The next morning, breakfast in the Great Hall was loud as usual until the moment Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat.
The Hall gradually became silent.
Dumbledore's expression was calm—as always—but there was a weight behind his eyes that hadn't been there the night before.
"My dear students," he began, voice carrying effortlessly across the Hall, "I regret to inform you that Professor Blackwood will no longer be teaching at Hogwarts."
The student started to whisper.
Once it was silent again, he continued.
"He has departed the school due to… personal reasons. Until a replacement is found, Defense Against the Dark Arts will proceed as self-study under faculty supervision."
The Hall erupted.
Questions. Gasps. Shocked exclamations. Even a few nervous laughs from students who didn't quite know how to process the news.
At the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang slowly turned her head.
Her eyes locked onto Alexander.
He continued eating his breakfast like nothing had happened. Calm and unbothered, as the news was nothing new.
Cho leaned closer.
"What happened?" she whispered.
Alexander didn't even look up from his plate.
"I am not allowed to say," he replied evenly, "but let's just say… I was correct."
Cho frowned, thinking.
Her mind replayed conversations and tried to think if anything stood out. Then she remembered Alexander's letter to his parents and how he had always watched Blackwood during class.
Her eyes widened slightly.
She leaned even closer, voice dropping to a near breath.
"Blackwood was really a Death Eater?"
Alexander finally glanced at her.
His expression gave nothing away.
"I cannot accept or deny that he was or was not a Death Eater," he said calmly. "That is up to the professors and Headmaster Dumbledore to decide."
Cho stared at him, stunned.
Before she could press further, Alexander finished his drink, stood, and adjusted his robes.
"Class time."
He walked off as if they'd just discussed homework.
Cho sat frozen for a moment… then hurried after him, still processing what she'd just heard—and what he hadn't said.
Despite the explosive announcement, Hogwarts had a way of returning to normal faster than expected.
Classes resumed.
Assignments piled up.
Students complained about essays instead of conspiracies.
Defense Against the Dark Arts turned into supervised reading sessions, practical drills led by other professors, and a lot of independent study. Many students were nervous—but others secretly enjoyed the lighter structure.
Alexander moved through the day as usual.
Attending classes.
Taking notes.
Training quietly when time allowed.
But nightfall was where things became… less ordinary.
The castle corridors echoed with faint laughter.
Alexander and the Weasley twins—Fred and George—continued their now-legendary game of magical hide-and-seek.
It had evolved far beyond a simple children's game.
Illusion charms.
Decoy footsteps.
Fake portraits that whispered wrong directions.
At one point, George had enchanted a suit of armor to sprint down a hallway just to create a distraction.
Alexander countered by vanishing into layered shadow concealments so precise that even the Marauder's Map struggled to track him.
The twins loved every second of it.
"You're cheating," Fred accused one night, breathless from running.
"It's only cheating," Alexander replied from somewhere unseen, "if you get caught."
George spun in a circle. "He's definitely behind—"
Alexander appeared between them.
"Hello."
The twins jumped.
Then grinned.
The game continued.
While those nightly battles raged, another plot brewed in secret.
The trio had gathered in their usual planning spot, parchment spread across the table.
Fred tapped the page dramatically.
"Gentlemen… we have a seasonal opportunity."
George nodded solemnly.
"A profitable one."
Alexander leaned back. "Valentine's Day."
The twins pointed at him in unison.
"Exactly."
Their goal?
Make money.
Lots of it.
They brainstormed relentlessly.
Love-themed prank sweets.
Color-changing roses that screamed compliments.
Perfume bombs that exploded into glitter hearts.
Enchanted chocolates that made the eater recite poetry for thirty seconds.
George scribbled ideas rapidly.
Fred handled supply lists.
Alexander handled logistics—and funding.
At one point, he slid a parchment across the table.
George blinked. "What's this?"
"A special gift for that night," Alexander said casually.
Fred picked it up… then did a double take.
"International shipping?"
He nodded.
"Some specialty items aren't available in Britain. I had them delivered from the United States."
The twins stared at him as he'd just revealed forbidden treasure.
"You imported special supplies," George whispered reverently.
"Bulk quantities," Alexander confirmed.
Fred wiped a fake tear. "I've never been more proud to know you."
Over the next week, their stockpile grew.
Boxes disguised as textbooks.
Packages rerouted through Owl Post under false labels.
The Room of Requirement—temporarily repurposed—slowly transformed into a Valentine's production workshop.
Pink smoke.
Test explosions.
Prototype sweets.
George accidentally drank a love potion labeled as a courage potion. The sample was meant for testing, and he spent ten minutes complimenting a chair.
Fred declared it "market viable."
Alexander simply took notes.
Business was business.
By the time February approached, they were ready.
Products prepared.
Prices set.
Distribution planned.
And demand?
Guaranteed.
After all… nothing sold better at Hogwarts than love, embarrassment, and chaos—especially when combined.
As Alexander looked over the final inventory sheet, he had a satisfied smile.
Professor Blackwood's departure had shaken the school.
But life moved forward.
Classes continued.
And soon—
Hogwarts would experience its most profitable Valentine's Day yet.