"Oh?" Alan adjusted the monocle over his eye, the glass catching the dim light of the dungeons. "You make it sound as if I'm the one looking for trouble. Don't go accusing an innocent person."
"Sampel is the heir to the Travers family, and I don't think anyone here is foolish enough to provoke him," Wilkes said, looking down at Alan with an air of practiced superiority. "Sometimes, an extra friend is far more valuable than another enemy, wouldn't you agree?"
"So, what is it you actually want?" Alan raised an eyebrow, his expression openly mocking.
"I know your reputation. As a top student in the second year, the professors hold you in high regard. We are willing to extend an olive branch," Wilkes said, warming to his pitch. "As long as you are willing to support my position, we can overlook your Muggle-born status. As for Travers…" Wilkes tilted his head to glance at the fuming Sampel. "I can decide to have him forgive your past disrespect. It's a win-win situation, Alan. You're smart enough to know how to choose."
"What? Forgive this filthy Mudblood? Why should I?" Before Alan could respond, Travers let out a strangled yell of rage.
"Enough, Sampel. This is no place for a tantrum. You should learn to contribute to the glory of Slytherin and the pure-blood families," Wilkes snapped, glaring at the younger boy before turning back to Alan. "You're a pragmatist; you know the saying about people striving for higher ground."
Alan watched Wilkes's clumsy performance and couldn't help but curl his lip. These boys were quite fond of labeling themselves as the voice of Slytherin. Overlook his blood status? Forgive him? Did they truly expect him to bow his head and call them masters?
Alan leaned closer to Wilkes, a sneer twisting his lips as he let each word fall with cold precision. "Forgive me, senior, but I'm not in the habit of wagging my tail for scraps from people who act like dogs for others. I think what you should do now is tuck your own tails between your legs, because a dog's life without its master isn't going to be easy. Be careful you don't end up following in your uncle's footsteps."
"You!" Wilkes's face flushed, the veins in his neck bulging at the half-mocking, half-threatening remark. He stared intensely into Alan's eyes, the mask of gentlemanly decorum finally shattering.
At that exact moment, Professor Snape stepped into the common room to conduct his rounds. His brow furrowed at the tension in the air, and his voice cut through the room like a cold draft. "What is going on here?"
The group huddled around Alan broke apart, collectively turning to greet their Head of House. "Good evening, Professor."
"Alan, you answer me. What exactly is happening?" Snape saw Alan surrounded and stepped forward to intervene.
Travers and Wilkes exchanged a worried glance, silently cursing their timing. If the boy complained to the Head of House, they were in for a long night of scolding or worse.
"Nothing, Professor," Alan said, a thin smile playing on his lips. "They haven't seen me in the lounge for a while and were simply catching up. Wilkes was just telling me how much he misses his uncle and how he'd like to go visit him."
"His uncle?" Snape glanced at Wilkes. He remembered quite well that the boy's uncle had been killed the previous year. He realized Alan's tongue was as sharp as a razor.
However, Snape chose not to press the matter. He looked at Wilkes and asked, "Is that so, Wilkes?"
Wilkes secretly cursed Alan's malice—to say he wanted to see his uncle was essentially a death wish—but he could only stammer a response. "Uh, yes, sir. That's right. We were just... catching up."
Snape narrowed his eyes slightly, then looked back at Alan. "Follow me."
"Yes, Professor." Alan shot a parting glance at the group and followed Snape out of the lounge.
Snape led him to his office in the basement, then turned to stare at him, letting out a sharp scoff. "Hmph. Very impressive. Defying authority, playing the underdog. Do you think you're remarkably capable? Does provoking those people satisfy some pathetic vanity of yours, or do you simply find the chaos amusing?"
"Authority?" Alan laughed mockingly. "I wouldn't consider those boys to represent any authority. And you saw for yourself—I wasn't the one who initiated the confrontation. You can't expect me to bury my head in the sand when someone is pointing a finger at me, can you?"
"Furthermore," Alan emphasized, "you were the one who insisted I return to the dungeons. I was perfectly fine staying at the cabin, where I wouldn't have caused this kind of trouble."
"So, you're suggesting this is my fault?" Snape asked, his face darkening.
"I didn't say that, nor was I blaming you. In fact, I think it's a good thing to return to the Slytherin fold right now. After all, I'm curious to see what true authority actually looks like," Alan said with a challenging smile.
"As the Head of Slytherin, I have an obligation to warn you not to actively seek out trouble within this house," Snape said, his eyes thinning to slits.
"If I understand your meaning correctly, as long as I'm the one being targeted, then it's fine, right?" Alan raised an eyebrow.
"Slippery tongue," Snape muttered. He didn't refute the logic, but instead shifted the subject. "I recall seeing you once before last summer, in Knockturn Alley."
"Yes, and you nearly killed me," Alan said, his temper flaring at the memory.
"You didn't die!" Snape snapped, not having considered the danger in the heat of that moment. "You were wearing a protective amulet. It didn't look like something you'd possess."
"Oh, you mean this." Alan pulled a pendant from beneath his collar. Before the term started, he had fashioned a necklace using the silver chain Augusta Longbottom gave him and Lily's amulet. He wore it every day.
Snape's expression shifted subtly. He stepped closer, reaching out to pick up the amulet and examine it with an uncharacteristic intensity.
Alan tensed at the sudden proximity. *Is he a pervert?* he wondered. *If he flings that greasy hair in my face, I might just drop dead on the spot.*
"Lily gave that to me," Alan reminded him pointedly. "If you're so interested, you can make one yourself."
"I do not have a habit of stealing from children!" Snape said coldly. He gazed at the amulet for a moment longer before letting it fall back against Alan's chest.
Alan found the man's behavior baffling, but since he wasn't trying to take it, he kept quiet.
"You don't seem to be fitting in well in Slytherin," Snape remarked, a rare note of something approaching concern coloring his voice.