"Percy Weasley?"
Hearing the name, Allen raised his eyebrows.
His memory of the Harry Potter series wasn't especially sharp—he had read it when he was younger, and apart from the major story arcs, everything else was vague in his mind. Still, the name Percy Weasley stirred up a faint recollection.
Allen remembered that Percy had experienced some romance before eventually getting married. If he wasn't mistaken, Percy had dated someone during his school years, and that person was supposedly a Ravenclaw prefect.
Excluding the possibility that Percy had a boyfriend back at school, then… could the quiet, elegant girl in front of him actually be Percy Weasley's ex-girlfriend?
Allen quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. No. From now on, I'll declare it's definitely not the case.
He rubbed his chin, pondering whether he should ask Fred and George to "help out" by keeping Percy busy.
"What are you thinking about, being so absorbed?"
A hand waved in front of his eyes, snapping him back to reality. Penelope Clearwater tilted her head, a mischievous smile on her face. "With that grin, you look like you're plotting something bad."
Allen blinked and forced a casual smile. "Yeah, I was just thinking about how to ask you, senior sister, to show me around Hogwarts a bit more. This castle is enormous, and I'm honestly worried I'll get lost."
That excuse slipped out smoothly, but then something clicked in his mind. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "By the way, senior sister, after being here so long, have you ever heard about a mysterious room inside Hogwarts?"
Penelope's brows arched. "A mysterious room?" Her Ravenclaw curiosity immediately sparked. "I've never heard any rumors about that. Where did you hear it?"
Allen waved a hand nonchalantly. "From a wizard in Diagon Alley, actually. He liked the food I made and chatted with me when he was bored. He mentioned that Hogwarts Castle has a special room that changes itself to suit a person's needs."
"Sounds like the story of Aladdin's lamp…" Penelope mused, her tone thoughtful. Then she suddenly paused, as though catching herself, and looked back at him with a teasing smile. "Ah, but that's a Muggle tale. You probably don't know it."
Allen chuckled softly. "Oh, but I should count as a half-Muggle wizard, right? I grew up in an orphanage. I don't even know who my parents are." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "To be honest, that kind of background doesn't seem to be very popular—especially with some pure-blood families. How dare a so-called 'noble' wizard look down on me."
The first half of his words made Penelope's heart tighten with sympathy, but the second half nearly made her laugh aloud.
"What are you saying…" she covered her mouth, unsure whether to laugh or scold. "Of course they'd look down on people like us—it's practically tradition. But I heard something about you…" Her expression turned curious. "Didn't you rough up a pure-blood kid before sorting? Is that how you got your wand?"
Allen sighed dramatically. "Helpless, really. He provoked me first. If I didn't fight back, he would've thought I was easy prey. Can you imagine the arrogance? He actually tried to order me to be his personal chef." He rolled his eyes. "I don't think I broke any school rules by refusing to bow and scrape like that."
Penelope's eyes widened in shock, her voice urgent. "Allen, you need to be careful. It's best to avoid direct conflict with pure-blood families."
"That won't do." Allen's voice turned playful again, his lips tugging into a sly smile. "My motto is simple: ask myself fewer whys, and ask others more whys. Why exactly should I let them look down on me?"
His words were bold, arrogant even, but paired with his youthful face and mischievous glint, they came across as oddly endearing.
Penelope couldn't resist. She reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately.
Allen ducked away this time, straightening his posture. "Ahem, not everyone can touch my head, you know."
"Oh? Then who's allowed?" Penelope's smile deepened, her voice tinged with amusement.
"Only my girlfriend. If someone touches it, she has to take responsibility." His tone was serious, almost solemn.
"You cheeky little rascal—thinking about such things already?" Penelope laughed and deliberately messed up his hair again. "I touched you. So what? If you dare, then take responsibility for me."
Allen wriggled free from her grip and fixed her with a steady gaze. "Not yet. But someday, I'll make sure you take responsibility."
Penelope chuckled lightly, dismissing his words as childish banter. "Then I'll wait." She reached out and ruffled his head again, as though testing how far she could push him.
Truthfully, she found his hair wonderfully soft to the touch, but there were limits to how long she could tease him. With a reluctant sigh, she drew her hand back.
"Alright, enough playing around. Back to business. What exactly is this room that can meet people's requirements?"
Allen seized the chance to shift the conversation. "That man said it's called the Room of Requirement. The entrance is on the eighth floor of the castle."
Penelope's eyes lit up with curiosity.
The Room of Requirement—hidden, magical, able to transform itself into whatever a person needed most—was indeed a wondrous concept. For Allen, it seemed like the perfect place to forge a secret base. But he also knew that over Hogwarts' long history, countless students had stumbled upon it. Some had hidden things inside, leaving behind secrets spanning generations. Even a few house-elves were aware of its existence.
Still, to Allen, the place wasn't worth hoarding as a private secret. Better to share it with Penelope, use it as a bridge to deepen their bond.
And so, the two climbed the narrow spiral staircase to the eighth floor.
The stairway resembled a tower's winding steps, steep and tight. To keep Allen safe, Penelope held his hand firmly, guiding him along.
Allen, however, didn't feel lucky about it. If anything, he was a little annoyed. This is clearly her treating me like a child…
That wouldn't do. If opportunities didn't present themselves, he would simply have to create them.
Allen's lips curved into a faint smile. Quietly, he activated his unique ability—[Material Shuttle]. With precise control, he applied the effect to Penelope's foot just as she stepped forward.
Her shoe sank through the solid stone step as if the stair wasn't there at all.
"Ah!" Penelope gasped, her balance breaking as her body pitched forward.
Allen reacted instantly. His arms shot out, catching her waist with steady strength. Though his frame was still youthful, in that moment he seemed strong and dependable. He pulled her into his embrace, holding her firmly until her feet found solid ground again.
"Senior sister, are you alright?" His voice carried nothing but innocent concern.
Reality wasn't like television dramas—coincidences didn't just fall into one's lap. Opportunities belonged to those who prepared. Why wait for fate to hand you a chance when you could create it yourself?
Allen's eyes glinted slyly as he held Penelope close. Coincidence? No. This is what it means to seize the moment.
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