Dinner ended with the usual hum of conversation, though Alexander, Fred, and George didn't linger long.
They had somewhere else to be.
Detention.
Argus Filch stood waiting for them in the dimly lit Trophy Room, lantern in hand, expression sour as ever.
"Late again… always you three…" he muttered.
Fred checked the clock.
"We're early, actually."
Filch ignored him and shoved polishing rags into their hands.
"Every trophy. No magic."
The trio didn't complain.
At this point…
Polishing trophies was second nature.
Fred worked on one side of the room.
George took the other.
Alexander methodically handled the center display — efficient and precise.
Filch watched the entire time suspiciously.
Mrs. Norris prowled between shelves, eyes glowing in the low light.
Hours passed.
Metal gleamed.
Glass sparkled.
Finally—
Filch grunted.
"Done. Get out."
The moment they stepped outside the Trophy Room—
Fred grinned.
George cracked his knuckles.
Alexander adjusted his robe.
Game time.
They scattered through the corridors, beginning their now-legendary game of Hide-and-Seek vs. Filch & Mrs. Norris.
Filch's lantern light swept the hallways.
Mrs. Norris stalked silently along ledges and banisters.
The trio moved like shadows.
Fred created distractions.
George looped staircases.
Alexander used disillusionment and barrier fragments to redirect pursuit paths.
Once, Mrs. Norris nearly caught George—
Only for a silent micro-Protego to deflect her leap just enough.
The chase continued until the castle clocks chimed midnight.
They regrouped near a stairwell landing, slightly out of breath but grinning.
"Same time tomorrow?" Fred asked.
"Obviously," George said.
Alexander nodded once.
Then they called it a night.
The next day, Alexander was calmly in his seat, smiling at the professor in the front of class.
Professor Snape's robes flowed like living shadows.
"Review," he began coldly.
He went over the foundational potions from last year — technique, timing, ingredient handling.
Then he turned and wrote on the chalkboard:
Forgetfulness Potion
Instructions followed in sharp, precise strokes.
"Begin."
Cauldrons lit across the room.
Alexander and Cho partnered again.
Measured cuts.
Exact stirs.
Controlled flame.
Their potion turned the correct silvery-lavender hue well before the deadline.
Perfect.
Snape approached, inspecting.
His lip curled slightly.
"Of course. Mr. Chen. One might almost suspect you had nothing better to do than practice all summer."
The jab was clear.
Alexander didn't even pause and responded.
"Professor, I find it interesting that you continue to single out students with consistent hostility. One might say your Racist behaviors rivals that of the Sorting Hat."
The dungeon froze.
"Perhaps," Alexander continued, "we should examine whether prejudice is a recurring institutional issue."
Snape's eyes darkened dangerously.
"Ten points from Ravenclaw."
He turned and walked away without further engagement.
He did not bother Alexander again in class.
By the time class ended, whispers had already begun.
"Chen called Snape racist…"
"He's defending student rights now?"
"First the Hat, now professors…"
Alexander shrugged it off.
Cho laughed beside him.
"The rumors get more ridiculous every hour."
Greenhouses replaced dungeons.
Warm, humid air wrapped around students as Professor Sprout greeted them cheerfully.
"Today we study the Flutterby Bush!"
Delicate plants with fluttering, wing-shaped petals filled the tables.
Sprout began asking questions.
Alexander answered nearly every question.
Growth cycles.
Magical properties.
Harvest safety.
Sprout beamed.
"Ten points to Ravenclaw!"
Cho smiled proudly.
During practice, Alexander helped her and several Ravenclaws properly handle the bushes — avoiding petal shedding and root agitation.
Even Sprout nodded approvingly at his technique.
After lunch, their schedule opened.
Astronomy would be held late that night.
Cho headed to the library to finish homework.
Alexander returned to the dorms.
He lay down "just for a moment."
And immediately fell asleep.
His roommates shook him awake hours later.
"Alex! Astronomy!"
He groaned but got up.
Another year.
Another climb to the tower.
Stars stretched clear across the sky.
Professor Sinistra lectured about celestial positioning and chart mapping.
Alexander lasted about fifteen minutes before raising his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Chen?"
"With respect, Professor… this class remains strategically useless for practical magic."
A brief argument followed — not heated, but routine at this point.
Sinistra defended astronomical theory's importance.
Alexander countered with combat applicability metrics.
Students listened like it was entertainment.
Eventually, she dismissed his objections and continued lecturing.
By the time he returned to the dorms, the castle was quiet again.
Another day completed.
Games played.
Classes handled.
As he lay down to sleep, one thought lingered faintly—
Hogwarts Year Two had only just begun…
And the chaos has just begun.