For students living at Hogwarts, weekends were undoubtedly the best days.
On weekends, no one worried about being late for class, and everyone could sleep in until they woke naturally. Afterward, they didn't have to think about classroom problems, so they could relax, recover from the week's stress, and catch their breath in the midst of busy academic life.
Early that morning, the Weasley twins' beds were already empty. They had risen early and gone out, planning to plant garlic in a sunny clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
It was a spot they had painstakingly found—quiet, secluded, and unlikely to be discovered.
Honestly, Albert couldn't understand what Fred and George were thinking. Was it really worth the effort to plant garlic just to make those ridiculous amulets?
Perhaps.
Their thought processes were unique, and nothing they did was particularly surprising anymore.
By the time Albert finished breakfast, Fred and George had already returned. Their robes and hands were smeared with dirt. After quickly washing up in the lavatory, they launched into excited chatter about their garlic-planting expedition.
Listening to their endless enthusiasm, Albert wanted to complain: had they never considered simply planting garlic in a flowerpot?
Declining Lee Jordan's invitation to train at the Quidditch pitch, Albert instead went punctually to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. At precisely ten o'clock, he knocked on the wooden door.
He remembered, with some amusement, that the last time he had entered Professor McGonagall's office, he had accidentally dismantled her door. It was incredible that none of them had been punished for it.
The door opened from within. Professor Bard Broad smiled at Albert. "It's just ten o'clock—you're very punctual!"
"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Albert said, stepping inside.
The office was comfortable: several soft sofas, a bronze-colored carpet, and bookshelves neatly lining the walls, filled with hundreds of volumes. Blue silk curtains framed the window, through which Albert could see the courtyard below, where students strolled, chatted, and basked in the autumn sun.
"What would you like to drink?" Broad asked.
"Milk tea," Albert replied, then asked curiously, "Professor, if I may—did you graduate from Ravenclaw?"
"Yes. Not hard to guess, is it?" Broad winked. He tapped the empty teacups with his wand, and at once the rich aroma of milk tea filled the room.
Albert added sugar cubes, stirred slowly, and took a sip. "I've heard Ravenclaw's eagle-shaped bronze knocker is quite interesting."
"Yes," Broad nodded. "Answer its question correctly, and the common room door opens."
Albert smiled faintly, shaking his head. He doubted Ravenclaws would welcome strangers into their common room. People were always protective of their own spaces.
Broad gestured to the table. "Freshly baked pumpkin pasties. Perhaps you'll enjoy them."
"I do. They're best hot," Albert said, taking one. Then he mentioned the book he had recently finished. "Professor, I just read Simple Alchemy. It gave me a very peculiar feeling. It's hard to imagine that what's described there is truly Alchemy. Are you knowledgeable in this area?"
"I wouldn't pretend to be an expert," Broad admitted. "My understanding is limited to what's in books. But I imagine you didn't come here today to discuss Alchemy, did you?"
Albert shifted the conversation to Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, raising questions about its content and the spells it described.
"I'm glad you brought that up," Broad said cheerfully. "You're right—this book doesn't record many useful defensive spells. But do you know why it became required reading?"
"I do," Albert nodded. "It helps us recognize Dark creatures and teaches how to respond when we encounter them."
"Exactly. For a talented student like you, though, it's insufficient," Broad said. "The Ministry doesn't like students being exposed to moderately aggressive charms."
"Yes, that's clear," Albert agreed, biting into his pasty. "If I want to deepen my knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts, do you have suggestions?"
"I recommend Practical Defensive Magic and Its Restraint Against Dark Magic," Broad said, handing him a book from the shelf. "It's expensive, and the library doesn't have it, but I can lend you my copy."
"Oh, what a coincidence—I've already bought the set. I think the Shield Charm and Expelliarmus are quite effective," Albert said, wiping his hands before accepting the book. "Stupefy and the Impediment Jinx are also useful. Unfortunately, I don't know much about counter-spells."
"No, Mr. Anderson, it's remarkable you've mastered so many spells so quickly," Broad said, surprise flickering in his eyes. "I hear Professor McGonagall thinks highly of your Transfiguration skills."
"I believe I have talent, and with diligent practice, progress comes naturally," Albert replied. "It's always good to learn more—you never know when it will be useful."
"Greed for knowledge is no fault," Broad said with exaggerated flair. "Merlin's beard, you're more Ravenclaw than Ravenclaw! The Sorting Hat must have given you a choice."
"Yes. It thought all houses except Slytherin suited me," Albert said. "I chose Gryffindor because I'd already met my friends on the train."
"Having no prejudice is rare," Broad said warmly.
"One day, when you've mastered Practical Defensive Magic and Its Restraint Against Dark Magic, your Defense Against the Dark Arts will be at O.W.L. standard," Broad added regretfully. "But because this course was cursed by a certain wizard, it's become unstable. Most students' level in this subject is low."
"Professor, is the one who cursed the class still alive?"
"I'm afraid so," Broad nodded. "Otherwise, Headmaster Dumbledore would have lifted the curse. It's why finding a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor each year is so difficult."
"I've heard Aurors are experts in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Why doesn't Dumbledore invite them to teach?" Albert asked.
It was a question Albert had wondered about even in his previous life. Retired Aurors, with their experience, would be ideal teachers.
"Many are afraid," Broad said, blinking. Albert thought he saw contempt in his eyes.
"Afraid?"
"They believe the position is unlucky. Few professors leave it safely. The Ministry doesn't want to encourage it either."
"Professor, one more question," Albert said. "Has Dumbledore ever considered abolishing the class, renaming it, or replacing it with something else? If the curse is tied to the name, perhaps changing it would help."
Broad laughed heartily. "You make a good point. Defense Against the Dark Arts is just a name. Abandoning it isn't impossible. I think Dumbledore has considered it. But since the wizard who cast the curse still lives, he might simply curse the new class again."
Albert found the explanation reasonable, though evasive, and let the matter drop.
"If you study Practical Defensive Magic and Its Restraint Against Dark Magic, you can also borrow Defensive and Deterrent Charms from the library. It introduces many powerful spells," Broad continued. "But remember: what you see is only the surface of magic. Its wonder lies in subtle changes born of imagination. Powerful spells aren't everything—sometimes a small charm solves a problem more easily."
Albert pondered this as Broad concluded, "It's nearly lunchtime. Best not to miss it. I enjoyed our chat. Most students revere professors too much to sit and talk like this."
"I've benefited greatly. I look forward to our next conversation," Albert said respectfully, then left the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.