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Hogwarts, outside the owlery.
"Alexander, no matter what, I'm certain it was an owl."
Quirrell stepped out of the shed, his high-pitched voice echoing in the open air. His eyes scanned the area warily, brow furrowed.
"Alexander? Where are you?"
Earlier, when Devro came out of his meditative state, he was nearly scared to death by Quirrell's sudden appearance. Fortunately, Voldemort still seemed rational and had no murderous intent—at least, not toward an ordinary student like him.
So, Devro told Quirrell what had just happened. Naturally, he left out one crucial detail: the Microscopic Structure Deformation Technique. That kind of powerful magic must not fall into Voldemort's hands.
Instead, Devro focused on the events leading up to his arrival at the shed.
Just then, another guinea pig had arrived.
How could Devro let such an opportunity slip?
He immediately urged Quirrell to go in and check out the shed.
"Professor, it's too dangerous! A dark wizard has broken into the school! You must investigate!"
Devro sounded confident, certain. At the mention of a dark wizard, a flicker of fear crossed Quirrell's face. But he quickly composed himself, said nothing, released the binding spell on Devro, and walked into the shed. He even closed the door behind him—thoughtfully, yet deliberately.
Devro was slightly annoyed. He wanted to observe what would happen next. But the door was now closed.
No matter. Devro wasn't about to stay behind and find out.
Would he, a student, remain alone with a known Death Eater?
He hadn't lived long enough for that kind of foolishness.
As soon as Quirrell disappeared into the shed, Devro turned and sprinted back toward the castle, fast as smoke.
From the direction of the castle, screams echoed through the air. Clearly, a commotion was underway. The professors would soon arrive.
As he entered the castle, he ran straight into Professor McGonagall, who was rushing toward the chaos.
"Alexander! What in Merlin's name is going on!?"
Her face was tight with anxiety and fury.
"Hagrid just took Harry to the school infirmary—he was in a terrible state! Then he came to find me, but he couldn't even string together a sentence! You just came back from that direction. Tell me—what happened!?"
Devro didn't try to hide anything. He told her everything: writing to Lovegood, Harry being struck by the Killing Curse, his suspicion that someone transformed into an owl to carry out the attack. He laid it all out.
As she listened, McGonagall's face reddened with fury.
"Alexander! I told you not to pursue this matter further! I warned you it was dangerous!"
She took a sharp breath, trying to calm herself.
Devro didn't dare speak.
She was right—it was his carelessness. He had not only endangered himself, but Harry as well.
He fully deserved the scolding.
"Go to the school infirmary immediately. You need to be examined, and there are other professors present—it's safe. You are not to go anywhere else, do you hear me?"
She issued the order with unrelenting sternness.
Devro nodded quickly and ran off.
Upon entering the infirmary, he immediately saw a reassuring sight: Albus Dumbledore, sitting beside Harry's bed.
Devro's face brightened—only to darken again when he heard a sound.
[Ding!]
[New spell added to the library!]
His brow furrowed. He stopped mid-step, hesitating. Should he go in?
Dumbledore glanced up, his eyes locking with Devro's.
Seeing the hesitation on Devro's face, Dumbledore smiled knowingly.
Then, he rose and walked over.
"Devro, let's step outside to talk," he said kindly. "If we chat here, Madam Pomfrey will kick us both out."
Devro nodded numbly. He had a thousand questions spinning in his head.
Why was Dumbledore here, so calm, so unbothered?
Who was the attacker?
And why had Harry been hit with the Obliviate Curse?
...
"Minerva is handling things—I have full confidence in her," Dumbledore said as they walked. "As for dark wizards in the school, I'm quite confident there are none. So let's just sit for a moment. Would you care for a cockroach cluster?"
Dumbledore led him to a quiet, grassy area of the castle grounds. The noise of students and teachers was far away. Only a meadow and a few old trees surrounded them.
With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore conjured two soft chairs and gestured for Devro to sit.
Then he held out a dark, misshapen object.
Devro quickly waved it away, forcing a polite smile.
"Thank you, Professor, but... I'll pass."
Dumbledore had, in that brief moment, answered one of Devro's questions. But it only raised more.
Why would someone go through so much trouble—transforming into an owl, breaking into Hogwarts—just to kill him?
It didn't add up.
"It's a pity," Dumbledore sighed. "Not everyone appreciates their taste."
He popped the cluster into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with pleasure.
Devro winced but said nothing.
"Professor," he finally said, "who were they? Why are they trying to kill me?"
He wasn't in the mood for small talk anymore.
Dumbledore looked up at the evening sky. The orange dusk reflected in his bright blue eyes.
He was silent for a moment, deep in thought.
Then he turned toward Devro.
"The Tynndalos Hidden Society."
His voice was calm. Measured.
"They worship Tynndalos, a mysterious and terrifying being. When wizards attempt to cross into dimensions not their own, Tynndalos appears—to drive them out or... eliminate them."
"The Tynndalos Hidden Society originally studied the microscopic structure of matter, and the deformation techniques related to it. But at some point, they disappeared. No more public research. Their knowledge sealed away."
"So much so that now, almost no one remembers their work."
"They came after you because of your surname, Alexander. It's your mother's name, correct?"
Devro nodded slowly, confused.
Dumbledore's gaze was steady.
"Your family descends from Alphonse Louis Constantine—the alchemist."
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