The second class scheduled for the Gryffindor first-years was History of Magic, a course universally acknowledged to be the single most tedious offering at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The History of Magic classroom was tucked away on the second floor of the castle, near the often-unused armoury. After the lively Charms class, the freshmen technically had twenty minutes of free time, but since Albert had spent a significant portion of that time consulting with Professor Flitwick about the principles of summoning, the four of them had no leisure to spare. They had to quicken their pace, dodging a suit of armour that seemed determined to trip the unwary.
When they arrived outside the dusty classroom door, the caretaker, Argus Filch, was already there, his sour expression suggesting he resented having to even touch the brass doorknob. As the professor was a ghost, Professor Binns, he was incapable of performing the mundane task of opening doors for his students. Filch opened the heavy, wooden door with a loud, protesting creak, glowering at the influx of students as if they were tracking mud onto his meticulously clean floor.
Gryffindor's History of Magic class was taken jointly with the students of Ravenclaw. The classroom quickly filled, with everyone sitting in their appointed rows. The Ravenclaws generally congregated toward the front, their notebooks open and ready. The Gryffindors, sensing the oncoming academic coma, tended to drift toward the back.
Albert ignored the twins, who were already trying to pass charmed notes to Hufflepuffs across the aisle, and took out his box of Every-Flavour Beans. The sheer, unpredictable risk of the beans was a fascinating contrast to the absolute certainty of boredom awaiting them. He picked up a blue bean, popped it into his mouth, and chewed. Blueberry, he mentally noted, a rare stroke of good fortune.
"Good luck," Albert muttered to himself. He pulled out his massive, leather-bound textbook, A History of Magic, and, under the guise of reading, he subtly opened his mental status panel and flipped through his skill list.
After the Charms class, he had acquired the basic, foundational skill of Spell Theory. Albert knew that this skill was critical for long-term magical development, acting as a multiplier for all future spell learning. He immediately spent some stored experience to upgrade the skill to Level 1. He carefully recalled the surge of conceptual knowledge that came with the upgrade and frowned slightly. It seemed that one level didn't offer a dramatic change.
How to explain it?
His understanding of spell principles had certainly improved, but the newly acquired knowledge felt like a series of simple truths that, once explained by Flitwick, seemed self-evident. He had the illusion that the knowledge, though crucial, was nothing special on its own. It was a foundation, but not a spectacle.
While pondering the foundational principles behind the Lumos Charm and its ability to gather ambient magical light, Albert distractedly reached for the Every-Flavour Beans and tossed one into his mouth, crunching down as if it were a simple chocolate chip.
The next moment, he slammed his hand over his mouth, suppressing a violent cough. A sharp, burning wave of heat immediately engulfed his tongue.
Chili Pepper!
The bean he'd just ingested was the infernal chili flavour. It was so aggressively spicy that Albert inwardly swore he would never eat this risky confectionery while his mind was otherwise engaged.
"What's wrong with you?" Fred asked, his head snapping around.
Albert pointed a shaky finger toward the small box on the table, trying to catch his breath. "Every-Flavour Beans. Chili flavour."
"Ha! Every bite is a risk!" Fred cackled gleefully, quoting the iconic slogan of the Weasley twins' favorite confection.
Albert glared at him, taking a piece of sweet, cooling nougat from his pocket and chewing desperately to smother the lingering burn. He then pushed the box of Every-Flavour Beans over to Fred.
"Watch this," Fred said, pinching a dull, greenish-grey bean. He put it in his mouth and chewed with commitment. "Spinach. Bland, but safe."
"Mine's strawberry," George announced happily, having chosen a rosy pink one.
"I like the surprise element of this stuff!" Lee Jordan declared, reaching into the box. He selected a mottled brown bean and tossed it into his mouth.
The next moment, Lee Jordan's face twisted into an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.
"Oh, it smells like rotten eggs!" he gagged, clamping his hands over his mouth. He then spat the masticated bean onto the floor with a sound of wet finality.
A Ravenclaw girl sitting nearby, who had been observing the chaotic Gryffindor table with faint intellectual curiosity, shot Lee Jordan a withering look of disdain.
Noticing the girl's judgment, Lee Jordan looked utterly embarrassed, scratching his head sheepishly.
"Clean it up, Lee," Albert instructed, raising his wand discreetly. He performed the Scouring Charm he had mentally copied from an advanced textbook, a simple Swish and Flick motion, and the unpleasant mess instantly vanished. He then tossed a piece of pineapple candy toward the contrite boy.
"I am never going to eat those wretched Every-Flavour Beans again," Lee Jordan swore, still gagging slightly.
"You said that after the booger flavour last time, Jordan," George teased, easily recalling the previous incident.
Muggle-Born Logic vs. Wizarding Riddle
After the dramatic expulsion of the rotten egg bean, everyone at the table steered clear of Albert's small box.
The Ravenclaw girl, who had been studying Albert's wand work, slid a little closer. "What kind of magic did you just use?" she asked, her tone shifting from disdain to intellectual curiosity. "The clean-up charm." She then introduced herself formally: "My name is Katrina MacDougal."
"Hello, Katrina. I'm Albert Anderson." Albert finished his chocolate, the final sweetness extinguishing the last spark of chili. "That was the Scouring Charm. Scourgify. A very practical cleaning spell."
Katrina studied him, her sharp, Ravenclaw eyes missing nothing. "Most freshmen aren't that adept at magic, even those taught by their families. You have excellent wand control. And," she paused, glancing at the advanced volume he was reading, "I bet the Sorting Hat put you in the wrong house."
"There's nothing wrong with being a Gryffindor," Albert countered, not taking offense. "Besides... I'm from a Muggle family."
Katrina's cool façade cracked slightly, revealing genuine surprise. "That's impossible. Only children from old wizarding families are taught magic, especially Scouring Charms, before they get here. A first-year Muggle-born shouldn't have that kind of innate skill."
"It seems to have simply come easily to me," Albert shrugged, deciding to change the subject before he had to explain his Panel. "I heard that to enter the Ravenclaw common room, you need to answer a question."
"Yes, you must answer the riddle posed by the eagle-shaped bronze door knocker before you're allowed in," Katrina confirmed, looking at him with renewed suspicion. "But I'm curious, how did you know that? Most students outside our house aren't aware of our entrance requirements."
"I happened to overhear a Ravenclaw student complaining bitterly that they couldn't answer the question and were stuck outside the lounge," Albert fabricated with smooth confidence.
"Oh," Katrina said, still clearly doubtful. The chances of encountering such a highly specific, embarrassing moment seemed slim.
"Do you ever get the feeling Albert can chat up anyone about anything?" George muttered softly to his twin.
Fred nodded sagely, and Lee Jordan, having recovered, simply took a non-committal, yellow every-flavour bean and popped it in his mouth.
Albert gave the three conspirators a warning glare, then coughed lightly. "Tell me, Katrina, what kind of interesting questions have you encountered from the knocker recently?"
"Ah, the knocker loves to test logic and paradoxes," Katrina said, happy to return to an academic subject. She leaned in. "It asked me once: 'Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?'"
"That's a classic!" Fred said immediately. "I think the phoenix came first, obviously."
"I think so too!" George agreed instantly, not bothering with logic.
"Why?" Lee Jordan asked, chewing slowly.
"Because we guessed!" the twins declared in unison, their matter-of-fact confidence making everyone, including Katrina, laugh out loud.
"What about you, Albert?" Katrina pressed, eager to hear his reasoning.
"In the Muggle world, we have a similar, equally paradoxical question," Albert said, not answering directly. "Which came first, the chicken or the egg?"
"The egg, surely," Katrina answered, the logic seeming irrefutable. "A phoenix comes from the fire, but an egg is laid by the creature itself. The egg contains the potential."
"My answer is that the chicken came first," Albert replied, an answer that clearly took her by surprise.
"Why? That defies the biological cycle!" she challenged.