O Mensageiro de Corvos de Hogwarts
O início da história. Ian achava que era apenas um pequeno bruxo com um leve talento especial, que poderia se tornar mais forte com esforço. No entanto, à medida que a história se desenrolava, ele com
London, shrouded in thick fog.
Amid the nearly impenetrable mist blanketing the city, a small boy was packing up his stall early along the somewhat desolate streets of London, preparing to head home.
He wore a black cap and a black trench coat, naturally drawing attention to his face—a face marked by a prominent nose, perfectly curved lips, and an irresistibly charming smile. It must be admitted, this boy easily won the favor of women.
Especially mature women.
Just as the boy was about to leave, a gentle voice called from behind.
“Little fortune teller, do you have time?”
Ian Prince turned his head.
In his green eyes reflected a refined lady dressed in a blue plaid turtleneck dress, accompanied by a cute brown-haired girl with hair as wild as a bird’s nest.
“Of course. Fate has granted me a moment longer, evidently to await this very moment,” Ian Prince said, slipping effortlessly into his role.
His practiced speech belied his youth, “Every form of divination is a revelation of the future. If you don’t mind, madam, may I have the honor of knowing your name?”
“You may call me Mrs. Granger,” she replied, smiling warmly at Ian’s exquisitely carved features. The lady found the little boy utterly adorable.
It must be said: good looks often open many doors. Ian’s appearance alone could capture the hearts of many young girls, let alone a lady like Mrs. Granger.
“Very well, Mrs. Granger, what would you like me to divine?”
Ian smiled as he rearranged his divination tools.
“Of course—it’s about…” M