Charles watched Alan clean up the scene and didn't think much of it, heading into the cabin to pour a large glass of water, which he chugged in seconds.
Wiping his mouth, he asked curiously, "How's the experiment coming along? I think I heard you say last time it was some kind of sound wave spell."
"I've made some progress, but I've hit a wall," Alan replied, his mind already cycling through potential solutions. "I need to find a way to isolate the waves. It's proving to be quite a headache."
"Isolate sound? Can't you just use a Silencing Charm or a Muffliato?" Charles asked.
"Those won't cut it. Sound waves and audible sound aren't exactly the same thing in this context. It's not just about what you hear; it's about the physical vibration," Alan explained with a hint of helplessness.
"Is it really that complicated? I've never heard of sound waves, but I've seen plenty of water waves. It'd be great if you could just calm them down with a Wave-Dispelling Charm, the way people do with the tide," Charles said casually, reaching for a refill of water.
Alan froze. He looked up, his gaze boring into Charles. "Wait, Charles, what did you just say?"
"What? Water waves?"
"No, after that. What spell did you say can calm them?" Alan pressed, stepping closer.
"The Wave-Dispelling Charm?" Charles said, sounding uncertain.
"Yes! That! Is there really a spell that specifically settles waves?"
"I heard a senior bragging about it," Charles replied, blinking at Alan's sudden intensity. "Glenda Chittock. She said she was traveling across the Aegean Sea when they hit a massive storm. A wizard with them used that spell to flatten the swells so they could sail safely. She ended up learning it from him."
"Can you find her? Ask her to teach it to me? It's exactly what I need for the experiment," Alan asked. He was genuinely excited; he hadn't realized a fellow student might hold the key.
"Her? She's a seventh-year. I think she's out on an internship right now because she's gunning for a job at the Wizarding Wireless Network," Charles recalled.
"She's an intern? Will she even come back to the castle? Seventh-years still have to sit their NEWTs, don't they?" Alan asked.
"The exams aren't mandatory for everyone, but I'll ask around the Mahjong Club. One of the other seniors is pretty close with her," Charles said.
"The Mahjong Club?" Alan repeated. "Since when do we have a Mahjong Club?"
Charles put his hands on his hips and let out a boisterous laugh. "Since Vivian and I started it! You're always holed up in this cabin like a hermit, so of course you haven't noticed. We have over a dozen members now!"
"And what do you actually do? Just play all day?" Alan asked, find the existence of such a group baffling.
"Pretty much! You lent us that set, and then after Christmas, you gave us each our own, remember? We started playing in our common rooms whenever we had a free hour. More people got interested, and it just grew from there. Hogwarts has clubs for Wizard Chess and Gobstones—why not Mahjong? We're actually one of the bigger gaming clubs now," Charles said with a proud grin.
Alan shook his head. He had been so buried in his research that he'd completely missed the social revolution he'd accidentally started. He was the one who had introduced the game, yet he hadn't touched a tile in months. Charles tried to recruit him on the spot, but Alan stayed focused on his goal, reiterating the request for news on Glenda Chittock.
---
"So, she won't be back until next week?" Two days later, Alan looked at Charles during their afternoon session.
"That's what I heard. Her internship is going great; word is she's going to be a full-time announcer once she graduates," Charles reported.
Since the disastrous experiment two days prior, Alan hadn't dared to cast the Infrasonic spell again. He had used his rune plate to tweak the structure a few times, but without a way to shield himself, he was stuck in theory. To his mind, water waves and sound waves shared the same fundamental properties; if a charm could disperse one, it stood to reason it could influence the other. Even a partial success would provide the inspiration he needed.
"I'll leave the contact to you, then," Alan said, knowing he couldn't force the timeline.
"Don't worry. The second she's back on campus, I'll track her down," Charles promised.
"Thanks, Charles. I appreciate it," Alan said. Then, his tone shifted to something more clinical. "Since you've finally adapted to the initial routine, we can officially move into the special training."
"What?" Charles went rigid. "You mean the last month wasn't the special training?"
"That was just the baseline—a warm-up to make sure your body didn't give out on you. If we'd started the real work immediately, you wouldn't have lasted three days," Alan explained calmly.
Charles let out a low whistle of dread. A warm-up? He'd spent the last month feeling half-dead every evening. The morning runs alone were a struggle, and the magic depletion drills in the afternoon left him staggering. He couldn't imagine anything more brutal.
Seeing the resistance on Charles's face, Alan's expression hardened. "If you want to get better, you have to pay the price. There are no shortcuts."
He led Charles to a flat clearing outside the cabin. "We'll take it slow so it doesn't interfere with your classes. The first subject is stance work: the horse stance, the four-level stance, and the primordial chaos stance. We'll start with the horse stance. Watch my posture carefully."
Alan dropped into a deep squat, his back straight and his legs wide, holding a steady, unmoving pose.
"Stance training?" Charles asked, watching the strange display. "What does squatting have to do with being a wizard?"