Those materials were incredibly valuable—comparable to the Pure-Blood Library's archives, and not just anyone could get a look.
The club's strength largely came from this internal legacy. The sparks of like-minded young minds often produced what people called miracles—though sometimes, a forbidden flame could also be ignited.
After the secret club disbanded, both Dumbledore and a generation of dark lords advanced their power dramatically. You couldn't say that wasn't influenced by their earlier discussions.
Likewise, due to the existence of Death Eaters, that year's Slytherins were of unusually high quality—though most of them had taken detours along the way.
So, the club's materials were truly a gift in terms of value. Unfortunately, compared to resources that the system recognized directly, their benefits paled in speed and systematic inheritance.
But—catching a rabbit when you can't get a tiger is still meat. That didn't mean he should dismiss their worth.
Allen had been extremely lucky this time, managing to extract an entire professor's research topics in one go. That kind of jackpot was rare—winning big and feeling happy was enough; he couldn't expect it to happen every day.
Yes—Allen had a very good mindset.
Unfortunately, luck doesn't protect you from trouble. And this wasn't minor trouble—it was the kind that could affect Allen's daily life.
——
When a person sits at home, trouble falls from the sky.
Of course, this time, the trouble didn't appear out of nowhere—it was one Allen had brewed himself.
The reason was simple: he'd performed too well today.
A student who could chat with a professor like that naturally became the center of attention. Gossip spreads fast, but among wizard students, news about top-performing students spreads even faster. Especially since Allen had nearly mastered a professor's lifetime of research—equivalent to picking up a bag of Galleons on the street.
A top student hitting the jackpot—this kind of news spreads like wildfire.
Even though Allen had only spent a day in the club, almost the entire school knew by now.
In a community of bored wizards, gossip spreads like this—sometimes with… enhancements.
What kind of enhancements?
Add some exciting details—ideally involving attractive companions. That's how the news becomes explosive. Reality? Who cares about that!
In England, there was a famous journalist, a correspondent for the Daily Prophet, who was also an illegal Animagus. She thrived on fabricating news.
She once did an interview with Harry and, of course, added Hermione into the story. Even classmates who'd known her for four years believed the report over their own eyes—truth was boring; sensational news was exciting.
Just like a young female witch makes the story of a savior more compelling, a top student like Allen needed an eye-catching companion.
And that's when news collided with more news.
Last night, there had been a story: Marshall had supposedly been dumped by two girls—both quite prominent.
One was a Hufflepuff prefect, the other a local "big sister" figure.
By today, the story had turned into fake news—Marshall had been happily feeding everyone with proof of his dating life.
Then, the question arose—what about the other girl?
Some creative mind simply pinned Allen as her partner—after all, two top students together seemed natural. As for what the people involved thought? Who cared!
Local wizards compared notes with Hogwarts students—turns out she often bullied classmates! Perfectly compatible with the local big sister! Both were top students, groomed by professors. Wow, could this be more perfect?
Then, noticing Marshall and Allen were roommates… well, obviously the gossipers had seen something wrong in the dim light yesterday. The miKaoruderstanding had begun! No need to ask—the big sister must have had a conflict with this Allen guy.
Marshall—performing well but clearly no match for Allen in terms of catching the big sister's attention. Yes, it had to be him.
And so, a rumor began to spread like wildfire.
Eventually, even those who witnessed events firsthand began to doubt their own eyes—had magic altered their perception?
Yes, eventually they believed it.
But of course, there are always skeptics.
Their roommate knew the truth—but no one listened. Meanwhile, Alisa hadn't spread the gossip herself, but she enjoyed the story. Marshall had attempted to refute it but was overwhelmed by everyone else's assumptions.
Rumors are terrifying like that.
Although everyone was giddy with gossip, one person was clearly not happy, the girl involved.
Allen had spent the afternoon poring over materials, unaware. Meanwhile, some of Kaoru's close friends even suggested bringing relatives to "observe" Allen—boys were intimidated, but girls weren't afraid to confront the local big sister.
"Allen? Who is he?" Kaoru rolled her eyes at the girl questioning her—she knew nothing. Since yesterday's heartbreak, she had been practicing karate to vent, which didn't help much, but at least improved her mood.
"Oh, come on—Kaoru, you're hiding something, aren't you? They're saying you're a perfect match for that Hogwarts super-genius. No wonder you've been acting weird!"
"Exactly! Don't pretend! The story's out—at first they almost spread a rumor that you were with his roommate. Isn't that slander? By the way, Kaoru, honestly—what does love feel like?"
Love? Kaoru couldn't really describe it. But she did finally remember who Allen was—the roommate of that jerk.
She also realized something—Marshall had chosen the other girl, and now public opinion was linking her to Allen.
From love comes jealousy—simple enough. Allen, oblivious, watched the surrounding classmates' hints, completely unaware. He still thought this was just the aftermath of the morning's gossip and assumed it would die down soon.