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"Then—cheers to the future!"
The highly illegal, incredibly secretive Hogwarts Advanced Alchemy Group was officially established in the dim, goat-scented atmosphere of the Hog's Head Inn, accompanied by the cheerful clinking of dirty butterbeer bottles.
"Uncle Al, look at this. We've actually made some massive physical progress on the last theoretical Alchemy homework you assigned us," Sirius said. His handsome face was lit up with a rather proud, eager expression as he reached into his leather jacket, about to pull out the enchanted "communication parchment" to show off to his uncle.
The small group of cross-House boys were now actively, routinely using the encrypted parchment to silently contact each other across the heavily guarded castle. With Regulus acting as the product manager and Sirius running the internal R&D testing in parallel, the communication network was already proving to be incredibly, tactically convenient.
"Wait. This is... absolutely not the place to openly discuss or display proprietary magical technology," Alphard said sharply, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper as he quickly reached across the table and pushed Sirius's hand back down.
Alphard's sharp grey eyes darted suspiciously around the gloomy, smoke-filled pub. The sheltered little wizards present didn't fully understand the highly dangerous, criminal intricacies of the Hog's Head Inn, but Alphard intimately knew the lethal complexity of the specific patrons who frequented the illicit businesses in Hogsmeade.
But Regulus was entirely different. Unlike the naive Gryffindors, Regulus's modern, omniscient mind actually understood the political "gold content" of this specific pub better than anyone else in the room. He knew exactly who the grumpy bartender was, and he knew perfectly well that any establishment that "dared" to openly engage in illicit black-market businesses right under Albus Dumbledore's nose... was almost certainly secretly sanctioned or monitored by the Order of the Phoenix.
We definitely need privacy for this, Regulus thought. He stood up from the wobbly table.
"Boss. Do you happen to have any secure, private rooms available upstairs right now? I'd like to book the largest one you have," Regulus said smoothly, walking directly up to the sticky wooden bar.
With his black silk handkerchief still highly theatrically wrapped around the lower half of his aristocratic face, the boy's completely composed, commanding pureblood demeanor stood in stark, almost comical contrast to the massive, incredibly awkward, and highly nervous half-giant standing directly behind him.
Is this... is this completely normal behavior for a twelve-year-old? Aberforth Dumbledore thought, scrubbing a dirty glass. He wore his usual, highly impatient, grumpy scowl on the outside, but his sharp mind was racing frantically. A Black heir renting a secret room in my pub accompanied by my brother's gamekeeper? Do I need to send a Patronus and subtly hint about this to Albus?
"Money is absolutely not a problem," James Potter suddenly added loudly from the side. Seeing the grumpy bar owner's seemingly stunned and highly hesitant expression, the wealthy Gryffindor instantly pulled out a heavy, clinking pouch of pure gold Galleons and slammed it onto the wood.
Well. I'm a cynical businessman. How on earth can I possibly refuse highly lucrative, pureblood gold that literally walks itself right up to my door? Aberforth Dumbledore reasoned internally. He grunted, nodded stiffly, and reached deep into the drawer in front of him.
He pulled out a massive, clanking bunch of heavy, rusty iron keys. He surveyed the crowded, shady hall with a terrifying, stern glare that dared anyone to interfere, and then personally, silently led the strange group of wizards up the creaking, rotting wooden stairs.
(Regulus's internal monologue: Hey, you grumpy old goat, did you literally just forget to actually ask us to hand over the money before giving us the room?)
Upstairs, under a sagging, water-stained plaster ceiling that seemed particularly, dangerously low simply because Hagrid was standing in the room—
In what was supposedly the "most luxurious" private suite of the Hog's Head Inn (which merely meant it had a lock on the door and slightly fewer rats), the little wizards eagerly sat down on the wobbly wooden chairs and the moth-eaten bedframes. They immediately began chattering excitedly, proudly reporting on their complex Alchemy progress.
Regulus happily shared a blank sheet of the communication paper directly with Hagrid. He patiently explained that the complex magical mechanism was heavily inspired by Muggle transatlantic telegraphs and basic radio communications. This highly advanced, Muggle-friendly concept greatly, immensely surprised Hagrid, who looked at the paper with deep reverence before carefully, protectively tucking the parchment deep into his moleskin bosom.
As the ancient proverb says: If a craftsman truly wants to do his work well, he absolutely must first sharpen his tools. The highly prepared, deeply wealthy Alphard had specifically anticipated their needs. He unlatched his magically expanded leather briefcase and pulled out two incredibly heavy, highly specialized, small Alchemy optical benches for them to use. Their smooth, mirrored surfaces were flawlessly polished from a single, massive piece of gem-like, highly resistant alchemical alloy, making them incredibly sturdy work surfaces with absolutely zero magical deflection or structural vibration.
One heavy bench was given directly to Sirius to share with the Gryffindors. And Regulus, currently being the sole Slytherin representative in their little criminal enterprise, naturally got to claim the other massive bench entirely for himself and Severus.
"The sheer density of this specific alloy mathematically minimizes all localized physical vibrations and allows for extremely precise, microscopic runic carving," Alphard explained professionally, patting the metal. "You boys absolutely must keep these safely hidden and maintain them carefully. Even the legendary Bowman Wright from Godric's Hollow actively used a highly similar instrument back in the Middle Ages—when meticulously crafting the very first Golden Snitch and enchanting early flying brooms, they simply couldn't achieve the necessary aerodynamic precision without this exact tool."
"Ah! You mean the legendary Mr. Bowman Wright?! The actual, historical inventor of the Golden Snitch!?" James Potter gasped. His sheer, unadulterated Quidditch admiration had reached its absolute peak. He carefully, reverently reached out and gently stroked the polished surface of the optical bench, his awestruck expression exactly mirroring that of a devout religious pilgrim touching a holy relic.
"Yes. And I heard from Sirius that you also grew up in Godric's Hollow, James," Alphard said kindly, smiling at the boy's passion. "The historical foundation for crafting legendary magical items in that specific village is incredibly rich; if you pay attention, you can actually learn quite a bit of practical theory from the older wizards living around you."
Alphard then reached back into his briefcase and carefully handed out several thick, highly calibrated basic Alchemy magnifying lenses to them one by one. Remus solemnly held his heavy glass lens up to the flickering candlelight. Instantly, a series of complex, mysterious geometric runes etched into the glass were beautifully projected onto the filthy wallpaper, looking exactly like silver moonlight cutting through flowing clouds and mist.
"Sirius mentioned you were highly interested in advanced cartography and mapmaking, Remus?" Alphard asked. "Those specific lenses are mathematically calibrated and highly suitable for isolating and engraving complex spatial magic."
Next, he produced two heavy, highly industrial-looking head-mounted, heatless Alchemy miner's lamps. Alphard demonstrated that even on their absolute lowest magical setting, they could cast an extremely strong, piercing beam of pure white light—
Honestly, Regulus thought to himself, squinting as the beam swept past him, the absolute strongest setting of this specific lamp could practically, permanently blind someone if shined directly into their retinas during a duel... this could easily, tactically be used as a highly effective combat weapon.
"Hagrid, you can actively use this powerful lamp when safely patrolling the dark paths of the Forbidden Forest at night." Regulus stepped forward and forcefully handed his heavy lamp directly to Hagrid.
The half-giant immediately strapped the heavy leather band onto his massive head. He clicked the light on, looking absolutely, entirely delighted by the gift, exactly like a massive, highly enthusiastic Giant coal miner.
Sirius, meanwhile, used his fingertips to delicately pick up a small, incredibly heavy smoky crystal vial. It was filled to the brim with a thick, highly viscous Alchemy ink that shimmered with a terrifying, pulsing golden light. He immediately had a sharp, intuitive craftsman's hunch that this specific, highly volatile item was directly related to upgrading their communication paper project.
"That specific ink can aggressively, exponentially expand the localized geographic range of your embedded tracking spells; it has pure, highly volatile Romanian Longhorn dragon blood chemically added to the base," Alphard explained seriously, pointing to the vial. "If you want to understand the exact mechanics, many of Professor Dumbledore's early, published academic Alchemy papers are actually incredibly helpful on the subject. You boys should absolutely go to the library, find, and deeply read his famous thesis, 'The Twelve Uses for Dragon Blood'."
Alphard looked pointedly at Sirius. "And you absolutely must also study your standard Potions class well, Sirius. Advanced Alchemy and complex Potions are inherently, biologically inseparable."
Doing high-level Alchemy really, genuinely burns through a massive, terrifying amount of money! Regulus thought, his capitalist heart aching slightly. Without massive, generational family funds actively supporting the raw material costs, creating this technology is simply a total fantasy.
Regulus watched silently as Uncle Al generously, casually handed out highly calibrated instruments and impossibly rare raw materials worth thousands of Galleons one by one to the Gryffindors. He secretly, fiercely vowed in his heart to absolutely repay his uncle's incredible generosity with all his might when his cosmetic empire finally took off.
"Thank you so incredibly much, Uncle Al. We will take absolutely perfect care of them!" Regulus promised sincerely, leading the other awestruck young Gryffindors to nod their heads furiously in absolute agreement.
For the next two hours, the room was filled with the highly complex, dizzying lectures of Alphard Black. Under Alphard's incredibly dense, confusingly high-level mathematical teaching regarding runic matrices, the simple-minded little giant, Hagrid, quickly, heavily fell dead asleep sitting upright on the moth-eaten bed.
They only managed to gently shake him awake when the sun began to set and Alphard announced he absolutely had to leave to avoid the evening patrols.
Hagrid, blushing deeply and yawning awkwardly, insisted on politely offering to personally see Alphard off at the edge of the village, and he sternly reminded Regulus and the others to use the secret tunnels to quickly return to the school before curfew.
He honestly wasn't worried about their physical safety in the pub—Professor Dumbledore himself had previously, privately told Hagrid that the owner of the Hog's Head Inn could be entirely trusted in an emergency. And Hagrid trusted Dumbledore with his very life.
"Thank you so much for actively looking after my reckless nephews today, Rubeus," Alphard said kindly as they stood at the dirty entrance of the Hog's Head Inn, bathed in the fading, purple twilight. The highly successful, peaceful mediation between the Black family and the half-giant was, naturally, entirely credited to Regulus's flawless social maneuvering.
"And thank you again for the priceless Unicorn tail hair," Alphard added, shaking Hagrid's massive hand. "If you ever desperately need more of those healing Alchemy bandages for your animals, just have Sirius and the others securely pass the message along to me anytime."
"Oh, I really didn't do much at all," Hagrid scratched the back of his bushy head and gave a simple, incredibly honest, beaming smile. These specific people from the notorious Black Family are actually incredibly, genuinely nice, Hagrid thought happily.
"By the way, Rubeus... you and the dangerous dark wizard who now dramatically calls himself Voldemort were actually students in the exact same year at Hogwarts, weren't you?" Alphard suddenly remembered a crucial piece of Regulus's intelligence and asked the question incredibly casually, adjusting his coat. "Regulus explicitly told me that the Dark Lord's real, biological name is Tom Riddle."
Hagrid nearly violently stumbled on the cobblestones. He froze completely on the spot. His bearded face flushed a sickly, terrified pale color, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish, but absolutely not a single sound managed to come out.
The sheer terror in the giant's eyes left everything horrifyingly unsaid.
"I heard a few, highly suppressed rumors about exactly what horrific things happened in the castle back then..." Alphard said indifferently, keeping his tone light to avoid spooking the man further. "I was far too old, actively living entirely in my own academic world all day back then in the 40s. I genuinely couldn't be bothered with the messy, childish political affairs of the lower Houses—the rumors of the Chamber of Slytherin, the hidden heir, and so on... And honestly, until Regulus told me, I certainly never physically connected that quiet, polite Head Boy named Tom Riddle with the terrifying monster currently calling himself Voldemort."
Hagrid hesitated painfully, his massive hands wringing together. He desperately wanted to say something to warn this kind man, but after thinking about his absolute loyalty to Dumbledore and the strict secrecy of the Order of the Phoenix, he fearfully swallowed his words.
"The only reason I casually asked," Alphard continued smoothly, "is because Regulus recently told me—he physically encountered Voldemort at a wedding, and he claimed he magically sensed some incredibly strange, highly unnatural dark traces clinging to the man's physical body. Regulus asked me if it was related to a botched branch of dark Alchemy. And I honestly haven't been able to mathematically figure out exactly what's going on with him yet."
"That... that Riddle is absolutely not what he seems," Hagrid finally managed to choke out, his voice a terrified, rumbling whisper. "There's somethin'... somethin' profoundly, 'very' evil an' broken about him. He ain't natural."
"Well. Arrogant young people are always, naturally attracted to highly dangerous things like hidden secret chambers, buried treasures, and the promise of absolute, raw magical power. They're entirely lawless," Alphard sighed, sweeping his handsome, medium-length dark hair back from his forehead—a devastatingly elegant physical motion that immediately attracted the highly appreciative attention of two passing witches on the street.
"I was exactly the same reckless way back then, so I intimately know the mindset—there's absolutely no point in strictly telling them not to investigate the darkness. They'll just do it behind your back—" Alphard looked Hagrid dead in the eye.
"Mr. Hagrid. I'll have to heavily, deeply trouble you to please keep a very close, protective eye on my nephews."
Hagrid immediately, fiercely nodded his massive head.
"It's my absolute job ter protect the students! And please, just call me Rubeus!"
Couldn't keep an eye on them, Regulus thought cynically, already back inside the pub. He really, truly couldn't keep an eye on us if he tried.
The absolute, exact second the two protective adult wizards had physically left the vicinity of the pub, the four highly ambitious, terrifyingly energetic little wizards immediately, completely forgot their mental fatigue from the grueling Alchemy lecture. They instantly, seamlessly entered a highly focused state of planning the "big scene, big goal, and big picture."
The sheer, unadulterated curiosity, violent initiative, and absolute, reckless perseverance of these Gryffindor little wizards is truly, genuinely admirable, the mentally mature Regulus praised them inwardly, pulling out his notes.
"Alright, listen up. First, I have some massive, highly classified good news," Regulus announced, leaning across the table. "Professor Slughorn's former star student, the highly renowned Potions Master Damocles Belby, has recently made a massively significant, unprecedented theoretical breakthrough on the Wolfsbane Potion."
Sirius and James violently snapped their heads up. They looked at Remus in absolute, wide-eyed surprise—
For Lupin, who was currently dreading having to physically experience the agonizing, bone-breaking torture of the full moon again next week, this was genuinely, unbelievably world-shattering good news.
Lupin's exhausted, pale spirits were visibly, instantly lifted by the announcement; that was the sheer, intoxicating charm of genuine hope.
"Don't be unhappy that I know, Remus. Severus specifically, secretly shared this highly classified academic intelligence with me," Regulus said smoothly, actively working to bridge the gap between his friends. "And Severus's sheer, instinctual sensitivity and brilliant understanding of advanced Potions research is completely beyond doubt."
"I will absolutely find a secure way to secretly get in touch with Master Belby through our Head of House, Professor Slughorn, and I will aggressively, financially follow his clinical progress."
Regulus, naturally, absolutely wouldn't publicly mention the highly suspicious fact that he had already, secretly written an anonymous, highly detailed letter directly to Damocles Belby during the summer. In that letter, Regulus had explicitly, mathematically 'reminded' the Potions Master to aggressively utilize Aconite as the base, and strictly warned him absolutely not to add any stabilizing sugar to the brew. Regulus desperately hoped his future knowledge would actively help Master Belby successfully invent the completed Potion years sooner than in canon.
"Of course," Regulus concluded, looking around the table with a fierce, brilliant smile. "Even with the potion in development, our highly illegal, incredibly dangerous 'Animagus' transformation plan will absolutely still proceed in parallel. Nobody wants to quit now, right?"