While the Weasley twins were completely absorbed in their grand project—developing "Lockhart's Smile" into a weapon of mass destruction—on the other side of the castle, Alan's exploration also reached a critical point.
Inside his Mind Palace, the chaos was gone.
Over the past few weeks, every alchemical text he had borrowed from the library—so long as it wasn't written by Lockhart—had been broken down into countless fragments of words, each flickering with contradictory brilliance. They floated like a chaotic nebula, colliding and repelling each other in the dark mental space.
Alan's mental form stood in the center of this nebula.
Calmly, he examined each fragment.
"… the transformation of life essence must rely on an isomorphic vessel…"
"… the essence of the old ritual is the directed grid of will upon reality…"
"… runes are not symbols, but channels of energy flow…"
These obscure notes, drawn from different eras and different authors, were like incompatible program modules forced into the same system.
Alan's task now was to find their underlying universal protocol.
His thoughts accelerated, working at a speed beyond ordinary comprehension, exhaustively arranging and combining the fragments of information. Failed links disintegrated into dust the moment they formed, faulty logical chains collapsing with sharp alarm-like screeches.
At last—after an immense expenditure of mental energy—a radiant band of pure logic pierced through the entire nebula.
It linked a passage from The Key of Solomon on "materialization of will" with repeated medieval references to "ecological energy redirection" in alchemical treatises.
The light-band extended further, latching perfectly onto a fragment from an ancient Egyptian scroll that described "symbols" as guiding mediums for energy.
A complete, self-consistent theoretical loop had formed.
The instant this construction was complete, Alan's entire Mind Palace trembled.
Then, a cold, emotionless system notification exploded in the depths of his consciousness:
[Side Quest Triggered #14: The Initiator of the Rune Path]
[Objective: Successfully draw and activate your first Intent Rune.]
[Hint: To activate an ancient rune, you not only need the correct form and incantation, but also a special energy medium infused with pure life force—to serve as the "ink."]
Alan's awareness withdrew from the Mind Palace, and his eyes snapped open. His breathing was a little unsteady, his heart thudding powerfully in his chest.
"Energy medium…"
He repeated the key phrase under his breath, his gaze instinctively sweeping across his desk.
At last, his sight was drawn to a gentle glow in the corner.
Inside a glass jar sat the luminous moss Hagrid had given him. They grew quietly, emitting a cool, moonlit glow brimming with vitality, bathing the nearby books in a veil of silver radiance.
A thought emerged—not so much reasoned out, but exploding from the depths of his soul like a lightning bolt—illuminating his entire mind at once.
A powerful, undeniable intuition surged through his Mind Palace.
Alan could almost be certain:
this magical plant—able to grow only at the watering places of unicorns, those creatures that symbolized purity and life itself—was exactly the energy medium he needed.
It was, in essence, crystallized pure life energy.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere in Gryffindor's common room was anything but calm.
Bang!
A muffled thud echoed as Fred kicked the table leg hard, scattering parchment and quills everywhere.
Their "Lockhart Project" had slammed into a brick wall.
To make the smiling face in Lockhart's photo appear more vivid and more bewitching, they needed an extremely rare high-grade developing potion.
After scouring every potions book they could find, they finally unearthed the coveted recipe in a neglected corner.
But one core ingredient plunged them into despair—
ground powder made from the dried horn of an Erumpent.
"This stuff's harder to get than dragon liver!"
Fred paced restlessly in front of the fireplace, the firelight stretching and shrinking his shadow against the wall.
"The book says the only place to buy even the tiniest pinch is in the most specialized apothecaries of Knockturn Alley—and the price is so outrageous, it could bankrupt Honeydukes!"
George slumped in an armchair, staring blankly at the ceiling, a failed Lockhart photo hanging limply in his hand, unchanged and lifeless.
"Our project's finished, Fred."
"Wait…"
George's body suddenly went rigid. He shot upright, as though lightning had flashed through his mind. His eyes locked onto Fred, blazing with sudden light.
"I remember… I swear I remember…"
His words tumbled out fast, full of desperate excitement.
"Hagrid! One time when he was drunk, he bragged to us that he once treated an injured Erumpent—resetting its broken horn out in the Forbidden Forest!"
At that moment, two threads of discovery unfolded in different corners of Hogwarts.
One—Alan's search for the lost, ancient, and most pristine form of defensive magic: the Intent Rune.
The other—the twins' quest to forge the most aggressive and unprecedented weapon of "mental pollution."
One path sought protection.
The other—chaos.
One represented the pinnacle of magical theory.
The other—the zenith of prankster artistry.
And yet, these two seemingly parallel lines, never meant to intersect, had by chance converged on the same point.
The Hogwarts gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid—
and his small, warm hut by the Forbidden Forest, crammed with magical beasts, dangerous plants, and endless possibilities.
Both the twins and Alan's eyes, separately, turned toward that hut at the forest's edge.
But in Alan's Mind Palace, countless chains of logic were still running at lightning speed—ultimately reaching a conclusion entirely different.
He would act.
But not now.
And certainly not by going to Hagrid.
~~----------------------
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