for life of countless people."

"Look at this entire city, its buildings, its roads, its public transportation, its water and electricity supply systems... none of this came out of thin air. It was built and perfected little by little by countless generations of Muggles using their hands, minds, and collaboration," Ian said softly.

He paused, then turned to Jorkins, his eyes clear and deep: "They have no magic, but they have creativity, organization, an indomitable will to survive, and the most basic pursuit of a good life."

"They understand and transform this world in different ways. Wizards use wands and spells to achieve their goals, while they use tools, machines, science, and systems. The methods differ, but essentially, they are all intelligent life exploring and shaping their environment," Ian said eloquently, speaking from his own heart.

"Huh?!" Jorkins listened blankly, these words were somewhat unfamiliar to him, even... somewhat shocking. He had never thought about Muggles from this perspective before.

"You think they're noisy, you think their machines are crude," Ian continued, his tone still calm, without accusation, just stating facts. "Perhaps it's because you don't understand the challenges they faced and the achievements they made. Imagine, without magic, how much would it take for you to build a city that could house millions of people, ensuring food and water, transportation and security, disease control...? And they did it."

"Your magic can't do it, and neither can most wizards' magic."

"The existence of the International Law on Secrecy has its historical reasons and necessity, in order to protect both parties. But protection does not mean isolation, much less contempt or disdain."

Ian's voice became more serious. "Wizards are no more noble than Muggles, Mr. Jorgins. We are just... different. We possess a talent that most of them don't have, but this talent should give us more responsibility and a broader perspective, not a strange sense of superiority."

He watched the changing expressions on Joggins' face and slowly said, "A truly powerful wizard doesn't possess power itself, but rather the heart that controls that power. A heart that can understand differences, respect life, and see the true nature of things. Indulging in the illusory sense of superiority that power brings is precisely the mentality of a weakling." If it weren't for Ian's previous behavior...

Perhaps Ian's words would make Joggins scoff.

however.

Ian had already proven himself to be a powerful figure, the pinnacle of wizardry. His status brought him power, and his words were absolute law.

"Been taught a lesson!"

These words struck Jorkins like a resounding bell.

He felt his face flush. Yes, he usually worked at the Ministry of Magic, talking about protecting Muggle rights and coordinating with the Muggle Prime Minister's office according to regulations, but that was more of a "task assigned from above," a "compassionate protection for those lacking magic." Deep down, didn't he also think wizards were smarter, more elegant, and closer to the "truth" of the world? Didn't he also think the Muggle world was noisy, crude, and full of unnecessary complexity?

The young wizard before him, who possessed power beyond his wildest imagination, held such a peaceful, even appreciative and understanding, attitude toward the Muggle world.

This gap in magnanimity and understanding made Jorkins feel extremely ashamed.