Chapter 90: Remarks in the Lunch
"Kate, pass me the sauce, will you?"
At the Ravenclaw table, Alexander Smith smiled politely, nodding to the third-year girl as he reached across for the jug. Lunch had just begun, and the noise in the Great Hall was already growing louder, voices from four Houses mixing into a casual din.
Beside him, Terry Boot was poking at his potatoes, while Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein debated heatedly whether Quidditch or Wizard Chess was the more "strategic" of the two.
"Seriously, the Seeker just zips around like a hummingbird," Anthony said. "There's no strategy in that—just fast eyes and a Firebolt."
Michael rolled his eyes. "Tell that to Oliver Wood and the four hundred pages of playbook he's compiled."
Alexander listened with half an ear, his attention instead focused on a small floating menu of glowing runes in his mind's eye. The interface shimmered briefly, sorting out what he now categorized as a "Background Skill Thread" — something he'd developed after months of weaving mental patterns through his thinking system.
Across the hall, Hermione sat with Harry and Ron, who were trying to remember how many inches their Charms homework needed to be. Judging from Ron's flailing gestures, it wasn't going well.
Kate nudged him. "You're zoning out again."
"Am I?" Alexander blinked and took a bite of his pumpkin pie. "Just thinking about Dumbledore."
"That's not something most people say casually during lunch," Penelope Clearwater remarked from a little further down the table, smirking as she flipped through her Transfiguration notes.
"It's about what he said in class yesterday," Alexander explained. "About how certain types of emotional focus can actually reshape the way we cast spells."
Kate tilted her head. "You mean like love magic?"
Alexander gave her a slightly wry smile. "Something like that. More like… intention magic. How you feel when you cast influences the nature of the result. Dumbledore just calls it 'love' because he's Dumbledore."
"You mean the thing you've been experimenting with since first year?" Penelope asked, narrowing her eyes. "That kind of 'love'?"
"Sure," Alexander replied nonchalantly, but his voice had an undertone of seriousness. "Though lately I've found that... love, as an emotional wavelength, actually has amplifying properties in spell matrices."
Kate raised an eyebrow. "Now you're just making stuff up."
"I'm not. It's real. It's like—well, here." He tapped the wooden table lightly, and from under his palm a faint warmth pulsed. A rune briefly flashed — harmless, subtle, but undeniably magical.
Penelope's eyes widened. "Was that a silent incantation?"
"Yup," he said, chewing on a spoonful of mashed peas. "Using the emotion thread instead of the verbal trigger. A shortcut."
"You're ridiculous," Kate muttered, but her smile betrayed her admiration. "So now you can do 'silent spellcasting powered by love'? What's next, friendship-powered teleportation?"
Alexander grinned, shrugging modestly. "You joke, but I wouldn't rule it out."
Further down, some of the Ravenclaws had started chatting about the latest Daily Prophet article concerning strange tremors in Eastern Europe. Someone mentioned Gringotts security being heightened, and the possibility of international magic conflicts sparking again.
Alexander didn't comment. His mind was already several steps ahead. He knew that whatever was happening in Eastern Europe was most likely linked to the same magical pulse he'd sensed a week ago during meditation. It had the signature of dark alchemy, but also a peculiar... resonance. Something like the remnants of a failed Horcrux rebinding. But he needed more data.
The subject drifted again as Penelope pulled out a copy of Magical Combat: Strategy & Spirit and asked Alexander for his opinion on multi-angle barrier incantations.
"You need anchor points," he said thoughtfully, leaning over her open page. "Minimum of three, though five gives you better structure. The key is maintaining mana flow evenly across the hexagram."
Behind them, Anthony groaned. "Can we not talk about homework over mashed potatoes?"
"Some of us enjoy learning," Penelope snapped.
"Some of us enjoy digestion," Anthony retorted.
Just then, Harry and Ron passed by, clutching half-finished sandwiches and looking exasperated.
"Hey, Alex," Harry called. "Do you have any tips for writing 7 inches of Charms theory without it sounding like complete rubbish?"
Alexander smiled knowingly. "Just drop by the lounge after lunch. I'll show you how to pad your writing with etymology and context. Hermione will hate me for it, but you'll get it done."
"Deal," said Harry, immediately brightening.
As lunch drew to a close and the plates began vanishing, Alexander leaned back in his seat. His senses sharpened. Deep within the castle — far below the Great Hall — he could feel a distant flicker of magical activity. Something ancient. Something watching.
But not yet.
Not today.
He smiled again.
"Come on, guys," he said, standing up and brushing crumbs from his robes. "Let's get to work."
And just like that, another ordinary lunch ended — with subtle murmurs of power beneath the surface, unnoticed by most but not by him.
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