Albus Potter and the Hidden Tower

Chapter Five: The Hallowe'en Feast

There was a sense of normalcy that followed Albus for the next month as classes began picking up in pace. The Charms professor, Brian McCaffrey, was a middle-aged man who moved through their curriculum at a blazing speed. He set them to practicing their Levitating Charms within the first week itself, and many following weeknights were dedicated to Rose and Scorpius helping their friends practice in empty classrooms.

Defense Against the Dark Arts somehow proved to be the most mundane of his core classes (save for History of Magic, of course). The professor was an aging, eighty-year-old man named Thomas Ivcoch who practiced a method of textbook curriculum. It wasn't boring, necessarily, it was simply... underwhelming. Albus's father told stories of his time at Hogwarts, where every Defense professor offered their own distinctive style of class that was (almost) never disinteresting.

It wasn't to say that Professor Ivcoch was a boring person, for Albus actually found him quite nice to converse with on the off occasion. In fact, Albus had established a surprising rapport with most of his professors, matched only by Rose and her tenacity.

He discovered small things about all of them: Professor Nyx had played professional Quidditch for the Hollyhead Harpies a few years after his mother had left the team; Neville helped cultivate nearly half of the school's food supply in the Forbidden Forest; and Professor M spent the first twelve years of his life in America, with his first two years of formal education having been at Ilvermorny.

"I was a Thunderbird," M had said when the topic arose in conversation. "Interesting, considering that the house's characteristics align most with those of Gryffindor."

Unfortunately, Albus's lead a few weeks prior had failed to bear fruit. Professor M was a collector of older Muggle technology, meaning he used VHS tapes as his source to broadcast the sound from the walls through wired speakers that he had installed with Professor Helios's assistance.

"So everything is based through a wired connection?" asked Albus that Thursday evening. He had gone alone at the behest of his friends, who suggested that a more intimate session might uncover more results than if he had dragged them along.

"I suppose so," said Professor M, looking at the ceiling inquisitively. "Why do you ask?"

Albus brought out his phone. "My phone uses a wireless connection to transfer music from an external server."

"But you have the songs downloaded, no?"

"Well, I do, but for some reason it doesn't work. Maybe it's because the VHS has a physical connection to the speakers? But then it should work with my wired earbuds..."

Professor M let out a noise that sounded halfway between a hum and a grunt. "Quite the conundrum. Sorry Albus, I'm afraid I can't help you much more."

That resigned feeling of helplessness followed Albus for a few days like a shadow. Thrice he had uncovered something abnormal, and thrice he had failed to see it to its conclusion. But soon, the hustle of schoolwork ramped up sharply, and Albus found himself lost to the throes of homework and essays, all but forgetting about his personal project and occupying himself with trying to scrape marks in class.