Chapter 7.
Once again days began to pass by in a slow manner, as Alan continued to study while practicing his spell-casting and increasing his timing quality to be the best.
Making notes and studying was a matter Alan attached great importance to, as he was still quite overwhelmed by the fact that he actually was going to teach at the legendary Hogwarts; however, at the same time, he felt the need to prepare for what was to come his way eventually. The first thing was that long and lousy snake that was going to awaken, and the second thing was bald and noseless Voldemort.
"I will gradually need to up my knowledge and combat abilities even more." Alan couldn't help but mumble, closing his book and reading the letter that had arrived just a few minutes ago. It was from Professor McGonagall about the student list he had sent.
The first-year students were excluded from the combat class, which was also a great decision from Dumbledore since the knowledge that they would require to step into the realm of combat would eat up their half of the semester in the first year, and even if Alan wanted to teach them combat, he couldn't since most of the students wouldn't even know how to cast any spell properly.
To tell the truth, Alan was slightly thankful, as he disliked having to act like a nanny, which he would have to act like if those first-year kids were also part of the combat class.
Anyway, back to the letter sent by McGonagall, it didn't contain many things except a few insights on teaching and the fact that she was ready to help him with anything regarding teaching and could contact him; so, Alan in the next few days did contact a professor, but it wasn't her but instead Professor Flitwick.
Flitwick, once the legendary spellcaster and a dueling champion and a cheerful character, was someone who could be approached by Alan countless times regarding his combat curiosity. If he were to send letters to McGonagall every day, there was a high chance that one day she might even appear in front of his house to teach him, but that wasn't the case with someone like Flitwick.
"It seems like he still has a good impression of me." Alan couldn't help but feel, while reading the letters, that he was once one of Flitwick's favorite students.
...
Time continued to pass by, and it has been a month since he gave the interview and became a professor at Hogwarts.
Today, contrary to his everyday study and letter-exchanging session, Alan was resting on his sofa while thinking about the plot and the things that he could snatch and take advantage of.
But just then a loud knock was heard on the window, and as he looked toward the window, he saw a stupid owl, quite different from all the other owls, panting and looking almost dead behind the window.
"What a stupid thing." Alan got up from the sofa and rushed to the window and saw that this owl too had a letter tied to its leg.
Seeing the condition of the owl, Alan picked it up and took it inside the house while untying the letter. "The burrow? Is it from Arthur?" Alan, reading the small address on the front, couldn't help but mumble, but as the owl looked like it could die any moment now, Alan, ignoring the letter for a moment, gave the owl the nutrition it needed with a wave of his wand and then shifted his attention back to the letter.
"This is really from Mr. Weasley. It looks like he finally got the news about my acceptance as a Hogwarts professor." Alan reading the letter mumbled, as the letter contained a dinner invitation from the Weasley family and a few other things, like how they were happy after getting the information from McGonagall".
"It seems like today I would need to cast a space extension charm on my stomach." Alan couldn't help but joke, recalling the time when Arthur was sent too much food that he would call him to help him finish it; moreover, there was no way he could refuse such an invitation as well.
With a smile on his face, Alan placed the letter down on the table and then looked at the old owl, which was nibbling on the food he had dropped in front of it. Though he wanted to send the response as soon as possible, fearing that the old owl might die midway, he let it rest for an hour or two before flying back to the barrow while focusing on his own work.
The arrival of the departure time finally arrived, and Alan, clad in new clothes, walked out of his manor, as there were many still active wards working on the house, like anti-apparition, which had been installed when his parents were alive, and since then these wards and spells have been doing their job, protecting him and the house.
'Sometimes these wards and all this security seem inconvenient, but since they are the last things my parents did for me and could be called a protective memory, I don't think I can remove them.' Alan felt, as he began to walk a little distance away from the manor, that since without these wards he could directly apparate from inside the house, the same thing could be done by a miscreant as well.
Though it's not famously known, there are such active cases happening in the wizarding world as well, but at the same time, if he thinks about learning the art of apparition, Alan doesn't feel that it's everyone's cup of tea since he too felt quite a bit nervous when the apparition was taught at Hogwarts, but still, for a thief, nothing should be impossible.
Thinking about a thief, he could already recall a name: that bald Mundungus Fletcher.
But anyway, it wasn't time yet to focus on him. He looked around himself and then closed his eyes, recalling the Weasley house in his mind, and then mumbled, "Apparate."
A/N : throw some powerstones.