Dorfen and Cedric

Back in the Ravenclaw common room, Aldric spotted Franklin wandering aimlessly and decided to ask him for help in finding the Hufflepuff student who had that special drink. From his recent experience, Aldric was amazed at how effective the beverage was at restoring mental energy. 

Every time he finished meditating and drank a cup, he felt his spirit recharge much faster. Even when he pushed his mental limits, though not too far, it didn't affect his studies or daily life the next day. And best of all, it tasted fantastic! 

Before long, they reached the Hufflepuff common room. Unlike the others, Hufflepuff's lounge didn't have a locked door; anyone could just walk right in. But that was never a problem, since right next door was Hogwarts' kitchen, home to hundreds, even thousands, of house-elves.

These elves had lived there for generations, safe from the near-extermination during the goblin rebellion thanks to Helga Hufflepuff herself, who had brought them to Hogwarts. For thousands of years, these house-elves had faithfully protected Hufflepuff House out of gratitude for her kindness. 

That's why the common room didn't need locks, the elves were always on guard. Their combat skills rivaled those of adult wizards, and any unwanted intruders were quickly dealt with. 

Unfortunately for Aldric, he was exactly that kind of intruder, he had come looking for that magical drink's recipe and wasn't above using some pressure to get it. Guided by Franklin, Aldric soon met a young wizard named Dorfen Fawley. 

The Fawley family was one of the 28 pure-blood families, and nearly all of them had graduated from Hufflepuff. But because they had supported Dumbledore, Voldemort had mercilessly slaughtered most of the family.

Dorfen was now the only Fawley left at Hogwarts. Aldric wasn't surprised that such an old pure-blood family had a potion that restored mental energy, though it seemed they didn't realize its true value and just thought of it as a tasty drink. 

This was an unexpected stroke of luck for Aldric. Dorfen looked startled when he saw Aldric and the others and tried to run, but Franklin grabbed him firmly and pulled him back. 

Aldric looked down at the small boy, who was almost a head shorter, and spoke gently, "You're Dorfen, right? Thanks so much for the drink, it's honestly the best I've ever had." Dorfen relaxed a bit, sensing no threat, and replied, "That's because my mom made it."

"My mom makes the best drinks in the world," Dorfen said proudly.

Aldric, still a little shaky from earlier, looked at him with a soft smile. "Your mom makes it? Lucky you to have someone who'll make drinks for you. I've never even met my mom, I'm an orphan," he said quietly, sympathy coloring his voice. 

"Do you have any more of those drinks? I really liked it, it reminded me of my mom. Or better yet, do you know how to make it? If you teach me, I won't have to keep bothering you every time."

Dorfen's eyes grew wide at the idea of Aldric coming back again. He quickly said, "I do know how, I do! Mom taught me. I can tell you now, it starts with orange juice…"

"Wait a second, Dorfen," Aldric interrupted, noticing the boy counting ingredients on his fingers. "Why don't you just grab some paper and write it down? That'll be a lot easier."

Hearing that, Dorfen turned on his heel and bolted toward the dormitories, clearly eager to escape the awkward tension still hanging in the air. Aldric watched him go, then let out a low whistle, grinning as he glanced at Franklin. "Well, that was easier than I thought," he murmured.

Franklin beamed, entirely oblivious to the layers behind the exchange. His grin stretched wide, revealing a set of unusually bright, almost comically perfect teeth. Aldric blinked. 'Dam,' he thought. 'Kid's teeth could blind a Hippogriff.'

Before long, Dorfen came trotting back, clutching a crumpled bit of parchment scribbled full of ingredients. Aldric took it without so much as a glance, folding it neatly and slipping it into his pocket like it was nothing more than a shopping list.

"Appreciate it, Dorfen," he said, patting the boy lightly on the shoulder. "From now on, you've got a friend. If you ever need anything, anything at all, you come find me."

Dorfen hesitated. "Er… thanks," he muttered, then added quickly, "But we've got Cedric to help us. You can go now."

Aldric raised his eyebrows, amused. "Cedric Diggory, yeah? Heard of him. Hufflepuff's golden boy. Always surrounded, always smiling."

He leaned in just a little, voice quieter but somehow sharper. "But tell me, can he really help everyone? When things go wrong, will he stand up and fight? He's a nice bloke, sure, but nice doesn't always win."

Aldric straightened again, the faintest grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Me? I don't let my friends get pushed around. Anyone tries it, they regret it."

There was a pause. Dorfen didn't reply, but his breathing quickened ever so slightly, and his gaze dropped to the floor.

Aldric said nothing more. He didn't have to. He could already see the spark, uncertainty mixed with admiration, beginning to flicker behind the boy's eyes. It wouldn't take much. 

At that age, loyalty was everything. A few kind words, a bit of attention, and suddenly you weren't just a friend, you were a hero. And heroes, as Aldric knew all too well, had influence.

The Fawleys might have been fading, but their vaults weren't empty, and Aldric had plans. Dorfen might be useful yet. With that thought warming his mood, Aldric turned and strolled off down the corridor, Franklin trailing behind him.

They'd barely rounded the corner when a voice cracked through the air like a curse, awkward and adolescent, "Hey! You two, stop right there!"

Aldric was fuming. He'd barely finished basking in his little performance for Dorfen when the very person he least wanted to see strolled through the archway of the Hufflepuff common room. And of course, it had to be Cedric Diggory.

Cedric was everything Hogwarts liked to parade about, handsome, clever, kind, and maddeningly decent. He was the sort of student professors praised without hesitation and whom younger students looked up to with starry eyes. The kind of boy who could defuse a duel with a handshake.

Aldric watched him approach, jaw tight. If the Diggorys hadn't been so thoroughly entrenched in Hufflepuff, Aldric would've sworn Cedric belonged in Slytherin. Not for ambition, exactly, but for how well he played the game.

The Diggorys weren't among the fabled Sacred Twenty-Eight, but they didn't need to be. Their strength came from elsewhere.