Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 415, Section 414: The Mysterious Old Man

Ian watched the enforcement team's departing figures, lost in thought. The security here seemed quite strict and efficient. This made him more cautious about his plan to "visit" the Ministry of Magic that evening. After all, judging from the quality of these enforcers, the African Ministry of Magic's strength was probably not to be underestimated.

Of course, these people weren't particularly strong in Ian's eyes, but he still needed to be cautious enough—after all, a true master always maintains the mindset of an apprentice.

Ian now adorably uses this phrase to promote himself.

It serves as a warning.

It is perhaps a kind of Versailles.

After the enforcers quickly escorted the two troublemaking, inept wizards away, the market, like a lake tossed with a pebble, soon calmed down and returned to its previous bustling activity. The crowd dispersed, murmuring amongst themselves, many wearing expressions of schadenfreude or indifference.

Such things are obviously not uncommon in ordinary times.

“Makuru and Cafor are in for a world of hurt this time. They won’t get out alive without being skinned alive,” a wizard in a snakeskin cloak whispered to his companion, a smug glint in his eyes. “Those guys at the Ministry of Magic love ‘interrogation taxes’ the most—you won’t get out alive without paying a hefty sum.”

"More than just gold coins?" another person sneered. "I heard that someone caused trouble last month and had 30% of his lifespan taken away, turning him into a walking corpse. He's still sweeping the floor at the 'Silent Tower' now."

"Serves you right, you messed with 'Red-Eyed' Baruka and thought you could get away unscathed?"

"That's right, doesn't Baruka himself smuggle rocket launchers? And isn't he doing quite well in the Ministry of Magic?"

“Anyway, I think the fine should be at least this much!” A wizard held up five fingers and waved them.

"I think it's more than that. I heard that the newly appointed law enforcement captain is very stubborn and has a very powerful background. They both ran into trouble."

"Hmph, can he really be tougher than Minister Ghani's brother-in-law? As long as the money's there, it's nothing..."

Shh! Keep your voice down, don't cause trouble!

Listening to the surrounding discussions, Ian understood.

It seems that the corruption within the African Ministry of Magic is indeed widespread, just as Babua implied and anticipated. Enforcers are not there to maintain order, but to "collect taxes"; interrogations are not to uncover the truth, but to extract profits; the so-called "law" is nothing more than a tool used by the powerful to exploit the weak.

This practice, where those at the top set an example for those below, is likely to permeate the ranks of law enforcement officers and high-ranking officials alike. This also explains why Babua, an intelligence broker, could confidently obtain access keys to the Ministry of Magic's inner workings—if the price is right, there's probably nothing the officials there wouldn't dare sell.

“No wonder…” Ian shook his head slightly, but it didn’t concern him much. His goal was to find Newt and leave safely, and he didn’t want to get involved in the local political intrigue.

Ian's lips curled slightly, but there was no trace of anger or indignation. He had long since seen through the true nature of this world.

The magical world has never been a "noble ivory tower," but rather a jungle society draped in robes. Europe has Death Eaters, Africa has warlord wizards—the essence is no different.

"It has nothing to do with me," he muttered to himself, then turned and continued strolling around.

He wandered around casually for a while.

He walked past a "soul pawnshop" and saw someone exchanging fragments of memory for gold coins; he passed by a "spell auction house" and heard the host hawking "black magic that can keep people awake for three days"; and even at the entrance of a "voodoo doll customization shop," he saw a couple laughing as they selected a curse package that would "bring bad luck to their love rival."

The magic of this land is raw and real, without any concealment. Ian wasn't particularly interested in it; he simply bought a few more magical trinkets that looked rather exotic.

He planned to take it back to the Weasley brothers as research material. Seeing that the hands of his pocket watch were approaching two in the afternoon, he turned and headed towards the "Secret Broth" restaurant.

From afar, he saw the waiter who had accepted the gold coins standing at the restaurant entrance, craning his neck and looking around anxiously with anticipation on his face.

Upon seeing Ian, the waiter immediately rushed over with a beaming smile, as if he had seen a savior.

"Honorable sir! You've finally arrived! Everything was ready, just waiting for you!" The waiter rubbed his hands together, his tone extremely attentive.

“Okay, lead the way.” Ian nodded.

The waiter quickly led the way, guiding Ian through the bustling main street and turning into several increasingly secluded alleyways. Finally, they stopped in front of a seemingly unremarkable, even somewhat dilapidated, shop. There was no sign at the entrance, and the windows were boarded up, as if it had been abandoned for a long time.

"Sir, please follow me." The waiter pushed open the half-closed wooden door, revealing a small, empty, dusty room. Unexpectedly, a bright green flame was burning in the fireplace.

The waiter pulled a handful of glittering powder from his pocket and said to Ian, "Sir, please stand in front of the fireplace. This is Floo Powder."

Ian was somewhat surprised; he hadn't expected to need a Floo Net to see his boss. He stood in front of the fireplace as instructed, and the waiter sprinkled Floo Powder into the flames, which instantly leaped up and turned a shimmering green.

"Please state your destination clearly: 'Tranquil Hill, Oak House'," the waiter reminded him.

"A tranquil hill, a home of oak trees."

Ian repeated it clearly.

"call--!"

A bright green flame suddenly shot up, almost filling the entire fireplace.

Ian wasn't surprised. After all, he came from Hogwarts and was very familiar with Floo Powder, so he could tell that the Floo Powder's guidance was correct. He stepped into the flames. Instantly, the world spun, and the wind whistled in his ears. After a familiar spinning and squeezing sensation, he found himself standing in a fireplace with a completely different style.

He stepped out of the fireplace and found himself in a spacious, tidy living room. The room was decorated with a distinctly African style, but also incorporated some comfortable European elements.

Through the window, one could see a beautiful, tree-lined village with houses of varying styles scattered about, clearly a paradise on earth. The waiter followed closely behind, emerging from the fireplace and respectfully addressing Ian.

"Sir, please follow me. The boss's house is not far ahead."

They walked out of the room.

The houses appeared to be access points for the village's public Floo network. Scattered among the charming wooden cabins were roofs covered in waterproof palm leaves, and flowers grew in front of the doors. Several wizards sat leisurely in wicker chairs, sipping tea, while children chased a fire-breathing lizard across the grass.

Here, in stark contrast to the chaos and ruggedness of the marketplace, it resembles a magical utopia. Therefore, it is inhabited by wealthy and influential high-ranking wizards from the African magical world. Unwilling to be drawn into the marketplace's conflicts, they choose to live in seclusion in this village protected by a powerful barrier.

I walked along the clean stone path for a few minutes.

The two arrived at a small courtyard enclosed by a low fence. The house inside didn't look particularly luxurious; the gate was low and woven from vines, appearing ordinary but well-maintained and full of life. Standing outside, the waiter stepped forward and knocked on the gate.

Soon after, a hoarse but strong voice came from inside: "Come in, the door isn't locked." Upon hearing this, Ian immediately understood that the waiter must have already contacted the owner in some way after he left the restaurant, and the owner was already waiting.

The waiter gestured for Ian to go in, but didn't intend to go in himself. He said in a low voice, "Sir, please go in by yourself. The boss is waiting for you inside. I'll go back to the store first."

After saying that, he bowed and left.

Without hesitation, Ian pushed open the courtyard gate and went inside.

However, the moment he stepped into the courtyard, the surrounding scenery underwent a dramatic transformation! What appeared to be just an ordinary farmhouse courtyard from the outside suddenly expanded dozens of times in size! Before his eyes lay a vast and vibrant pastoral landscape!

Neatly arranged furrows were planted with various crops, some familiar and some unfamiliar to Ian, and in the distance, there was even a small orchard and a babbling brook! The sun shone brightly, the air was fresh, and it felt like being in a secluded paradise. Clearly, this seemingly ordinary house had been blessed with an extremely powerful Unfathomable Stretching Charm.

The interior space has been expanded into a fully functional mini-manor. There are singing sunflowers, automatically watering vines, and dwarf trees bearing glowing fruit.

Ian's gaze swept over the crops, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes. These weren't just ornamental plants; the crops themselves weren't ordinary grains.

Each kernel of corn in the field contains a faint magical fluctuation; tiny "earth vein runes" are wrapped around the roots of the cassava; and the blue grain is the legendary "Moonlight Wheat," which grows only during the full moon and can enhance night vision and dream perception when consumed. Many areas seem to be divided into four distinct seasons of temperature.

“What a novel way to use it…” Ian couldn’t help but exclaim in admiration. To apply the Unseen Stretch Charm on such a large scale and so perfectly integrated with the environment on a dwelling requires extremely high magical skill and a profound understanding of the laws of space. This is much more difficult than simply expanding space in a tent.

"Hehe, just a little trick, I hope the guests won't laugh at me." An old voice came from the nearby field.

Ian looked in the direction of the sound and saw an elderly African man, dressed in simple linen clothes, with gray hair and dark skin but a vigorous spirit, standing barefoot in the mud with his trousers rolled up, holding a small hoe in his hand. Beside him was a house-elf wearing a neat pillowcase, with large, wary eyes.

Seeing Ian's gaze, the old man smiled and explained, "When you get old, you don't have many other hobbies. You just like to tend to the land and grow some grains and vegetables. Perhaps it's because I experienced famine when I was a child and went hungry with everyone else, that I have a special obsession with food. Opening that restaurant is also a way of fulfilling a wish of mine, so that more people can eat... well, unique delicacies."

He spoke frankly.

It carries a sense of peace that comes from having experienced many hardships.

I don't know what he went through to want to share those early Soviet goods with everyone—perhaps for this old man, the most delicious thing back then was the goods that were resold from the Soviet Union?
This is also possible.

After all, in the early days of the Soviet Union, in order to increase its influence, it provided economic support to many other places, including Africa, which was threatened by famine.

Ian was filled with speculation.

Just then, the house-elf suddenly stepped in front of the old man and shouted nervously to Ian in a high-pitched voice.

“Powerful wizard! You are not allowed to harm my master! Dobby… no, Kofi must protect my master!” Its big eyes were filled with determination.

Despite her body trembling slightly with fear.

The old man smiled helplessly and said to the house-elf in a gentle but firm tone, "Kofi, you mustn't be rude. You must be polite to guests. And..."

He raised his head, looked intently at Ian, and slowly said, "Before you may be the last legendary wizard in this degenerate age."

"We should remain in awe."

He spoke slowly, his voice deep yet carrying an undeniable authority.

These words struck Ian like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, leaving him frozen in place, his mind reeling with shock! The other party had actually discerned his true strength and level in a single sentence?!
How could this be?! He was confident that he had concealed his abilities very well, and unless someone of the same level or with special detection methods was present, it would be extremely difficult for them to discern his true strength!
And obviously.

The other party is not a legend.

Ian was certain of that.

After all, the magical fluctuations emanating from the other party were very clear, and it didn't seem like they had used any means of concealment. At most, they were just a decent elite old wizard.

Each of the Hogwarts Headmasters could take on ten wizards like that. For wizards of that caliber, the probability of seeing Ian as a legendary wizard is close to zero.

This is a matter of perspective.

This is even more true than the language barrier with the Black guys.

Whether a tank has rearview mirrors or not is uncertain, but a wizard of this caliber would definitely not be able to recognize a legendary rank, especially with Ian in disguise.

"???"

Seeing the undisguised astonishment on Ian's face, the old man revealed a knowing look. He waved his hand, signaling Kofi to step back, and then explained to Ian.

"Please don't be surprised, Mr. Ian Prince... or should I call you Master Prince? I mean no harm, but after you came to my little shop today and showed great interest in the cauldrons in the kitchen, I inquired about you with my old friend Caleb. Caleb speaks highly of you, and the information he revealed has led me to make this bold guess... Please forgive Caleb's intrusion and my presumptuous speculation."

He speaks with perfect tact.

He was fairly honest.

"I see!"

Ian suddenly realized. It was Master Caleb! After witnessing his alchemical prowess and unfathomable strength, the inscription master must have shared his observations with his old friend who ran the restaurant. With the old man's knowledge and wisdom, it wasn't entirely impossible for him to deduce that while his legendary status was astonishing.

Ian's wariness lessened slightly. He waved his hand, his tone returning to calm: "I see. You flatter me. It was not an offense at all. Master Caleb is a respectable scholar, and I enjoyed my conversation with him. I just never expected to meet such a discerning elder as you in this faraway Africa."

Seeing that Ian was not angry, the old man smiled with relief: "It's good that Master Prince doesn't mind. I am Musa, an old man from the countryside with no special skills, just someone who has lived a long time and seen a lot of people and things. It's sunny outside, why don't we come inside for a cup of tea and chat? I think your interest in my crucibles is probably not just about tasting the broth, is it?"

Musa's smile held an all-knowing wisdom.

They had clearly already guessed Ian's purpose.

“Yes.” Ian nodded, his anticipation for the meeting growing stronger. This seemingly ordinary restaurant owner was probably far more mysterious and powerful than he had imagined.

He did not refuse to meet Ian.

The old man smiled, a smile as bright as the sunshine after a rainforest has cleared.

(End of this chapter)