"Adhesion effect: qualified. Shock absorption: qualified. Silent response: qualified. Physical exertion is approximately three tis that of a normal run, though the fatigue feels significantly heavier than standard exercise. Is there a limit to the body's load? It seems these cannot be used as casual footwear."
Alan tested the Phase Boots while monitoring his vital signs, gaining a comprehensive understanding of this new mode of locomotion.
"With my current physical condition, if I push the speed to its absolute limit, I can only sustain it for about ten minutes. However, if I use a lower activation setting to simply assist my movent, there is no ti limit."
Alan nodded thoughtfully before heading to the library, intending to supplent his knowledge of mory magic. The Longbottoms' minds were severely damaged, their mories seemingly erased. Although the possibility of a cure was slim, Alan wanted to find a way to help them recover.
"Madam Pince, could you direct to the books on mory magic?" Alan asked upon arrival.
"Oh, it's you, Alan," Madam Pince said. She was quite familiar with him, as he was a constant fixture in the library. "mory magic... let think. Try the twenty-seventh row; you should find what you need there."
"Thank you."
Arriving at the designated shelf, Alan began a systematic search. Before long, he pulled out a copy of "An Introduction to the mory Charm" and began to read. After a quick skim, he realized it focused almost entirely on the technical casting of the Obliviate spell, which offered little insight into the deeper chanics of mory restoration. He replaced the book and continued his search.
"Oh, my dear junior, are you searching for materials on the intricacies of mory?" a flamboyant, frivolous voice drifted from behind him.
Alan turned to see a male wizard, likely a senior. He had light brown hair and wore an ostentatious set of blue robes. Even from two ters away, Alan could sll a thick cloud of expensive perfu.
"Yes, Senior," Alan replied politely. He rarely socialized with other students and didn't recognize the man.
"Haha, then you are in luck! As a wizard proficient in all manner of spells and exceptionally popular with the ladies of all years, I am more than willing to give you so pointers." The man offered a blindingly charming smile.
Alan's expression twitched with skepticism. He wanted to point out that most wizards truly proficient in spells were mbers of the Charms Club—a group he knew well—and this man was not among them. However, a direct refusal felt unnecessarily cold.
"Is that so? Then please, Senior, I would appreciate your guidance."
"Since you have asked so sincerely, I cannot ignore you. I suggest you look at this. After all, cultivating the talents of Great Britain is the driving force that keeps moving forward." The flamboyant wizard twirled on his toes, pacing to the end of the shelf. He pulled out an exceptionally thick volu and handed it over.
"This book, 'Brain Regions and mory,' should help. I read only a portion of it, and it allowed to master the mory Charm with superb skill." The man winked and raised an eyebrow.
Alan took the book, still doubtful. Just as he was about to speak, a familiar voice interrupted.
"Lockhart, what are you doing? Are you bothering the younger students again?"
Alan turned to see Senior Vanessa approaching.
"Oh, Vanessa, long ti no see. I'm sorry I haven't replied to your love letter yet. You know how it is—I must take care of the girls in my own house first..." Lockhart smiled widely, but the mont Vanessa gripped her wand with a nacing look, his bravado vanished. He shrunk back and bolted, disappearing from sight in seconds.
"Phew! He moves fast when he wants to," Alan noted, then looked at Vanessa. "Senior, did you really...?"
Alan was surprised. He hadn't expected to stumble upon such gossip in the library.
"It's not what you think," Vanessa said, her expression darkening. "That's Gilderoy Lockhart. He's in my year, and he's a shaless, arrogant fraud. He loves to brag to anyone who will listen. Those 'love letters' are fake. Two years ago, on Valentine's Day, he sent hundreds of letters to himself and claid they were from female students—he even claid one was from Professor McGonagall."
"He has quite a bit of nerve, then," Alan remarked.
"Nobody likes him. He only shows off to people like you who don't know any better. Otherwise, no one would give him the ti of day," Vanessa pouted.
"Well, since you're graduating this year, I probably won't have to deal with him much longer," Alan said with a smile.
"True. I'll be busy with my NEWTs for the rest of the term. You should be careful, though. I know several people in our house have it out for you," Vanessa warned.
"Thank you for the reminder, Senior Vanessa."
*Those people don't just 'dislike' anymore,* Alan thought. *They're waiting for the chance to tear apart.*
After a few more words, Vanessa left. Alan looked down at the massive book in his hand and decided to give it a chance. He opened it and began to read.
He was imdiately captivated. The text went into exhaustive detail regarding mory magic, thought-runes, and the neurological structures of the brain. It provided a sophisticated breakdown of how mory is composed and how the mory Charm actually functions.
"It seems Lockhart isn't completely useless after all. This book alone will keep busy for weeks." Alan checked the book out and headed back to the dungeons.
Returning to the Slytherin common room, he ignored the hostile glares of the pure-blood cliques and went straight to his dormitory.
The following weeks passed in a state of strange, cold peace. The pure-blood students clearly hated him, but under the watchful eye of the professors, they didn't dare act out. Alan made the most of the quiet, maintaining his low profile while attending classes, participating in the Charms Club, studying with Professor Bones, and continuing his private alchemical research.
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