Succubus System At Hogwarts

Voldemort glared in the direction Harry and Draco had fled, his body trembling as he stood up shakily. He let out a furious roar, as if scolding them for interrupting his meal.

He fired several spells toward their retreating figures, but Ian intercepted every single one.

It was clear that Voldemort's main target was still Harry. Not surprising—after all, Harry was the so-called Savior who had survived him once before.

Ian watched as Harry and Draco disappeared into the distance, finally exhaling in relief. Then, turning back to Voldemort, he sneered. "Come on, let's see what you've got."

He refused to believe that, after living two lives, he couldn't take down a weakened Voldemort.

Raising his wand, Ian shouted, "Petrificus Totalus! Expulso! Incarcerous!"

If nothing else, he'd bombard Voldemort with spells until he collapsed!

His magic slammed into Voldemort, and even in his weakened state, it was enough to make the noseless menace stagger.

"See? You are Pathetic!" Ian mocked as Voldemort's grip on his wand faltered.

Enraged, Voldemort retaliated, another sickly green light shooting toward Ian.

"Avada Kedavra!"

But Ian wasn't about to back down. Without hesitation, he cast the shattering spell he had just learned, countering Voldemort's attack head-on.

"Confringo! Expelliarmus!"

The two spells collided in a violent clash, their magic surging against one another.

One green. One red.

The Forbidden Forest was suddenly bathed in blinding light as the beams crackled and pulsed.

Ian gritted his teeth and held his ground.

Ian could feel his magic draining rapidly, but he didn't dare let up—not even for a second. One moment of weakness, and he'd be bathed in that lovely green light.

Damn… how is this noseless monster still this strong?! Ian cursed internally.

He felt like a tiny boat in the middle of a raging ocean, ready to be capsized by massive waves at any moment.

Was Voldemort using up all his magic because he was already half-dead? Unlimited power mode, is that it?!

Where the hell is Dumbledore?! Can't he see I'm about to drop dead here?!

Just as Ian was reaching his limit, the sudden sound of hurried, pounding hooves echoed through the forest.

Hearing the approaching centaurs, Voldemort instantly abandoned the fight. He released a surge of magic, abruptly breaking the confrontation, and fled without looking back.

Ian stared at Voldemort's panicked retreat before finally collapsing onto the ground, gasping for fresh air.

Damn… that was way too close.

The centaurs galloped onto the scene, their expressions tense. Seeing Ian still in one piece, they let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Are you alright?" The centaur Firenze stepped forward, his tone laced with concern.

Ian, too exhausted to notice the unusual concern in Firenze's voice, patted the dirt off his clothes and stood up.

He was just about to reply when a sudden stinging sensation pricked his face.

Instinctively, Ian reached up to touch it. When he pulled his hand away, he saw a smear of blood on his palm.

"..."

Ian froze.

He stared at the blood on his hands, then finally registered the pain on his face.

During the confrontation with Voldemort just now, he hadn't been injured… or so he thought.

No!

He had dodged several spells, he was completely fine—but his face had been scratched!!!

"Voldemort, fuck you! …fucking piece of shit! Fuck!" Ian's face turned red with rage as he cursed in the direction Voldemort had fled.

"Voldemort! You noseless fucking dumbass! You ruined your own fucking face, and now you wanna ruin mine?!" Ian's voice was filled with righteous fury. "Fuck you, you ugly snake-faced bastard! Your mother should've taken that sperm on her upper mouth and not lower! You fuc—"

Seeing the young wizard suddenly lose his mind with rage, Firenze quickly stepped forward to calm him down.

"Uh… maybe stop cursing? He's already run away…"

"Fuck that! Don't stop me! I'm gonna curse him to death!" Ian raged, jumping up and down.

He pointed at the bloody scratches on his face, his fury unabated. "Look! Look at this! That motherfucker actually landed a hit on me! Is he jealous of my goddamn good looks?!"

His face! His fucking face! That was the face he used to seduce little witches! That was an important tool for making friends and gaining the trust of teachers!

The centaur Firenze stared at the scratches on Ian's face, remaining silent for a moment before hesitantly saying, "Actually… your wounds will be healed in about two days—"

Firenze glanced at Ian, who was still in a blind rage, and wisely swallowed the rest of his words.

By the time Hagrid arrived, crossbow in hand, with the other students in tow, what he saw was a bizarre sight—a group of centaurs surrounding Ian, all talking amongst themselves.

Thinking there had been some kind of conflict, Hagrid rushed over in alarm.

"Oi! Everyone, let's not have any misunderstandings—"

Before Hagrid could even finish speaking, Ian's furious shouting rang through the forest once more.

"I'm going to pull out his intestines! Tie them to his fucking head! Make him live on dragon dung every damn day!"

Hagrid: "..."

He was stunned.

Ian stood there, surrounded by centaurs, scratches marring his face, his clothes torn in places—but instead of looking injured or weak, he was absolutely furious, radiating pure murderous intent.

The centaurs stood nearby, looking helpless. Some were even attempting to tend to Ian's wounds.

The centaur leader, Ronan, noticed Hagrid's confused expression and quickly stepped forward to explain. "Hagrid, we came to save him. He…"

Ronan hesitated before continuing, "He was injured in the face by the creature that attacked the unicorn. That's why he's so angry."

"Oh, thank Merlin, he's alright," Hagrid exhaled in relief. He had been genuinely terrified that the kid had run into something truly dangerous and lost his sanity.

Harry, upon seeing Ian still alive and standing, felt a surge of emotion, his eyes welling up with tears.

But just as he stepped forward, Hermione and Cassandra ruthlessly shoved him aside and rushed to Ian first.

"Ian!" Hermione gasped, looking at the scratches on his face with distress. "Your face is injured!"

Cassandra's expression was equally heartbroken. Too much! They actually dared to attack such a handsome face!

Ian waved a dismissive hand. "I'm fine," he said, though his eyes flashed with pure malice. "That bastard's in trouble now."

Messing with my face? I'll mess with your life!

Voldemort, you're fucking dead.

From now on, he was taking out at least one Horcrux per year!

"You know who the one that attacked the unicorn is, don't you?" Hagrid turned to Ronan, his expression grave.

Ronan remained silent, but Firenze glanced toward the fallen unicorn and spoke.

"It's not wise to speak that name at a time like this."

Hagrid nodded solemnly as he looked at the unicorn, its silver blood still glistening under the dim forest light.

"Hagrid, he drank the unicorn's blood," Harry said, frowning.

"Ian Potter, do you know what unicorn blood can do?" Firenze suddenly asked, his gaze fixed on Ian.

Ian blinked in surprise. Shouldn't this be directed at Harry? Why is he asking me?

Firenze, however, didn't seem to expect an answer. He simply continued speaking as if talking to himself.

"Killing a unicorn is an act of pure evil. Only those who have lost everything and seek to regain it would commit such a heinous crime."

Ian listened carefully to Firenze's words and instinctively responded, "Unicorn blood grants immortality."

"Yes, pure blood that can extend one's life," Firenze affirmed. "Even if you are on the verge of death, drinking it will keep you alive—but at a terrible cost."

"In order to save your own life, you would have slaughtered a pure, innocent, and defenseless creature. And from the moment its blood touches your lips, you are condemned to a half-life—a cursed existence."

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