The Little Peacock's feathers were thoroughly ruffled

Crabbe and Goyle were bewildered.

-Malfoy had stayed in his Bedroom all afternoon without coming out.

That was not normal.

Ordinarily, after making the Slytherin Quidditch Team, Malfoy would already have been sitting in the Common Room, boasting until everyone knew about it!

Today was far too quiet.

Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini knocked on Malfoy's Bedroom door for ages before he finally appeared.

His normally bloodless face was even paler than usual. Draco held the door half-open, fixed his gray-blue eyes on them, and asked coldly, "What?"

"Oh, Draco!" Pansy said worriedly. "Would-would you like something to eat?"

Draco frowned, snapped, "Stop bothering me," and slammed the door with a bang.

Blaise sighed. "Ah, he really doesn't know how to treat a lady!"

He struck a flirtatious pose for Pansy. "Beautiful lady, why keep chasing someone who gives you the cold shoulder? How about being with me instead?"

Pansy kicked him. "Blaise Zabini, if you want to flirt, do it somewhere else. Don't give me those disgusting bedroom eyes!"

She glared viciously at Blaise and stormed downstairs.

Blaise's expression chilled. Glancing at Pansy's retreating figure, he scoffed and brushed the footprint off his trousers. "Does she actually think she can become Mrs. Malfoy? Dream on!"

As Allen stepped into the Common Room, he came face-to-face with Pansy striding out.

The short-haired girl stopped, folded her arms, and raised her chin.

She looked down her nose at Allen as though he were some sort of vermin.

"Cornwall, did you make Draco angry? He hasn't come out all afternoon! He hasn't even eaten dinner! And he only just passed the Quidditch team trials this morning!"

Allen gave a cool smile. "Miss Parkinson, whatever happens between Draco and me is hardly your concern, is it?"

"So you did make him angry?" Pansy drew her wand from her robes.

Allen calmly glanced at the wand pointed at him as though it were nothing more than a dead twig. "I think you need to get something straight-he made me angry!"

"Now, if you dare point that at me again, I'll snap that little twig!"

Pansy trembled with rage. "You!"

"Excuse me!"

Allen cut her off and walked past her toward his Bedroom.

-He still had plenty to do and no time to play house with this pure-blood aristocrat.

Draco sat at his desk, looking sideways at the Magic Mirror.

Over a single word, over a bunch of irrelevant peasants, that Muggle Crown Prince had turned against him?

Allen was certainly clever-so clever that every sentence left Draco speechless.

"You can hardly call yourself a proper Malfoy, let alone a proper Slytherin!"

Those words had been far too harsh.

Harsh enough to nearly crush the White Peacock's feathers.

Swallowing his hurt, Draco snapped his fifth quill of the day.

The platinum peacock took a deep breath and concentrated on copying the Slytherin Code for the tenth time.

The room was silent.

In that stillness, the sound of the door opening was especially distinct.

The platinum peacock's ears pricked up, but he stubbornly refused to turn around.

Familiar footsteps approached, accompanied by the faint rustle of clothing.

Draco bit his lip hard, determined to teach this wretched Muggle-born a lesson.

Allen took out a brown paper bag full of desserts, removed his wizard's robes and suit jacket, and carried the bag over to Draco.

A certain Little Peacock's ears had already perked up, yet the quill that had been motionless for so long began moving again.

Not much has changed...

Allen thought.

Hmm, perhaps something has. Isn't he diligently copying the Slytherin Code?

Allen chuckled, set the bag of desserts on the Little Peacock's desk, and asked, "Why didn't you have dinner?"

The quill paused, its feathers curling under the pressure of Draco's grip.

"Some desserts. These will have to do for now..."

The rest of his words trailed off as Allen swiftly sidestepped the paper bag the Little Peacock hurled at him.

Draco glared at him, his chest heaving, and demanded through gritted teeth, "What do you mean by this?"

Allen frowned slightly and looked regretfully at the puddings that had rolled out of the bag. Drawing his wand, he gathered them up and dumped them into the bin.

Only then did he turn to Draco, his tone mild. "Well, esteemed young Master Malfoy. Now you'll have to go hungry."

"What?"

The anger Draco had finally managed to vent faltered. By the time he understood what this bastard had said, his lips were trembling, and he could not think of a reply.

Allen's expression cooled. He had spent the entire afternoon smiling, and he was tired too.

"I hope copying the Slytherin Code does you some good."

Draco immediately covered the parchment on his desk, but quickly realized how foolish that was. His ears turned scarlet.

He struggled to maintain his aristocratic composure-

Merlin's beard! He absolutely refused to let this Muggle-born think he was an unworthy Malfoy again.

But Allen paid him no further attention.

The blond Crown Prince sat at his desk and opened his books.

Draco fumed. "Allen Cornwall! What do you mean by this!"

Allen frowned, picked up his wand, and waved it. His surroundings instantly fell silent, and his brow relaxed.

-He had been wanting to do that for a long time.

His current priorities were to develop a simple, effective Magical Contract while keeping up with all his subjects, gain a basic understanding of alchemy, and then choose a reliable master alchemist to make Communication Badges.

He could ask Salazar about the theory behind Magical Contracts, but as for alchemy...

Allen considered it. Since the headmaster was paying him so much attention, surely he would be willing to have Nicolas Flamel offer him some help.

Beside him, Draco called his name until he was exhausted, but Allen did not react at all.

What else was there to figure out?

This Muggle-born had cast a Silencing Charm!

Draco was too angry to speak. Hungry and aggrieved, he simply grabbed his robes and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The blond Crown Prince concentrated on working out his schedule.

The tremendous crash of the Little Peacock slamming the door was blocked by the Silencing Charm and did not draw his attention in the slightest.

He waved his wand again, cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm, and walked over to the bed screened by dark green silk curtains, drawing back the curtain at its head.

The handsome, devilishly charming founder of Slytherin watched his descendant expressionlessly as Allen said,

"Ancestor, after I meet the headmaster tomorrow, I should receive the arrangements for my extra lessons from the other professors. Then we can schedule your magic lessons."

Salazar's expression remained composed. He scoffed. "Those youngsters? How could their lessons be as useful as mine? You're neglecting what matters for trivialities, child. You'll regret it sooner or later."

Allen smiled faintly. "Thank you for being understanding. But you don't want that headmaster to discover you either, do you?"

One corner of Salazar's mouth twitched. Ignoring that remark, he asked, "How did things go with those Muggle-borns of yours today?"

"Very well!"

Allen smiled, clearly not intending to elaborate. "I still need to visit the library. Will you be turning in early?"

Salazar sneered. "What are you going to look up?"

"You ought to have faith in Ancestor Sylvia's bloodline." Allen smiled, then briskly drew the curtain shut.

When he reached the library, Madam Pince gave him a cold glare, as though afraid he might be a little Troll who mistreated books.

"The library closes in an hour."

As though he had not heard the warning beneath her words, Allen smiled politely.

"Of course, madam! I'm looking for books on elementary alchemy. Could you point me in the right direction? I promise they won't have so much as a bent corner when I return them!"

Madam Pince looked at him, seemingly weighing whether he was telling the truth.

She studied the boy. Seeing his scholarly air and refined bearing, she reluctantly nodded, accepted his promise, and said,

"The thirteenth bookcase on the left, counting from the entrance. Second shelf from the bottom-all the alchemy books are there."

Allen bowed like a gentleman, one hand over his heart, and followed her directions to the relevant books. Then, under Madam Pince's glare, he checked out all the books on basic theory.

-How could he attract Dumbledore's attention without showing a little enthusiasm for learning?