Yes, very practical indeed. Although everyone had sealed the doors and windows overnight and stuffed the Weasley twins' wickedly ingenious Portable Hearth into their blankets, that little contraption only provided a bit of warmth.
It did nothing to stop the chill from creeping into their fingers and toes the moment they crawled out of bed.
"I reckon Madam Hooch is just afraid we'll get struck by lightning. That'd be a right nasty way to go," William remarked, entirely unbothered by the cold as he strolled out of the dormitory, his face unusually warm and rosy.
Of course, that wasn't surprising.
After all, William was the only person in Hogwarts who had access to Ian's unsold self-warming undergarments, a failed product that now served as his personal enchanted electric blanket.
The glow on his face? Well, that was because he'd taken to wearing one on his head while sleeping. It kept him toasty and, in his words, prevented drool stains when he slept on his side.
"We just need to fly faster than the lightning, and then it'll be fine!"
The Chocolate Frog boy, so named because of his unnatural ability to consume absurd amounts of sweets, was tearing into a massive strip of bacon. At this point, Ian had lost count of how many dozens of Chocolate Frog cards the boy had handed over to him.
Merlin only knew how many boxes he still had stashed in his trunk.
"You really are an idiot," Michael muttered, swallowing a mouthful of toast with a critical shake of his head. "How exactly do you expect a wizard to fly faster than lightning? Haven't you ever been asked about the speed of lightning by the bronze door knocker? The fastest broom in existence couldn't hope to reach that speed."
"If you ask me, if we're going to fly in a storm, we should just attach one of those Muggle 'lightning rods' to our brooms," Michael suggested confidently, as though he'd solved the problem entirely.
Ian, who had been deep in thought over the Resurrection Stone, glanced up in disbelief.
For a moment, he simply stared at this true menace to Hogwarts' safety, watching in horror as even some of the pure-blood students nodded along to the suggestion.
"I'm fairly sure that's not how lightning rods work..."
Thankfully, a Muggle-born student had the good sense to step in and gently correct Michael before Ian had to intervene.
With a sigh, Ian turned back to tidy up the books he'd borrowed from the common room the night before. Unfortunately, none of them had provided much insight into the alchemical properties of Slytherin's Locket. Unlike Hufflepuffs, who shared their knowledge freely, or Ravenclaws, who delighted in teaching others, Ian found that Slytherin's creations were deliberately cryptic, complex for the sake of complexity.
"Wait, so lightning rods don't stop you from being hit by lightning?" Michael frowned, clearly puzzled.
This was, of course, a very common issue among wizarding families that avoided the Muggle world entirely.
If it weren't for the bronze door knocker occasionally throwing in questions about physics and mathematics, half of them wouldn't even know that lightning could travel at hundreds of thousands of meters per second.
"Obviously!" The Muggle-born student scoffed. "My dad's an architect; he only installs lightning rods on top of buildings, never on people."
Then, after a moment's thought,
"Although… if we followed my dad's logic, we could attach one to our broomsticks."
And with that, he pulled out a bit of parchment and actually began sketching out blueprints.
"See? Right here, behind the seat, this would be the perfect place for a lightning rod."
For someone barely a first year, his drawings were impressively detailed. He had clearly inherited his father's talent. However, before Ian could intervene, another figure leaned over the table, peering curiously at the sketch.
"Why not just avoid flying in storms altogether?" Cho Chang asked, frowning. "Surely that's the most practical solution. Wizards can Apparate, after all; it's not like we need to be flying in the rain."
It was a perfectly reasonable point.
But the moment the words left her lips, she was met with a chorus of firm, resolute head shakes.
"You don't understand," One of the boys declared solemnly. "It's not about necessity… it's about belief."
Cho Chang blinked. 'Belief?'
With something dangerously close to religious fervor, the boys continued their passionate discussion on broom modifications. Their enthusiasm was almost concerning.
And Cho wasn't the only one who found it baffling; the other girls at the table exchanged glances, equally bewildered.
"I've invented a lightning-catching ball," A voice declared suddenly. "If lightning strikes, we can just throw it out to absorb the energy."
Ian sighed deeply.
The speaker was none other than the Sixth-Year Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, a well-known tinkerer whose obsession with enchanted sports equipment had reached legendary levels.
The moment he pulled out a collection of small, black spheres, the other boys gasped in admiration.
"Blimey! They even look like real magical artifacts!"
The older student beamed, clearly pleased with himself.
"It's all thanks to the help of the Alchemy professor, of course," He said, though his self-satisfied grin made it abundantly clear how proud he was of his entirely ridiculous invention.
Ian just shook his head.
"Utterly childish," He muttered.
Ian, along with Cho Chang and a few other students, made his way toward the Great Hall for breakfast.
"You know," Ian mused suddenly, "If we invented a lightning rod that could store magical energy from a storm and channel it into a broom for an explosive speed boost… do you reckon it'd sell?"
Cho blinked at him, momentarily lost for words.
"I think you should ask that lot from earlier?" She suggested dryly, glancing at the overly enthusiastic group still debating broom modifications.
At the same time, she noticed Ian eyeing the long braid of a younger student swaying in front of him, as if he had the mad impulse to tug it just to see what would happen.
She sighed.
Perhaps the broomstick fanatics were the more mature group after all.
"Daphne!"
Ian suddenly spotted a familiar face near the entrance to the Great Hall and, without a second thought, abandoned Cho to dart forward.
The instant Daphne Greengrass heard Ian's voice, a visible shudder ran through her.
Her instincts screamed run.
But before she could so much as turn on her heel, Ian had already blocked her path.
"I've already praised you three times to my classmates today!" Daphne declared defensively, though her tone sounded distinctly like someone trying to ward off a curse. "You'd better not be here to cause me trouble again!"
Ian folded his arms. "And when have I ever been the one causing trouble? Honestly, have you ever met a student more unfairly persecuted than me?"
"..."
Daphne opened her mouth and then promptly closed it again.
"My family's already dealt with it! I've apologized to you, haven't I? What more do you want?" She huffed, gripping the sleeve of her friend, who was very clearly attempting to slink away unnoticed. It was as if she feared Ian might cast a Vanishing Spell on them both.
After all, that had happened once before. And the memory of it still haunted certain Slytherins.
(To Be Continued…)
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