"Ah! I haven't seen you in weeks, why did you change your hairstyle? Cutting it so short—I almost didn't recognize you!" Vivian quickly tried to pivot when Alan brought up the report.
Seeing her attempt to dodge the subject, Alan simply fixed her with a flat, expectant glare.
Under the weight of his stare, Vivian eventually cracked. "You mean that exclusive? It just so happened that I ran into a reporter at the banquet, and he was absolutely desperate for a scoop on you." She paused, trying to sound reasonable. "You wouldn't believe it—back then, rumors about you were worth a fortune, so..."
"So you sold me out?" Alan asked, deadpan.
"Don't make it sound so mercenary! I was doing it for your own good. Think of the publicity! You're a household name in the Wizarding World now!" Vivian chuckled, trying to gloss over the betrayal with a wave of her hand.
"Hosting barbecue parties every day and torturing classmates with 'non-human' training—is that the kind of fame you had in mind for me? And why was half of that article about your Mahjong club?" Alan asked.
"That reporter was taking creative liberties! It had nothing to do with me!" Vivian argued loudly. "Besides, he was genuinely interested in the club. That's why he wrote all that."
Vivian was shamelessly muddling through, and Alan realized he was truly helpless against her brand of audacity. Just then, Charles and William walked into the carriage.
"Perfect timing. Everyone, take a seat," Alan said as soon as they appeared. He immediately began pulling equipment from his spatial pouch.
"What's going on? And why the haircut? I thought the long hair was quite elegant," Charles said curiously, though he obediently sat down as directed.
"I need a favor."
Alan produced a small wooden stand holding several test tubes, followed by sealed medical syringes, iodine, and cotton swabs.
"W-what are you doing?" Vivian, having grown up in the Muggle world, immediately recognized the blood-drawing kit. Her eyes went wide with fear.
"Don't be nervous. I'm just conducting a physical exam to map your magic reserves." Alan grabbed her arm, his expression completely neutral.
"No! Stay back! I was wrong—I shouldn't have given those interviews to the gossip rags! Just don't draw my blood, I'm terrified of needles!"
She watched in horror as Alan rolled up her sleeve and efficiently applied disinfectant to her inner arm. Despite her frantic pleading and struggling, it was futile. Alan held her firmly, his voice stern. "Don't move. If I miss the vein because you're squirming, I'll have to stick you a second time."
"It's in! No, it hurts! It's flowing—my blood is actually flowing out!" Vivian looked ready to burst into tears. Alan ignored the theatrics, steadily drawing half a test tube of blood before withdrawing the needle.
Charles and William watched the procedure, paralyzed with awe. Although they had been slacking off during the summer, they hadn't expected to be met with clinical phlebotomy upon their return. After labeling Vivian's sample with a satisfied nod, Alan turned to the boys.
"Your turn. Don't worry, it'll be over in a second. See? Vivian isn't crying anymore."
"Wait, explain this," Charles said, looking confused and wary. "What exactly is the purpose here? This isn't some sort of Dark Arts research, is it?"
"I told you, I'm testing your magic reserves. Why are you so jumpy?" Alan said, reaching for Charles's arm.
Ten minutes later.
Alan was neatly organizing the rack of test tubes, looking quite pleased, while his friends looked like they had just survived a harrowing ordeal. As children of the Wizarding World, they found this behavior utterly bizarre. They had been taught from infancy that blood was a powerful medium for curses and Dark magic; they only allowed it because of their deep trust in Alan.
Still, the confusion remained.
"We're wizards, Alan. Since when did you become a doctor? Even if you wanted to do blood tests, you don't have the machinery for it," Vivian said, her resistance fading now that the pain was over.
"Just watch." Alan offered a slight smile and produced another device.
It was a platter-sized object that resembled a mirror without a reflection—or perhaps a sleek electronic scale. It had a smooth circular surface in the center and two digital display boxes at the bottom. He handed it to Vivian. "Put your hand on it."
"What is this? Are you going to do something else weird to me?" She was genuinely suspicious now. This summer seemed to have turned him into a collector of strange gadgets.
"This part doesn't hurt, I promise."
Vivian hesitantly placed her palm on the plate. A ripple of magic hummed through the device, extending from her hand through her entire body like a pulse. Within seconds, a set of values flickered onto the display. Alan recorded them instantly.
He then produced a dropper-like tool, calibrated it, and inserted it into the tube of Vivian's blood. The tool drew a precise amount. Once Alan connected the dropper to the circular plate with a silver wire, a second value appeared on the display.
"One hundred and sixty-eight units? That's barely the level of a third-year freshman," Alan said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Your foundation was clearly neglected. I'll have to push you much harder this term."
"What? What does that even mean?" Vivian asked, a heavy sense of dread settling in her stomach.
"This is my newly developed Magic Measurement Device 2.0," Alan said, holding up the plate. "The circular plate calculates your total body blood volume, while the dropper measures the specific magic density within a controlled sample. Through my research this summer, I discovered that the magic reserves held in a wizard's blood account for exactly half of their total capacity. By measuring the density in the sample and cross-referencing it with your total blood volume, I can calculate your exact total magic reserves."
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