The next morning, the sun was high in the sky by the time Albert and his roommates finally peeled themselves away from their mattresses. They hadn't just slept; they had effectively slipped into a minor coma, exhausted by the adrenaline and the late-night cocoa in the Room of Requirement. By the time they wandered down to the Great Hall, it was nearly noon, and the Saturday brunch crowd was already thick with gossip.
As they walked through the corridors, the air was buzzing. You couldn't walk ten feet without hearing words like "explosion," "Voldemort," or "Peeves" being tossed around. The "Library Earthquake" of 1990 was officially the hottest topic at Hogwarts.
Lee Jordan was having a hard time keeping a straight face. He kept stealing glances at Albert, who looked perfectly composed—if a little tired. Lee couldn't help but chuckle under his breath every time he pictured it: Albert, usually the most precise wizard in their year, accidentally turning a simple Summoning Charm into a demolition derby.
The image of Albert's face—a mix of utter shock and "Oh, Merlin, what have I done"—as the first bookshelf began its slow, inevitable tilt was a memory Lee planned to cherish for years.
"You know, for a man who prides himself on elegance, that was a remarkably loud way to say hello to a book," Lee whispered as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.
"It was an 'Accio bomb,' Lee. A technical error," Albert replied, though his ears were slightly pink. He grabbed a fried chicken leg and, seeing Fred opening his mouth to likely add a sarcastic comment, promptly shoved the drumstick into Fred's mouth to silence him.
"Eat," Albert commanded. "The more you chew, the less you talk."
Sanna, sitting across from them, looked up from her plate of eggs. She looked like she hadn't slept much either, but for a different reason. Her eyes were bright with the thrill of the rumor mill. "You guys finally crawled out of bed? You missed the morning briefing. The castle is practically in a state of emergency."
"Is that so?" Albert said, maintaining a tone of mild, academic interest. "Did they actually catch the culprits? I heard Filch was on a warpath."
Fred managed to swallow the chicken and rolled his eyes at Albert's blatant acting. "Yeah, Albert. Tell us. Did they catch the 'dangerous criminals' who dared to move some furniture?"
Sanna leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "They caught two of them. A Hufflepuff boy and a Ravenclaw girl. Apparently, they were tucked away in a secret passage near the kitchens. They claimed they were just looking for a quiet place to watch the moon, but Filch wasn't having it. He looked like he wanted to put them in the stocks."
George let out a sudden, loud snort and immediately tried to cover it with a cough. "I'm sorry... it's just... a date? That's tragic. Imagine trying to have a romantic moment and suddenly being tackled by a man smelling of dust and Mrs. Norris."
"It's not that funny, George," Angelina said, joining the conversation. "They lost fifty points each. And the worst part is, everyone knows they didn't do it. The noise came from the fifth floor. Those two were nowhere near the library."
"Exactly," Fred chimed in, leaning back with a grin. "It's all the fault of that jerk who made the noise. He really ruined the atmosphere for everyone. I was personally very startled in my own bed."
Lee Jordan nearly choked on a piece of crusty bread. He turned purple, coughing violently until George thumped him on the back. After taking a long, desperate swig of pumpkin juice, Lee gasped, "I heard... I heard the library was untouched. If something crashed, how come Madam Pince didn't find a single book out of place this morning?"
"That's the mystery, isn't it?" Albert mused, tearing into a roll. "Perhaps it was a sonic illusion. Or a very loud ghost."
"The professors don't think so," Sanna said, her eyes narrowing as she studied the four boys. "Snape and McGonagall went straight to the Fat Lady. They think it was a senior student. Someone who knows the Disillusionment Charm."
"Wait, they checked the entrance?" George asked, his playful demeanor flickering for a second.
"Yep. The Fat Lady told them that some invisible students left the tower, but she didn't see them come back. Professor Smith thinks it was a group of Gryffindors. He said it had the 'hallmarks of lion-hearted stupidity.'"
The table went quiet for a beat. Albert, Fred, George, and Lee were all suddenly very busy with their food, showing a sudden, intense devotion to their breakfast.
"You guys got up really late today," Sanna pointed out, her voice trailing off as she looked from one to the other. "And you all look like you've been through a war."
"We were up late playing Wizard Cards," Albert said smoothly, not missing a beat. "It's a very taxing game. High stakes. Lots of mental math."
"I was the champion," Fred added, puffing out his chest. "Won two out of three rounds. It was a bloodbath."
Sanna leaned closer, her voice barely audible over the din of the Great Hall. "I wonder... were you four the 'invisible voices' she heard? It fits your profile perfectly."
Angelina looked up, her fork pausing halfway to her mouth. "Wait, really? You guys?"
"Who knows?" Fred muttered around a mouthful of mash. "Gryffindor is a big house. Lots of people like shadows."
Albert, sensing the heat rising, decided it was time to pivot. "Anyway, did the owls come yet? I'm expecting a few replies."
Sanna sighed, realizing she wasn't going to get a straight confession. She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out two envelopes. "Here. You get more mail than the Daily Prophet. Who are you writing to? A secret fan club?"
"I'm a man of many interests, Sanna. Networking is key," Albert replied, taking the letters. He scanned the seals. One was from a potioneer in France; the other was from Isabelle.
"The library is actually closed today," Percy Weasley said, appearing behind them with his usual stiff posture and his Prefect badge gleaming. He was looking at his younger brothers with deep suspicion. "Madam Pince is doing a full inventory. She's convinced someone was trying to steal something from the Restricted Section, even if they didn't leave a trace."
"How tedious for her," George sighed.
"By the way," Percy continued, his eyes lingering on Fred and George. "I did a bit of asking around this morning. None of the seventh or sixth years were out last night. I checked with the other Prefects. Every single senior was accounted for by midnight."
"So it was a ghost then," Fred said cheerfully. "Case closed."
"Or it was someone younger who is far too clever for their own good," Percy countered. He sat down and began buttering a piece of toast with clinical precision. "Filch is furious. He spent three hours checking the secret tunnels. He's convinced there's a new hideout somewhere on the eighth floor."
"What a shame he can't find it," George shrugged. "Maybe he should try looking for a hobby instead."
"Where were you really?" Percy asked suddenly, his voice sharp.
"In bed, Percy. Do we need to sign a sworn affidavit?" George rolled his eyes. "We were discussing the strategic nuances of the Wizard Card Club. You should join. It might help you loosen that tie."
"The what club?" Percy blinked, momentarily derailed.
"The Wizard Card Club!" Fred pulled a shimmering card from his pocket—a custom-made one featuring a very grumpy-looking Snape. "We're recruiting. It's the next big thing."
Charlie Weasley, sitting nearby, let out a huff. "I don't know how you lot do it. Everyone knows you're the most likely suspects, but since nobody can prove it, you just walk around like you're saints."
"That's the Gryffindor way, isn't it?" George grinned. "No secrets, just a complete lack of evidence."
"Actually, George's right," Charlie muttered. "Gryffindor has no secrets because everyone talks too much. But somehow, you four managed to be the exception to the rule."
Percy looked at Fred and George one last time. "I wonder if you two did it. You have that look on your faces. The 'we almost got caught' look."
"We were busy, Percy. We're making a card for you," George said mischievously.
"I don't want a card," Percy snapped.
"Too late, I already started the sketch," Fred chuckled. "It's going to be a rare 'Bureaucrat' class card. Very high defense, zero attack power."
While the twins distracted their brothers, Albert opened the letter from Isabelle. His brow furrowed slightly as he read the elegant script.
"Problem?" Lee asked, noticing the change in Albert's expression.
"Nothing major," Albert said, folding the parchment. "Just a change in schedule."
In truth, the letter was a bit of a blow. Isabelle wanted to move their Occlumency—or 'Mind Locking'—sessions forward. She was ready to begin the practical application.
Albert realized he had essentially sabotaged himself. By causing such a stir in the library last night, he had triggered a lockdown. He hadn't managed to get the Advanced Mind Locking Guide he needed to prepare. Now, he was going into a training session with a Ravenclaw prodigy without the extra edge he had hoped to gain.
He had dug his own grave, and now he had to sit in it.
"I have to go," Albert said, standing up and clearing his plate. "I have an appointment, and I need to go back to the dorm to grab something first."
"Isabelle?" Sanna asked, her voice holding a strange, unreadable note.
"Isabelle Bard?" Percy looked up, genuinely impressed. "The Ravenclaw? She's one of the top students in the school. Why are you meeting her?"
"We're in the same club," Albert said simply, turning to head toward the stairs.
"Two clubs, actually," he added over his shoulder with a small, mysterious smile, leaving the Gryffindor table to puzzle over just how many 'clubs' Albert Anderson was actually running.