"Filch sounds like some sort of demon king," Albert said, amused by the Twins' description. It reminded him of how students in his old school used to call the dorm matron an "old witch" whenever she scolded them.
"No, really—everyone hates him," Fred said earnestly. "Even Percy said so. And if he says it, you know it's serious."
"What do you mean even Percy?" Albert raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he your brother? You talk about your family like you're not related."
He glanced at his pocket watch and stood up. "Alright, it's about time. Let's go grab breakfast first, then continue exploring."
They took the same route Albert had followed that morning. The Twins were brimming with curiosity, eagerly pointing things out as they went. When they reached the moving staircase, they waited for the perfect moment to hop on and soon arrived at the Great Hall.
The hall was nearly empty. The enchanted ceiling was a dull gray, heavy with clouds, as if it could start raining at any moment.
"We're probably among the first ones up," George said, looking around as he cut into his potatoes. "Can't remember the last time I woke up this early."
"Three years ago," Fred replied without missing a beat.
"You actually remember that?" George gave him a skeptical look. "You're not just guessing, are you?"
"Of course I'm guessing," Fred grinned. "And you actually fell for it."
"Figures," George muttered.
"What are you working on?" Lee asked, noticing Albert scribbling on a piece of parchment.
"Just sketching the route we took. I'm making a map of Hogwarts." Albert flipped the parchment around so they could see.
"I'm more curious about what that is." Fred pointed at the pen in Albert's hand. "You've been drawing this whole time without dipping it in ink."
"This?" Albert held it up. "It's a fountain pen. Muggles use it to write. Quills aren't exactly convenient to carry around."
He handed it to Fred, who examined it with fascination. "Feels a bit like a quill."
"The principle's similar," Albert said. "But a fountain pen stores ink inside, so you can write for a long time without refilling."
He spread out the parchment again. "This is the Great Hall. Outside is the entrance hall. The marble staircase leads up to the moving stairs. Filch's office is nearby. There are also two doors down here to the basements — the left one leads to the kitchens. You'll see a painting of a big silver fruit bowl. Touch the pear, and it turns into a doorknob."
"You're really detailed," Lee said, scanning the map. "I think I could find the kitchen just from this."
He handed it to the Twins. "So, where to next?"
"I want to mark the classrooms first," Albert said, folding the parchment neatly. "It'll save us from getting lost once lessons start. And on the way, we can see if we stumble across any secret passages."
"According to you, that shouldn't be too hard," Fred said, already finishing his roasted potatoes.
Albert shook his head. "Not quite. Some secret passages need a password or a special trigger. I only found the kitchen because I started poking at every bit of that fruit painting."
"Why did you even think that painting was suspicious?" a girl's voice asked suddenly. They turned to see Angelina Johnson, the new Gryffindor girl they'd met the night before.
"Because it looked suspicious," Albert said matter-of-factly. "It was the same size as the Fat Lady's portrait — practically advertising that something was hidden behind it."
"Oh." The four of them exchanged glances, half-understanding, half-impressed.
This guy's brain works on a different level, they all thought.
"Johnson, are you alone?" Albert asked. "Where are your roommates?"
"You actually remembered my name?" Angelina looked surprised. Even her roommates had trouble recalling it sometimes — they'd only just met, after all.
"My memory's not bad," Albert said with a grin. "Anyway, this is Lee, and those two are Fred and George. Don't bother asking me who's who — I can't tell either."
"I'm George Weasley," one said.
"No, I'm George. He's Fred," the other corrected immediately.
Albert chuckled. "See what I mean? Twins love pulling that trick — same clothes, same expressions, and no mercy for anyone trying to tell them apart."
He stopped when a familiar owl swooped down toward their table.
"You forgot to introduce yourself," Lee reminded him.
"Oh, right — distracted by my owl," Albert said as the bird landed gracefully. He tore a piece of bread and fed it to her. "I'm Albert Anderson."
"Anderson, aren't you eating?" Angelina asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.
"I already had breakfast in the kitchen," Albert replied, stroking Shera's feathers. "But thanks for asking. Oh — and on the weekend, I'll need to send a letter home. Meet me here in the morning if you want to see how owl post works."
Shera gave a soft hoot, as if confirming the plan.
Just then, another owl swooped down and dropped a copy of The Daily Prophet onto their table. Its aim was slightly off, nearly splattering George's pumpkin porridge. Fred snatched it just in time.
"Nice save," George said dryly.
"Can I borrow that?" Angelina asked, picking up the newspaper. "I want to read the Quidditch section."
"Oh, sure," Albert said easily.
"You like Quidditch too?" the Twins asked in perfect unison.
"Of course," Angelina said. "Too bad first-years can't try out."
"You can, technically," Albert said. "If the team needs players and you get Professor McGonagall's approval. Rules are meant to be broken, right?"
Angelina laughed softly. "Maybe. Still, I heard one of the Chasers will graduate next term. I'm planning to try out then. What about you two?"
"Beater suits us better," the Twins said together, grinning.