Ever since Albert met MacDougal, he could hardly believe how much his school life had changed.
Delving too deeply into the secrets of runes had put a considerable strain on his mind, leaving him constantly listless.
Yet the burden had its benefits.
Albert's runes skill experience had skyrocketed—nearly 1,000 points in less than half a month. Most importantly, he felt close to grasping what he wanted: MacDougal's method of truly applying Ancient Runes.
If he raised his skill to level three, he might master it quickly. But Albert preferred to take his time. Even if he leveled up instantly, the knowledge would still take time to digest. Spending too much experience at once was risky; his pool was both his reserve and his safety net.
For now, raising a skill directly to level two was tolerable, but only for practical ones.
"What's wrong with you lately? You look tired," George asked.
"Nothing, just busy. Pass me the marmalade?" Albert was piling sausages, a fried egg, and half a fried tomato onto his plate.
"Here." George handed it over, still suspicious.
Albert spread a thick layer on bread, took a bite, and pulled out his diary to check past notes. His memory was strong, but when focused on one thing, he often forgot others.
"Looking at your little notebook again?" Fred teased. "By the way, there's Apparition Class this afternoon. Going to watch?"
"I remember last time, a Hufflepuff boy was dismembered," Lee Jordan said, laughing.
"It's disparted, not dismembered." Angelina shot him a disgusted look. "Don't misuse such a terrifying word."
"I think his name was Figg," Lee said.
"It's Figg," Albert corrected weakly, biting into his egg.
"How do you know?" Lee asked, unconvinced.
"I met a Hufflepuff friend in the library…" Albert coughed, gulped pumpkin juice, and set his fork aside.
"You have Hufflepuff friends?" Alicia asked, surprised.
"Who doesn't?" Albert replied casually.
"I remember—it was that tough one who punched the Ravenclaw prefect. Called…"
"Truman," Fred supplied. "Your memory's awful."
"Who remembers these things?" Lee argued.
The Twins exchanged a look. "Last time, was that incident your idea to Truman?" they asked quietly.
Albert ignored them, flipping through his notebook. His eyes fell on an entry. "That biography of Ulick—I couldn't repair it. You took the book. Did you fix and return it?"
"It's not fixed, but it's back. Madam Pince didn't notice," George admitted.
"We made a bold choice," Fred explained. "We tore out the page. As long as no one turns to it, it won't be discovered."
"You're lucky," Albert said, speechless. He had expected them to repair it, not mutilate it. Still, as long as Pince didn't find out…
"I wonder which unlucky student will take the blame."
"Not our concern anymore," the Twins said awkwardly.
George quickly changed the subject. "Are you going to watch Apparition Class?"
"Yes. Listening for a while isn't bad—you can always learn something." Albert nodded. He wanted to see if Apparition would appear in his skill list.
Every time Wilkie Twycross came to Hogwarts to teach, Albert attended, recording the three D's in his notebook. It would be great to try it himself.
Unfortunately, first-years couldn't sign up. Practicing under guidance would have made learning safer and more efficient.
"What are you thinking?" Sanna asked.
"He's frustrated younger students can't sign up," George said knowingly.
"Such opportunities are rare. But Apparition is too difficult for younger students; we don't have enough magical power," Albert said. In truth, he was frustrated. Unlike others, he could master it instantly by spending experience points.
"You could use the Disillusionment Charm!" Fred whispered.
"Don't be silly. Do you think that would fool Professor McGonagall?" Albert rolled his eyes.
"Even if you learn it, you can't use it. Magic's banned during summer holidays," George said seriously.
"Why?" Sanna asked.
"The Ministry has that rule. First offense gets a warning. Second, you might be expelled—or fined heavily," George explained.
"How do you know?" Sanna frowned. "I used magic at home during Christmas and got no warning."
"That's because you haven't received the official notice yet," Percy said, clearing his throat. "After summer, once you get the notice, you can't use magic until you're seventeen."
"As far as I know, using magic in wizarding areas like Diagon Alley won't trigger warnings. Pure-blood families using it at home are fine too," Albert added softly. "The Ministry can't tell who cast it."
"How do you know?" Sanna asked, while Percy looked uneasy.
"Ever since Truman nearly got expelled, I paid attention," Albert said with a curl of his lip. "Older students told me the Ministry uses something called the Trace to monitor us. Use magic in a Muggle area, and you'll get a warning letter within minutes."
"So if you use it in Diagon Alley or wizarding homes, they can't tell?" Sanna asked.
"Yes, exactly." Albert nodded.
"That's unfair," Sanna said indignantly.
"Wizarding families must supervise themselves," Percy explained.
"If self-supervision worked, why would the Ministry need so many laws?" Sanna scoffed.
Albert laughed. "I like that. Very philosophical, don't you think?"