"You!" Wendy's face shifted through a spectrum of colors as she listened to Alan, her indignation rapidly turning into alarm.
"How do you know all this?" It never felt good to have one's private life exposed, especially her carefully guarded romantic interests. Wendy glared at Alan with a look of sharp displeasure.
Alan didn't answer her directly. Instead, he turned his gaze to the other two, reading smoothly from his clipboard.
"Louis Orleton, sixth-year, pure-blood. Your ancestors are the three Orleton brothers who founded the Cleansweep Broom Company. As direct descendants of Barnaby Orleton, your parents own a significant portion of the company's shares. Top subjects: Astronomy and Transfiguration. Secondary subjects: Charms and Arithmancy. You passed your O.W.L.s in these fields. Hobby: Quidditch, though due to average skill, you were never selected for the House team."
"For a sixth-year, your academic standing is respectable," Alan commented objectively.
Ignoring Louis's darkening expression, he turned to the final person, the fifth-year female Prefect.
"Jenny Moriah, fifth-year, half-blood. Your mother is a Muggle and your father is a pure-blood wizard currently working in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, specifically the Muggle-Worthy Excuses Committee. Top subjects: Charms and Muggle Studies. Secondary subjects: Ancient Runes, Potions, and Transfiguration. You have a high probability of securing top marks in your O.W.L.s this year. Hobby: Almost exclusively reading. Likely due to your parents' influence, you have a deep intellectual interest in the Muggle world."
"From an academic perspective, you are the most outstanding in your year. Professor Flitwick has mentioned you to me; you will be receiving an invitation to the Charms Club this term." Alan offered a small, thin smile. Jenny was one of the most studious witches he had ever tracked.
Jenny didn't react with the same hostility as the others. Instead, she flushed a deep red and lowered her head timidly, whether out of embarrassment from the praise or excitement over the Charms Club invitation, it was hard to tell.
"What exactly is your goal, investigating us like this?" Louis asked, a chill running down his spine as he watched Alan recite their backgrounds as casually as if he were counting spare change.
"This is just the surface level. It isn't thorough," Alan said, shaking his head. "I haven't had the time for magic power mapping, physical assessments, or psychological stress tests yet. My data is still quite sparse."
"We are asking what you want from us, not whether your files are complete!" Wendy snapped, unconsciously aligning herself with Louis to confront Alan.
"You don't need to know my long-term goals. You only need to know that from this moment on, you will follow my arrangements and obey my instructions. I value execution and efficiency above all else." Alan's sharp gaze swept over the three of them, gauging their reactions.
"Why? Because you're a war hero? That was a year ago. Don't you think it's a bit much to go around prying into people's private lives?" Ever since Alan had exposed her relationship, Wendy had been fuming.
"Exactly. We're all Prefects, and we're a year older than you. Why should we take orders from you?" Louis added, bolstered by Wendy's defiance.
Jenny remained silent, fiddling with her fingers. As a textbook introvert, she had no interest in joining the argument.
"So you do remember you're Prefects?" Alan looked up, his voice cold. "I'd like to know what responsibilities you've actually bothered to fulfill."
"Wendy. Every day, when you aren't gathering a circle of friends to gossip over beauty potions, you're either trysting with Nord Baron or using the Student Council patrol schedule to sneak off with him during the night watch. Your 'secret' relationship is common knowledge among the Slytherin girls."
"Want to know how the secret got out? It's your owl. The bird is incompetent. Every time it delivers a love letter, it drops it into the wrong dormitory. Your housemates, wanting to spare you the embarrassment, quietly slip them back into your room later. But since your letters are almost never sealed, they've been read and passed around by every girl in the House by the time they reach your hands."
"What?" Wendy froze, her entire body turning stiff. She had thought Alan exposing her today would be her social death, but she realized she had been "socially dead" to the entire House for a long time—she was simply the last to know.
"As for you, Louis." Alan turned his chilling gaze toward the boy. "When you aren't playing with celestial models in the Astronomy Tower, you're bothering the Quidditch players to show off your family's experimental Cleansweep prototypes. Unfortunately, your flying is so lackluster that even with the Captain's favor, you can't even make the reserve list."
"And whenever it's time for patrol, you slack off and head to the tower to stargaze. Wendy's dereliction can be attributed to a lack of focus; yours is simple laziness. You don't take the work seriously at all."
Alan's reprimand was harsh, leaving the seniors stung.
Louis, his face beet-red, argued back loudly, "What do you know? You don't understand how it is in Slytherin! Do you think I want it to be like this?"
"Last year, the senior Prefects didn't care about anything! The Head of House is never around! We were just newly appointed, and we had no authority to change anything."
"The students in this House don't listen to Prefects. Everyone only looks out for themselves. Even if we were diligent, what would it change? Instead of wasting time on them, it's better to focus on our own interests."
Louis's voice was filled with a bitter, genuine disappointment. It was a sentiment that resonated with most of Slytherin: *look after yourself, because no one else will.* These Prefects had fallen into a mental trap where apathy felt like the only logical response to a broken system.
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