"Ugh! I give up, I really do!"
The Gryffindor Common Room was alive with the crackle of a roaring fire, but the center of attention was a small table where four boys were intensely engaged in what looked like a highly complex game. George Weasley, having just suffered another humiliating defeat, slumped backwards in his squashy armchair, scattering his hand of cards across the rug in despair.
"Can't we just play a game for fun? Why do I always get utterly trounced?" George whined, dramatically rubbing his temples.
Albert, who was meticulously gathering his winning deck, straightened the pile with a satisfied tap. He leaned over and offered a supremely unhelpful consolation. "It would be rather extraordinary if you could beat me right now, George. I designed the rules, the synergy, and the power curve. Currently, my understanding of the deck composition is, shall we say, geometrically superior to yours. You should stick to playing against Fred or Lee Jordan; you three operate on a similar, entry-level plane of competitive thinking."
"Entry-level? I'll have you know I've been analyzing your opening moves!" Lee Jordan protested, though the smug smirk on his face suggested he wholeheartedly agreed with Albert's assessment. "And no, George and Fred still can't touch me. I'm evolving faster."
Albert raised a brow, fixing Lee with a suspicious, knowing look. "You didn't sneak any of your ridiculously overpowered, home-brew cards into your deck again, did you? You're not cheating, are you, Co-Founder?"
"Me? Do I look like the type to commit fraud?" Lee Jordan countered, failing miserably to appear innocent.
"Yes," Fred deadpanned, without hesitation. "You look exactly like the type. What was that ridiculous Avada Kedavra card you tried to slip past us last night? Said it was for 'testing'?"
Lee Jordan cleared his throat with a defensive cough. "That card was merely a preliminary exploration into the viability of incorporating the Unforgivable Curses into the game's meta. I have since concluded it was... unbalanced. I removed it."
"Hold on," Albert interrupted, tapping the Avada Kedavra concept in his notebook. "Don't discard the idea entirely. We just need to attach a realistic consequence. For example: if a player uses the Avada Kedavra spell card and fails to win the match on that same turn, they immediately lose the game."
The other three exchanged stunned, fascinated glances.
"Why such a harsh penalty?" George asked.
"Because in the real world, using the Killing Curse gets you arrested by Ministry Aurors and locked up in Azkaban!" Albert explained, folding his arms.
"This card is designed for the Dark Wizard faction deck. Only players running a pure Dark Wizard build can avoid the immediate loss. However, even they receive a penalty: for the next three turns, one Auror card is randomly added to their opponent's playing field, effectively placing a bounty on the Dark Wizard player's head."
"A Dark Wizard using an Unforgivable Curse, only to be hunted down by Ministry Aurors? That is epic," Lee Jordan breathed, his eyes wide. He immediately pulled out his quill and rapidly jotted down Albert's suggested mechanic, underlining the term Strategic Consequence.
"So the whole game framework will eventually branch out?" Fred asked, his voice now serious and strategic. "We'll have the Hogwarts Faction, the Dark Wizard Faction, and maybe a Ministry of Magic Faction?"
"Precisely," Albert confirmed. "And eventually, cards for the rest of the Magical World—Goblins, Giants, Centaurs, international Quidditch teams, and magical creatures. The core rules remain, but each faction will have distinct win conditions. Your current Quidditch-focused deck, Fred, might evolve into a specialized 'Gryffindor Sports' deck, while my current build is more of a 'General Charm Mastery' deck."
George, meanwhile, was still hung up on his recent defeat. "But why do I lose every single time I follow the basic rules you wrote? The system is illogical!"
"George, my friend, you are running what we call a Top-Heavy deck," Fred sighed, covering his face in despair. "You've crammed three copies of the Ten-Star Dumbledore card into your deck. High-Cost cards like that cannot even be played until turn ten! If you can't survive the early game, those powerful cards are just dead weight in your hand."
"Exactly. Three Dumbledores?" Lee Jordan scoffed, shaking his head. "You've essentially guaranteed you can't play anything decent until at least the tenth turn. One Dumbledore, maybe two for late-game insurance, is enough. What is the goal?"
"The goal is to survive until the tenth round!" George protested. "Because then, I will crush you with Dumbledore!"
"Survival is the difficult part," Fred muttered, tapping the table.
"This is why I need to win early," George countered stubbornly. "Or, hear me out: we raise the starting health points for every player to thirty! That would give me time to actually deploy Dumbledore."
"Absolutely not," Lee Jordan vetoed immediately. "Fifteen to twenty is the maximum for a fast, engaging game. You need to learn Deck Synergy. You need Spell cards to counter Albert's charm expertise, or Low-Cost cards to stabilize the board early. Remember your own Quidditch Match Ban card?"
Fred had included three copies of the Quidditch Match Ban card in his deck: Effect: For the next three turns, no magic can be used on the field, and all Quidditch player cards gain +1 Attack. It was a devastating card against a magic-heavy opponent like Albert, but even with it, Fred couldn't consistently win.
"What are you all huddled over, plotting?"
The new voice belonged to Angelina Johnson, who approached their table with a mix of curiosity and annoyance, having spotted their intense focus on something other than homework.
"We're playing cards," Fred explained casually, gesturing to the small, hand-drawn cards on the table. "Albert invented them. Wizard Cards."
"Card games? In the Wizarding World?" Angelina looked skeptical. She picked up one of the scattered cards on the table—a profile of George.
"The number next to the little sword symbol is Attack Power, the heart is Health, and the text at the bottom is the card's special Effect," Albert clarified.
"You use real people's names?" Angelina asked, inspecting George's illustration.
"Inspired by the Chocolate Frog cards," Fred explained. "And since you're a Chaser, you're highly valuable. If you want your own card, Albert is the official designer."
"Would you mind?" Angelina asked Albert, a competitive spark in her eyes.
"Of course not. It's vital to expanding the Gryffindor roster," Albert replied, already pulling a fresh piece of parchment. He quickly jotted down her stats—solid, reliable numbers—but focused on her thematic effect.
Card Name: Angelina Johnson
Faction: Gryffindor Chaser
Cost: 2 Action Points
Attack: 2
Health: 2
Effect: Team Leadership: Scoring the first Goal of the Match greatly boosts morale. All allied Gryffindor cards gain +1 Attack for one turn.
"I absolutely love that!" Angelina exclaimed, tapping the card. "Scoring the first goal is a massive boost—it fits perfectly."
"Want to try a quick match?" Fred offered, passing her his deck, already shuffled and ready.
Angelina took the deck and studied the top card—a portrait of Alicia Spinnet. Card Name: Fierce Striker. Effect: Swing your bat and hit an enemy, dealing 2 damage.
"A team-up card," she mused aloud, intrigued. "Alright, how do you play this?"
A few minutes later, Angelina was staring at her hand, which consisted of three high-cost Bludger cards and Fred's twin synergy card, which was useless without George.
"Wait, wait, Albert won already?" she demanded, utterly confused.
"He has always won," Lee Jordan reminded her with a long-suffering sigh. "I told you, Albert is unbeatable right now. He knows exactly which cards counter which, and the perfect play sequence for every scenario. You're simply playing against the creator, which is like fighting the author of the universe."
"But your deck was completely different from Fred's!" Angelina complained, eyeing Albert suspiciously.
"I suggested you play Fred's deck because it's a pure Quidditch build, which emphasizes combat units and field control," Albert explained with a slight shrug of apology. "Mine is a Spell-Control deck, which focuses on neutralizing threats and out-drawing my opponent. Different paths to victory."
"Fine. George. You. Now," Angelina demanded, fixing George with a competitive glare. "I'm not leaving until I beat one of the Founders."
George, still reeling from his previous losses, nervously accepted the challenge. He played his familiar, early-game strategy of trying to stall until he could summon a high-cost card.
Five minutes later, George slumped onto the table, his head buried in his arms. "I don't want to play cards anymore. I think I need to start revising my deck."
Lee Jordan, ever the commentator, leaned over George's defeated form. "I tried to tell you, George. Trading those Dumbledores for some cheaper Beaters would've saved you."
"Actually, I think I understand Albert's motive now," Fred said suddenly, looking at George with an expression of profound pity.
"What motive?"
"Letting Angelina beat you to regain her confidence after losing to him."
"Oh, that's just sad," Lee Jordan added, nodding in complete agreement. They both stared at George with a deep, dramatic sense of shared commiseration.
"Hey! What are those expressions for?" George protested weakly from his slump.
At that moment, the portrait hole opened, and Charlie Weasley walked in, holding a fresh, slightly damp notice in his hand—the official schedule for Quidditch tryouts.
"What's all the fuss?" Charlie asked, approaching their table.
"We're playing a new card game!" Angelina beamed, suddenly cheered up by her victory over George. She handed Charlie her newly acquired deck.
Charlie took the cards, looking utterly bewildered by the strange, illustrated parchment. He scanned the card Angelina had placed on top and read the text aloud, an eyebrow arching sharply.
"Devil Captain, Charlie Weasley. Effect: After a prolonged period of Hellish Training, all allied units on the field gain +1 Attack Power?" Charlie glared at Albert. "Hellish? My training is perfectly reasonable."
Oliver Wood, who had trailed Charlie in, saw the card and burst into spontaneous laughter, nearly tripping over the step.
"Well, Albert is the designer!" Fred piped up instantly, shamelessly deflecting the blame.
"Yes, Albert! The name was definitely his idea!" George added, seizing the chance to escape his slump.
"The name 'Devil Captain' was a unanimous, strongly enforced suggestion from the Weasley twins. They found it 'fitting'," Albert said calmly, stabbing his two co-founders squarely in the back.
"Do I have a card?" Wood asked eagerly, the laughter still echoing in his voice.
Fred quickly shuffled through his deck, pulling out the Oliver Wood card. Card Name: Goalkeeper. Effect: Assist a designated teammate in preventing up to 2 points of damage.
Wood was pleased with his role, which accurately reflected his defensive position. But he frowned, noticing something odd. "Why are all the cards here only from Gryffindor? Where are the Slytherin and Ravenclaw players?"
"We haven't had time to design them yet," Albert explained. "We're starting with Gryffindor to test the basic mechanics. But yes, all professors and Head of Houses are included."
"Oh, what's Professor Snape's card?" Angelina asked excitedly, recalling the Potions Master's perpetually looming presence.
Fred grinned and passed the Severus Snape card to her. Angelina read the card and dissolved into immediate, delighted laughter.
Card Name: Severus Snape
Faction: Slytherin Head of House
Cost: High
Attack: Low
Health: Average
Effect: The View from Behind: You feel a cold presence behind you, causing your hair to stand on end. It is advisable to do nothing. Target selected opponent's Attack Power is reduced to Zero for the remainder of the turn.
Lee Jordan let out a theatrical, exaggerated cough, attempting a spot-on imitation of Snape's oily drawl. "Ahem, is that what you mean?"
The entire group, including Charlie and Wood, burst into loud, unrestrained laughter. It seemed the Potions Master's penchant for silently stalking students in the corridors had not gone unnoticed by the wider school body, and now, it was immortalized in a card game. The Wizard Cards, they all realized, were going to be a massive hit, if only for the perfectly wicked satire.