The twin's impromptu, pain-fueled wrestling match quickly dissolved into loud, mutual laughter, drawing the curious gazes of most of the students still lingering in the Great Hall.
Albert, meanwhile, executed a swift and silent retreat. He subtly shifted his chair away from the lingering danger zone, adopting a completely neutral expression that signaled to anyone watching that he was absolutely, positively not associated with the two red-headed spectacles rolling on the floor.
He opened his notebook—the camouflaged access point to his System Panel—and began the satisfying work of allocating his newfound Skill Point into the freshly acquired Potion Mastery talent.
The initial feeling was a profound, almost electric spike of intellectual clarity. The abstract, poorly understood concepts of ingredient volatility, sympathetic magic, and precise temperature regulation that had always felt hazy when reading through textbooks suddenly snapped into sharp, crystalline focus.
[Talent Update]
Potion Mastery Current Level: 1 Upgrade to Level 2? (Cost: 1 Skill Point)
He confirmed the upgrade instantly. The talent wasn't just a passive boost; it felt like a complete, internal library upgrade, turning his intuition for potion-making from a Level 1 guess into a solid, Level 2 probability calculation.
He now instinctively knew why certain mixtures failed and how to compensate for subtle variations in heat or humidity. The single Skill Point felt more valuable than all the experience he'd earned that day combined.
As the twins finally dusted themselves off, Lee Jordan slid into the recently vacated seat next to Albert, shaking his head at the chaos his friends had created.
"Seriously, Anderson. That's why you punched him with your head, right? Because they deserve it?" Lee asked, grinning. "And what were you spacing out over? Was it worth the concussion risk?"
"I was contemplating the immediate future," Albert said vaguely, flipping the pages of the notebook, pretending to consult his notes. "I returned the gold membership card to Hetok. I was merely curious what level of appreciation a reclusive Potion Master might show for such a service."
Lee Jordan blinked. "You? Curious about a thank-you gift? I thought you operated solely on calculated self-interest. As far as I can recall, you've never cared about small tokens of gratitude."
Lee trailed off, then his eyes narrowed in sudden realization. "Hold on. You just changed the subject, didn't you? You didn't want to talk about why you were statuesque."
The chime of a bell above the Hall interrupted their conversation. A large, long-eared owl swooped low, its flight path unerringly aimed at their table. It dropped a small, oddly heavy package directly into Albert's lap.
Albert smiled, genuinely amused by the cinematic timing of the System's reward confirmation. "Speak of the Devil, Jordan. Here comes the answer to my 'curiosity' now."
Lee Jordan was speechless. The twins, alerted by the owl's arrival, immediately abandoned their mock fight and converged on the table.
"What's the package, Albert?" Angelina, who was walking past and overheard the commotion, asked, sitting down abruptly. "Did you just order a rare textbook or something?"
"A thank-you gift, apparently," Albert replied, casually shaking the package. He tore into the simple brown wrapping immediately.
Inside was a piece of folded, heavy parchment sealed with a foreign crest, and nestled beside it, a small, corked glass vial containing a liquid that shimmered with the color of molten gold—a mesmerizing, syrupy brilliance that caught the light and seemed to glow with internal energy.
Lee Jordan's jaw went slack. "What… what is that? I've never seen a potion that color."
"It's Felix Felicis," Albert announced without the slightest hesitation, having already identified the unmistakable liquid and confirmed it with the letter in his hand. "Also known as Liquid Luck. One or two teaspoons are generally enough for a full day of mild, persistent good fortune."
"Liquid Luck?" Angelina repeated, staring intently at the glass vial.
Fred, now recovered from his head-butt and drawn by the powerful magic of the potion, reached out and snatched the vial from Lee Jordan's slack grip, holding it up to the light. "The legendary Luck Potion? I want to try this right now." He made a dramatic, exaggerated motion of tipping the potion down his throat.
"Who in the world sent you that?" George demanded, his voice a mixture of awe and avarice.
"Potion Master Hetok," Albert supplied, finally unfolding the accompanying letter and confirming the details. "It seems he was quite pleased with the return of his membership card. He mentioned he considered it a 'fair valuation of professional integrity and discretion.'"
"A fair valuation?!" George took the bottle from Fred, looking utterly dumbfounded. "You're already incredibly lucky, Albert! Now, after drinking this, your luck will just explode into an unholy magical singularity!" He stared at the shimmering gold liquid, then, with visible restraint, handed the vial back to Albert, who promptly tucked it securely into an inner pocket of his robes.
"It's important to understand that Felix Felicis doesn't actually generate good luck," Albert explained, finally summarizing the contents of Hetok's letter. He was already internally processing the potion's properties based on his newly upgraded Potion Mastery.
"It enhances the drinker's mental and physical acuity—making their mind sharper, their reflexes quicker, their movements smoother. It allows the drinker to perceive and select the most advantageous course of action in any given situation, thus generating the effect of good luck. Unfortunately, as a complex compound, it's highly volatile and can become violently poisonous if brewed incorrectly or consumed in excess."
"Wait, poisonous?" Fred asked, momentarily forgetting his desire for luck. "You sound like you've looked into the dosage too much. You don't mean to tell us you're actually considering drinking this regularly, do you?"
The group stared at Albert again, genuinely concerned this time. The man was already a prodigy; if he started augmenting his skill with liquid luck, he'd become an unstoppable, game-breaking force.
"There's barely enough for two significant doses in that bottle," Angelina reminded him, clearly trying to appeal to his sense of magical conservation.
"Don't worry about the supply," Albert reassured them, an easy smile on his face. "Once my brewing skills are properly tuned, I fully intend to create a stable supply. Once I've succeeded, you'll all have a chance to sample it."
Lee Jordan dramatically clutched his neck, making gurgling noises. "You have to believe me? I trust your intellect, Albert, but didn't you just say it's notoriously difficult to brew? What if you poison us all with your experimental batch?"
"You must have faith in my methods, Lee," Albert said, rising to his feet, tucking the potion securely against his chest. "Even if it's only a small sip every six months, imagine how much smoother our lives—and our academic careers—would be."
"He's got a point," George muttered to Fred. "But I genuinely thought you'd say you were going to sell it to some desperate fifth-year for a mountain of Galleons."
"Please, stop thinking only of the monetary gain, George," Albert chided lightly. "I must secure this. If I break or lose this vial, I would likely expire from sheer, unadulterated magical heartbreak."
He gave a small, friendly nod to the group and started walking briskly toward the Gryffindor tower, needing to get the incredibly valuable vial stored safely away.
The twins and Lee, however, were too energized by the glimpse of the golden liquid to let him go easily. They caught up to him in a deserted corridor near the main staircase.
"Wait, wait, Albert. Before you lock away your fate," Fred said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "We have to ask. With that bottle of Felix Felicis in hand, wouldn't this be the absolute best time to finally go after the hidden treasure in the Forbidden Forest?"
"You are still fixated on that?" Albert frowned, his gaze hardening into a silent glare. "Have you already forgotten the sensation of nearly being digested by a colossal Acromantula? Were the sticky webs and the scent of spider breath not sufficient deterrents?"
"That was last time," George argued, his face suddenly serious. "Last time, we were just three unprepared first-years with a shaky map. This time, we have the ultimate preparation: Liquid Luck. And if we do proper reconnaissance and learn the critical counter-spells…"
"The three of us, together, with luck on our side, could find anything," Fred finished, their twin synchronization kicking in.
"The three of you?" Lee Jordan interjected, swinging a frustrated fist at the air. "You devious scoundrels! You're excluding me again! And anyway, didn't Albert swear he threw the actual treasure map away in the woods? How can you find a hidden treasure without the necessary guide?"
"Do you actually believe him, Lee?" Fred asked, looking at Jordan with a patronizing expression that clearly said, You poor, naive fool. "Albert fabricates reality for fun. Even if he did throw the map into the Forbidden Forest, he's definitely got a backup, or knows how to conjure the original."
"That's an insulting look, Fred," Lee grumbled, crossing his arms.
"He's right, Lee," George added, his voice low. "You've been roommates with him for months and still haven't grasped his true nature. Albert's statements are often 90% truth, but that remaining 10% is the critical piece that turns it into a self-serving lie."
"No," Albert interjected, shaking his head firmly, cutting off their rapid-fire speculation. "I want to live a few more years. I have no interest in risking a return to the deepest sectors of the forest right now. Especially not to be dragged off and eaten by a vengeful giant spider."
"Vengeful?" Fred scoffed. "You make it sound like they remember you."
"Do you still have the map, Albert?" Lee Jordan asked, ignoring the twins.
"I told you already, I disposed of it in the woods," Albert repeated, shrugging off the pressure. This time, he was speaking the technical truth, though he omitted the detail that he'd immediately Summoned it back.
"Liar," Fred said instantly, a challenging pout on his face. "Just use the Summoning Charm now and prove it's gone."
"I don't know that spell," Albert said, shrugging again, feigning ignorance of the Accio incantation.
The three of them exchanged another look, confirming their belief that Albert was simply lying for tactical reasons. Their discussion was abruptly halted as they rounded the corner and nearly collided with a passing figure: Professor Smith, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, whose eyes lit up upon spotting Albert.
"Anderson, just the man I needed to see," Smith said, his voice brimming with a nervous, intense energy that often accompanied his sporadic bouts of research enthusiasm.
"Professor Smith, do you need something?" Albert asked, slightly surprised by the professor's eagerness.
"My research on the Boggarts! It's yielded tangible results!" Smith exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. "Come with me, I have the photographs. This is a discovery of the utmost importance. Why did it take us this long to realize the simplicity of using a long exposure photographic charm to capture the Boggart's default state?"
"I'll catch up with you three later," Albert said to his friends, intrigued despite himself.
The three Gryffindors watched Albert and Professor Smith disappear down the hall. "Boggart research, huh?" Lee Jordan mused. "I wonder what the eccentric professor actually figured out this time."
Albert followed Smith to his office. The professor practically vibrated with excitement as he pushed open the wooden door and ushered Albert inside.
"I photographed the Boggart's true form with my camera—it took several hours of specialized magical exposure, but I got it!" Smith reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a handful of heavy, glossy, black-and-white photographs.
The images showed a constantly churning, swirling mass—a formless, roiling cloud of pure, concentrated shadow, like a tightly wound vortex of smoke. "The Boggart truly doesn't have a default physical form, Anderson! It is a kind of parasitic, amorphous magical energy! We've confirmed the hypothesis!"
"That's an incredible insight, Professor Smith," Albert said, genuinely impressed. "It changes the entire academic understanding of the creature."
"I will be submitting this important discovery to The Incremental Innovations in Magic journal immediately," Smith announced, his chest puffed out with pride.
"Congratulations, Professor," Albert said, offering a sincere smile.
"No, Anderson, congratulations to you as well. You played a crucial role," Professor Smith countered, looking earnest. "It was your initial suggestion about treating the Boggart as a non-physical entity for analysis that led to this methodology. I am thinking of adding your name to the co-authorship."
Albert shook his head, refusing the offer, sensing a greater opportunity. "That is your academic field, Professor, and I thank you for the honor, but I must refuse. However, if you feel indebted to me, you could instead dedicate a few hours of your time to tutoring me in some of the more practical, useful Charms or, perhaps, giving me an introductory course in Alchemy."
Smith's excited expression softened into a complicated look. He scratched his chin. "Tutelage, you say? Your practical skills are exceptional, Anderson, but your foundational Alchemy is indeed rudimentary. I can certainly help you there." Smith nodded decisively.
"It is a scandal that Hogwarts does not teach Alchemy as a proper course. The subject requires a relatively high level of prior magical knowledge, and frankly, the resources in the Hogwarts library are laughably insufficient. Most serious practitioners have to study it independently after graduation."
He paused, a flicker of doubt returning to his eyes. "Still, I insist on adding your name. It's simply not right to appropriate a contributor's work."
Albert, realizing he couldn't dissuade the principled professor, merely inclined his head in silent acceptance.
"By the way, I heard a ridiculous rumor about you and the Weasleys earlier. Something about the Forbidden Forest and a hidden treasure?" Professor Smith suddenly asked, his expression now one of severe professorial worry. "Anderson, that forest is a guaranteed death trap, especially in its deeper reaches. Do not be fooled by old maps or childish whims."
"I'm aware, Professor," Albert nodded.
"What exactly were those Weasleys discussing out there?" Smith pressed, clearly suspicious.
"They were reflecting on a failed adventure from last term," Albert explained briefly. "They were lured into the woods by a supposed treasure map and barely escaped a nest of Acromantulas. I assured them I will personally see to it that they do not repeat such a mistake."
"Good," Smith said, nodding firmly. "The perimeter is manageable, but the depths are genuinely lethal. Do not make the mistake of relying on luck or bravado; no matter how many lives a young wizard believes they have, it will be too few to sacrifice to the Forest."
"Understood. I should be going now," Albert said, turning toward the door. He stopped suddenly, turning back with a polite smile. "Professor, that photograph of the Boggart's true form… May I possibly have one of the spares?"
"Of course, take it." Professor Smith didn't hesitate, gesturing to the stack of duplicates on the table.
Albert slipped the photograph into his robe pocket—an image of pure, swirling shadow—and finally took his leave.
"A hidden treasure, indeed," Smith muttered to himself, watching Albert's receding silhouette, a strange, thoughtful glint in his eye, perhaps already factoring a treasure hunt into a future Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson plan.
Albert had only walked a few steps down the corridor when he saw a student approaching from the opposite direction—a small, dark-haired boy who looked remarkably like a much younger, more timid version of Professor Smith. The boy glanced at Albert, hesitated, then continued quickly toward the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, knocking hesitantly on the wooden door.
That person… he looked like a miniature Smith, Albert mused, continuing his walk. It's almost certainly his son. So he must have been waiting for his father to finish teaching. No surprise there. Britain is a small world, and I suppose the Smith family tree isn't terribly expansive.
Albert soon reached the Gryffindor common room. He was relieved to find the dormitory empty. He immediately retrieved the Felix Felicis, placed it inside a sturdy wooden box, and locked the box securely into his drawer. He then applied a complex, layered Fidelius-like Warding Charm to the drawer—a protective enchantment far beyond the simple Alohomora counter-spell.
Even if a strong fifth-year tried to break the lock, they would merely sense an unnerving resistance and be psychically dissuaded from continuing the attempt.
Inside the warded drawer, alongside the liquid luck, were his personal research notes, his reliable camera, a protective bracelet he'd fashioned months ago, and… a folded, brittle, and highly accurate map to the hidden treasure.
Am I going to enter the Forbidden Forest? The idea was potent. Now, armed with Felix Felicis and his upgraded Potion Mastery, his chances of success were exponentially higher.
But the risk was still unacceptable. He needed to wait until his combat skills were further augmented, until the possibility of an unforeseen, instant-death scenario was reduced to near zero. Thrilling adventures were excellent for XP, but preserving his life remained the non-negotiable ultimate objective.
Just as Albert carefully put the map back into the drawer, securing the latch, the dormitory door burst open. Fred, George, and Lee Jordan tumbled inside, their laughter echoing off the stone walls. They spotted the map in Albert's hand—a moment before he released the drawer.
"See! I told you!" Fred crowed, pointing an accusing finger at Albert, a triumphant "I knew it!" expression plastered across his face. "The map was absolutely, positively still in Albert's possession!"
Albert calmly finished setting the Warding Charm, then shrugged at the trio. "Very well. You caught me. Now listen closely: Do not attempt to enter the Forbidden Forest until you are genuinely and completely ready. I will accompany you when I am."
The three boys exchanged astonished, delighted glances.
"See? I told you Albert was just waiting for the right moment! He loves adventure too much to let that treasure go!" George said, slapping Albert's shoulder in a display of triumphant camaraderie. "When are you going to teach us the anti-spider spell?"
"The mere Spider-Repelling Charm is utterly insufficient if you truly wish to navigate the Forest safely and find that treasure," Albert shook his head, his tone now grave. "Even if you learned the incantation today, you would still, inevitably, be ambushed and eaten by the Acromantulas."
"Why?" Lee Jordan asked, utterly confused.
"Because the giant eight-eyed spider's greatest weapon isn't their poison or their size," Fred explained, his face sobering instantly as he recalled his trauma. "It's their ability to ambush. Deep in the woods, the moment an Acromantula successfully springs a surprise attack, you're already finished."
"But you survived last time!" Lee protested.
"Last time, those giant spiders weren't focused on a killing blow," George elaborated, nodding to Albert. "They were more territorial and curious. But now? Albert saved us by single-handedly knocking down a veritable army of them. I guarantee those intelligent spiders harbor a deep, magical grudge."
"Do they hold grudges?" Lee swallowed hard.
"They can communicate and they are highly intelligent, Lee," Fred affirmed, his voice low and serious. "The next time they encounter us, they won't be playing. They'll likely kill us outright, slowly, and probably tell their whole family about it."
Albert felt a wave of internal satisfaction. Good. The twins were not approaching this with reckless bravado, but with a cautious, intelligent understanding of the genuine, high-level threat. "It seems you're not embarking on this journey to your deaths on a mere whim after all."