After scouring all seven years of Potions textbooks, Alan walked back in high spirits. He estimated that the foundational spells and Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum for years one through seven would be fully under his belt in about a week. Once he selected and drilled his primary self-defense spells, he could finally put his potion business on the agenda.
As Alan headed towards the Great Hall, he passed a classroom on the third floor and caught a faint rustling sound. His keen senses, sharpened by years of discipline, told him someone was inside.
"Is someone else out raiding classrooms?" he wondered. "No, this is the first-year Defense Against the Dark Arts room."
Curiosity got the better of him. Alan cast a Silencing Charm on himself and moved toward the door. It was locked, and opening it would surely alert whoever was inside. His goal was information, not a confrontation.
This didn't stump him. Alan raised his wand to his ear and cast an Amplifying Charm. He had picked up this specific technique at the last Charms Club meeting; it involved anti-silencing methods that could multiply one's hearing several times. It was a research breakthrough by Quirrell, a Ravenclaw senior whose work focused on sonic resonance.
As the spell took hold, the ambient noise of the castle became a roar. This was the downside of the technique; if someone were to shout nearby while the spell was active, the caster could be knocked unconscious. Alan adjusted to the sensory overload for a few seconds, then pressed his ear against the wood. Intermittent voices filtered through.
"Tomorrow night… Charles… you guys… hahaha… idiots… give him a hard time…" The speakers were keeping their voices low, and environmental echoes made it difficult to catch every word.
Alan listened for a moment longer before dispelling the magic. The technique was still unrefined, and the strain left him feeling dizzy after only two minutes. However, he had heard enough to piece together the situation. There were at least five or six people in the room. He recognized Travers's voice, but the others were unfamiliar—likely upperclassmen from other years. They were clearly orchestrating an ambush for Charles or a group of Gryffindors the following night.
A mixed group of students from different grades wouldn't gather in secret just to prank a single first-year.
"Is a house war brewing? It seems Slytherin is preparing to strike first. With Dumbledore away from the school so often lately, they're taking the opportunity to cause trouble," Alan mused, sorting through the cause and effect.
While the inter-house politics weren't his concern, they had mentioned Charles. As someone he considered a friend, Alan decided he should offer a warning if the opportunity arose.
He hurried to the Great Hall, where dinner was already in full swing. Sitting at the Slytherin table, he noticed that several of the more vocal pure-blood partisans were missing. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table and saw Charles laughing with his classmates, oblivious to the shadow hanging over him.
Alan ate quickly. The food was greasy and mediocre, but it served its purpose. He waited until he saw several of the missing Slytherins return to the hall, looking entirely nonchalant as they sat down to eat. Shortly after, Charles and his friends began packing up to leave.
Alan stood up first, slipped out of the Great Hall, and waited in the shadow of a nearby corridor corner. When the Gryffindors emerged, he caught Charles's eye.
"Charles!" he called out softly, waving him over.
Charles looked puzzled, but he told his friends to go on ahead and walked toward Alan. Alan grabbed his arm and pulled him deeper into the alcove.
"What's the matter, Alan? Why the secrecy?" Charles asked.
"I need to ask you something: do you have plans for tomorrow night?" Alan's voice was barely a whisper.
Charles's heart skipped a beat. He did have plans, and the fact that a Slytherin knew about them was alarming. Despite their lack of contact since the sorting, Charles instinctively trusted Alan's intentions.
"Yes," Charles admitted. "It's one of our prefect's birthdays. We're planning a night adventure to the Astronomy Tower to celebrate."
"Just as I thought," Alan noted internally.
"Listen to me carefully. You might be in danger tomorrow night. If you can, stay away from it. At the very least, warn the others to cancel the trip," Alan said firmly.
"You mean…?" Charles's eyes widened. Alan gave a sharp nod.
"Don't tell anyone you heard this from me. Just be careful." Alan didn't wait for a response. He turned and walked away, having done what he could.
As an acquaintance he liked, warning Charles once was the extent of his responsibility. If the Gryffindors chose to walk into an ambush after being warned, their injuries were their own fault. This was Hogwarts, after all; he doubted anyone would actually be killed, but a few of them were likely in for a very rough night.
Charles remained in the corridor, looking thoughtful as he processed the warning.
Alan put the matter out of his mind and returned to his room. He picked up a copy of The Daily Prophet to get a sense of the world beyond the castle walls.
"It seems Millicent Bagnold is taking a hard line," Alan noted. The new Minister for Magic had given a public address, reaffirming her resolve to crush the Death Eaters and even authorizing Aurors to use Unforgivable Curses in the field. The atmosphere in the wizarding world was tightening.
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