Sunday morning arrived gray and wet, rain drumming steadily against the castle windows.
At seven o'clock, as dawn broke through the mist, Albert—still yawning after washing up—was practically dragged out of the dormitory by his overly excited roommates toward the Great Hall for breakfast.
"I really don't understand what's so exciting," Albert muttered, straightening his robes after freeing himself from the twins' grip.
"That's Hogsmeade Village we're talking about!" Lee Jordan said, eyes wide with enthusiasm. "The most fun place in all of Britain!"
"All of Britain?" Albert sighed softly. Clearly, he and his friends weren't on the same wavelength.
On their way down the corridor, the twins were practicing the Lumos Charm between steps—until they ran straight into Filch.
Unluckily for them, George's wand was still glowing.
Moments later, he found himself standing in the caretaker's office while Filch gleefully unrolled a massive parchment across his desk. The old man dipped a long black quill into ink and began scribbling with relish.
"Name… George Weasley.
Offense… Reckless use of magic in the hallway.
Punishment suggestion…"
"Ahem— I only used the Lumos Charm because the corridor was dim," George said quickly, trying to sound innocent. "You know, it's still early, and—"
Filch's quill scratched decisively. "Scrubbing bedpans in the Hospital Wing," he said with a wicked grin. "They haven't been washed all summer."
George froze, horror creeping across his face.
"You may go," Filch added smugly. "And you'd better not let me catch you using magic in the corridors again."
When George rejoined the group, Albert couldn't help himself—he burst out laughing.
"Don't worry," Albert said, patting George on the shoulder. "I'll teach you the Scouring Charm. Bedpans won't stand a chance. Besides, Filch can only make 'suggestions.' He doesn't actually have the authority to punish anyone directly."
"That guy's unbearable," George muttered, glaring back at the office door. "I hate him already."
"Cheer up. I'll buy you a butterbeer later," Albert said, suppressing another laugh. Then, more curiously, "So—what did you see in his office?"
"See? You mean besides all the chains, leg irons, and handcuffs hanging behind his desk?" George grimaced. "That old creep definitely has… issues."
Albert chuckled to himself. Old bucket, as Hagrid called him, did seem fitting for Filch—a Squib with no real place in a magical school. Still, insulting him out loud didn't seem worth it.
"Anything else?" Albert asked. "I bet he's confiscated a ton of stuff over the years."
"Yeah, I saw a filing cabinet labeled 'Confiscated Materials — Highly Dangerous,'" George replied, eyes gleaming.
Fred's grin widened. "So that's where he keeps all the good stuff."
"If those items were truly dangerous, they wouldn't just be sitting in his office," Albert said thoughtfully. "Still… I wouldn't be surprised if the Marauder's Map was in there."
The twins exchanged a meaningful look—and identical mischievous smiles.
"You two aren't thinking of—"
"Of course not!" they said in unison, feigning innocence. "That's slander!"
Albert raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.
Breakfast in the Great Hall was as lavish as ever. Albert filled his plate with milk porridge, a fried egg, two slices of bacon, a sausage, some toast, and a small salad before sitting down.
"Morning!" A boy passing by waved to the twins.
"I remember you—you're from Hufflepuff…" Lee Jordan trailed off, glancing at Albert for help.
"Cedric Diggory," the boy said with a friendly smile.
"Hello, Cedric," the twins greeted. "Didn't expect you to be in Hufflepuff."
"I don't think Hufflepuff's bad," Cedric replied evenly.
"We didn't say that," Fred said quickly.
"It's just that Gryffindor's better," George finished with a grin.
Cedric rolled his eyes.
"Long time no see, Albert." Another boy approached and smiled. "Didn't expect you in Gryffindor—that's a surprise."
"Long time no see, Gabriel," Albert said warmly. He recognized his summer pen pal immediately.
"You two know each other?" Cedric asked, curious.
"Of course," Gabriel said with a knowing smile. "We met over the holidays. Remember that person I mentioned to you?"
Cedric's eyebrows shot up. So this was him? The mysterious friend Gabriel had bragged about?
After Gabriel left, the twins turned to each other and spoke in perfect sync.
"It couldn't be—"
"Be what?" Lee Jordan blinked, confused.
"The thing," they said ominously.
"What thing?" he repeated, still clueless.
Albert coughed lightly. "It's good that you know. Just keep it to yourselves—or I'll make sure you get no Christmas presents this year."
"We'll keep your secret," the twins said solemnly, crossing their fingers over their lips.
"Hey! Don't leave me out, you three scoundrels," Lee complained, feeling completely excluded.
Fred nudged him. "Remember that thing we talked about on the train?"
"Fifty Galleons," George whispered.
Lee's eyes went wide. "That thing?! How did you even—"
"Not so loud," Albert hissed, putting a finger to his lips. "I'd rather the entire school didn't hear about it."
"Alright, alright," Fred said, lowering his voice. "But you're seriously incredible."
George nodded in agreement. "If only we could make twenty-five Galleons that easily."
"No wonder you were so confident when betting all your winnings," Lee added, half impressed, half jealous.
Albert smirked. "It's not about luck," he said. "Though speaking of it—do you know why wands made of red cedar are popular among wizards?"
"They bring good fortune?" George guessed.
"Exactly," Albert said smoothly, hiding a grin. "I just had a feeling that time—that I was due for a big win."