At nine o'clock in the evening, the Gryffindor dormitory was a cacophony of rustling robes and hushed conversations, but Albert sat in relative quiet at his small, makeshift desk, a quill scratching across parchment. He was meticulously drafting a letter to his parents. The process was more complex than it seemed, as he needed to use descriptive words to bridge the gap between the magical world and the Muggle one, turning his collection of instant photos into narrative gold.
He paused when he overheard the familiar, excited whispering of the twins.
"So, you guys want to go on a... night tour tonight?" Albert asked, putting down his quill and turning to face them.
Fred and George, along with Lee Jordan, instantly brightened. "Albert, you'll join us?" the twins asked in unison, their eyes alight with the prospect of immediate, forbidden adventure.
Albert's face twitched. He immediately thought of the unfinished quest on his system panel: No! Don't seek death! Not yet! He reached up and firmly patted his cheek, trying to shake off the temptation. Going out now, without preparation, was a guaranteed way to land straight in Filch's dusty clutches.
"I heard," Albert began, adopting a cautionary tone, "that the caretaker, Argus Filch, knows the castle better than almost anyone, possibly even better than Dumbledore himself. He's spent decades chasing after students. This means he knows most of the secret passages—and probably all the best hiding spots—and can easily catch anyone who doesn't know much about Hogwarts."
"See, I told you!" Lee Jordan quickly changed his allegiance, pointing an accusing finger at the twins. "If you go out for a night tour now, you will definitely be caught by the administrator on the very first night!"
"No, no, that's not the most crucial problem," Albert corrected, shaking his head. "The most important thing is preparation. Gryffindor courage isn't recklessness. If you want to tour the castle at night, you must be properly prepared. At the very least, you need to master a reliable light source, like the Luminescence Charm."
He then gestured to the oil lamp flickering on their bedside table. "And even with Lumos, you're still visible. Don't you think carrying that heavy, clumsy oil lamp would make escaping Filch incredibly difficult? It's not exactly easy to make a quick getaway with a bulky antique."
Albert picked up his borrowed library book, Selected Spells of the Nineteenth Century. "This book, which I borrowed from Madam Pince, contains the spell for the Disillusionment Charm."
He paused for dramatic effect. "As long as you master that magic, it will be exceptionally difficult for Filch—or even a professor—to catch you. You will be optically indistinguishable from the environment."
"So, you would like to go on a night tour with us, eventually?" The twins clapped their hands, their faces breaking into identical, ecstatic grins. They knew Albert was too logical to say 'no' to a good strategic plan. He was merely establishing the pre-conditions for his involvement.
"If you want to go on a night stroll with me, that's not impossible," Albert agreed, confirming their understanding of his terms. "But not now. I won't risk detention before Monday. First, learn some useful, essential spells. Then, we can wander around the school with a true measure of safety."
"That is brilliant!" George exclaimed, grabbing Fred's arm, and the two began a strange, joyful jig. In the twins' eyes, Albert was more than a friend; he was a reliable, brilliant strategist who could turn their wildest, most reckless schemes into achievable plans.
"Speaking of plans, we have another one for tomorrow morning," Fred confided, leaning in. "George, Lee, and I plan to go to Hogsmeade again. Do you want to come with us? We want to buy some things we missed."
"It's the only completely wizarding village in all of Britain, you know," George added excitedly. "Only third-year students and up are supposed to go, but we can sneak in through that secret passage we found near the mirror."
"I absolutely need to stock up at Zonko's Joke Shop. I didn't bring enough cash the last time we went there," George said, already counting Galleons in his mind.
"It is the best—" Lee Jordan started to agree, but Albert cut him off with a thoughtful hum.
"I'm not particularly interested in gag gifts and prank items," Albert confessed, "but... it would be worthwhile to see the wizarding village and study the architecture and people."
Just as he spoke, his Panel flashed again, confirming the immediate need for the trip.
QUEST UPDATE!
The Adventure Begins
This is the very first step of a great adventure. Go to Hogsmeade through the secret passage and experience the thrill and fun of forbidden exploration.
Objective: Successfully travel to Hogsmeade and return without being caught.
Reward: 100 Experience Points, George Weasley's Favorability +5, Fred Weasley's Favorability +5, Lee Jordan's Favorability +5.
Favorability, Albert thought, his face tightening slightly. What in the world is this?
The mechanic felt jarringly unnatural, like something pulled directly from a dating or strategy game. Was this some bizarre measure of interpersonal influence? If the favorability rating reached 100, would they become "legendary best friends"?
Albert quickly shook off the chilling, non-magical thoughts. Whatever the mechanism, a positive rating meant increased trust and ease of cooperation—two essential qualities for any successful adventure team. It was merely another metric to manage.
"Alright, let's go together after breakfast tomorrow," Albert agreed, setting down his quill again.
He then returned to his letter. He was a master of concise description and evocative imagery, skills honed in his past life. He used his camera photos to structure his narrative, vividly describing the grandeur of the castle , the eccentricity of the professors, and the general chaos of being a freshman. The camera was his perfect tool for documentation, and the letter was his perfect medium for externalizing the experience.
Fred and George, having secured Albert's participation for the Hogsmeade trip, didn't bother him further. The trio immediately grabbed their "Standard Book of Spells, Elementary" and began flipping through, searching for the simplest, most immediately useful spells they could master by the morning. The oil lamp, Albert was right, was a terrible burden.
A few minutes later, Albert was jolted from his writing by a sudden, acrid smell of burnt paper. He looked up just as a portion of a discarded Daily Prophet—clearly the target of their recent practice—burst into brilliant, uncontrolled flame. The twins were jumping back, trying to stamp out the fire before it spread.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing!" Albert snapped, jumping up. He slapped his hand against the burning parchment, instinctively using a muggle technique to smother the fire, then hastily flung open the window to let the smoke dissipate into the drizzling night air.
"George just tried a fire spell," Fred explained sheepishly, coughing lightly. "And the newspaper caught fire successfully."
"Successful in setting fire to the furniture, yes!" Albert glared at them, his annoyance palpable. "You nearly burned the carpet! You haven't fully controlled your magic yet. What if you had set the entire room alight?"
"I thought I might be a natural at fire spells," George mumbled defensively.
"How did you do that?" Lee Jordan asked, completely ignoring the danger and instead focusing on the magic itself. He was eager to try.
"Stop right now!" Albert demanded, retrieving the slightly charred newspaper. "You are not to use fire magic in this room again. Go to the Common Room and aim for the fireplace, if you must!" He shooed the chaotic trio out of the dormitory. What a troublesome bunch of guys, he thought, shaking his head and returning the unfinished letter to his box.
He called after them before they left, "If you still want to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, you'd better master the Luminescence Charm. I refuse to carry an oil lamp through that secret passage, and I certainly won't carry yours."
"Agreed," George and Fred said in unison. "Let's practice Lumos first. It's definitely a more useful spell for now."
The next few hours were spent in the common room, focusing the erratic bursts of first-year magic. The twins, with their surprising raw magical power, managed to light their wands relatively quickly. The light was weak and flickered out after a few seconds, but the core spell was working. Lee Jordan struggled more, his wand remaining stubbornly dark.
Albert wandered down to check on them, sitting on the arm of a sofa near the fireplace.
"You're not concentrating enough, Lee," Albert instructed, his tone automatically shifting to that of a tutor. "Focus on your wand's tip. Visualize the light pouring out, not from your hand, but from the word itself. Recite the spell clearly and accurately, and do not hesitate with your wand movement. Beginners must concentrate their willpower to compensate for lack of experience."
"I always feel that your tone is a bit like a professor," Fred commented, grinning. "Maybe you could develop in this direction later."
"I think I'll pass on that career path," Albert replied dryly.
"Why?" George was genuinely puzzled.
"Because being a professor is far too draining," Albert explained, picking up a small, multi-colored cube he had left on the mantlepiece and beginning to twist its sides rapidly. "Especially when I have to deal with a bunch of overly enthusiastic, reckless students. My patience is good, but not that good, particularly with people outside my family and friends."
"What is that thing?" Fred's attention immediately shifted from his wand practice to the object in Albert's hands.
"This is a Rubik's Cube," Albert answered casually, his fingers flying over the squares. The click of the mechanism was sharp and rhythmic. "It's a Muggle toy used to train spatial thinking, pattern recognition, memory, and reaction time."
He played with it purely out of boredom—a habitual fidgeting that also subtly increased his quick memory and reaction time, offering small, consistent bursts of experience. Better than nothing, and excellent for killing time.
The twins and Lee paused their practice, mesmerized by the colored puzzle. They watched as Albert, without looking, flawlessly solved one side, then two, before handing it to Fred, who immediately scrambled the colors again.
Fred stared at the puzzle, then back at Albert, the spatial challenge instantly grabbing his highly visual, non-linear mind. George took a turn, trying to brute-force the solution. It was a perfect microcosm of their differences: Albert, the calm, logical planner who relied on memory algorithms; the twins, the quick-witted, impulsive geniuses who relied on lateral thinking and instinct.
By the time the last log sputtered out in the Gryffindor fireplace, the three of them had finally, through sheer, concentrated effort, mastered the Luminescence Charm. Their wands glowed with a pale, steady light. While it was no match for the true concealment of the Disillusionment Charm, it was more than enough to navigate the secret, hour-long passage tomorrow.
The night tour was postponed, but the forbidden adventure to Hogsmeade was now securely on the schedule.