Professor Brood was a humorous old man, and Albert had been looking forward to this invitation. Just as he raised his hand to knock, the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office opened automatically.
Albert froze, then realized it was Brood's way of welcoming him. He gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Cakes and drinks were already prepared, and on the table sat a neatly arranged wizard chess board.
"Just a moment," Professor Brood said, still at his desk, eyes fixed on a parchment.
Albert didn't disturb him. He quietly sat on the sofa, helped himself to a slice of cake, and waited.
Ten minutes later, Brood finished his work and joined Albert, smiling. "I've heard about you from Professor McGonagall. She's very proud."
"The Transfiguration Today matter?" Albert asked, puzzled.
"Yes," Brood nodded. "For someone your age, it's remarkable."
Albert fell silent. He hadn't thought much about it. Fame, after all, wasn't as practical as Galleons. Hogwarts students weren't paid for publishing papers. Only winners of the Most Promising Newcomer Award received a symbolic reward—more honor than wealth.
"White moves first," Brood said, gesturing to the board.
Albert focused, probing Brood's strength. He knew his own skill was only Level One—fine against ordinary players, but nowhere near enough for an International Champion.
Even holding back, Brood checkmated him in less than ten minutes.
Though defeated, Albert learned much. In the second game, he slowed his moves, avoiding earlier mistakes. They battled for twenty minutes before Brood's queen sealed his fate.
"Lost again," Albert sighed. "Is this the standard of an International Champion? The competition level must be very high."
"No, you're wrong," Brood explained gently, sipping his tea. "Most competitors are ordinary. Few truly train. In another two years, you should reach that level."
"You mean the International competitors are amateurs?" Albert was stunned.
"Professional or amateur doesn't exist. Once you come of age, you can enter. The prize money isn't much, but the champion's title is valuable," Brood said with a smile.
Albert nodded absently. Fame didn't matter much to him.
"Fame can be useful," Brood added meaningfully. His tone carried something… strange.
"What were you busy with earlier?" Albert asked, changing the subject.
"Studying Ancient Runes," Brood replied. "Bathsheba helped me organize some notes. I haven't touched them in years—it's difficult now."
"Ancient Runes?" Albert raised an eyebrow. "That's a third-year elective, isn't it?"
"Yes," Brood nodded.
"It's said the Four Founders used runes to cast spells," Albert remarked.
"There is such a theory," Brood said, scrutinizing him. "Some believe ancient wizards were powerful because of their connection to runes."
"Indeed… very powerful," Albert murmured. "The magic of Hogwarts lasting over a thousand years is a miracle. Honestly, I doubt even Dumbledore could achieve that."
Brood chuckled. "Dumbledore is recognized as the most powerful wizard of this century. He's been Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot for decades."
"Rumor has it You-Know-Who feared him," Brood continued. "You know who I mean?"
"I know," Albert nodded. "I've read about him. It's said Harry Potter defeated that Dark Lord."
"Many thought Dumbledore would be the one, but…" Brood paused, then redirected. "There are legends about runes—words imbued with magic. Chanting them can enhance power. Dumbledore himself uses them; he's an expert."
"Professor," Albert said suddenly.
"What is it, Mr. Anderson?" Brood asked.
"I self-studied runic writing," Albert admitted. "But I couldn't feel the mysterious power you describe."
"You self-studied?" Brood was surprised.
"Yes. Over Christmas, I taught myself enough to read them. But they aren't as magical as the legends suggest."
"After all, that's just legend," Brood said softly. "Still, you bring me many surprises."
"Surprises?" Albert frowned.
"Nothing," Brood chuckled. "Many wizards study runes, but most only achieve basic recognition and simple application. True experts are rare."
Albert fell silent.
"No one delves deeper?" he asked at last.
"Delve deeper?" Brood shook his head. "For most, understanding the texts is enough. No one uses them, so why waste time uncovering secrets?"
"But the school—"
"Hogwarts offers Ancient Runes simply to ensure future generations don't forget them," Brood interrupted.