"Then—cheers!" The Hogwarts Alchemy Group was officially founded amidst the pleasant clinking of Butterbeer bottles.
"Uncle Al, we've made some progress on the last alchemy assignment," Sirius said, already reaching into his robes to pull out the "communication parchment," his face full of pride.
The small group now used these enchanted parchments to contact one another within the castle—research and internal testing were progressing in tandem, and it was all remarkably convenient.
"This is… not the place to talk about that," Alphard said, casting a quick glance around the bar. The younger students might not have grasped the full implications of the Hog's Head, but Alphard was well aware of the kind of clientele these shady establishments attracted.
Regulus, however, understood even more deeply the real "value" behind inns bold enough to run illicit dealings in Hogsmeade—especially those that still operated under the watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.
...
"Excuse me, sir, do you have any rooms available? I'd like to book a larger one," Regulus asked calmly, a handkerchief wrapped around his face as he stood at the bar, his composure making a stark contrast to the awkwardly towering half-giant behind him.
Hmm? This is a bit unusual. Should I subtly alert Albus? Aberforth Dumbledore—the grumpy barman—scowled in his typical impatient fashion, but his mind was already turning over the situation.
"Money isn't an issue," James quickly added, seeing the bar owner's seemingly dazed hesitation.
Business is business. How could I refuse profit delivered straight to my door? Dumbledore gave a small grunt, pulled a large ring of old, rusty keys from the drawer, cast a firm glance around the smoky bar, and personally led them up the stairs.
Regulus: Hey, old man, didn't you forget to ask us for payment?
Under the ceiling, which felt particularly low due to Hagrid's presence—In the "most luxurious" suite of the Hog's Head Bar, the Little Wizards sat on wobbly chairs and creaky bed frames, chattering away as they reported on their recent alchemy progress.
Regulus shared the enchanted communication parchment with Hagrid and explained how he had drawn inspiration from Muggle telegraphs and other communication methods. Hagrid was deeply surprised and carefully tucked the parchment into his coat with great care.
If a craftsman wishes to do his work well, he must first sharpen his tools—and the ever-prepared Alphard had brought two small alchemical optical benches for them.
The surfaces were polished from a single piece of gem-like alchemical alloy, making them remarkably sturdy and with an exceptionally low margin for deflection.
One bench was given to Sirius, and Regulus—being the only one in Slytherin involved—naturally got to keep one all to himself.
"This minimises vibration and ensures maximum precision," Alphard explained. "You must keep it well. Even Bowman Wright of Godric's Hollow used a similar instrument back in the day—whether for broom-making or anything else, tools like this are indispensable."
"Ah! Mr Wright, the one who invented the Golden Snitch?!" James was in awe, his admiration reaching new heights. He gently stroked the surface of the optical bench with reverence, his expression akin to that of a devout pilgrim.
"I heard you grew up in Godric's Hollow too," Alphard added. "The foundations for crafting magical items there are quite strong; you'd do well to learn from the wizards around you."
Alphard then distributed basic alchemy lenses to each of them. Remus held his up solemnly towards the candlelight, and mysterious runes were projected onto the wall like silvery moonlight filtering through shifting clouds.
"You're interested in mapmaking, aren't you? These lenses are suitable for spatial magic."
There were also two head-mounted, heatless alchemical lamps; even on the lowest setting, they could cast an exceptionally strong light—
The highest setting could practically blind someone if shone directly in the eyes—Regulus privately noted that it could even be used as a weapon.
"Hagrid can use this while patrolling the Forbidden Forest at night," he said, firmly pressing the lamp into Hagrid's hands. The half-giant placed it on his head, beaming like an overgrown miner.
Sirius, meanwhile, picked up a small vial of alchemical ink shimmering with a golden glow. The smoky crystal bottle gleamed in his fingers. He had a feeling this was connected to their communication parchment project.
"This ink can expand the effective range of spells—it contains Romanian Longhorn blood," Alphard explained. "Many of Professor Dumbledore's alchemical essays are quite helpful. Look up Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood when you get the chance."
"You should also pay close attention in Potions. Alchemy and Potions are closely intertwined."
Doing alchemy really burned through Galleons. Without considerable financial support, it was nothing short of a fantasy. Watching Uncle Al generously hand out instruments and raw materials—each worth a small fortune—Regulus quietly vowed to repay him with all his might.
"Thank you, Uncle Al. We'll take good care of them!" he said solemnly, prompting the other young Gryffindors to nod in agreement.
...
Thanks to Alphard's somewhat confusing instruction style, the gentle giant Hagrid dozed off on the bed. They only woke him when Alphard was preparing to leave.
Hagrid, blinking sleepily, offered to walk Alphard out and reminded Regulus and the others to return to school on time.
He wasn't worried about their safety—Professor Dumbledore had told him the Hog's Head Inn could be trusted. And Hagrid trusted Dumbledore.
"Thank you for looking after my nephews," Alphard said kindly at the entrance of the Hog's Head in the fading twilight. The successful mediation between them was, of course, thanks to Regulus.
"And about the unicorn tail hair—if you ever need more alchemical bandages, just have Sirius or the others send word."
"I didn't do much," Hagrid said, scratching his head with a sheepish grin. These Black family lads were turning out to be rather decent.
"You and the one who now calls himself Voldemort were in the same year, weren't you?" Alphard asked suddenly, as if it had just occurred to him. "Regulus mentioned his real name is Tom Riddle."
Hagrid nearly tripped over his own feet. His face turned red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, but no sound came out.
All of it—left unsaid.
"I heard a bit about what happened back then..." Alphard added lightly. "Back in school, I was always off in my own world, never paid attention to all that House rivalry nonsense—the Chamber of Slytherin, the Heir, all that. And I certainly never connected that quiet and talented graduate Tom Riddle with Voldemort."
Hagrid hesitated. He wanted to speak up, but thinking of Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, he swallowed his words.
"The only reason I brought it up is because Regulus told me—he's sensed something strange about this Voldemort. Asked me whether it might be alchemical in nature. I haven't figured it out yet myself."
"That Riddle's not what he seems," Hagrid finally managed to say. "There's something very wrong about him. Something... evil."
"Well, young people are always drawn to things like secret chambers, treasure, magical power and such," Alphard said, sweeping his medium-length hair back casually. Several passing witches glanced his way. "I was the same, back then. Which is why I know—there's no use telling them otherwise—"
"Mr Hagrid, I'll have to trouble you to keep an eye on them."
Hagrid nodded earnestly."It's my job—just call me Rubeus!"
…
Couldn't keep an eye on them. Really couldn't.
As soon as the two adult wizards left, the four young and energetic Little Wizards immediately forgot all about fatigue from studying and entered a state of big scene, big goal, big picture.
Their curiosity, initiative, and persistence were truly admirable—Regulus, mature beyond his years, praised them silently.
"First, I've got some good news. Professor Slughorn's former student, Potion Master Damocles Alex Belby, has made a significant breakthrough on the Wolfsbane Potion."
Sirius and James turned to look at Remus in surprise—
For Lupin, who would once again be facing the full moon next week, this really was good news.
Poor Lupin's spirits visibly lifted; that was the power of hope.
"Don't worry—it was Severus who shared this with me. His intuition and talent in Potions are beyond doubt."
"I'll find a way to stay in touch with Belby through our Head of House and keep up with the progress."
Naturally, Regulus didn't mention that he had already written to Belby over the summer, reminding him to use aconite and absolutely not to add sugar. He just wanted to nudge the Master Potioneer a little closer to success.
"Of course, our Animagus plan is still proceeding in parallel. No one wants to drop out, right?"