Penello acted quickly and officially began working on the paper the very next day. She attached great importance to the assignment that Allen had given her. After class today, she planned to go to the library, gather information, and formally start writing.
On her way, however, Penello was stopped by a drenched Percy Weasley.
"Penello, listen! I have something very important to tell you," he said, clearly anxious.
Lately, Percy's luck had been unusually terrible. His right hand, the one he used for writing, seemed cursed—scratched by accidents whenever he attempted to study. While walking, he frequently collided with obstacles or was splashed by Filch as the caretaker cleaned. His instincts screamed that something was off, but he couldn't figure out why. Even the school hospital had been unable to find a clear cause, only asking whether he had recently been in contact with any magical creatures.
Magical creatures? Percy had no way of encountering them—there were no respectable careers involving magical beasts, and it wasn't even on his study list. His current hospital visit had ended in being covered with mucus from a student suffering a cold. Still, despite the misfortunes, Percy had tracked Penello down.
"Mr. Weasley, what's wrong? You don't seem well," Penello said politely. "Maybe you should go back to the hospital."
"No, I just left the school hospital. I'm fine," Percy replied, taking a deep breath. "Penello, I really have something important to tell you..."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley," Penello interrupted, feeling anxious. "I have to get to the library. Can we talk later if it's really important?"
As a sixth-year student, her schedule was packed. Between academics, prefect duties, and assisting at the School of Management, there was barely any time left for her thesis. She needed to race against time if she hoped to finish before graduation.
"Is this about Allen Cecil?" Percy asked, reluctant but insistent.
Penello froze at the name.
"What do you mean?" she asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice. Allen's research results were highly confidential, and she had not shared them with anyone—not even her closest friends. Yet somehow, Percy knew there was a connection.
"It seems I guessed right," Percy said, seeing the slight change in her expression. Bitter frustration laced his voice. That guy—Allen—had been a troublemaker from the start, and now he had somehow interfered in Percy's pursuit of someone else. It was infuriating.
Hearing Percy's confirmation, Penello felt a small measure of relief. He didn't know the specifics, and she still wanted Allen's research kept secret for her own reasons.
"Sorry, Mr. Weasley, I really have to go," she said softly, beginning to leave.
But Percy blocked her path again. "Penello! You can't get too close to Allen Cecil! That arrogant guy will mislead you!"
Even Penello, usually calm and polite, frowned.
"Mr. Weasley," she said calmly, "I feel it is my right to choose my own friends. No one has the right to dictate that for me."
Her words were unusually firm, bordering on a rebuke for someone like her, who seldom conflicted with others. Percy's face paled instantly.
Passing him with her books in hand, she added in a cold tone, "Also, Mr. Weasley, we aren't that familiar. I hope you will address me by my last name."
With that, Penello walked away gracefully, leaving Percy standing there in stunned silence.
At that moment, Allen happened to walk by, holding an apple. Seeing Percy's dejected expression, Allen's face broke into a triumphant smile.
He had never spoken ill of Percy in front of Penello. Who was Penello? A top Ravenclaw student, well-educated and discerning—idle gossip wouldn't impress her. Even if Percy targeted him, Allen had been careful to maintain sincerity in his interactions with Penello. Yet Percy, frustrated by his string of misfortunes, had foolishly demeaned himself in front of her.
"I thought I might need to use the curse a few more times, but it went surprisingly smoothly," Allen thought as he bit into the apple, savoring the sweetness of victory.
Time passed slowly. During this period, Hagrid had become extremely vigilant due to Allen's provocations. He now patrolled the grounds three times daily and increased the protection of the Forbidden Forest. Allen, however, had no intention of entering the forest—he simply planned to wait for Hagrid to stop patrolling before making his next move.
Recently, Allen had become obsessed with studying. He attended classes diligently and occasionally helped Professor Sprout in the greenhouse, organizing plants and collecting ingredients. When he had free time, he often studied in the Room of Requirement with Penello, discussing aspects of their thesis in depth.
Allen paid attention to all his classes, from flying lessons to history of magic, but his greatest focus was Potions. Professor Severus Snape, known for his strictness and his secret targeting of Harry, provided ample opportunity for Allen's quiet amusement.
Allen enjoyed observing Snape pick on Harry, deducting Gryffindor points, and calculating the teacher's reactions. "Deduct all you want," he thought, "if I frown, it will just seem naive." He noted that since Harry's arrival, Gryffindor consistently received high marks each year for various reasons. Instead of obsessing over scores, it was far better to focus on Potions.
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