Returning to the changing room, Albert immediately picked up his wand and cast a Drying Charm, removing the rainwater from his clothes.
"Put your protective gear and Quidditch uniforms in the basket," Charlie reminded, pointing to the large container in the corner. "And everyone should go to the Hospital Wing later to see Madam Pomfrey for some anti-cold potion. Don't actually catch a chill from the rain."
"Actually, you just want to go see those unlucky Slytherins and rub it in, don't you?" Irene guessed, smiling knowingly.
"Jack also needs Madam Pomfrey to check him—he took quite a fall," Danny coughed lightly, reminding them.
"It's all your fault!" Jack complained loudly.
"How did you do that? Your clothes… they're dry?" Wood asked in astonishment, noticing Albert putting on his winter cloak.
"Of course. I used a Drying Charm," Albert replied, raising an eyebrow at their puzzled looks. "You mean… none of you know it?"
They exchanged glances. Not a single person did.
Albert suddenly didn't know what to say.
"There's a record of the Drying Charm in Practical Household Magic," he added, recalling the book Professor Flitwick had recommended. He hadn't actually read it himself, but it sounded convincing.
"You actually read books like that?" Irene asked, surprised.
"Isn't magic meant to make life easier?" Albert rubbed his nose. "I feel like I'm about to catch a cold."
"Ah-choo!" Mario sneezed. "Let's go back to the castle. I want a hot shower first."
"Thank you," Irene said with a smile after Albert dried everyone's clothes with the charm. Together, they returned to the castle.
On the second floor, the corridor outside the Hospital Wing was crowded with spectators from the match, all soaked and waiting for anti-cold potion.
The arrival of the Gryffindor team drew attention, and the crowd parted to let them through.
Charlie greeted acquaintances cheerfully, leading the team inside.
Madam Pomfrey was busy distributing potions. Charlie feigned concern, placing Jack on a bed, then flashed a mischievous grin at Montague, the Slytherin Chaser lying nearby. Albert read his lips: We won.
"Madam Pomfrey, we also need potion, so no one catches a cold," Irene said politely.
"On the table—one small cup each. Help yourselves," Pomfrey replied briskly, examining Jack's injuries and muttering about reckless play. She healed him in less than a minute.
While they drank, the Slytherin team arrived, and the atmosphere grew tense.
"Alright, don't crowd in here," Pomfrey ordered, ushering Gryffindor out. Albert immediately spotted Vicky, the substitute Keeper whose teeth he had knocked out, along with the two players who had crashed into the stands. They looked badly injured.
"Oh, and the one who threw the bat at you has detention from Professor McGonagall," Mark said loudly, gesturing toward a Slytherin. "The bat hit someone, and those two who tried to stop you crashed into the stands, injuring several people…"
Mark's voice carried through the ward, making nearby students snicker.
The Slytherins glared furiously. If not for Pomfrey's presence, a fight might have broken out.
"What's wrong with your teeth? How did you lose a few? Are you alright?" Danny asked Vicky, suppressing a grin.
"Cough, cough—let's go," Charlie said quickly, pushing everyone out.
"I hope Pomfrey doesn't fix his teeth so he keeps lisping," Fred laughed. "By the way, who did it? That was brilliant!"
"Seems Albert knocked them out," Jack said, chuckling.
"Don't look at me—he crashed into my elbow himself," Albert said innocently. "I was focused on the snitch. How could I have time to hit him? He just rammed into my elbow. It still hurts."
"Maybe he has a condition where he feels uncomfortable unless he's hit in the face," George said with mock sympathy, making everyone laugh.
"Let's go celebrate this victory."
"We're off to the kitchens," Fred and George announced.
"No need—Professor McGonagall already prepared food!" Lee Jordan appeared suddenly, slapping Albert's shoulder. "I saw it all! You knocked out the Keeper's teeth!"
"He knocked them out himself," Albert corrected.
"You didn't see Snape's face when you caught the snitch—it looked like someone smeared a blob of—" Lee trailed off as Albert raised a finger for silence. He glanced around, saw Snape wasn't nearby, then lightly punched Albert's shoulder, grinning.
Everyone burst into laughter.
The only unhappy person was Filch, standing at the ward entrance with mop and bucket, glaring maliciously as he waited to clean muddy footprints.
Back in the common room, cheers erupted. Students shouted Albert's name, pulling him in eagerly.
Tables were laden with cakes, pies, sweets, and pumpkin juice. Many crowded around Albert, begging him to recount the moment he caught the snitch and the incident with the Keeper's teeth.
Albert insisted the Keeper had crashed into his elbow himself. He was a good person—how could he deliberately knock out someone's teeth?
Finally escaping, Albert took a plate of cake and sat in an armchair in the corner.
"Not bad—I didn't expect your flying to be so good," Field teased, resting her chin on her hand. "If you were a little older, I wouldn't resist pursuing you."
Albert blinked. Are foreign girls always this bold?
He knew she was teasing, so he retorted quietly, "Actually, I don't like girls older than me."
"Older?" Field rolled her eyes, then changed the subject. "How's your Summoning Charm?"
"It's going well. I'm practicing summoning different things," Albert said with satisfaction. "Soon I'll be able to summon an umbrella."
"An umbrella? Why?" Field asked, puzzled.
"So I won't need to carry one when it rains," Albert explained earnestly. "Britain is a rainy country. Sometimes you go out without one and come back drenched."
Field stared at him, speechless. It does sound logical…