Alan's icy warning—laden with words like St. Mungo's, magical explosion, and Wizengamot, enough to make any wizard's heart skip a beat—was ultimately unable to extinguish the fire burning in the hearts of the Weasley twins.
That flame, belonging to adventurers and inventors, only blazed hotter after a brief cooling.
"He's just too cautious, George."
"Exactly, Fred. A first-year, and he's acting like the rules matter more than real adventure?"
They felt that Alan's mind was trapped in the rigid boxes of the academic world.
But this was reproducing ink!
A miraculous creation brimming with infinite possibilities—how could it be, as Alan claimed, worthless and dangerously unstable?
Mountains of imaginary Galleons piled up in their minds.
So, on the third night after Alan's stern warning, when the castle corridors had fallen silent except for the occasional scrape of armor, the twins donned their Invisibility Cloaks and once again pushed through that intangible wall.
They slipped into the Room of Requirement.
"We need an absolutely safe lab, perfect for cultivating magical materials."
The ancient walls twisted and reformed in response to their desires. An oak door appeared, behind which lay a scene that made their hearts pound.
The room was astonishingly spacious. Shelves lined with countless flasks, beakers, and glass orbs of strange shapes towered under a vaulted ceiling. The air smelled faintly of a mixture of potions and herbs—a perfect dream laboratory come to life.
They exchanged a glance, seeing the uncontrollable fervor mirrored in each other's eyes.
Carefully, they brought out the precious bottle of "Intelligent Ink." Its deep, flowing blue seemed to contain a tiny night sky.
"Here we go, buddy," Fred whispered, tilting it toward a half-human-height copper cauldron.
The ink poured in, covering only a thin layer at the bottom.
"Now, let's feed it a little nutrition."
George retrieved several small packages from his pocket. Finely ground dragon liver powder was sprinkled in, sending ripples of red through the ink. A single silvery unicorn tail hair was added, causing the ink to explode with soft white light.
Finally, the twins pricked their fingers and added a few drops of their blood to the cauldron. The moment it mixed in, the ink seemed to awaken with life.
At first, everything was perfect beyond imagination.
The ink inside the cauldron churned violently, bursts of multicolored light exploding from it, illuminating the room like a dazzling nebula. No longer mere ink, it became a boiling, radiant miniature universe. Its volume expanded visibly, filling most of the cauldron within minutes. Powerful, yet gentle, magical waves radiated outward, warming the twins.
"Success! George! We're about to be millionaires!"
Fred's voice trembled with excitement as he spread his arms, ready to embrace the coming fortune.
But before he could finish, the celebration ended abruptly.
The brilliant "nebula" in the cauldron suddenly solidified. The swirling, billowing motion froze in an instant.
Then all the colors, all the light, collapsed as if sucked into an invisible black hole, converging frantically toward the cauldron's center.
Finally, they condensed into a small, unremarkable black dot that swallowed all light.
Dead silence.
The next moment, a terribly ominous, nauseating surge of energy erupted from that black point.
It was not magic—it was pure, chaotic, malevolent energy.
The ink, which had been "reproducing," underwent a horrifying transformation. It was no longer a nebula; it became a viscous, multicolored sludge with highly corrosive properties.
The sludge seemed to have a will of its own, writhing and rolling over the edges of the large copper cauldron, spilling onto the hard stone floor.
Sizzling!
The terrifying sound of strong acid corroding metal erupted through the room, thick black smoke rising into the air.
"Run!"
Fred screamed, his voice distorted with panic.
The twins watched in horror as prank items they had stored for half a semester—flying broom polish, edible black magic ink, portable dung bombs—were instantly dissolved and corroded on contact with the sludge.
They had no chance to resist, turning into black, smoking, foul-smelling waste.
Even the hard stone floor began to burn, forming fist-sized craters whose edges kept expanding, threatening to consume the entire surface.
The runaway "cultivation" experiment finally ended in a disaster, with a surge of dangerous energy and a sudden, violent eruption.
Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, her face tight with anger, wand tip glowing with a severe, warning light.
The twins were caught red-handed.
Not only had they destroyed all their "inventory," they had nearly burned through the floor of the Room of Requirement entirely.
As punishment, they were forced to spend a whole month thoroughly cleaning the cold, damp Potions cellar—using only the most primitive methods, without any magic.
Meanwhile, while the Weasley twins were battling slime, goo, and all sorts of disgusting potion residue in the freezing cellar, Alan sat quietly in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, bathed in the warm glow of the fireplace.
He had accomplished a major milestone in his academic life.
The table before him was covered with parchment filled with complex formulas and rune logic.
He had systematically organized all of his theories, thoughts, and countless mental simulations on "magical programming" since the start of term into a rigorously logical, thoroughly argued academic paper.
In it, he clearly outlined two core concepts: Spell Modularization and Automated Magical Implementation.
He boldly predicted that this would be the next revolution in the field of magic, following the systematic decoding of ancient runes. It would completely transform how wizards learn and use magic.
At the end of the paper, in steady and confident handwriting, he signed his name:
Alan Scott, Hogwarts First Year
He then carefully placed this paper—capable of shaking the entire magical academic community—into a brand-new envelope.
On the envelope's title line, he wrote the paper's title: On the Modular Combination and Automated Implementation of Spells.
The recipient address was the most prestigious magical academic journal: The Journal of Magical Theory and Innovation.
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