Clubs—well, the most important thing about them is like-mindedness. Sounds fancy, right? But swap the words around, and it's basically just a bunch of people who enjoy the same thing hanging out together—suddenly, it feels very down-to-earth.
Hogwarts doesn't have many clubs, in fact, almost none. The main reason is the school's ridiculously strict club management. When Harry and friends tried to form a small club on their own, what happened?
They got arrested—real arrest, not just a slap on the wrist for breaking rules. Sure, Umbridge seized the opportunity to stir trouble, but even without her interference, having so many people intervene just because Harry created an "illegal club" was enough for the Ministry of Magic.
Even Dumbledore couldn't squash this little club at first. He had to leave the school temporarily to secure Harry's freedom—showing just how strict Hogwarts really is when it comes to clubs.
Of course, such strict rules didn't appear out of nowhere. Dumbledore himself bears some responsibility. After graduating, before becoming the Transfiguration professor, he formed a two-person club with a clear goal: to reshape the magical world for a "greater good."
In other words—their first aim was to gain control over the entire magical world.
And this isn't just speculation; it almost came true. That two-person team? One became the greatest white/black wizard after Merlin, the other… the most feared dark wizard before Voldemort—the first Dark Lord, Grindelwald.
If these two young men had successfully collaborated, there's no doubt magical history would have been rewritten. But the club eventually fell apart due to unforeseen circumstances, leaving Dumbledore with endless painful memories.
Another case Dumbledore personally witnessed also cast a shadow over countless wizards—and it was another secret club.
Its leader? The second Dark Lord—Tom Riddle.
And the members had a ridiculously dramatic name that terrified countless wizards: the Death Eaters.
This small club even advanced further toward world domination than the one Dumbledore created. The wizards in it even coined a special title for their master: "The Dark One."
Both clubs left Dumbledore with bad memories. So, when the Ministry bAnnied students from forming random clubs, the proposal passed easily. That's why formal clubs at Hogwarts are almost nonexistent.
Compared to Hogwarts, Mahoutokoro students had more free time outside classes (they start school at seven) and faced less interference from club regulations. Their club culture was more active, even having dedicated spaces—a fact Allen had learned from Zongze.
But Allen didn't expect a club to be this over-the-top, decorating their meeting room like… this.
No kidding—this was peak middle-school-tier drama. There was no better word.
A simple wooden building, yet filled with strange, eclectic props: crosses, tarot cards, dried garlic, what looked like mass-produced swords prayer beads, floating dust, even feng shui compasses…
Honestly, this didn't feel like a wizard club room. It was more like a market stall at a tourist attraction—something for everyone, one item ten bucks, three for twenty, no bargaining.
Allen even started scanning for instant noodles and bottled water—was he on a sightseeing tour?
Soon, though, he realized this was no tour. Before he could properly admire the chaotic collection of magical knick-knacks, someone spotted him.
"Excuse me—are you here for the exchange? I'm sorry, this is our private club space, not included in this event. If you have no business here, please leave immediately. Only members may enter."
Translation: if you don't belong, scram.
Finally, Allen understood what the twins meant by "this club has personality." Zongze had said that for this exchange event, any registered club would receive a 50% increase in funding for the school year, no exceptions.
As a wizard who liked accumulating Galleons, Allen respected this level of authority.
So, even though he'd been told to leave, Allen didn't walk off—he simply gave his name.
Then—under Allen's gaze, the other person's expression completely flipped. From barely hiding a glare to a warm smile:
"Ah—Allen-san! My apologies—I thought you would come with the two Weasley brothers. I didn't expect you to come alone. Forgive my earlier rudeness—"
The wizard bowed politely, startling Allen.
What the heck?
We're meeting for the first time. I just gave my name. Am I that terrifying?
This wasn't a normal person. The twins had vouched for the club—this was no scam. If you didn't meet their standards, forget being acknowledged; even getting basic courtesy from them was rare. Not even Ron received such attention (J.K. Rowling herself said the twins didn't pay much attention to their brother).
This club had both skill and strict standards. They'd rather forfeit additional funding than let outsiders sneak in.
And Allen, having naturally held this organization in respect, was now shocked—he'd earned genuine respect just by giving his name?
It wasn't fake—he could see sincerity in their eyes.
By Merlin… Allen thought, recalling his recent actions. He had to know why he was treated this way; otherwise, goosebumps would cover him—what was this inexplicable show about?
Although satisfying, Allen knew one old saying too well: "No good deed goes unexamined; either fraud or foul play is afoot."
Instinctively, he scAnnied the surroundings.
The building was old but well-maintained under magical protection. Its interior was expanded several times, with defensive and even offensive spells embedded. Combined with the strange lighting, it was a perfect place for scheming.
So, they planned this for me?
Allen smirked—these people were about to despair.