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Not only the students, but even the professors were stunned.
A new student declaring war on the greatest wizard, Dumbledore?
The well-informed professors had never seen such a scene before. Dumbledore himself was taken aback, his wise and knowledgeable mind pausing for half a minute before he finally asked, "Mr. Cecil, can you tell me why?"
Dumbledore had, of course, heard of Allen Cecil. Many of his old friends had written to him about the existence of this legendary little chef, even joking about whether he should let the student stay after graduation and become the school's dedicated chef.
A child like this had to have exceptional talent—how else could his food produce magical effects?
But to challenge him, Albus Dumbledore, now... it made the old wizard feel like he needed to see a doctor.
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm not challenging you." Allen lifted the Loud Voice Curse. It was effective for volume, but not so pleasant on the ears. "I want to challenge your wand."
Everyone was stunned into silence.
Was there a difference?
A wand can't fight on its own. It must be wielded by a wizard. So wasn't this just a roundabout way of challenging Dumbledore?
The other students, and even most of the professors, looked baffled. Only a few individuals seemed to grasp the implication, their expressions shifting subtly.
Dumbledore was quiet for a moment. He looked carefully at the wand in Allen's hand and then seemed to understand. "Did Mr. Ollivander tell you to say that?"
"That's right," Allen admitted, "but the idea was mine. Mr. Ollivander just... pointed me in the right direction."
Allen spread his hands. "I can't help it. The wand's too expensive, and I can't afford it. Mr. Ollivander gave me a path: if I challenge the wand in your hand and win, I can erase a debt of twelve thousand Galleons."
"Twelve thousand Galleons?!"
The young wizards collectively gasped. Even Draco Malfoy, who came from the wealthy Malfoy family, drew in a sharp breath.
For the poor Weasley family, that number was absurd. But even for Draco, who had access to the Malfoy fortune, twelve thousand Galleons was a huge number. Most students had never even seen a hundred Galleons at once.
Just thinking about that kind of debt could make anyone collapse.
Dumbledore was silent again. Perhaps he was lamenting Ollivander's shamelessness—or maybe something else entirely.
But now he understood.
Ollivander was using Allen to fulfill an old fantasy—asking a first-year student to challenge the greatest wizard of the age. And the boy was actually doing it.
"I cannot accept your challenge," Dumbledore said kindly. "If you—"
He wanted to encourage the boy. As an educational pioneer, Dumbledore believed in supporting a child's growth, not stifling it.
But before he could finish, Allen interrupted brightly, "Is that so? Forget it for now—I'll ask again next time."
Ask again next time?
Everyone stared at Allen. What did he mean?
Was he serious about trying again? Did he actually think Dumbledore would agree next time?
Many now saw Allen as a sensationalist—a student trying to attract attention. They looked down on him.
Except for Gryffindor...
The Gryffindor students, reckless as ever, were thrilled. Allen had openly challenged the headmaster! If the situation had allowed, they would have cheered.
Even though Dumbledore was their respected headmaster, the challenger was a Gryffindor. That made it cool by default.
"Okay, prefects, please escort the students from each house to their dormitories," Professor McGonagall announced, standing up.
The prefects snapped out of their daze and began directing their housemates. Allen, still the center of attention, followed the Gryffindors out.
The student body slowly made its way out, separating at the stairs.
Hufflepuff and Slytherin went right, descending into the basement. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw went left, climbing the tower stairs.
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw each occupied a tower. The shorter one on the left belonged to Gryffindor; the one on the right was Ravenclaw's.
"Dragon slag," came the password.
The portrait guarding the Gryffindor common room moved aside, revealing the passageway behind it.
The corridor was narrow—only two people could walk side by side. Allen and Hermione entered together.
"Why did you challenge Headmaster Dumbledore? Was it really because of the debt?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"It's related," Allen replied casually, "but not the whole reason. And if he won't agree now, maybe he will later."
It wasn't a secret worth hiding. Even if Dumbledore knew, it wouldn't change much.
Ollivander had given Allen a map—a strategy. If Allen repeatedly challenged Dumbledore's wand through minor rule violations, he might push the headmaster into accepting.
But Allen didn't think Dumbledore would be pressured so easily.
Instead, he believed that because he was trying to resolve the wand debt, and because he was just a struggling orphan, the school wouldn't come down too hard on him.
It was a kind of moral gamble—but one that might work against someone as compassionate as Dumbledore.
Hermione looked at Allen helplessly. Though raised in a Muggle family, she had read many magical books. She understood how great Dumbledore was.
Still, she respected Allen's determination.
They reached the end of the corridor, stepping into the warmly lit common room.
It was a large, circular space with a welcoming temperature. A massive fireplace dominated one wall. Scarlet tapestries hung on the others—Gryffindor's colors. The window overlooked the Hogwarts grounds.
From this high vantage point, one could see everything: the greenhouses, the lake, and the Quidditch pitch far in the distance.
The room was scattered with soft armchairs and tables. Near the fireplace was a cozy circle of sofas. By the entrance, Allen noticed a cluster of transparent notice boards.
"This is the notice board. I'll post any important information here, so get in the habit of checking it daily," said Percy Weasley, the male prefect. Compared to the female prefect, he had a much stronger presence.
"The boys' dormitory is on the left, girls' on the right. Your luggage has already been delivered," he added. The students began dispersing.
But Percy wasn't finished.
"Mr. Cecil, I think we need to talk," Percy said seriously. "About your announcement in the Great Hall."
"Oh? Do you have any advice?" Allen asked, folding his arms.
"I think you disrespected the headmaster and the professors," Percy said sharply. "That so-called challenge of yours was pure showboating. You'd do better to focus on your studies."
These were scolding words.
Allen's lips curled slightly, but his eyes remained calm.
Hermione tried to speak up, but Allen stopped her with a look.
He wasn't afraid of confrontation.
"You say I was disrespectful. Do you have proof?" Allen asked coolly.
"It's obvious," Percy replied. "Challenging the headmaster is inherently disrespectful."
"Then I say you disrespected him. Isn't that just as obvious?" Allen countered. "Don't throw around accusations without evidence, Mr. Prefect."
"You—!" Percy frowned. "The evidence is what you said in the Great Hall!"
"Yes, I said it. That's a fact. But facts aren't evidence of disrespect. You need to analyze how what I said was disrespectful."
Allen enjoyed debates. He liked using logic to tear down weak arguments—so long as the other party played fair.
"If you respect Headmaster Dumbledore," Percy insisted, "you wouldn't try to challenge him. He's the greatest wizard of our time. Your arrogance is disrespectful."
The argument drew a crowd. Many Gryffindors who'd admired Allen's courage began wavering. Percy's logic seemed... reasonable.
Allen smiled and opened his mouth to refute him—but was interrupted by two redheads appearing out of nowhere.
Fred and George Weasley.
"Oh, Percy, you're drunk. Why are you so loud tonight?"
"Terrible drinker. George, did you spike his pumpkin juice?"
"Nonsense. It must've fermented naturally."
They each grabbed Percy by an arm and dragged him away.
"George! Fred! Let me go!" Percy shouted, struggling.
But the twins didn't budge.
Allen raised his wand and cast, "Wingardium Leviosa."
All three Weasleys began floating. The twins blinked in surprise.
"Oh my God, is this a levitation spell?" one said.
"This is amazing. Mine never lasted this long," the other added.
Percy, however, still fumed. "You two—put me down!"
"Oh, sure." They looked at Allen.
He lifted the spell.
Percy dropped like a rock.
"You jerk…" he muttered, getting up and glaring at Allen.
"We're not done. Or do you want a duel?"
Allen calmly put his wand away. "No need."
"You say I disrespected the headmaster," Allen said, "but in fact, I respect him more than you do. I respect his spirit. You only respect his title."
Percy was rattled.
"And you call yourself a Gryffindor? Headmaster Dumbledore was one too. How do you know he wouldn't admire the courage it takes to challenge someone greater?"
Percy had no answer. Gryffindor's house trait was courage—and Dumbledore embodied it.
"There's no rule that says students can't challenge a professor."
Allen turned, addressing the whole common room.
"Challenging Dumbledore is my goal, my starting line. I'll grow. And I'll surpass him someday. That's courage."
Cheers broke out—led by the floating Weasley twins.
As the drama ended, older students gradually retreated, leaving the lounge to the newcomers.
Many came up to greet Allen, now full of respect.
Percy Weasley, on the other hand, had failed to assert his authority.
But Allen? Allen's blood was boiling—and it was worth every drop.
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