Alex sneered down at him. "I've wasted enough time on you already. But I'll be taking your wands. If you want them back, it'll cost you—20 Galleons each. And don't forget, this is your first wand, isn't it?"
With a chuckle, Alex turned and walked out of the room, leaving them behind. Travers, furious and humiliated, slammed his fist against the bathroom floor, only to wince from the pain. "What now?" asked a younger boy beside him, his voice shaking.
"What do you think?" Travers snapped. "Wake up Wilkes. We need to figure out what to do."
When Wilkes woke up and heard what happened, his face twisted in anger. "He took all our wands?" he said, incredulous.
"Yeah, Senior Wilkes. That guy's so full of himself. Not only did he beat us, but he stole our wands!" one of the younger boys whined.
"We should report him to the Head of House," another suggested nervously. "He attacked us first. At the very least, we could get our wands back and deal with him later."
"No," a fourth-year interrupted, shaking his head. "If we report this, it'll spread, and we'll look even weaker. Besides, he didn't leave any proof. If we push too hard, he might just destroy our wands outright. At most, the Head of House would give him detention."
Wilkes clenched his fists. "Then what are we supposed to do?"
Travers gritted his teeth. "Let's go to Prefect Yaxley. He'll know what to do. I swear, I'll make that Mudblood pay for this—tenfold, no, a thousand times over!"
"Yeah," the others echoed, their voices thick with venom. "We'll make him pay in blood."
They gathered their thoughts and marched off toward the Slytherin common room, anger and determination etched on their faces.
Meanwhile, in the bathroom, a loud wail echoed from one of the stalls. Moaning Myrtle floated out, clutching her ghostly glasses. "Oh, how terrifying! That boy almost scared Myrtle to death—again!" she sobbed, wiping at her phantom tears. "His aura was so menacing, I had to hide. If I hadn't, I might've fallen to pieces!"
In Yaxley's private room back in the Slytherin dorms, the group sat nursing their bruised egos. They took turns recounting their run-in with Alex.
"So, let me get this straight," Yaxley said, raising an eyebrow as he looked them over. "Seven of you got humiliated by a second-year Muggle-born, and you even lost your wands?"
Wilkes, still sporting visible bruises, stared at the floor. "It's true. And he said he'd come for you next, Yaxley."
"Unbelievable," Yaxley snapped, his frustration evident. "You've handed our pure-blood reputation to him on a silver platter."
Travers clenched his fists. "That boy is ruthless. You've got to help us, Yaxley. We need to show him who really runs Slytherin."
Yaxley leaned back, his eyes narrowing in thought. "No, not yet. Professor Bones is already keeping a close watch on me, and Vanessa would never let me get away with something reckless. Besides, Alex probably expects retaliation. We'll wait for the right moment."
Wilkes frowned. "What do you mean?"
Yaxley smirked, his tone cold. "Let him think he's won. Christmas is coming, and students will leave for the holidays. Keep an eye on him. If he steps off school grounds, we'll be waiting."
"And if he doesn't?" Travers asked, skeptical.
"Then we wait until Easter. If not then, summer. By next year, he'll start Hogsmeade trips, and the new Defense professor won't be here to protect him. That'll be our time."
Wilkes nodded slowly, a grim understanding settling over him. "Next year, without Bones or Vanessa…"
"Exactly. When the time comes, he'll regret every word, every insult," Yaxley said with a dark smile.
"What about our wands?" Travers grumbled. "We can't just leave them with him."
Yaxley waved a hand dismissively. "Pay the ransom. Get them back quietly. Consider it a lesson in patience. Don't provoke him for now—we can't risk alerting the professors. Remember, snakes only strike when it's the perfect moment."
Travers clenched his fists but nodded. "Fine. But when the time comes, he'll regret crossing paths with me."
Elsewhere, Alex stood outside Professor Bones' office. The door was ajar, and inside, the professor was engrossed in studying a pair of glowing, rune-etched glasses. Bones didn't look up until Alex cleared his throat softly.
"Alex," Bones said, setting the glasses aside. "It's not like you to visit during the day. What's on your mind?"
Alex stepped forward, his expression serious. "I've got some news. Have you heard about the Longbottoms?"
Burns' face darkened as he leaned forward. "I just got word from Emmeline. She was with them. They're safe, but... they've been seriously hurt. They're still unconscious."
Alex's jaw tightened, though relief flickered in his eyes. "At least they're alive. I've dug up some information on the attackers. I think I know who's behind this."
Burns' expression sharpened instantly. "Are you certain?"
Alex nodded firmly. "Yes. My sources point to Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange. They're hiding near Mole Valley in Surrey. It's close to where the Longbottoms were last seen."
Burns' gaze grew more intense. "Good work, Alex. But let me remind you—talent, no matter how bright, can lead to darkness if you're not careful. Many wizards have gone down that road, thinking they could control it."
"I understand, Professor," Alex replied, his voice steady. "But as a Slytherin, I can't just sit back and do nothing. I've never been one to follow the rules blindly, and I won't start now."
Burns nodded, his tone serious. "The Lestranges have been wanted by the Ministry for years. I've suspected they were involved, but their exact location has been a mystery. Your information is critical. I'll inform Moody immediately."
Alex acknowledged this with a nod before leaving the office. Burns watched him go, worry flashing across his face for a brief moment.
Later that evening, back in the Slytherin common room, Alex glanced up as Rozier approached him nervously. With a wry grin, Alex said, "Didn't think they'd send you."
Rozier shifted awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. "Wilkes and the others didn't want to face you themselves. They sent me to... deal with it. What did you do to him, anyway? His face turns bright red every time your name comes up."
Alex smirked. "Maybe you should ask him yourself. Now, enough small talk—did you bring the money?"
Rozier handed over a small pouch of Galleons. "Here. 140 Galleons. I don't know how, but you actually got them to pay up."
Alex pocketed the money with a chuckle. "Guess they're not completely stupid—or maybe a few of them have some sense."
"What do you mean?" Rozier asked, looking confused.
"They're too scared to make a scene at school, so they'll bide their time. They'll wait for a chance when they think I'm not paying attention," Alex said, his tone dismissive. "Have they said anything about their plans?"
Rozier shook his head. "Not really, but they're angry. They won't just let this go."
"Neither will I," Alex replied coldly. "Keep an ear out and let me know if you hear anything."
Rozier hesitated. "You're really planning to go up against them? If this escalates, you could get expelled—or worse, end up in Azkaban."
"Only if they catch me in the act," Alex said with a smirk. "Now go. Let me know if anything comes up."