Having obtained all the information he wanted, Allen carefully evaded several hidden patrols around Ilvermorny and quickly made his way into the miniature Hogwarts castle.
Although prefects patrolled the castle halls, none of them even came close to sensing Allen's presence. After all, the stealth magic he had learned from the Widow wasn't something that could be so easily detected, if it were, she wouldn't be one of the most expensive assassins in all of Valoran.
Seated on his bed, Allen began to digest the information he'd extracted, more accurately, forced out of the Ministry of Magic.
So-called "collaborative exchange"? It was nothing more than a typical joint development project.
But if something felt off, it was this: a third party had gotten involved in something that originally concerned only two groups. That third party? The British Ministry of Magic.
And the thing being "developed" or more accurately "dug up"? A laboratory.
Every ambitious wizard capable enough to pursue advanced magic would eventually build their own lab. Luna's mother, for example, lost her life in a magical experiment gone wrong.
Whether it was brewing dangerous potions that took months to complete, crafting enchanted tools, or researching dark magic, none of these could be accomplished in ordinary spaces. Not every wizard could brew complex potions in a bathroom like a certain prodigy, especially when they hadn't even practiced the recipe before.
Even the financially struggling Weasley family had a garage specially set aside for Mr. Weasley's obsession with Muggle artifacts. He even rewrote the law to protect his little hobby.
Of course, not all laboratories are equal. Mr. Weasley's workspace was just a broken-down garage. But the lab now being fought over by several major factions, ahem, I mean jointly developed in the spirit of cooperation, had an impressive origin.
It was the laboratory of Gormlaith Gaunt.
The name itself may not sound remarkable, she's not particularly famous in magical history.
But anyone deeply knowledgeable about magical bloodlines would be shocked upon hearing it.
Why? Because her name appears in the earliest, most sacred genealogical records of pure-blood wizard families. Two crystal-clear lines can be drawn from her name, one leading to Salazar Slytherin, and the other to Isolt Sayre, one of the founders of Ilvermorny.
Gormlaith Gaunt was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, both by blood and legacy.
She was so powerful that she nearly destroyed Ilvermorny single-handedly. What Ilvermorny inherited from Slytherin's legacy came only because one of its founders, her niece, fled Gormlaith's home and stole a fragment of her magical heritage.
The item now being fought over was the key to Gormlaith's laboratory, a replica of a letter found alongside the lab itself. The letter was an invitation from Gormlaith to a pure-blooded young wizard, whom she had chosen to become her apprentice, a successor to her magic. She had written the letter after losing hope of finding her niece.
However, the letter was never sent.
Gormlaith had discovered that her runaway niece had married a Muggle and even had a child with him. Furious at what she saw as a betrayal of her bloodline, she abandoned the idea of taking an apprentice and went off in pursuit of her niece instead.
Though she ultimately fell to an ambush, her laboratory remained intact and continued functioning all these years, protected by powerful enchantments. So powerful, in fact, that the Ministry couldn't even enter it without risking total destruction.
Eventually, a wizard found the letter, left outside the lab in an owl cage beside the skeleton of the owl meant to deliver it. Starved to death.
But here was the miracle: testing revealed that the letter allowed young wizards who were of graduation age to bypass the protective spells and enter the lab unharmed. It was a huge breakthrough.
The Ministry's first attempt succeeded, though the young wizard returned severely injured. However, he brought back a magical item that confirmed the laboratory's origin.
This news rocked the higher ranks of the Ministry. Slytherin's legacy, right in front of them! The Wizarding Council saw a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If Ilvermorny could rise to become the greatest academy in North America with only a fraction of that legacy, then what if the Ministry claimed the rest? Wouldn't that let them rival the world's greatest magical powers? Maybe even go toe-to-toe with the British Ministry itself?
But of course, there's always a twist. The wizard who discovered the lab was sent by Ilvermorny.
He immediately passed the news to his headmaster.
The headmaster then boldly declared: "Slytherin's legacy has always belonged to Ilvermorny. We must claim it."
The British Ministry was, understandably, furious.
"I found it first!" "We discovered it!" "We were the ones studying the enchantments!" And so the tug-of-war began.
To avoid the conflict becoming public, Ilvermorny went over their heads and appealed to the higher magical authorities, figuring that half a loaf is better than none.
Unfortunately, the British Ministry believed that most of a loaf is better than half. So they approached another legitimate claimant to the lab's inheritance, Hogwarts.
But more hands on the loaf didn't mean more bread for everyone. The letter could only be copied twenty times. If too many were made, the anti-tampering magic, let's just call it "security enchantment", would be triggered.
And when that happens? Look no further than the trap laid for Dumbledore by a half-blooded Slytherin heir. That was why the Ministry, even with all its Aurors, hadn't attempted a full-blown raid.
With help from two major powers, Ilvermorny managed to secure fifteen of the letter copies. But now came the challenge of who would get them.
Allen had a good guess, if they were trying to retrieve something important from the lab, they'd obviously give the letters to the strongest young wizards.
Like himself.
After knocking someone out in class, he had "convinced" an unwilling professor to hand over a letter.
No wonder all those Slytherins were so desperate to come along. Allen had honestly believed they were just here for the books!
Books? What books could possibly compare to the personal notes of Slytherin's heir? Some musty old textbooks?
Allen's eyes gleamed as he stared at the parchment, wide and round, with a golden glow.
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