Hogwarts certainly had no shortage of trophies.
As Albert wandered through the Trophy Room, he spotted the gleaming Triwizard Cup, the International Wizard Chess Tournament trophy, a golden cauldron from the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's Potions Championship, and even the Creativity Medal from the Cairo International Alchemy Competition.
Of course, there was also that trophy—Tom Riddle's "Special Services to the School" award.
Lee Jordan's eyes lit up as he gazed at the display cases. "It'd be amazing to have my name on one of these someday."
"I think Albert might manage that," Fred said with a grin. "But you? Forget it."
George clapped Lee's other shoulder. "Dream smaller, mate."
"No one knows the future," Albert said mildly, trying to console him. "Maybe you'll win something after all. That 'Special Services Award' isn't too difficult—just talk to Dumbledore and donate, say, five or ten thousand Galleons to the school. He'll sort it out for you."
All three of them stared at Albert, mouths twitching.
Five or ten thousand Galleons?
Fred and George didn't even have a single Galleon between them, and they doubted the entire Weasley family fortune could reach that number combined.
Lee finally shook off their hands and muttered, "You wish…"
"Honestly, I'm more curious about how much prize money comes with these trophies," Albert said, cutting him off. "All the glory in the world can't buy you lunch. Gold, though—that's real."
He was dead serious.
Back in his past life, there was a saying he liked: Money makes things happen. And another: Money brings confidence.
"Don't look at me like that," Albert said, clearing his throat. "I'm just being realistic. Now come on—the library's probably on the fifth floor."
"You're right about one thing," Fred said, exchanging a look with his twin. "Money's a good thing."
"No one likes being poor," George agreed, a little more quietly.
The four of them shoved and joked their way up to the fifth floor—and sure enough, there it was: the Hogwarts Library. Unfortunately, it wasn't open yet.
"Let's look around first," Albert suggested. It turned out to be a wise decision. Behind a tall, human-sized mirror, they discovered what looked like the entrance to a hidden passage.
They were still examining it when a cold voice spoke from behind them.
"What are you doing here?"
They turned. Snape was standing there, silent and shadowy as a bat, his dark eyes glinting.
"We're looking for a shortcut, Professor," Albert said easily, unfazed by Snape's grim expression.
"A shortcut," Snape repeated slowly, his voice dripping with suspicion. His gaze locked onto Albert's eyes—but Albert promptly looked away, careful not to make direct eye contact. Everyone knew the best way to block Legilimency was simply not to meet the caster's gaze.
"We thought there might be a passage here that leads to another floor," Albert continued.
Before Snape could reply, the mirror suddenly slid aside with a soft grinding sound, revealing an opening behind it.
Snape frowned deeply, clearly about to lecture them—when Albert suddenly raised his camera.
"By the way, Professor," he said earnestly, "may I take a photo?"
The effect was immediate. Snape froze. So did Fred, George, and Lee.
Albert, however, just smiled pleasantly, camera in hand, as if he hadn't just asked to photograph the most intimidating professor at Hogwarts.
"…Is it not allowed, sir?" he asked politely.
Snape's eyes narrowed. "If you have time to wander the corridors—"
"We're not wandering, Professor," Albert interrupted solemnly. "We're using our free time to familiarize ourselves with the castle layout. For first-years, that's essential. After all, Hogwarts doesn't give us maps. Knowing the shortcuts can prevent students from getting lost—or arriving late to class."
The twins and Lee stared at Albert, stunned. How can he sound so righteous about this?
Even Snape hesitated for a heartbeat. Technically… it made sense. Hogwarts was a maze, and first-years didn't have maps.
Snape's lip curled slightly. "If you have so much free time, Mr. Anderson, I suggest you spend it studying Magical Drafts and Potions. I'll be questioning you first in our next class."
Albert smiled serenely. "Then, see you Friday, Professor."
Before Snape could respond, he nudged the others and hurried off down the corridor, disappearing around the corner.
Fred let out a long breath. "You actually asked to take a picture of Snape."
George shook his head in disbelief. "And you talked back to him. You know he's—"
"I didn't talk back," Albert said flatly. "I just stated the facts."
"Right, right, all facts," George said quickly, still laughing. "Even Snape couldn't argue with that."
"By the way, what were you about to say?" Albert asked. "Snape's famously what?"
"…Famously unreasonable," Fred said, snickering. "But his face just now—Merlin, that was priceless."
Lee, meanwhile, was staring at the now-hidden mirror. "Where do you think that passage leads?"
"I don't know," Albert said, eyes lighting up. "Let's come back and explore it this afternoon."
Just then, a new message popped up on his panel:
Troublemaker
Snape is one of the most unpopular professors in Hogwarts history. You have successfully provoked him once—why not keep it up?
Progress: 1/5
Reward: 2,000 experience points
Albert's mouth twitched. So I really am a troublemaker, huh?
"By the way," Fred said suddenly, "what about that thing Snape mentioned?"
Albert blinked. "What thing?"
"The questioning," Lee reminded him. "Didn't he say he'd call on you first next Potions class?"
"Oh, that." Albert waved a hand dismissively. "It's fine. As long as he sticks to Magical Drafts and Potions, I'll be fine. My memory's good enough."
The twins exchanged glances. "Right. We forgot you're basically a walking encyclopedia," Fred said.
"I'm actually looking forward to Friday now," George added with a grin. "If you answer everything perfectly, think Snape'll give you extra points?"
"Definitely not," Albert said without hesitation.
"I thought so too," George chuckled. "But at least everyone'll see what kind of professor he really is."