Dinner had ended.
Students drifted back to their houses, still buzzing about the night's events. The tale of the "Hero Who Defeated the Racist Hat" was still being talked about.
But while most students were heading to bed…
Three figures moved through the castle corridors.
Alexander Chen.
Fred Weasley.
George Weasley.
They slipped through a side passage behind a tapestry, down a spiraling staircase, and into an abandoned storage hall long forgotten by staff.
Broken desks.
Old suits of armor.
Dust thick in the air.
And floating upside down near the ceiling—
Peeves.
The poltergeist spotted them instantly.
Swooped down dramatically.
The moment his feet touched the floor—
He bowed deeply.
"Young Master Chen!" he said, voice brimming with excitement. "Brilliant as always! Oh, I did enjoy the show!"
Fred snorted.
George wiped fake tears.
"A performance for the ages," Fred said.
"Art," George added.
Peeves clapped gleefully.
"I got everything! Every stomp! Every scream! Even the fire bit!"
He produced a large stack of enchanted photographs from thin air and handed them over like sacred relics.
The trio gathered around immediately.
Photo after photo flickered to life in their hands.
Alexander, mid-air shouting Accio Racist Hat.
The barrier dome expanding.
The twins reinforcing it.
Alexander upside down, punching the Hat.
The Hat on fire, screaming.
Fred nearly fell over laughing.
"These are priceless!"
George pointed at one frame.
"Look at Snape's face in this one!"
Even Alexander himself had a small smile.
Before Peeves floated off, Alexander spoke.
"Hey, Peeves."
The poltergeist snapped to attention instantly.
"Yes, Young Master?"
"Keep taking photos. If you get anything interesting, let me know. I'll buy it."
Peeves' grin widened dangerously.
"And if you need anything," Alexander added, "I'll get it for you."
Peeves bowed again — even deeper than before.
"Of course, Young Master Chen! I shall document chaos with the highest professional standards!"
With a manic cackle, he vanished through the ceiling.
The trio laid the photos across an old desk.
Fred rubbed his hands together.
"Time to work."
Alexander pulled out the potion to make them into motion pictures.
They began converting the images into motion pictures— short looping magical photographs where the action replayed continuously.
Barrier expansion.
Hat Stomping.
Hat on fire.
Each loop is more ridiculous than the last.
Fred organized piles:
"Personal collection."
George made another:
"Premium buyers."
Alexander created a third:
"Personal gifts."
They also set aside certain prints as favor tokens — gifts for allies who'd supported them or stayed quiet.
Fred looked up.
"We're going to make a fortune."
George nodded solemnly.
"Educational entrepreneurship."
Eventually, the work was done.
Alexander stretched and then started to rub his eyes.
"Not playing hide-and-seek tonight?" Fred asked.
Alexander shook his head.
"Stupefy hit harder than expected."
George smirked.
"Worth it though."
Alexander didn't deny it.
The twins left first, already discussing pricing tiers and exclusive editions.
They were practically glowing at the idea of tomorrow's profits.
Alexander returned quietly to his room.
The moment he opened the door—
Cheers erupted.
His roommates were waiting.
"LEGEND!"
"That was insane!"
"You actually stomped the Hat twice!"
Alexander sighed faintly but smiled.
"We'll talk tomorrow. Go to sleep."
They groaned but obeyed.
Before heading to bed, Alexander handed each of them a motion picture.
Their eyes lit up.
They bolted straight back out the door towards the common room to show everyone.
Alexander shook his head slightly.
Finally alone, he sat on his bed.
The aftereffects of Stupefy still lingered — heavy limbs, dull ache behind the eyes.
He lay back slowly.
Chaos accomplished.
Reputation reinforced.
Racist Hat educated.
Alexander fell asleep with a smile on his face.