"Hey, do you know where Gryffindor's treasure vault is?" He suddenly realized that both characters were Gryffindor portraits, and perhaps he could get the information he wanted from the elderly version of the Gryffindor portrait—after all, Ian's goal was treasure, and it didn't matter who told him where the vault was.
He wasn't necessarily determined to find that younger version of the portrait.
He truly didn't hold a grudge.
Once he graduates and returns to Hogwarts for a job, Ian will have plenty of time to play hide and seek with that portrait. He looked expectantly at the elderly version of the Gryffindor portrait.
However.
"Gryffindor's treasure vault?"
The elderly Gryffindor portrait appeared somewhat startled.
His brows furrowed even more tightly.
He looked particularly puzzled and confused.
"Child, I don't know what you're talking about. Gryffindor's treasure is not in material wealth, but in the adventures he went through and the wisdom he gained."
"This is Gryffindor's greatest treasure left behind." Clearly, this elderly Gryffindor portrait didn't know about the Gryffindor treasure vault Ian wanted to find.
He even took the opportunity to pour some motivational speech on Ian, or perhaps it could be called duck soup? After all, Ian is a wizard, and using duck soup seems more suitable for his gender.
"You're right, alright."
Ian had no intention to argue further, casually responding, his expression appeared somewhat disappointed—perhaps that younger version of Gryffindor's portrait wasn't boasting after all.
He might truly be the most unique among Gryffindor portraits. Not only in terms of knowing secrets, but also the liveliness of that portrait gives it a more lifelike feeling than this elderly version. To know that this kind of feeling does indeed demonstrate the effort put into its creation to some extent.
The Gryffindor portrait on this side of the corridor feels a bit too "AI," starting the motivational mode unpredictably, probably wouldn't even pass a Turing test.
"Perhaps you should hurry, don't let them get eaten by dangerous creatures in the Forbidden Forest." Sure enough, the elderly Gryffindor urged with some concern, validating this point.
He might have a problem with perceiving time.
"Right away, right away, they're not as fast as me, how could they reach the Forbidden Forest in a few minutes... even using a flying broom couldn't be that fast."
"The brooms we have at the college are antiques, plus I don't think Ron, Hermione, and Neville can handle them. These are not things one can proficiently use after just a few classes."
Ian muttered a response, made an OK gesture to the elderly Gryffindor portrait, then his form suddenly transformed into a drifting white mist.
This was clearly flying magic created by Ian imitating the Black Demon King and his own uncle's flying methods, it's quite handy, though he chose the less stereotypical color white for himself.
"Whew~"
The little wizard dashed out the corridor window like morning mist blown away by a gale. The cold night wind mixed with drizzle soaked the castle's exterior walls, and moonlight cast a silvery glow on the edges of the rain curtain.
"Hmm?"
Just as Ian flew out of the castle, he was a bit baffled. He assumed the three probably hadn't even reached the small bridge yet, but he couldn't see or sense a trace of the three.
"Damn it!"
The low mutter of Ian came out from the white mist.
Outside the empty campus, where were the three little lions' figures? On the road from the castle to the Forbidden Forest, not even a footprint, as if those three first-years vanished into thin air.
Suddenly.
The white mist, which was Ian, swirled in the air, condensed into Ian's face filled with bewilderment and uncertainty.
"Could it be these three guys discovered a secret passage I'm unfamiliar with right after enrolling?" Ian was somewhat startled, uncertain if it was fair to say Gryffindor College students have a knack for this.
He mused in mid-air.
The mist surged again, shooting like an arrow towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The sturdy trunks of oak cast menacing shadows under the moonlight, the entrance to the Forbidden Forest filled with the scent of damp rotting leaves. Ian stood at this entrance, calculating the trio's journey and time to the Forbidden Forest, deciding to wait at the entrance.
At first, he took out his latest creation, the Gatling.
"No, that's too severe, we're not in the Middle Ages."
Thinking about it.
Felt it wasn't appropriate.
Ian put the Gatling back into his money bag, then pulled out a seemingly intimidating forty-meter long saber, feeling it would definitely scare the Gryffindor students out of their wits.
"I need to add some effects."
Ian made the forty-meter long saber light up with a cheesy special effect like in a 999-level game, he felt it was intimidating enough, yet as time ticked by, Ian had munched through three bags of chips, still hadn't seen the trio, nothing but the howling wind and occasional low moans from unknown creatures at the Forbidden Forest entrance.
Nothing else happened.
"This isn't right, at the normal pace of first-year students, they should've arrived at this spot already, could it be they didn't come here?" Ian's doubts grew more intense. Even a cripple could've made it. The mist rose for the third time, drifting directly towards Hagrid's cabin.
Ian guessed if the trio might have gone to seek help from this big friend.