Ten minutes later.
Alan raised his fist and punched Tobias with all his might, sending him flying into the brick wall on the left.
"Get up, you damn bastard. It's time to work." He looked indifferently into the stunned man's face. "First, clean up and sit back down in this place until you get your next order."
"What?! How did you... WHAT?! Why can't I control my body?! What the hell did you do..." The man, now sober thanks to Snape, screamed furiously, standing up and heading toward the kitchen.
"Master." From this day on, you will call me master: you are now my slave. And do not take off the collar.
"I'm your father, you damn Master! Release me immediately, or else..."
"Hit yourself in the face, then shut up and start cleaning."
The next moment, the Muggle hit himself in the jaw. Looking furiously toward Alan, he took a rag and began wiping the tables.
The wizard himself, without even glancing at him, headed to the second floor where his room was located.
"Oh, I almost forgot: once you're done, until I get down, you'll stick a needle under your fingernails every minute. And if you run out, you'll pull them out and start over." The mage glanced at the table where the bottles of alcohol were scattered, waved his hand in their direction, and turned them into needles.
Ignoring the panic in the man's eyes, he headed to his room.
Bare walls, a single mattress with a pillow and blanket, and a small table greeted Snape.
"He's probably already sold the wardrobe, the bed, and all my things... I guess I was too soft on him..." Alan grumbled in disappointment, walking up to the wall and tapping his finger on three bricks.
A small section of the wall moved aside, revealing a small bag, a diary, and a case containing a simple-looking magic wand.
At the same time, a fragment of memory surfaced in the wizard's head: a very emaciated woman — in whom it was impossible to see the same beauty — looked at him with warmth, stroking his head with one hand and tapping on certain bricks with her wand with the other.
"...If something ever happens to me, take everything that is here, and don't come back here again. And don't ask the Princes for help..."
"Apparently, she herself understood that something was wrong, or maybe she was resentful." Alan muttered with a deep sigh, taking out a notebook and quickly flipping through a few pages.
Closing it and shaking his head, he shrank it and put it in his breast pocket.
The diary contained Eileen's story from the moment she entered her first year at Hogwarts: her thoughts and ideas, and a message addressed to her beloved son.
"I'll read later. Maybe I'll find a clue on this case. But now..." Taking out a pouch and a wand, he transformed the mattress into a chair and pushed it toward the table.
"An enchanted pouch with increased space, and also Eileen's wand." Opening the pouch — which contained only a couple of Galleons — he cast a bit of magic into it.
Right before his eyes, it began to fill with gold coins. Information about how many coins it contained appeared in his head.
"Four hundred and forty Galleons... And how did Eileen manage to save so much, considering she didn't work? Although... it's quite possible that this was a gift from the Princes." Reaching into the pouch, he pulled out a golden key and began examining it with mild interest.
"But she didn't tell me anything about this. Strange... I'll have to ask Macmillan about it when we meet, because this key is also an artifact..."
Having thrown all his things into a bag, the young man sprawled out on a chair and closed his eyes.
"Well, at least now I have money for everything I need. I should go to Diagon Alley tomorrow and stock up on all the ingredients for potions. Even though the descriptions for most of them match those in my world, it's still worth checking and creating a couple of potions. After all, I'll soon be fighting the Basilisk, and these creatures have good intelligence and protection from magic. So I'll need to find myself a sword: I can't go to him barehanded..."
While the wizard was deep in thought, there was a knock, and then several more.
Opening his eyes, he looked toward the window where a gray owl stood on the sill with a letter in its beak.
"He took a long time..." Alan rose from his chair, opened the window, and — smiling as he petted the feathered creature — took the letter.
He beckoned a Sickle from the pouch and placed it in the bird's beak.
With a satisfied hoot, it flew to the wizard's shoulder, rubbed its head, and quickly flew away.
"There's something about these owls." The young man muttered, looking at the envelope which had the Malfoy seal imprinted on it in wax.
"You could have just signed it..." He opened the envelope, took out the letter, sat down at the table, read it rather quickly, and then put it down with a smile.
"If you want to meet, no problem. I was just waiting for this..."
The wizard contacted Lucius for several reasons, but there were two main ones.
The first, of course, was his awareness of the situation in the world — because he knew much more about the Dark Lord, since he himself was a member of that very company and even called Severus more than once. But he constantly evaded this for the reason that he did not want to plunge even deeper into darkness, thereby further distancing himself from Lily.
The second was knowledge of Legilimency and Occlumency: the ability to penetrate and protect the mind.
While Alan was confident in protecting his mind, additional protection is never a bad thing.
Even in the past world, the Archmage had never mastered mind magic, as he simply lacked a gift for it.
So when the chance to learn it arose, he didn't want to miss out.
At Hogwarts, even in the closed section, there was only theory on the subject — but no actual practice or method of teaching.
Alan's stomach growled.
"I should probably go shopping, but..." He looked down at his robe, beneath which lay a shabby jacket slightly larger than the Archmage himself.
He shook his head, removing the robe.
He then closed his eyes, and an image of a man with medium-length, jet-black hair, dressed in a simple white shirt, dark thick pants, and high boots appeared in his mind.
And as soon as the young man opened his eyes, he smiled contentedly, seeing the very same clothes the man had been wearing.
"This really is much better..." He stretched slightly, feeling no constraint in his movements, and opened the door and left the room.
Having descended, the Archmage glanced out of the corner of his eye at Tobias, who was actively polishing the table.
Then, stretching out his hand, he said:
"Accio, pounds sterling."
Several bills and coins landed from the Muggle's pocket and from under the sofa in the wizard's hand.
"Almost ten pounds... not much, but enough for food."
Having thrown the money into his pocket and turned his magic wand into a needle, he left the house, heading toward the nearest store.
Alan took his time, strolling leisurely, taking in the city and the various wares on display — increasingly amazed by the ingenuity of the locals.
He was particularly impressed by the electronics.
But the price of even the most basic iron was horrendous — not to mention Muggle things like a television and a refrigerator for storing food.
Of course, Severus's family had one, but Tobias had already drunk it away. So Alan's house was devoid of any electronics.
The young man also had a passing interest in clothing.
Bright colors were the predominant fashion, which he disliked — because in his world, they were considered a target for enemies.
If you needed to hide somewhere or avoid attention, dark gray tones were much more suitable.
Snape wasn't particularly concerned with the appearance of clothing — only with practicality and comfort.
Having bought enough food for a couple of days, he returned home, where he was greeted by sobs and painful moans.
Right in front of the stairs stood Tobias, who — with red, swollen eyes — looked at Alan's indifferent face, sticking the tenth needle under his nail.
"And I forgot about you, to be honest. Well, don't worry: you can continue." He hissed, passing the man who was looking at his back with despair in his eyes.
"The gas, as I see, has also been turned off. Sadly, but I won't be here for long anyway." He said, taking an apple and a saucepan from the cupboard.
"So, water too... How did you even live here?" He used Aguamenti — a nonverbal spell — and water began to appear in the saucepan.
He dropped three eggs in, then used Pyrokinesis: a skill he was a true master of.
As a result, the water began to boil quite quickly under the powerful stream of flame.
For Alan, controlling flame was like breathing.
But the young man couldn't fully enjoy this destructive element at the moment because he simply lacked magic.
In his world, he had even earned the reputation of "Fire Calamity" for his masterful control over fire — as well as the black flames that made him the target of many Archmages, and even some Great Archmages.
In just a few seconds the eggs were cooked.
And after "dinner," the young man took one last look at Tobias and — after giving a few more commands — returned to his room...
The next day after breakfast — having locked Father Severus in the basement (who had been hammering his fingers on his left hand all night) and given him a new task until he returned: to break one finger every hour on his right hand while looking at that very portrait of Eileen and asking for forgiveness — Alan left the house.
Reaching the road, he pulled out his wand and waved it.
For the first few seconds nothing happened, which puzzled him a little.
But then a moment later, with a loud "BOOM!" a three-story purple bus materialized in front of him.
As soon as the door opened, Alan was greeted by a wildly grinning elderly driver wearing thick glasses.
"Get in, young man! That's eleven Sickles! Would you like a toothbrush or some cocoa?"
"Can I drink it?" He asked with a smile, gripping the handrail tighter.
"I'm not sure where to drop you off?"
"Leaky Cauldron."
"Then hold on tight..." The driver bared his teeth and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands.
The next moment, the bus disappeared...