The name Miranda Goshawk was not just familiar to them; it was foundational. As long as a student hailed from a wizarding family, they had surely heard of the influential witch who had compiled the Book of Spells, a text so universally accepted it had been translated into seventy-two languages.
However, controversy had led to its revision. Some of the curses and slightly harmful charms contained in the original Book of Spells caused a stir, prompting the Ministry of Magic to intervene. Goshawk had subsequently revised her work, creating the Standard Book of Spells series that Hogwarts students now used for Charms class.
The tale was that Goshawk was more disappointed by the wizarding world's rigid rejection of even minor "evil" spells than by the editing itself. Her position was that including mildly offensive spells in textbooks would actually help prevent students from resorting to genuinely dangerous or forbidden curses when disputes arose.
"I actually agree with her," Albert mused as they walked, a thoughtful expression on his face. "A little harmless jinxing goes a long way toward avoiding a catastrophe."
As they talked, they found themselves back on the eighth floor, near the tapestry depicting the Troll Being Thrice Beaten by Barnabas the Barmy.
"Still hunting for the elusive broom cupboard?" Albert asked, observing the twins' furtive glances at the wall opposite the tapestry.
"We've been here at least three times now," George admitted, lowering his voice despite the empty corridor. "Since you're the one with the superior brain, we figured you might have a different angle on finding it."
Albert smiled, an unsettling knowledge in his eyes. He knew exactly what the mysterious door was—the Room of Requirement—but he was not about to reveal such a massive secret yet. It was far more entertaining to guide their thinking.
"You're very interested in a mere broom cupboard," Albert noted, feigning suspicion.
"Yes, we are," Fred confirmed. "How could a door just appear and disappear like that? It violates all the rules of architecture, even in a magical castle!"
Albert walked up to the blank stone wall and gently tapped it, pretending to be utterly perplexed. "This is precisely where you found the door, correct?"
"Right here! Yes!" Fred nodded, eagerly anticipating his analysis.
"And it wasn't here, then you passed by, and it suddenly materialized?" Albert pressed. "Are you absolutely certain it was just a broom cupboard door?"
"It appeared without warning," George confirmed, emphasizing the uncanny nature of the event. "And we were frantic to escape Filch, so we bolted inside."
"You were intensely focused on needing a place to hide, then?" Albert clarified, his voice quiet and analytical.
"Yes, we were desperately searching for a place to hide," Fred agreed.
"In that case," Albert said, adopting the tone of a master wizard setting a spell, "face this wall now, concentrate, and try to desperately wish for a place to hide."
Fred and George exchanged a skeptical look but complied, turning to face the cold stone wall with an exaggerated air of concentration.
Of course, nothing happened.
"Hmm, curious," Albert murmured, playing the role perfectly. "Perhaps it's just a common broom cupboard that can be magically moved around the castle, or... it only appears when the need is truly overwhelming."
Albert's words were a carefully mixed blend of truth and deliberate misdirection, designed to plant the correct idea—the need—while obscuring the greater reality of the Room itself.
A hint of disappointment flickered in Fred's eyes. They had hoped Albert could crack the mystery immediately.
"Actually, you shouldn't be so fixated on the broom cupboard," Albert said, shifting the focus decisively. "A mobile broom cupboard seems a bit… low-level for a Hogwarts secret."
"What do you mean?" The twins and Lee Jordan snapped their attention back to Albert.
"You told me the door wasn't just to a broom cupboard; the broom cupboard was what was inside the door," Albert reminded them.
"Yes, and?"
"Since it's a door, it leads to a room—a mysterious room," Albert whispered, brushing his hand against the smooth wall. "At that moment, you needed a place to hide from danger, so... the room provided you with a perfect hiding spot."
The light of understanding dawned simultaneously in the eyes of all three listeners. "You mean the room changes its purpose based on the user's needs?" Fred asked, his voice hushed with wonder.
Albert nodded, leaning in with a suggestion filled with mischievous potential. "The next time your bladder is particularly full, come here and concentrate. See if it provides a suitable lavatory for you."
Lee Jordan clutched his stomach, laughing so hard he doubled over. "Albert's idea is brilliant! The ultimate test!"
"That noble and vital task falls to you, George," Fred declared with a serious expression.
"And why not you, you coward?" George countered, rolling his eyes at his twin's dedication to avoiding the less glamorous testing methods.
"What are you all doing here?"
Percy Weasley appeared unexpectedly, his gaze instantly locking onto his younger twin brothers. "I heard persistent rumors that a few Gryffindor students were wandering the castle late the other night and were nearly apprehended by Filch."
"Oh, those guys sound incredible," Fred praised immediately, ignoring his brother's accusatory tone.
"Was it you two?" Percy demanded, his eyes narrowing. He had instantly suspected them when he heard the rumors.
"Percy, if you intend to slander us, you must provide verifiable evidence," George retorted, using a piece of boilerplate wisdom he'd picked up from Albert. "Be careful, or you'll find yourself facing a lawsuit for defamation."
"As evidence, I note that you both inexplicably missed two Herbology classes on Tuesday," Percy fired back, his tone stern. "I don't care what you were doing, but cease this foolish behavior immediately."
"Ahem." Albert cleared his throat gently, drawing the attention of all four. "With all due respect, Percy, I think you're barking up the wrong tree. I heard that Filch knows nearly every secret passage in the castle. No student, let alone a first-year who has only been here a few months, could possibly evade him."
Albert then ruthlessly dismantled their potential guilt. "It's genuinely impossible for first-years to escape Filch's hunt. They would need the deep, intimate knowledge of the castle that only seasoned, upper-year students could possess. It's far more likely to be someone in the third or fourth year, or older."
Albert's logic was so sound, so ruthlessly logical, that even Percy hesitated. The argument—that it was an issue of experience and ability, not just recklessness—made perfect sense.
"Don't casually doubt your own brothers, Percy," Fred chided, capitalizing on Albert's defense.
Lee Jordan stared at Albert, his mouth slightly agape. He knew, with absolute certainty, that Fred and George were the culprits. Yet, here was Albert, the most honest and logical person they knew, lying with such flawless conviction that he had even convinced the overly suspicious Percy.
How can he lie like that, and yet sound so incredibly right? Lee Jordan thought, completely disoriented. It was, undoubtedly, a magical feat in itself. The twins had, impossibly, done the impossible.