Alister: Right. Old man, I really don't want this research to be buried.
Alister: And knowing the Headmaster, if he catches wind of a safe method to cast soul-rending curses, he won't allow it to be known. He'll throw me out of Hogwarts and try to suppress it immediately to 'protect the greater good.'
Alister: So, how about a partnership? You publish the research on the forum under your name. You're already known as a Dark Lord. A Grindelwald won't have any problem releasing a revolutionary thesis on Dark Arts mitigation. Right?
Alister: We split the resulting profit 50/50. let's set the price at 50 credits.
Gellert: I can accept your proposal. Furthermore, you may keep the entirety of the profit. 100 percent. I have no shortage or use of credits.
Alister's internal alarm bells, which had just begun to quiet down after Drake's demonstration, instantly began ringing again. A Dark Lord giving up all the profits? there's is no such good thing in the world.
Gellert: However, I do have one request in exchange. A simple condition. I assure you, it is not excessive.
Alister barely suppressed a physical sigh. I am getting a very strong feeling that these shares are going to be incredibly hard to swallow, he thought, bracing himself.
Alister: Ok. Go ahead and tell me. What's the request?
Gellert: Remember our last conversation. I was entirely serious about the file I sent you.
Gellert: Artoria has something profoundly special about her. You have likely already sensed it. Because of this, she is a target. I need to find a reliable and trustworthy partner for her. I will not have her suffer a life surrounded by sycophants and opportunists constantly trying to get close to her just to exploit her gifts or her name.
Alister stared at the floating blue text, his mind momentarily stalling.
Alister: Uh... how exactly is all that related to me getting engaged to her? I'm not a bodyguard.
Gellert: With the speed at which I am seeing you grow, it is only a matter of time before you surpass my peak. You are ruthless, brilliant, and most importantly you are entirely unburdened by Dumbledore's fragile morality.
Gellert: You being her fiancé is the perfect shield for her. No one in this world would be able to escape after scheming against her with you by her side.
'This old guy,' Alister thought, a begrudging sense of respect warring with his irritation. 'He really got me good this time.'
Grindelwald is really a master in manipulation, worthy of being the greatest dark lord.
Alister: Ok. You can prepare the thesis and add my understanding of the mana circulation method I'm sharing with you.
Gellert: Hahaha, I knew I could count on you, brat. Don't worry, consider this thesis done.
With a sharp mental command, Alister severed the connection.
Without realizing it, Alister let out a long, incredibly loud sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a phantom headache beginning to form behind his eyes.
Cho, who was beside him, leaned in closer. Her dark eyes were filled with a mixture of exasperation and genuine concern.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, keeping her voice low so as not to draw Drake's attention. "You have been sighing since morning."
Alister dropped his hand, offering her a tired, wry smile.
"Don't ask," Alister muttered, his voice laced with profound exhaustion. "This semester is going to be a huge pain when my first day is already like this."
Soon, the rest of the hour passed. When Drake finally dismissed them with his trademark warm, yet deeply unsettling smile, there was a collective, audible sigh of relief.
Alister stood up as he slung his bag over his shoulder, methodically sorting his parchment, quills, and the heavy tomes he carried.
He turned to Cho, who was rubbing her temples.
"Well, I'm off," Alister said smoothly.
"Alister, it's really amazing that you have been going over to Professor Snape's office for months," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "After surviving just one hour of this... how can you handle his venomous words on top of everything else?"
Alister paused, his hand resting casually on the strap of his bag.
"If you get to know him," Alister replied softly, keeping his voice low as the last few students filtered out of the classroom, "you can see that the professor is just cold on the outside to prevent anyone from approaching him."
He leaned slightly against the wooden desk.
"It can be because he doesn't want anyone to see his fragile side, or simply because he doesn't find any person who's actually worth his time. The venom is just a filter to keep the idiots away."
Cho, who had been nodding along thoughtfully, suddenly froze. Her hands stopped midway through buckling her bag. She slowly raised her head, her dark eyes narrowing into two dangerous slits.
"Wait a second," Cho said, her voice dropping to a dangerously quiet pitch. "Are you referring to me as an idiot too?"
Alister stopped halfway to the door. He turned back slowly, and a slow, highly mischievous smirk began to spread across his face.
"Cho, please," Alister said, his tone dripping with exaggerated sincerity. "I would never insult the intelligence of a proud Ravenclaw. I am simply drawing conclusion from past events."
Cho crossed her arms. "What past events?"
"That your potions have a historically documented sixty percent chance of emitting foul-smelling green smoke the second Professor Snape steps within a five-foot radius of your cauldron"
Cho's jaw dropped indignantly. Her cheeks flushed pink. "That was one time in First year! And Marietta bumped my arm!"
"And the time you accidentally created a minor localized blizzard in the dungeon because you misread 'crushed' for 'diced'?"
"That wasn't my fault!" Cho protested, grabbing a rolled-up piece of parchment from her desk. "Professor breathes down your neck like a giant, greasy bat! It throws off my concentration!"
"The venom filter works in mysterious ways," Alister nodded sagely, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"You're insufferable," Cho huffed. Without warning, she chucked the rolled-up parchment directly at his head with impressive speed.
Alister didn't flinch. He casually tilted his head as the parchment whizzed past his ear and bounced harmlessly off the stone doorframe.
"That I am," Alister admitted, flashing her a wicked grin. "See you later at dinner."
"I'm going to poison your pumpkin juice!" she called out after him, though the threat was completely ruined by the reluctant laugh escaping her lips.
"Looking forward to it!" Alister shouted back, stepping out into the bustling corridor as his mood significantly lightened after the conversation.
Near the potion classroom the air grew progressively cooler, carrying the faint, permanent scent of pickled toad biles and crushed herbs.
Alister reached the heavy wooden door of the Potions classroom, fully expecting to find it locked or to hear the sharp, echoing snap of Snape failing a student in detention.
Instead, the door was cracked open just an inch, and a soft, steady orange glow spilled out into the dark corridor from a simmering cauldron inside.
Alister paused. His heightened senses picked up two distinct but familiar magical signatures. One was undeniably the heavy and controlled aura of Severus Snape and surprisingly another one belonged to Astra.
Ready to step in and rescue her from whatever horrific verbal lashing she was undoubtedly receiving, Alister nudged the door open just a fraction more to peer inside.
What he saw completely short-circuited his brain and made him doubt his own eyes.
The classroom was empty, only two of them were standing side by side at Snape's personal workstation at the front of the room. Astra was holding a silver knife, looking intently at a pile of Valerian roots.
"No, Miss Potter," Professor Snape's voice drifted out into the corridor.
Aister waited for the predictable 'foolish girl,' the 'dunderhead,' or the classic 'ten points from Ravenclaw for sheer incompetence.'
It never came.
"The roots must be bruised with the flat of the blade before you cut them," Snape continued. His tone wasn't a malicious hiss; it was low, even, and entirely instructional. There was no venom. He actually reached out, his long, pale fingers gently adjusting the angle of Astra's knife. "If you merely chop them, you trap the essential oils inside the fiber. The Draught will lack potency. Try again. Gently, this time."
Astra nodded eagerly, her face illuminated by the cauldron's glow. She pressed the flat of the silver blade against the root until it yielded with a soft crackle, then sliced it cleanly.
"Like this, Professor?" she asked, looking up at him.
Snape inspected the cut root for a moment. "Adequate," he murmured. "Add them to the cauldron and stir precisely three times counter-clockwise."
Out in the corridor, Alister was staring so hard without blinking that his eyes were starting to dry up.
Adequate? This is a work Snape should be completely unfamiliar with.
"Unbelievable," Alister thought, rubbing his temples.
He had literally just spent ten minutes explaining to Cho that Snape's toxic personality was an impenetrable filter designed to keep everyone away. And here was his little sister, happily brewing a volatile potion with the Dungeon Bat.
He briefly considered scaning Snape for the Polyjuice Potion or the Imperius Curse, because the sight of the terrifying Potions Master patiently mentoring a first-year was almost more unsettling than Dumbledore's chocolate roaches.
Alister was still mentally drafting a dozen different theories to explain this bizarre phenomenon when the atmosphere in the classroom shifted violently.
The faint, almost imperceptible softening around snape's dark eyes vanished instantly, replaced by his usual cold mask. His head snapped toward the slightly ajar door.
"Who's there?!"
Snape barked as his hand shot toward the inner pocket of his billowing black robes, his pale fingers already wrapping around the hilt of his wand with lethal speed.
Astra jumped in surprise, her silver knife clattering loudly against the wooden workbench.
Knowing better than to test snape's reflexes who is used to being paranoid. Alister immediately pushed the heavy oak door open with his shoulder and stepped fully into the classroom. He raised both hands in the air in a gesture of exaggerated, mock surrender, a charming, entirely unapologetic smirk plastered across his face.
"Wait, wait, Professor," Alister announced brightly. "Don't shoot. It's only me, your favorite student."
Snape's wand halted halfway out of his robes. His dark, glittering eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as he took in the sight of the older Potter sibling. The heavy, oppressive aura in the room was broken by Astra's shout.
"Brother!" Astra beamed, completely unbothered by the lethal tension suddenly bouncing between her brother and her professor. "You're just in time! Professor Snape was showing me how to properly extract Valerian oil without ruining the potion's base!"
END OF CHAPTER)
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