Alan had no idea how Vivian had managed to misinterpret his teasing so thoroughly, but throughout the entire train journey, she wouldn't stop prying for information about Charles.
"I told you, I was just kidding. Charles didn't confess anything; I was just ssing with you," Alan muttered, feeling like he was losing his mind. Vivian had been beating around the bush the whole way, and no matter how he explained it, she refused to believe him.
"Hmph, still lying to . You're probably giving him terrible advice, don't think I don't see through you. Otherwise, why would he turn and run the second he spotted ?" Vivian was now completely lost in her own fantasy, imagining Charles as a tragic, timid figure who couldn't even manage a greeting. "Tell him if he has sothing to say, he should say it to himself. He doesn't need you as a go-between."
As they neared the carriage parking area, they ran into Charles. Vivian shot him a fierce, aningful glare that left him utterly bewildered, wondering what on earth he had done to upset her this ti.
Alan, however, was staring at the carriages. Harnessed to the front was a Thestral, skeletal and obsidian-black.
"What's wrong with you? Why are you staring at thin air? Get in," Vivian said, sounding annoyed.
Ever since Alan had witnessed Evan Rozier's death last Christmas, he had been able to see them. Every ti he encountered one, he couldn't help but pause, struck by their macabre beauty and wondering if they were as cold to the touch as they looked.
He had seen a few wandering near the edge of the Forbidden Forest while staying at Hagrid's hut. Hagrid had explained that only those who had seen death could perceive them; to everyone else, they were invisible ghosts pulling the carriages.
Putting aside his curiosity, Alan returned to the castle. In the Great Hall, he watched the new first-years begin their Sorting. He couldn't shake the feeling that the Sorting Hat was pointedly glancing in his direction, prompting him to glare fiercely back at the patched and tattered brim.
After the ceremony, Dumbledore rose for his speech. It remained characteristically brief, though it included a somber announcent.
"It is with regret that I inform you that Professor Orville Robb, who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts last year, passed away due to old age following the end of the term. It is truly admirable that he dedicated his final year to teaching. To fill the vacancy, I would like to introduce this year's Professor for the Defense Against the Dark Arts, Mr. Edgar Bones," Dumbledore said slowly.
*So the old Professor really did pass away,* Alan thought. He had been worried about the man's health all last year; the Professor had been so frail he looked ready to collapse during every lecture.
Then he looked at the new arrival. It was indeed Edgar Bones, one of the stalwarts of the Order of the Phoenix. Lily had spoken highly of him as a master of Charms and Ancient Runes. Alan wondered if Dumbledore had invited him specifically to bolster the school's security.
Edgar Bones stood up to acknowledge the students. When his eyes found Alan, he offered a subtle nod. He rembered the young wizard from their brief etings over the holidays and held a favorable impression of him. Alan smiled and nodded back.
Once the feast concluded, Alan dived back into his reclusive academic routine.
Following the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the term, it was clear that Professor Bones was in a different league than his predecessor. He was humorous and articulated the material with a clarity that made even the most difficult chapters in the textbook easy to grasp. The class atmosphere was electric, and the students were already quite fond of him.
After the bell rang, Bones called Alan to his desk. The Professor looked rugged, his full beard giving him a masculine, weathered appearance, but his voice was surprisingly gentle. "Alan, I spoke with Lily before I ca to Hogwarts. She ntioned you have a remarkable talent for Magic Runes and Charms. Is that so?"
"She's being generous," Alan replied humbly. "Her guidance was excellent. I am very interested in Runes, though. I've been trying to develop a new sequence lately, but the progress hasn't been what I hoped for."
"Oh?"
Bones was intrigued. He hadn't known Alan was already at the stage of attempting original combinations.
Dumbledore had brought him here primarily to keep Voldemort's influence out of the castle. Given the losses the Order had recently suffered, Bones was stretched thin, and he didn't intend to stay for the full year due to the rumors of the position's curse. However, Lily had specifically asked him to look after Alan. She knew Bones was a master of the craft and that his ntorship could save the boy years of trial and error.
"Since you're so keen on the subject, co and find whenever you have ti," Bones said modestly. "I've only been at this for a decade or so, but I believe I can help point you in the right direction. Why don't we start tonight?"
Alan was overjoyed. He knew this was a special opportunity facilitated by Lily, and he quickly agreed. He hadn't expected such a stroke of luck so early in the year.
That evening, Alan enthusiastically knocked on the Professor's door. Bones opened it with a smile. "You're early. Forgive , I haven't quite finished my dinner yet. You'll have to bear with for a mont."
"I'm sorry, Professor," Alan said, feeling a bit sheepish. "I was so focused on the runes I didn't check the ti."
Bones waved him in without a second thought. On the desk sat a tray of food, only half-eaten, as the Professor pushed it aside to make room for their work.
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