Only after leaving the Room of Requirement did Alistair realize how late it had grown. Still, a lingering worry for the Weasley twins nagged at him until he spotted a tall, dark silhouette in the corridor that served as the mandatory route to Gryffindor Tower. That was when he remembered what he had forgotten to do tonight.
Oh! Damn it! He was supposed to go down to the dungeons for his potion! He had completely forgotten!
"Mr. Ruler!" The tall man strode right up to Alistair, his voice cold and furious. "It seems the boy has forgotten that he is a walking time bomb!"
"I'm sorry, Professor," Alistair said, keeping his head down with a twinge of guilt.
Snape must have been lurking at the foot of Gryffindor Tower for quite some time; otherwise, there wouldn't have been a single student in the corridor.
Snape's fury remained unappeased, his tone icy as ever. "Making a professor wait for a student! Ten points from Gryffindor! Now! To my office!"
Alistair said nothing more, following silently behind Snape to the Potions office.
Having entered the dungeons for several days in a row, Alistair had already learned to ignore all the discomfort the office caused him.
Watching Snape work himself into a rage while still expertly brewing potions, Alistair felt he ought to say something.
"I'm sorry, Professor Snape, for making you wait so long," Alistair said flatly.
"Shut up, Ruler!" Snape snapped, not even bothering to turn his head.
Alistair slowly shut his mouth. It seemed that nothing he could say right now would defuse the man's anger.
The final beaker, brimming with liquid, was set down in front of him. Without waiting for Snape to prompt him, Alistair picked it up and drank it down in one quick motion.
Snape let out a cold snort. "You can get out."
Alistair glanced at the cauldron, then asked cautiously, "Professor, that book you confiscated last time..."
"Don't even dream about it!" Snape cut him off coldly.
Alistair pressed his lips together, changing the subject. "Perhaps you could teach me how to brew potions, so you wouldn't have to..." Brew my potion every single day.
"Pathetic!" Snape snorted derisively through his nose. "A first-year! Gryffindor-style naive stupidity! Brewing calming draughts requires immense magical power, and you—"
Alistair held his breath, guessing that whatever came next wouldn't be pleasant.
Snape curled his lips into a grotesque smile. "—a fool who can't even control his own magic, whose head is stuffed with tumbleweed, stealing the fruits of someone else's labor—a pretentious idiot who bites off more than he can chew."
Merlin! Alistair really wanted to plug his ears! Especially since the man had brought up that book yet again! He simply couldn't understand why borrowing that book was considered a crime! "If you're not willing to teach me how to brew potions, then lend me that book! I can use it to make the potion properly!"
The sneer vanished from Snape's lips, his face darkening. "I must stop this misguided behavior of yours!"
"Professor Snape, I don't see how consulting that book is a mistake. It was clearly left out in the Potions classroom for people to read, and I even got your permission to borrow it," Alistair shot back quickly, stating his case.
Snape's face contorted further. "Are you saying you borrowed that book because its owner left it lying around?!"
"I didn't say that," Alistair replied with an innocent look, "but the fact that the owner didn't take it with him clearly means he didn't mind younger students using it."
"Utter nonsense!" Snape glared angrily at Alistair. "I am not giving you that book!"
Looking at the enraged man before him, Alistair suddenly felt a perverse sense of satisfaction, as if he had managed to get back at him. Setting aside the insults he'd just endured, he asked, "Professor Snape, why are you so angry? Could this book possibly have something to do with you?"
By this point, Snape had reined in his fury, fixing Alistair with a cold warning: "It seems you'll resort to any sophistry to get your hands on that book. I will not let you have it. Now get out, unless you want to see Gryffindor's point totals plummet!"
Alistair looked at the now-composed man, a fleeting sense of regret welling up inside him, but he quickly shrugged and walked out of the office. "Good night, Professor."
"Bang!" The heavy sound of the door slamming shut echoed behind him.
Alistair couldn't help a faint smile. Merlin, provoking him wasn't actually all that bad.
***
In the days that followed, Alistair immersed himself once more in the library, devouring books.
Even though *Magical Drafts and Potions* had been confiscated, he still had the advanced potions text—though he had no use for it just yet.
His Occlumency training remained stagnant. Perhaps he was simply rushing things; he needed to start small with beginner-level texts. At least for now, Dumbledore hadn't noticed him, and his mind remained safe.
Between that and an assortment of homework assignments, Alistair had no spare time to dwell on other matters, forcing him to apply himself diligently to mastering more magic.
Fortunately, the other students soon forgot about the incident with Alistair's unconventional study methods, and the jeers and sneers stopped.
Then, on the first Wednesday morning of October, he received a letter.
Reading Hagrid's invitation to drop by his hut for a visit, Alistair suddenly remembered that two whole weeks had passed since Hagrid had escorted him back.
And he had completely forgotten about the man.
"Good grief!" Alistair set down his breakfast, pondering what to do next.
"What is it, Ali?" Fred asked around a mouthful of toast.
"Hagrid invited me over to his hut for a visit."
"Oh, you mean that Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts—"
"—half-giant Rubeus Hagrid?"
"Yes. He's a really good guy, just a bit lonely because no one hangs out with him." Alistair looked at the twins. "Are you two going? He keeps a lot of small animals; if you cheer him up, he might just give you some materials for free."
"Really?! Mate, we're not those kinds of people." Fred flashed a mischievous grin.
"We'd be glad to be friends with a half-giant," George chimed in.
"Right then, I'll let him know you're coming too." Alistair flipped the slip of parchment over and wrote: *Thanks for the invitation. If you don't mind, I'll bring two friends along. See you Friday afternoon.*
He rolled up the note, tied it to the owl's leg, and fed it a small piece of bread.
"I can't wait to see what kind of creatures he keeps~"
"Agreed~"
"You won't be looking forward to it," Alistair said with a helpless smile. "At least, I happen to know there's a Buckbeak, a Hippogriff." Not to mention the Acromantulas lurking in the Forbidden Forest, though Alistair kept that to himself.
"Well, that might be quite an adventure." Fred stuck out his tongue and stood up. "We need to get going."
"Come on, Ali, Defense Against the Dark Arts is first period, and the classroom is a bit of a hike." George stood up as well.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts post was still dogged by its curse—no one ever managed to last a full year in the position. This year's professor, Galley, was an elderly man Alistair had never seen before. His robes were clean enough, but he was utterly rigid; Alistair pegged him as completely incapable of flexibility.
That was proven true when their very first lesson required them to read through Chapter One of *The Theory of Defensive Magic* in meticulous detail, covering various theoretical methods of magical defense.
Alistair had to admit that committing the contents to memory was a sound approach, but without practical application, everyone would simply freeze up—or be scared out of their wits—when faced with a real battle.
Even Alistair couldn't guarantee his knees wouldn't turn to jelly in the middle of a war, which was why he believed spell-casting practice and dueling drills were far more important.
The current first-years were a bunch of adorable yet exasperating brats who didn't even know a basic shield charm. Merlin! It was so frustrating!
Alistair raked a hand through his reddish-brown hair.
Since their second-period class was held in the greenhouses outside the castle, Alistair hurried over to the Defense professor the moment the lesson ended to offer a few suggestions.
"Professor, I don't think we should just have the students reading books. They need to actually cast spells to know whether they've truly grasped them."
"No, no, students only need to understand the principles. As long as they are safe, there is no need for them to learn practical usage."
"Professor! If a person doesn't even know how to protect themselves, how can they protect others? If this generation grows up completely incapable of self-defense, who is going to step up as Aurors to protect anyone?"
"My boy, you don't need to worry your head about such matters; adults will take care of them. You should be off to your second class now."
Before Alistair could say another word, he was ushered out of the Defense classroom. He gave the floor an angry stomp of frustration before hurrying off to Herbology.
"Merlin! It's none of my business!" Alistair fumed inwardly. At this rate, the students wouldn't even stand a chance of defending themselves against a Death Eater attack!