Alex nodded thoughtfully. The drama of pure-blood families didn’t interest him much, but the idea of Tonks’ ability caught his attention. A natural-born shapeshifter? That was something worth studying. Tonks, with her lively and playful demeanor, intrigued him. Maybe he’d find an opportunity to talk to her later.
The Sorting Ceremony continued smoothly under Professor McGonagall’s watchful eye, and soon dinner began. Not long after, Wendy approached Alex with a parchment in hand, filled with names. It seemed she had completed her assignment with impressive speed. “What’s this?” Vivian asked, pulling a lamb chop halfway to her mouth as she glanced curiously at the list.
“It’s the freshman roster. You do know I’m a prefect now, right?” Alex replied, looking at her with an exasperated expression.
“But you’re the fifth-year prefect. Why is Wendy, a sixth-year prefect, running errands for you?” Vivian asked, narrowing her eyes as she caught on.
Alex smirked. “Guess.”
“Ugh, stingy,” Vivian muttered, pouting as she turned her attention back to her food, oblivious to what was coming. Alex glanced toward Wendy and Jane, who were seated at the other end of the Slytherin table.
Catching his signal, they stood up and quietly left the hall. Their movements didn’t escape Snape’s notice. From his seat at the staff table, the Potions Master raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity. Snape was still unsure whether making Alex a prefect had been a good idea.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t have much time to observe, as Dumbledore had tasked him with tracking Death Eater movements in the coming days. He shot a disgruntled glance at the headmaster, who appeared entirely unbothered.
As the dinner concluded, the Slytherin students followed Louis, the sixth-year prefect, back to the common room. Alex stayed at the rear of the group, ensuring no one was left behind.
The younger students buzzed with excitement, chatting in their newly forming cliques. But when they entered the Slytherin common room, something felt off. The usually cozy dungeon lounge was empty.
All the furniture—sofas, armchairs, even the carpets—had been moved to block the passages leading to the dormitories. “What’s going on?” a senior student asked, looking at Louis in confusion. “Why’s the dorm entrance blocked?”
Louis hesitated, unsure how to respond. Alex hadn’t explained the plan, only issued instructions. “It’s time for a house meeting,” Alex’s voice rang out, amplified by the Sonorus Charm. Standing atop the entrance steps, his tone carried an authority that was hard to ignore.
“Everyone, line up by year. Keep an arm’s length distance between you and the person next to you. Louis, Wendy, and Jane, organize them quickly—we don’t have all night.”
The freshmen, fresh from their sorting ceremony, were buzzing with curiosity. Many of them whispered amongst themselves, wondering if this was some kind of special event unique to the school. But when they noticed the equally bewildered expressions of the senior students, their excitement turned to unease.
For the sixth- and seventh-year pure-blood wizards, the atmosphere was even more tense. They shifted uncomfortably, exchanging anxious glances. In their minds, they couldn't help but groan, ‘What is Alex planning now? Is this the moment he finally decides to finish us off? We’ve been paying protection fees every month without fail!’
The growing confusion in the room didn’t escape Alex’s notice. He frowned, his sharp gaze sweeping over the disorganized crowd. “What are you all standing around for?” he barked. “Move! Do you seriously need someone to teach you how to form a line?”
Louis, one of the prefects, tried to take charge, clapping his hands nervously. “That’s right! Everyone, hurry up. The prefects have called for a meeting. Let’s get in line—yes, line up!” His attempts to rally the students lacked conviction.
Louis had never organized anything like this before, and it showed. His voice faltered as he spoke, and his lack of confidence didn’t inspire much cooperation. However, the students picked up on his meaning. Despite their efforts, many couldn’t help but question the situation.
‘A meeting? Does it really require blocking all the hallways?’
Their uncertainty gave way to a nervous restlessness. Still, under the disorganized guidance of the prefects, the students began to shuffle lazily into lines.
The older, pure-blood wizards were the quickest to react. They had learned to fear Alex over the past couple of years. Though he rarely interacted with other students, his reputation was like a sword hanging over their heads. His orders sent a chill down their spines, and they moved swiftly to avoid his wrath.
Friends like Vivian and Welen, who were familiar with Alex, didn’t know what he had planned, but they cooperated without question. Watching the chaos unfold, Alex sighed. He could see that the prefects lacked experience and authority. Even the younger students weren’t taking them seriously. ‘If I want this done right, I’ll have to handle it myself.’
He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade.
“Listen carefully! Starting from my right-hand side, first-years will form the outermost line. Grades will be arranged from lowest to highest, moving inward. Face me! Height will be arranged vertically, shortest in the front, tallest in the back. You have twenty seconds to get into position. If you’re not ready by then, you’ll face the consequences. Twenty… nineteen…” Though his voice wasn’t particularly loud, Alex added a subtle fear charm to his words. It was enough to make even the most indifferent students feel a sense of urgency. As the countdown began, a wave of nervous energy swept through the crowd.
The younger wizards, unused to organized group actions, fumbled awkwardly. The room became a chaotic mess of shouting and movement as students scrambled to find their places. Some spun in circles, completely lost. Alex observed the scene with a slight nod of approval. He wasn’t bothered by their nervousness or mistakes—those could be corrected.
What mattered was that they were moving, taking initiative. It was far better than apathy. He deliberately slowed his countdown, giving them time to adjust and figure things out on their own. His goal wasn’t to micromanage but to encourage them to act independently and find their roles within the group.
When the countdown ended, the students finally managed to form a rough semblance of a line. It was far from perfect—uneven spacing, crooked rows, and several students standing in the wrong groups—but it was a start.
“You there! You’re a third-year, not a fourth-year. Move back to your group. And you two—second-years don’t belong in the first-year line. Fix it!” Alex’s sharp voice echoed as he went down the line, pointing out mistakes and redirecting students to their correct places.
It took another few minutes, but eventually, the lines were straightened out. Alex stepped back to inspect their work, his sharp eyes catching every detail.
Though the crowd still looked anxious and uncertain, the initial confusion and numbness had faded. He saw curiosity and determination replacing their hesitation. Satisfied, Alex pulled out a clipboard. “We’ll start with roll call. When your name is called, respond clearly. Welen Higgs!”