The trek back through the tunnels felt significantly shorter with the weight of the mystery lifted. After a few minutes of navigating the damp, winding pipes, the rhythmic sound of stone scraping against stone echoed from ahead.
"That's Ron!" Harry shouted, his voice cracking with relief. "Ron! We've got her! Ginny's okay!"
A muffled, hysterical cheer erupted from behind a wall of fallen debris. As they rounded the final bend, they saw Ron's soot-stained face peering through a gap he had painstakingly cleared by hand. The reunion was a blur of red hair, tears, and dusty hugs. With Fawkes leading the way, his scarlet feathers glowing like a torch in the gloom, the four students finally ascended back through the plumbing and emerged into the girls' lavatory.
Moaning Myrtle was floating over a toilet stall, her translucent eyes bulging. "Oh! Why is there an extra one? I was expecting just the one body, maybe two!" she wailed, sounding oddly disappointed that everyone was still breathing.
Allen didn't have the patience for ghost drama. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by a hollow, gnawing ache in his stomach. He felt like he hadn't eaten in a decade. He could have swallowed a whole roasted ox and asked for seconds.
"I'm heading back," Allen said, waving a tired hand at the trio. "I need food, a shower, and a bed that doesn't smell like snake spit."
Fawkes circled Allen, his claws gently tugging at the shoulder of his robes. The phoenix clearly wanted him to head straight to the Headmaster's office. Allen stepped back, shaking his head. "Not now, Fawkes. I'm exhausted. Tell Dumbledore I'll be there after I've stopped seeing stars from hunger."
The bird blinked its intelligent, obsidian eyes, let out a soft trill of understanding, and soared out the door toward the Headmaster's tower. Harry, Ron, and Ginny followed, leaving Allen to make his way back to the Ravenclaw tower in peace.
He bypassed the Great Hall for now, knowing the kitchens would be a chaotic mess. Instead, he retreated to his dormitory. Thankfully, his mother, Mrs. Harris, was a woman who believed a son could never have too many snacks. He dug out a tin of her home-baked lemon tarts and devoured three of them before he'd even taken off his boots. After a blistering hot shower that washed away the ink and the slime of the Chamber, Allen collapsed into his four-poster bed. The soft breeze from the enchanted window was the last thing he felt before he plummeted into a dreamless sleep.
He didn't stay asleep for long.
"Allen! Wake up! You're going to miss the whole thing!"
Edward was jumping on the end of the bed, his face flushed with excitement. It was a rare sight; usually, Allen was the one dragging Edward out of bed for early morning study sessions.
"The school... they've called a feast! A celebratory dinner!" Edward was practically vibrating, barefoot and still in his silk pajamas. "Everyone's back, Allen! The petrified students—they've all been revived! And they're saying Harry Potter finished the monster! The boy who lived did it again!"
Allen sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He didn't bother correcting Edward on the details of who did what. It was easier this way. He threw on a clean set of robes and followed the stampede of Ravenclaws toward the Great Hall.
However, the moment he stepped out into the corridor, he was hit by a force of nature. Before he could even register a threat, he was pulled into a bone-crushing embrace.
"Oh, Allen! Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Allen's ribs groaned. He looked over the shoulder of his captor and saw a group of very embarrassed-looking Weasleys. This was Molly Weasley, and she had the grip of a professional wrestler.
"Mrs. Weasley... please... can't... breathe," Allen wheezed.
He managed to gently slide out of the hug, his face a shade of pink that matched the Weasley hair. "Mrs. Weasley, really, Harry was the one who found her. I just... happened to be in the neighborhood."
"Now, now, Molly," Arthur Weasley said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around his emotional wife. He looked at Allen with a gaze that was far more perceptive than his usual bumbling persona. "Thank you, Allen. We know you played your part. You kept them safe, and for that, we owe you a great debt."
The hallways were filling with curious students, and Allen was eager to escape the spotlight. He nodded respectfully to the Weasleys and pulled Edward along, heading for the sanctuary of the Ravenclaw table.
The Great Hall was a sight to behold. It was essentially a massive pajama party. Students from all four houses were intermingled, cheering and swapping stories.
Hermione Granger had clearly just arrived from the hospital wing. She threw herself at Harry with such force they both nearly toppled over. "You solved it! I knew you would! I left the clue, but you actually did it!"
Allen watched the scene from the blue-clad table, a small smile playing on his lips. When Penelope Clearwater walked over, looking healthy and vibrant, she raised a glass of pumpkin juice toward him. The look of pure, living joy in her eyes was worth more than any reward Salazar could have offered.
The celebration peaked at 3:30 AM when Hagrid burst through the doors, his giant coat stained but his face beaming. The cheers nearly took the roof off the hall.
But the real victory for Ravenclaw came when the points were tallied. While Gryffindor had earned a mountain for the heroics in the Chamber, Dumbledore stood up and made a special announcement.
"For exceptional magical prowess, the discovery of ancient secrets, and the protection of his fellow students... I award two hundred points to Mr. Allen Harris."
The Ravenclaw table erupted. With those points, they surged past the competition, successfully defending the House Cup for another year. To cap it all off, Professor McGonagall announced that all end-of-year exams were cancelled as a "special treat." The roar that followed could likely be heard in Hogsmeade.
In the midst of the chaos, a notification chimed in Allen's mind.
[System Notification: Sincere gratitude detected from over 100 wizards. Reward: 1x Legendary Lottery Draw.]
Allen's heart skipped a beat. He stepped into a quiet alcove behind a suit of armor and triggered the draw. The golden wheel spun, flickering through colors before landing on a vibrant, royal purple.
A "Living House-Elf" card.
Allen tapped it, and a small figure materialized before him. She wasn't like Dobby or the ragged elves in the Hogwarts kitchens. This elf was clean, wearing a tailored little dress with a matching short top and a jaunty blue hat. Her skin was a healthy peach color, and her large, watery eyes sparkled with an innocent, fierce loyalty.
"Mistress Maggie at your service, Master Allen!" she squeaked, curtsying so low her hat touched the floor.
Allen was instantly smitten. "Maggie. That's a perfect name."
Maggie wasn't just a servant; she was a miracle of the system. She had the unique ability to phase in and out of Allen's storage space and the Pet Space. She became the administrator of his private world. Within hours of her arrival, the chaotic Pet Space was organized. The magical creatures, usually prone to nipping at each other, found themselves being groomed, fed, and pampered by Maggie. Even the petrified Two-Headed Cockatrice seemed to relax under her care once she'd settled it into a warm nest.
"You're amazing, Maggie," Allen told her later that night as she presented him with a perfectly brewed cup of tea in his private study area.
Maggie hopped around happily, her blue hat wobbling. "Maggie loves Master Allen's monsters! They is being very misunderstood!"
The final weeks of the term were the best Allen had ever experienced. The gloom was gone, replaced by a brilliant, endless summer sun. Hogwarts felt like a home again.
However, one duty remained. Professor Dumbledore, thrilled by the success of the student-led Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, had decided to keep the system in place until a suitable permanent replacement could be found. This meant Allen was still the "Professor" for the second years.
And then there was the matter of Salazar's manuscript. Allen knew he couldn't keep it all for himself—it was a founder's wish that his research benefit the school. But as he looked at the notes on breeding Basilisks, he knew he had to be careful.
He had to face Dumbledore sooner or later. And knowing the Headmaster, the conversation would be anything but simple.