Higgs frowned, deep in thought. The memory of Alex's skill and composure during Charles' training flashed in his mind. Slowly, he nodded. "Alright, what do you need from me?"
"For now, nothing," Alex said, his tone casual. "All we need to do is wait."
"Wait?" Higgs raised an eyebrow.
"Slytherin values cunning and self-preservation above all else," Alex explained, a sly grin forming. "As long as they're not directly affected, most people will sit on the sidelines. But once these pure-blood radicals push too far, the half-bloods in our house will inevitably start resisting."
Higgs seemed to catch on. "You're right. There are plenty of half-blood wizards in Slytherin. Even though they come from respected families, they won't tolerate being looked down on forever."
"Exactly," Alex said. "When the backlash begins, that's when you'll step in. You'll act as a voice of reason, rallying the half-bloods and stabilizing the house. Leave the radicals to me."
Vivian chimed in with a nod. "That makes sense. Most Slytherins are pragmatic. They won't blindly follow a cause that risks their own standing."
"But are you really sure about this?" Higgs asked hesitantly. "There are seven pure-bloods in the sixth and seventh years, led by Yaxley. They're no pushovers."
Alex's calm demeanor didn't waver. "I know exactly who I'm dealing with, and I've prepared accordingly. Just stay low for now. They won't try anything extreme while we're still under Dumbledore's roof."
Then Alex glanced at both Higgs and Vivian. "Also, I'd like you to join my training plan. Strength is the foundation of everything. What do you think?"
Vivian tilted her head curiously. "Training? Like the one Charles is doing?"
"Exactly," Alex replied.
Charles, standing to the side, eagerly interjected. "You don't know how effective it is! I've only been training for a year, and look at me now!" His grin turned mischievous as he thought to himself, 'If I have to suffer through this, you're not getting off easy either.'
Higgs and Vivian exchanged glances, both recalling the strength Charles had displayed earlier. After a moment, they nodded in agreement. "Alright," Vivian said, "when do we start?"
"Tomorrow," Alex confirmed. He turned to Charles with a smirk. "Since you're so enthusiastic, you can handle the basics for them."
Charles gulped but nodded enthusiastically. "Got it!"
After dismissing the group, Alex returned to his room, letting out a long breath. He had successfully secured their cooperation, but he knew he couldn't let them meddle in his plans. Timing and strategy were everything. 'Dumbledore... what are you playing at?' Alex thought to himself. It feels like you're deliberately allowing these pure-bloods to act out. But if that's your move, I'll turn it to my advantage.
The next day, Hogwarts bustled with its usual energy. Alex attended his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the semester alongside Vivian and Charles. The professor, whom they had briefly seen at the opening feast, stood at the front of the classroom. His unkempt appearance and tired expression made him look like he hadn't had a good day in years.
"Good morning," the professor began, his voice monotone. "I'm Guillaume Genti, your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year. Although teaching is tedious and repetitive, I do need to pay the bills, so here we are. Let's just get this over with."
The class fell silent, every student staring at him in shock. Noticing their expressions, Professor Genti blinked. "What? Is there something on my face?"
A brave girl raised her hand. "Uh, Professor, you don't seem... happy. Maybe you should ask Professor Snape for a bottle of Euphoria Potion?"
Professor Genti sighed, his tone flat. "Thank you for the suggestion, but fake happiness won't solve anything. Still, I suppose it's the thought that counts."
The girl gave an awkward laugh, unsure how to respond. Another student chimed in nervously, "Professor, I could cast a spell to make you laugh! Would that help?"
"Ah, the so-called Cheer-Up Charm," Genti replied. "A waste of effort. Forcing someone to laugh when they're miserable is just another form of torture."
His words cast a heavy silence over the room. Sensing the awkwardness, Genti forced a wide, toothy grin that looked more terrifying than cheerful. "How about I teach you something useful instead?"
The students perked up instantly, their enthusiasm returning. "Yes, please!" "What kind of magic?"
The professor smirked faintly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Ah, it's a spell that ensures none of you become professors in the next twenty years. In other words, the kind of magic no one appreciates until they need it for survival. Cherish it—it'll come in handy when job hunting."
The classroom fell silent again, the oppressive atmosphere nearly tangible. "Alex," Vivian whispered from her seat, leaning slightly toward him, "don't you think something's... off about our new professor?"
Alex nodded subtly, his eyes fixed on the despondent man at the front. "Off? That's putting it lightly. His negativity feels like it's trying to suck the air out of the room."
The next two hours dragged on endlessly. Professor Genti's droning voice filled the classroom as he monotonously read from the textbook, punctuated by his own grim commentary. "Why bother? None of this knowledge matters in the grand scheme of things. Still, it's tradition to waste time like this, so let's continue. Who am I to disrupt the system?" Occasionally, he muttered lines like, "Every second brings us closer to the inevitable," and "True bravery is sitting through this without breaking down."
By the time the bell rang, the students were utterly drained.
"Alright, class dismissed," Genti said, his voice as lifeless as ever. "And here's your homework: write a two-foot essay on today's topic. Not that I'll read it—it's just another pointless exercise. But professors love following tradition, right? Wronging yourself for survival is just human nature, after all." He turned on his heel and shuffled out of the room without waiting for a response.
Vivian shivered as they left the classroom. "That was... horrible. I feel like my soul just got wrung out and left to dry."
Charles slouched next to her, rubbing his temples. "Does he always talk like that? I was ready to burst into tears halfway through."
Even Alex, usually unflappable, sighed as he stretched his neck. "Let's just hope he doesn't actually cast a depression spell on us next time."
That evening, Alex pushed the gloomy atmosphere aside and packed for the Charms Club meeting. When he arrived at the meeting room, many older students were already there, chatting animatedly. Unsurprisingly, the topic of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor dominated the conversation.
"Have you been to his class yet?" a seventh-year girl said, her voice filled with disbelief.
"It's terrifying. Sitting through it feels like being cursed to relive your worst memories."
"Right?" another student chimed in. "I heard he used to be a curse-breaker for Gringotts. He was brilliant—one of the best at counter-curses. But apparently, something happened, and he just... fell apart."
Sherly Lenister, a seventh-year with a keen interest in curse-breaking, added thoughtfully, "I've read some of his papers. His insights into counter-curse theory were groundbreaking, but four years ago, he suddenly stopped publishing. Rumor has it he started failing at even basic spells."
"Do you think he's cursed?" someone else asked.
"It's possible," Shirley replied, her brow furrowed. "He did a lot of work in Egypt. Maybe he triggered something ancient there. It would explain his current state."