"Stop messing around," Lee Jordan cut off the Twins' antics, then turned to Albert. "Can it be fixed?"
"Hard to say. I won't know until I try." Albert stuffed Ulyric's Biography into his backpack, glanced at the bickering Twins, and reminded them, "If this book can't be repaired, then you'd better not return it."
"Why?" George asked, bewildered.
"Because if Madam Pince finds out what you've done, she'll ban you from the library," Albert said exasperatedly. "If you don't return it, at worst you won't be able to borrow books anymore."
Many Hogwarts assignments required research in the library. Being banned meant they wouldn't even be able to complete their homework properly.
"Oh, your History of Magic essay isn't finished yet, is it? It's due tomorrow," Albert added casually.
"Ah! Don't remind us!"
The three groaned in unison, suddenly remembering, and rushed back to the library to continue their tedious work.
Albert watched them go, shaking his head. He glanced at the so‑called treasure map in his hand, then returned to the Gryffindor dormitory.
"It failed?"
The damaged pages of Ulyric's Biography hadn't responded to Reparo.
At first Albert thought his spell had faltered, but testing it on other scraps of paper proved he could repair them. Why not this book?
"I don't understand," he muttered, flipping through the biography.
Written by Radolphus Pittiman, the book chronicled Ulyric of Ravenclaw, an eccentric wizard whose oddities even earned him a Chocolate Frog card.
According to the text, Ulyric once tried to prove that the screech of a Quintaped was beneficial to human health. He listened to its cries for three months straight—though it was well known that Quintaped chatter drove listeners mad.
There was nothing unusual about the book itself. Albert still couldn't fathom why the spell failed.
He set the book aside, then remembered the parchment. He stared at it for a long moment, preparing to clip it back inside.
His hand paused. Drawing his wand, he tapped the map and whispered, "Show your secrets!"
Nothing happened.
"Hmm. I was overthinking." Albert sighed, scoffed at himself, and tucked the parchment back into the book before leaving.
Unbeknownst to him, once he left, the parchment began to change.
In the common room, someone waved at him.
"Anderson."
A tall girl stood firmly before him.
"Something wrong?" Albert asked. Though tall for his age, he was still half a head shorter than her.
"I've been looking for you. Here—your letter." She handed him a note, her tone tinged with complaint.
"A letter?" Albert blinked, but accepted it politely.
"Professor Broad asked me to tell you to come to his office before eight tonight."
"Oh, I see. Have some candy." Albert pulled a few sweets from his pocket and offered them.
The girl studied him curiously, as if trying to figure him out.
"What is it?" Albert frowned at her scrutiny.
"I like chocolate flavor," she said, peeling one and popping it into her mouth. "Everyone says you're a genius—lucky Albert."
Albert froze, hand hovering over the note. He looked up, bewildered.
"I'm not a genius. I just work a little harder than others," he said, gesturing with thumb and forefinger.
"Haha, you're funny." She patted his shoulder hard. "Keep it up. You must surpass Isabelle MacDougal."
Albert winced, feeling his shoulder nearly dislocated.
"Thanks for the candy. It's good," she said, then left.
"What, you've hooked up with Crag?" a voice teased.
Albert turned to see Beater Irene behind him.
"Crag?" Albert echoed, startled, then realized. "She just brought me a message. Professor Broad wants to see me."
He opened the note. Its contents matched Crag's words. Checking his pocket watch, he bid Irene farewell and hurried off.
"What does Professor Broad want with me?" Albert wondered aloud, heading for the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
A few minutes later, he knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Inside was a middle‑aged wizard, about fifty, with glasses, slightly messy red hair, and a gentle smile.
Albert froze. Professor Broad wasn't there.
"Where is Professor Broad?" he asked.
"He went to the library. He'll be back soon," the man said warmly. "Bard told me to let you in if you came."
"Does he want to see me about something?" Albert asked cautiously, eyeing the parchments scattered on the table.
"Yes. It's about Ancient Runes. Bard thinks you can help us." The man sat opposite him. "I've seen your translations. They're impressive."
Albert blinked, caught off guard.
"Oh, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Morg—Morg MacDougal," the wizard said with a smile. "Please guide me."