92: Penelope Clearwater

Even some dull moments were made interesting through his vivid descriptions.

Talent...!

Ivan sighed, glancing at Harry, who seemed intrigued by the book in his hand. "Want to take a look?"

"Oh, thank you," Harry replied, not refusing. He needed something to help him relax before the Quidditch match that afternoon.

However, as he started reading, Harry couldn't shake a strange feeling. It was an interesting story, but something about it seemed off.

"What's wrong?" Ivan asked. "Not enjoying it?"

"No," Harry frowned slightly. "I don't know what it is, but something about this book feels a little... weird."

"What do you mean by weird?"

"I can't quite explain it," Harry said, closing the book. "It just feels like it's describing someone else's experience, not the author's."

Much like how a police officer might have a heightened sense for criminals, Harry, with his natural talent as an Auror, had an instinctive nose for things that didn't add up.

"Hehe~ Good eye," Ivan said, impressed. "But it's probably best not to mention that everywhere."

"Why?"

"Because of who wrote the book," Ivan replied knowingly.

"Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"He has a large group of fans in the wizarding world."

Ivan stood up, patted Harry on the shoulder, and said with a smile, "If we don't want to get beaten up by crazy ladies, we'll have to keep the truth about him to ourselves for now."

"Huh?"

Harry didn't quite understand what Ivan meant.

What truth?

Is there something wrong with this Lockhart?

But despite his confusion, Ivan's lighthearted comment did the trick—Harry's mood noticeably lightened.

Looking at the treacle tart in front of him, Harry suddenly felt his appetite return. 'I'm in the mood to eat again—this is great!'

After leaving the Great Hall, Ivan decided to take a walk by the Black Lake.

On his way past the Gryffindor table, Ivan noticed Hermione whispering with Parvati, Lavender, and Padma.

The girls seemed to have their own little secrets, and when they saw Ivan approaching, they simply glanced up and returned to their quiet conversation.

Ivan didn't interrupt or call Hermione over.

He understood that the little witch needed her own space.

In fact, Ivan was quite pleased to see Hermione getting along so well with her friends.

Hmm?

As Ivan was walking, a figure appeared in front of him. It seemed the person had been waiting for him.

She was a very beautiful girl. Although she looked a little nervous upon seeing Ivan, she gathered her courage and greeted him, "Hi, Ambrosius."

The girl was Penelope Clearwater, a fifth-year student at Hogwarts and also the head girl of Ravenclaw.

"Senior Clearwater."

Ivan responded politely, then asked, "What can I do for you?"

"No, I just..."

Penelope hesitated before saying, "I wanted to talk to you, if that's alright?"

"Of course!"

Ivan had a very good impression of Penelope.

When the troll attacked, her magical talent was impressive, even in Ivan's opinion.

The two left the castle together, walking along the slope toward the Black Lake.

The early autumn breeze rustled the leaves on either side as Ivan and Penelope strolled side by side.

Penelope was a head taller than Ivan, and when they walked together, they looked more like siblings than anything else.

"You're really amazing, Ambrosius."

"Just call me Ivan, senior."

"Okay, Ivan."

Penelope smiled and said, "I've never seen a young wizard as talented as you. When I was your age, I had just mastered the knowledge in the textbooks."

"Ah?"

Ivan felt that Penelope was being a bit humble in a boastful way: "Actually, it's already impressive to have mastered the first-year textbooks right after starting school."

"Everyone says that."

"But I feel," Penelope continued, "that I've fallen behind..."

"Fallen behind?"

"I heard that you come from the Muggle world, Ivan?"

"Well..." Ivan replied, "To be precise, I'm an orphan, so yes, it's accurate to say I come from a Muggle background."

"Sorry."

Penelope hadn't expected Ivan to be an orphan, and she felt a bit embarrassed. Her initial admiration for his extraordinary talent was now accompanied by a deeper respect.

To have been born in an orphanage and yet be so gifted—and so humble—only increased Penelope's admiration for him.

"It's alright. That's all in the past."

Ivan placed his hands behind his back, slowing his pace. He glanced at Penelope and smiled, "We have to look forward, don't we?"

"You're right."

Penelope brushed the stray hair from her face and gave a charming smile.

Her voice was pleasant, and she gave Ivan a gentle, comforting feeling, like a soft spring breeze.

Ivan had to admit that someone like Penelope made him feel at ease.

Of course, it wasn't in that way.

Ivan was simply happy to find a peer with whom he could communicate more freely.

Hermione was undoubtedly smart and mature beyond her years, but she was still just a young girl—not even a proper teenager yet.

Many times, Ivan felt like a brother taking care of her.

But now, with Penelope, Ivan could speak more openly.

"Is your last name, Ambrosius, really like what they say?"

Penelope continued, "I mean, is it true that your ancestor was 'that' Ambrosius?"

After spending time with Ivan, Penelope's fondness for him had grown. He didn't have the arrogance or conceit of some extremely talented students from other houses.

The more she got to know Ivan, the more she could sense the kindness radiating from him.

Gradually, the two of them became much closer.

Now, Penelope felt comfortable asking Ivan about his family and lineage without hesitation.

"Ambrosius."

Ivan nodded and said, "If you're referring to the great wizard from British legend, yes, I did inherit his bloodline magic."

"Want to see it?"

Ivan had always been open with his friends.

It wasn't in his nature to hide things.

"What?"

Penelope was a bit confused. She didn't know about the two great abilities Ivan had inherited from Merlin.

"Merlin was a famous prophet in history. He made many prophecies."

"You mean..."

Hearing this, Penelope exclaimed, "You're a prophet?"

"Sort of~"

Ivan shrugged. "I know a bit about prophecy."

"Want to try?"

"You're offering to make a prophecy for me?"

Penelope was intrigued and felt honored at the same time, knowing this would be a prophecy from a descendant of Merlin.

She didn't doubt the truth of Ivan's words for a second.

This wasn't a young wizard who liked to show off. Ivan had no interest in doing such things.

Penelope could sense that much, even from their brief conversation.

"Can I choose the direction of the prophecy?" she asked.

"Of course!" Ivan replied, curious about Penelope's future as well.

Hogwarts was a hub of talent, and there was no better place for Ivan to find like-minded people to recruit.

Penelope was an exceptionally gifted witch, even by Hogwarts' high standards.

In terms of raw talent, she was certainly not inferior to Hermione—she might even surpass her in some areas.

The difference lay in their ambitions.

Hermione had a strong drive, a clear ambition to prove herself.

In contrast, Penelope seemed more like the kind of person who would quietly support and stand behind someone she believed in, a more nurturing presence.

She needed a goal and someone to help guide her path.

And once she had that, Penelope could achieve great things—perfectly and efficiently.

________

A/N: Here is today's chapter!

I was sick and had decided to just rest today... But fuck it! Nothing can stop me!!