As the clock approached 7:00 p.m., marking the start of evening self-study, there were still students missing from the common room. The younger students, especially, were scattered, while grades six and seven maintained a semblance of order. Then, without warning, Alex appeared. He materialized out of thin air, standing silently on the stone steps of the common room. The younger students, who had been chatting noisily, froze mid-sentence. Startled, they exchanged frantic glances and gestured for their companions to quiet down.
The senior students, more experienced, imdiately recognized the Disillusionnt Charm. Realization dawned on them—Alex had been there all along, watching. Their hearts sank as they recalled every misstep from the day.
Alex stood firm on the stone steps, his wand raised. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a shimring barrier that sealed the corridor leading to the bedrooms and the outside world. The air wall, ford with a well-executed Obstacle Charm, was as clear as glass, allowing those outside to see and hear but barring them from entering. "Evening study has officially begun," Alex's cold voice echoed throughout the hall, cutting through the murmur of conversation. "From this mont on, anyone not present will be marked absent."
The students already seated glanced at Alex nervously, their unease growing as his stern gaze swept over them. anwhile, those who had arrived late stood behind the barrier, their faces a mix of frustration and embarrassnt. They pressed their palms against the invisible wall but couldn’t get through. "Grade leaders, stand up and report attendance," Alex ordered, his tone brooking no argunt. "The format is as follows: grade number, number of students expected, number present, and nas of those absent. If everyone is here, state that all are present. If anyone is missing, list their nas. Start now. No excuses, no delays."
The leaders in the audience exchanged uneasy glances before standing up reluctantly. So, like Welen and Wendy, appeared calm, while others shifted nervously, counting heads as quickly as they could. Alex crossed his arms, his expression unyielding. "Don’t dawdle. Every wasted minute is ti stolen from the group. Begin with the first grade," he said sharply, nodding at Welen.
Welen stood tall and reported confidently, "First grade, seven expected, seven present. Everyone is here."
"Good. Sit down," Alex replied with a curt nod, then turned to Wendy.
"Second grade, twelve expected, twelve present. Everyone is here," Wendy said smoothly. Alex gestured for her to sit as well before moving his gaze to the next leader.
"Fifth grade, fifteen expected, fourteen present," Jane reported nervously. She hesitated before adding, "The missing student is Sybil Rosa. She was just—"
"Late is late," Alex interrupted coldly. "Spare the excuses. Move on."
Jane bit her lip and sat down, visibly flustered. Alex’s sharp gaze turned to Joey, the fourth-grade leader, who was sweating profusely. "Fourth grade," Joey stamred, "fourteen expected, eleven present. Missing students are Nico, Ako, and Run Heywood."
Alex’s expression didn’t waver. He noted the nas on a board without comnt and looked to the next leader. The reports continued, with so grades having perfect attendance and others listing absentees. By the end, the numbers painted a grim picture: of the 110 students in Slytherin House, six were absent—more than 5%.
Alex’s jaw tightened. He set the recording board down with a sharp clack and surveyed the room, his cold gaze making the students squirm in their seats. "Do you think I’m joking? Or perhaps you believe I’m too kind to enforce rules? This is only the third day of school, and already so of you think discipline doesn’t apply to you." His words were icy, each syllable landing with the weight of a reprimand.
The students sat in tense silence, so looking down at their hands while others avoided his gaze entirely. Even the six who had been late and now stood awkwardly at the front of the hall under Alex’s scrutiny looked thoroughly chastened. Alex waved his wand, and the barrier blocking the entrance vanished. The six latecors shuffled forward, their heads hanging low. They stopped in front of him, glancing at one another nervously. "Do you think it’s clever to disregard the rules?" Alex asked, his tone cutting. "Or is being late your way of showing how capable you are? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like blatant disrespect."
One of the late students, a small boy with tousled hair, stamred, "It wasn’t intentional. We just lost track of ti—"
"Lost track of ti?" Alex cut him off. His voice was cold and steady, but the sharpness of his words made the boy flinch. "Then explain why the other 104 students managed to rember the ti. Or is punctuality optional in your eyes?"
The boy fell silent, his cheeks reddening as he stared at the floor. "Since you’ve broken the rules, there will be consequences," Alex continued. His tone left no room for argunt. "Each of you will do thirty push-ups right here, right now."
The latecors exchanged bewildered looks. "Push-ups?" one of them asked hesitantly, clearly unfamiliar with the term.
Alex’s voice carried authority as he faced the group with a stern expression. “It seems so of you are still unclear. Let make it simple—soone will demonstrate for you. From now on, all punishnts will follow this thod.” Turning to his side, Alex called out sharply, “Welen, co forward and show them how it’s done.”
Welen let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes slightly but stepping forward nonetheless. “Why ? I’m not the one being punished,” he muttered under his breath. Despite his complaints, he walked to the front of the room and began demonstrating the push-ups Alex demanded.
The group watched closely as Welen perford a few push-ups with ease, his movents smooth and controlled. Seeing how simple it looked, a wave of relief spread through the students standing on the stone platform. “Watch carefully,” Alex instructed. His sharp gaze swept over the group. “The movents must be precise. Keep your body off the ground. Later, you’ll follow my count. I’ll call out to thirty. Get ready.”
The six students on the platform exchanged hesitant glances before crouching down in preparation. Their expressions remained relaxed—this didn’t seem too hard. “Begin! One!” Alex’s voice echoed through the room as they bent their elbows to start. “ONE!” Alex barked again, even before they had fully risen.
A ripple of confusion passed through the students. Why had he repeated the sa number? Was it a mistake? Seeing their puzzled looks, Alex’s tone turned icy. “So of your movents aren’t up to standard. I won’t move forward until everyone ets the proper form.”
A collective groan escaped the group as they exchanged resigned glances.
“ONE!”
“Still not up to standard. ONE!”
“ONE!”
The relentless counting continued, with Alex refusing to let them progress until they perfected their form. When he finally shouted “TWO,” they had already done twice the number of push-ups expected.
As Alex reached “TEN,” sweat was dripping from the students’ faces, pooling beneath them. Their arms trembled, their muscles screaming from the strain. The pauses between each push-up made it harder, sapping their strength.
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