In Alan's eyes, the match had descended into a farce. Slytherin's Seeker was wandering the pitch aimlessly, attempting to disrupt the opposing players while making no effort to end the game. Several times, the Golden Snitch hummed right past his nose, but he ignored it with pointed intent. Meanwhile, the Gryffindor players, fearing that an increased lead would only prolong the stalemate, had retreated into a defensive shell in front of their goal.
Alan pursed his lips. This match showed no signs of ending, and he had no desire to waste more time in the stands. He murmured a quick word to Vivian and departed the field alone.
In the distant stands, Travers caught sight of Alan's departure and smirked. He whispered a few words to Randall Rozier, and the two of them slipped away to follow.
Alan, walking ahead, noticed the commotion behind him almost immediately. The tracking skills of these youngsters were amateurish at best; they were as subtle as a stampeding Hippogriff.
Seeing this, Alan knew Travers was looking for trouble. Since someone was so intent on seeking out their own demise, he felt he should oblige them. After a brief thought, he changed direction. Instead of heading back to the castle, he turned toward the Owlery.
Travers and Rozier didn't think twice. They merely sneered and quickened their pace, convinced their prey was cornered. When they saw Alan circle around to the back of the shed instead of entering, Travers assumed the boy was trying to escape through the shadows. He grabbed Rozier's arm and hurried to catch up.
However, when they rounded the corner, they found Alan leaning casually against the stone wall, watching them as if he had been expecting them for tea.
Travers didn't let the oddity of the situation stop him. He stepped forward with a sneer. "You filthy Mudblood, why aren't you running—"
Before he could finish the insult, a spell flashed through the air. It struck Travers square in the chest, sending him flying backward to crumple into the dirt, out cold. Rozier, seeing Alan attack without a single word of warning, fumbled frantically for his wand.
Alan watched the boy's clumsy movements with disdain. To come looking for a fight without even having your wand drawn—how unprofessional. How could someone so incompetent dare to play the bully?
Alan didn't cast another spell immediately. Instead, he simply began to walk forward.
Rozier finally managed to pull his wand free, gripping it with both trembling hands. He yelled, his voice cracking with nerves, "You... don't come any closer! If you do, I'll... I'll..."
Alan's expression grew even more unimpressed. "What will you do? Are you going to commit suicide if I come any closer?"
The words sent Rozier into a spiral of panic. He convinced himself that Alan had led them to this deserted corner to commit murder. In his terror, he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a high-pitched scream, firing a spell blindly.
The aim was atrocious, the bolt passing several feet wide of Alan, yet the raw power of the casting caught Alan's interest. *So, tension and fear really do boost spell intensity,* he mused, stroking his chin.
"Stop yelling," Alan said, his voice cutting through the noise. "Even if you scream until you're hoarse, no one is coming to save you."
Rather than silencing him, the remark only made Rozier more hysterical. He fired spell after spell, none of which came close to hitting their target. Annoyed by the racket, Alan gave his wand a sharp flick. An Expelliarmus tore through the air, yanking the wand from Rozier's grasp.
Alan stepped forward, swept Rozier's legs out from under him, and pinned him to the ground with a foot on his chest. He leaned over, the tip of his wand pressed firmly against the boy's throat.
"Do you want to die?" Alan asked coldly.
Rozier gasped for air, his face pale. "Don't kill me! Please! It was all Travers! It was his idea, I was just dragged along! I didn't want any of this!"
Alan sighed. Why was it so difficult to communicate with these pure-blood families? Was it the centuries of inbreeding that made their minds so fragile?
"Shut up. I won't say it again." Alan's gaze was icy. Rozier swallowed hard and finally went quiet, though he began to cough violently from the pressure on his chest.
Alan lifted his foot and squatted beside him. "Are you scared?"
"Yes!" Rozier croaked. "I'm scared!"
"Will you dare to provoke me again?"
"No! Never! I'll stay far away from you, and I'll make sure Travers stays away too!"
"Heh... you don't have to do that," Alan laughed softly. "If he wants to cause trouble, let him. Don't be polite on my account."
Rozier, assuming this was a trap or a sarcastic threat, stammered, "No, I wouldn't dare! I'll keep him away!"
Alan saw the boy was thoroughly broken, so he reached out and hauled him to his feet. Rozier's legs were like jelly; Alan had to hold him upright to keep him from sliding back into the mud. He even took a moment to brush the dust off Rozier's robes, smiling in a way that didn't reach his eyes.
"I'm serious, Randall. If he wants to come after me, you don't need to stop him. But if you're willing, you can tell me about it in advance."
Rozier froze. He understood immediately—Alan was recruiting him as a mole. But he knew that if he refused now, he might not leave this corner alive. He looked at Alan's darkening expression and whispered, "Okay... okay. But if I get caught, I'm finished."
"Don't worry. If you behave, I'll protect you. Have you ever heard of protection money?" Alan asked, smiling at him as if they were the best of friends.
"Protection money? What does that mean?"
"It means you give me ten Galleons every month, and in exchange, I'm responsible for your safety."
Rozier tensed. This was extortion, plain and simple. He was being forced to spy *and* pay for the privilege? He looked at Alan's hand, which was currently squeezing his arm with bruising strength.
"But... what if I don't have that much?" he asked uneasily. "What if I can't pay?"
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Guys I will correct the previous chapters as well before uploading more of them. I thought it would be interesting but people don't like it.
(Btw Quitelittleweeb is very tactical)
Do comment for any suggestions and POWERSTONES are greatly appreciated.