In Alan's view, magical reserves were tied to a wizard's physiological growth, meaning they naturally increased with age. Physical exercise and consuming the meat of magical creatures could also accelerate this process. He recalled the surge of energy he felt after eating the dragon liver Hagrid had served. Remembering this, Alan realized Hagrid was a resource he had yet to fully utilize. He made a mental note to visit the groundskeeper more often, perhaps even securing a regular supply of dragon meat.
Magical intensity, on the other hand, was more influenced by willpower and emotion, a fact backed by several Charms textbooks. An angry wizard's offensive spells were often significantly enhanced, and those with darker inclinations tended to master the Dark Arts with half the effort. While the academic description of willpower was relatively vague, it was clear that spells cast by those with a firm mind were more stable and resilient. Fortunately, Alan possessed a will of iron.
Magical sensitivity was a concept Alan had first explored with Professor Flitwick. Through martial arts training, meditation, and his previous weighted exercises with the Levitation Charm, Alan found that his manipulation of magic was becoming increasingly effortless. He hadn't fully understood what that ease signified before, but now he did: it was the mark of heightened sensitivity. Strengthening his muscles and bones created a tighter connection between his magic and his body, meditation cleared his mind for better perception, and weighted training kept his magic in an active, output state. All of these were beneficial to a wizard's internal awareness.
Alan planned to maintain this regimen. The Slytherin dormitories were spacious enough, and the underground areas provided ample room for him to train in private. As for spell practice, he decided to master the basics of the entire curriculum before seeking out a dedicated training ground for more explosive magic.
Having mapped out his next steps, Alan buried himself in his books. As a calm week at Hogwarts drew to a close, the long-standing friction between Slytherin and Gryffindor slowly began to resurface.
---
"The Challenges in Charming journal is a monthly publication," Professor Flitwick explained half a month later, looking at Alan, who had stayed behind after class to inquire. "The Hogwarts library keeps copies, but they are in high demand, so borrowing them can be a challenge. There is also a delay of about six months; the current month's issue isn't stocked in the library to protect the publisher's sales. If you want to read the latest research, you'll have to wait half a year. You can borrow past issues for now, though; the content is excellent. I actually handle some of the editing and peer-review work for the magazine myself."
"I see. Thank you, Professor," Alan said. He didn't want to be six months behind the rest of the academic world. He estimated the library's single copy would always be checked out anyway, which would be a constant headache. "If I wanted to subscribe directly, how would I go about that?"
"Subscribing is a fine idea, though it isn't cheap. A one-year subscription to Challenges in Charming is twenty-four Galleons. Many textbooks cost less than a single year of issues," Flitwick said, pleased by the boy's intellectual curiosity. "If you wish to subscribe, you can bring the gold to me, and I will handle the correspondence with the publisher for you."
Alan was stunned. The Daily Prophet cost only five Knuts, and that was a daily paper. Twenty-four Galleons meant each monthly issue cost two Galleons. It was steep, but after a moment of internal debate, he decided he couldn't afford to be out of the loop.
"Professor, please sign me up for a year. Also, if it's possible, I'd like to purchase the back issues for the last six months as well." Once Alan made up his mind, he didn't hesitate. He counted out the gold and handed it over.
After paying Flitwick thirty-six Galleons, Alan felt a distinct lightness in his pockets.
*This isn't sustainable,* Alan thought as he walked away. *I need to generate some income. I have to get my plan for selling potions moving sooner than I expected.*
He didn't head to the Great Hall for dinner. Instead, he made his way toward the dungeons. He needed to find more advanced potion recipes to master if he wanted to make a profit.
Scavenging for old textbooks was a moral gray area. Flitwick had practically encouraged it in the Charms classroom, but Alan hadn't asked for permission in Transfiguration or Defense Against the Dark Arts. He already felt a twinge of guilt about those, and since Professor Slughorn was his own Head of House, Alan had been hesitant to "raid" the Potions lockers.
But his financial situation demanded action. He crept into the advanced Potions classroom, having already scoured the rooms for the second through fifth years. In addition to standard texts, he had recently found a Veritaserum recipe tucked inside a tattered book in a fourth-year locker. It had been covered in years of dust, so he had pocketed it without a second thought.
He skillfully cast Alohomora on a sixth-year locker. Inside were several copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage. The curriculum hadn't changed in decades, so the books were identical—at least on the outside.
Alan began flipping through them. When he opened one with a slightly worn cover, he found the margins densely packed with handwritten notes. The only other book he had seen with this level of annotation was Lily's fifth-year Charms text. He felt a surge of excitement. Scavenging was like a lottery; most books were blank, but occasionally you found a masterpiece.
A quick skim convinced him the notes were of extraordinary value. He turned back to the inside cover to see who the previous owner was.
"The Half-Blood Prince?" Alan muttered. He thought the owner must have been incredibly conceited to give himself such a title. It reminded him of the edgy usernames people used on the internet in his previous life.
He gave a small, nostalgic huff at the pretentiousness of it, tucked the Prince's book into his bag, and slipped out of the classroom.