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Percy Weasley, ashamed and furious, stormed back to his dormitory. Meanwhile, Alan and Harry, who still hadn't eaten their fill, exchanged a few words before sitting down by the fireplace.
Even though it was summer, a fire was still burning warmly in the hearth. Next to it sat a small pot filled with water that never seemed to boil over or evaporate.
Just as Alan got comfortable, and Hermione was about to sit next to him and start talking, the Weasley twins appeared out of nowhere. They pushed past Hermione, sandwiching Alan between them with matching mischievous grins.
Hermione glared at them, clearly irritated, but the shameless twins weren't fazed in the slightest. In fact, they winked at her as if daring her to say something.
"Just a quick chat," said one of them casually.
"We won't interrupt your romantic moment," added the other with a teasing wink.
Hermione blushed furiously, and while she struggled to come up with a response, the twins turned their full attention to Alan.
"Nice work," said the twin on the left.
"Finally, someone shut Percy up for once," added the one on the right.
"We're honestly impressed," they said together. "You've managed something we've only dreamed about—pulling off such a bold move at school!"
"Let's introduce ourselves. I'm Fred, and this is George," Fred chirped like a happy bird. "We're the Weasley twins, obviously."
Fred was the more talkative of the two, while George stood slightly calmer, though the same mischievous twinkle danced in his eyes.
Alan leaned back on the sofa, amused. "So, why are you two helping me? Percy Weasley's your brother, isn't he?"
When Percy had been humiliated earlier, Alan hadn't even had the chance to defend himself before the twins had stepped in and dragged Percy away, seemingly to protect him.
Fred scoffed. "We helped because we think you're cool. Honestly, the fact that you challenged Dumbledore like that? Legendary. Never thought I'd see the day."
"And besides," George added, "Percy had it coming. He's been walking around acting like he owns the place. We're sick of him bullying others."
"Exactly," Fred said with a nod. "Your comeback was incredible—cool, reasonable, and spot-on. Though maybe a bit too harsh with that bit about him ignoring his family for his future. Still, it had impact."
Alan gave a noncommittal smile. He knew he might've gone too far, but as an outsider, it wasn't really his place to comment too deeply on family matters. Getting involved in someone else's family drama was always risky.
At that moment, Harry walked over carrying a bulging backpack. His hair was messier than usual, and a large black crow perched on his shoulder, eyeing the room with curious intensity.
"Alan, Tommy keeps pecking me," Harry grumbled. "I was just getting the bag."
"You should've told him I asked you to bring it," Alan replied. He took the backpack from Harry and then reached out to lift the crow—Tommy—by its wings and gently set it down.
"Everyone, meet my pet—Tommy," Alan said, introducing the intelligent-looking bird to the group.
"Make sure you remember his face. If he gets into trouble and comes to you, help him out, will you?"
The group gathered around. George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger… and Ronald Weasley, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
"Huh? When did you get here?" Alan asked, surprised.
"Just now," Ron shrugged. "I followed Percy and saw him storm back to the dorm. He was fuming and muttering about writing a letter to Mum—something about you bullying him with outsiders."
"Oh, great," Fred and George said in unison, though neither looked the least bit concerned. "Not like it's the first time he's tattled on us."
After that, their attention turned to Tommy.
"Tommy? That's a weird name," George repeated with interest as Fred reached out to stroke the bird's glossy feathers. "Its plumage is amazing. Is it a crow? Why is it so big?"
"It's a breed issue," Alan replied. "I plan to let him roam free. If you see him outside, just keep an eye on him. He's smart—he'll ask for help if he needs it."
Alan turned to Tommy and gestured to each person, making sure the bird recognized their faces.
"As a reward, I'll cook something delicious for everyone."
"Delicious?" Hermione, Ron, and Harry perked up instantly.
Fred and George, still admiring Tommy, finally snapped back to attention.
"Did you say food?" George asked, his curiosity piqued.
"I don't have many ingredients. There's no preservation charm on my supplies, so I could only bring a few things..." Alan reached into his bag, rummaged around, and pulled out a can. "Looks like dragon liver's the only option."
"Wait… did you say dragon liver?" George and Fred gasped, while Ron just smiled knowingly.
"Ron, you knew?" Fred asked, stunned.
"Of course," Ron replied proudly. "I got to try it on the train. It's amazing—and expensive."
"Of course it's expensive. It's dragon liver! A tiny can costs three Galleons!" George said, wide-eyed. "We wanted to buy some for our magical experiments, but it was too pricey."
"But Alan's dragon liver is even more expensive," Ron added. "His version goes for five Galleons a serving!"
"Oh my god!" Fred and George cried. "That's madness!"
The commotion drew attention from others in the common room, but Alan didn't mind. He casually opened two of the cans and transformed one into a frying pan using Transfiguration.
His skill was evident. The frying pan looked elegant, with a beautifully designed, heat-resistant handle.
He removed the pot from the fireplace, placed the pan over the flames, and used a clean cloth to dry the dragon liver before placing it in the pan.
"These are from Australian White-Eye Dragons," Alan explained. "Their livers are fatty—perfect for pan-frying."
As the liver hit the hot surface, a satisfying sizzle echoed through the room, releasing the mouth-watering scent of the Maillard reaction—the browning of proteins that brings deep flavor.
Next, Alan took out a few Euphoria Lollipops, smashed them into pieces with surprising force, and added them into the pan.
His cooking setup was crude—just a single pan over an open fire—but Alan moved with confidence and precision. He kept the sugar syrup and the dragon liver separate in the same pan, carefully managing the temperatures to avoid burning or mixing too soon.
Fred and George watched in horror and fascination.
"He's actually cooking it…" Fred whispered, clutching his head. "That's dragon liver! Do you know what we could do with that in a lab?"
"This is blasphemy," George groaned. "It's meant for spell infusions and enchantment theory—not eating!"
Their outrage was almost comical, but Ron ignored them completely, already licking his lips in anticipation.
Soon, the rich aroma from the pan filled the common room. Students started drifting closer, drawn by the irresistible scent.
Hermione leaned over and whispered, "You really shouldn't provoke Percy like that. But… this smells divine."
Alan grinned. "I didn't provoke him. I just told the truth in a louder voice."
Fred and George were still in despair over the dragon liver being 'wasted,' but even they couldn't stop sniffing the air and inching closer.
When Alan finally served the dish—simple fried dragon liver glazed with melted euphoria candy—it looked golden and crisp, with a faint sheen of sugary glaze that sparkled under the firelight.
The first bite brought silence. Everyone froze in astonishment.
Then Ron moaned dramatically. "This is… this is better than the one on the train!"
"It's unreal," Harry mumbled through a mouthful.
Hermione chewed slowly, eyes wide. "Is this really… candy and liver?"
Even Fred and George, after dramatically resisting for a minute, finally caved. One bite, and their protests were gone.
Fred slumped onto the sofa. "Okay, I take it back. You're a monster for cooking this… but a culinary genius."
George nodded. "Still a crime. But a delicious crime."
Alan smiled, satisfied. Tommy fluttered to the armrest beside him, looking pleased with the chaos.
With full bellies and stunned expressions, the group sat around the warm fire, Alan in the center, his crow Tommy perched proudly by his side. The fireplace crackled, the smell of magic and caramel lingered in the air, and for a moment, all was peaceful—even with a looming letter of complaint heading toward Mrs. Weasley.
But that was a problem for another day.
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