It takes more than a single cold day for frost to settle three feet deep.
Likewise, the terrible relationship between the Weasley twins and Filch hadn't formed overnight.
Last night, Fred and George spent the entire evening plotting how to get back at Filch and make the old caretaker miserable. Eventually, Lee Jordan joined in as well.
And the result?
The three idiots stayed up all night and couldn't drag themselves out of bed in the morning.
In the end, Albert returned to the dormitory after breakfast and shook them awake one by one, saving them from being late to Herbology.
"So sleepy," George yawned, gnawing listlessly on a slice of toast as they walked.
"I knew I shouldn't have stayed up discussing those stupid ideas with you two," Lee Jordan muttered. He finished his bread in three bites, then eyed the untouched slice in Fred's hand. "If you're not eating that, give it here. I'm starving."
"Who said I'm not eating it?" Fred stuffed half the bread into his mouth at once. With his cheeks puffed out, he mumbled through crumbs, "Still want some?"
Lee Jordan gave him a look of pure disgust and turned away.
"By the way," Albert asked casually, "after talking all night, what brilliant plan did you three come up with?"
"We're going to chuck a few dungbombs outside Filch's office door," Fred said excitedly.
"That's it?" Albert stared at them, speechless.
You stayed up all night for that?
They were passing through the corridor toward Greenhouse One when a shriek echoed ahead. The four exchanged looks before hurrying forward—only to find Peeves the Poltergeist hovering gleefully in mid-air, an ink bottle in hand, blowing ink pellets at passing students.
Someone threw a wad of parchment at him in retaliation.
Peeves dodged effortlessly and cackled, then spat a mouthful of ink directly into the student's face.
The victim's expression twisted in fury, but of course, there was nothing anyone could do to a poltergeist. Students could only hold books over their heads and dash past as fast as possible.
"Peeves… are you supposed to be a ghost?" Albert stared at the chaotic little figure. It was his first time seeing the infamous poltergeist up close. Peeves had sharp black eyes, a huge grinning mouth, a tiny wiry body, and a cap jingling with bells.
Their eyes met, and Albert immediately understood: this creature lived for malicious mischief.
"What do you think?" Peeves hissed, his wicked smile widening as he drifted closer. A chill crawled up their spines.
"Clearly not—a ghost wouldn't be able to pick up an ink bottle." Albert drew his wand in one smooth motion, flicked it, and said, "Protego!"
The wave of ink splattering toward them struck the Shield Charm and ricocheted away.
Even Peeves froze, momentarily startled that his prank had failed.
"Nasty little brat," he spat. After the bottle bounced harmlessly to the floor, he made a rude gesture at Albert and zoomed away.
"No wonder everyone hates him," Lee Jordan growled, staring in horror at the ink splatters on his robes.
"Scourgify." Albert raised his wand and cleaned most of the ink from the floor with the Scouring Charm.
"Actually, don't clean too much," Fred said quickly. The twins shared a wicked grin. "The more footprints, the better. Filch will be livid. And it's all Peeves's fault anyway."
Albert sighed. "Fine, let's just go. Try not to be late."
"How did you do that spell just now?" George asked as they reached the entrance to Greenhouse One.
"You mean the Shield Charm," Albert replied. Around them, half the students were ink-stained victims of Peeves's ambush.
"Shield Charm?" Fred muttered. "I think I've heard of that one."
"The Shield Charm is a very practical defensive spell," Albert explained. "It can block most physical and magical attacks."
He spotted Professor Sprout approaching, and the crowd quickly parted. The Head of Hufflepuff unlocked Greenhouse One and ushered them inside.
"Where'd you learn it?" Lee Jordan asked as they found a worktable. "You seem to know loads of spells already."
"I found it in an extra book I bought. It looked useful, so I decided to learn it. Took a lot of practice." Albert offered the half-truth smoothly.
In reality, he had simply spent experience points to master it. But there was no harm in having a spell that could save his life.
"For us, that spell must be impossibly difficult," George said admiringly. "But it's brilliant. If you know it, no one can hit you with a jinx."
Albert rolled his eyes. Among Hogwarts students, most duels were just rookies flinging Stinging Hexes.
"What happened to all of you?" Cedric Diggory asked from across the table, surprised at everyone's stained robes.
"Peeves," Fred said darkly. "He's been spitting ink at students. You're lucky—he cleared out a minute ago."
"Open your copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi," Professor Sprout instructed. "Today's lesson will give you a basic understanding of Herbology—what it involves and what you'll be learning this year."
Professor Pomona Sprout was a short, cheerful witch with a round face and a warm smile. In their first Herbology class, she introduced the students to several common magical plants and their uses.
Albert felt Herbology was a bit like Muggle botany—but with more dangers and more explosions. Students needed to learn how to grow, handle, and identify plants, along with understanding their magical properties.
Some plants were potion ingredients or medicinal herbs. Others had distinct magical effects.
A prime example was dittany.
Dittany was a powerful healing plant, used in potions and medical mixtures.
Sprout explained that not all injuries could be healed with magic alone, and dittany played an important role even in modern wizard medicine.
Wizards centuries ago had simply chopped the plant and applied it directly to wounds. Today, healers extracted dittany essence—just a drop could heal injuries quickly and even prevent scarring.
Unfortunately, wild dittany had grown scarce, and most now needed to be cultivated.
Learning how to grow and care for dittany would be one of their major lessons this term—and, as Sprout emphasized, a key topic for their exams.