Chapter 49
Upon arriving at the Great Hall, Albert found that breakfast at Hogwarts was as lavish as ever. Due to the unusual way they had returned to school the previous day, Ron and Harry circled around him, eager to ask about the exact details of what had happened.
As Albert took his seat, the Weasley twins clapped him on the back from behind.
"Thanks a lot, Albert," said Fred sincerely. "Dad told us it was you who slipped the money into his pocket. George and I… well, we're going to work hard to repay you."
Albert shook his head with a warm smile. "No need to thank me. Honestly, if you didn't have such a big family, I wouldn't have even thought of it. And you don't have to pay me back. I know this might sound arrogant, and I'm sorry if it does, but my family is… well, financially stable. I just saw that my friend's family was going through a rough patch, and I wanted to help."
Fred and George exchanged a glance, visibly moved.
"Still, thank you, Albert," said George. "We managed to get what we needed with that money, and there's even a little left. At the very least, you should take what's left."
"No, keep it," Albert insisted. "You two need it more than I do. I have a feeling you're working on something, aren't you? Why not invest the rest of the money into your project?"
Fred and George looked at him in surprise, clearly shocked by how easily Albert had figured them out.
They didn't press him on how he knew. The subject was dropped, and soon after, the twins made their way to the other side of the table to eat with Lee Jordan.
Albert shrugged and turned his attention to the hearty breakfast in front of him. It was true: everyone tended to eat more after a bit of physical training. Even Hermione seemed to be eating more than usual this morning.
While they ate, dozens of owls swooped in from the sky above. At the start of every school year, there was always a higher number of deliveries—books forgotten at home, potion ingredients urgently needed, and all sorts of last-minute school supplies.
Some packages were more dramatic than others. Neville's, for example, was enormous—as always. No wonder his grandmother had sent him that Remembrall last year. Although the little ball only glowed red when he'd forgotten something, it was fitting.
Just then, Albert noticed a gray blur falling from above. He quickly pulled his milk jug aside with his left hand and reached out with his right to catch the falling object.
"Looks like Ron's owl," Hermione said, startled by Albert's swift reflexes. She leaned closer to inspect the exhausted bird.
Albert took a closer look and confirmed it was indeed Errol, the aging owl of the Weasley family, with a letter clutched in its beak. He walked over to Ron and handed over the feeble creature along with the letter.
"You really ought to replace your family's owl," Albert said mildly. "He's getting way too old for this."
"If it weren't for all those Lockhart books Mum had to buy, we could've gotten a new one this year," Ron muttered as he opened the letter. He glanced at it and then looked up at Harry and Albert.
"The Ministry wants to hush up the whole wall incident," he said. "So they've given us ten Galleons each in compensation. Dad's passed it along to me and Harry. When Mum next goes to the post office, I'll send Harry his share. Errol's too old to carry thirty Galleons."
"Don't worry about it," Harry said quickly. "Anytime is fine."
"Bit of a silver lining, I suppose," he added. "Ten Galleons is a lot of pocket money for me."
"My mum confiscated mine," Ron grumbled, clearly less fortunate.
Just as breakfast was winding down, Professor McGonagall began handing out their class schedules. Their first lesson of the year was Herbology, held in the greenhouses alongside the Hufflepuffs.
Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher at Hogwarts, was usually a cheerful and easygoing woman, but Albert noticed that today she stood at the greenhouse door wearing a decidedly sour expression.
Something had clearly set her off.
And that something was standing right beside her.
It was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in flowing turquoise robes, his gleaming blond hair shining in the morning sun, and a matching hat adorned with gold trim.
As the students approached, Lockhart greeted them with the enthusiasm of a spring breeze and began bragging—once again—about his supposed expertise in Herbology.
Before he could get too far into his monologue, however, Professor Sprout cut him off with a sharp command.
"To Greenhouse Three today!" she called.
Last year, they had only worked in Greenhouse One. According to upper-year students, the plants there were tame, somewhere between ordinary and magical. Greenhouse Three, on the other hand, was home to truly magical—and more dangerous—specimens. If handled carelessly, you might walk in upright and be carried out sideways.
The door to the greenhouse creaked open, releasing a heady mix of fresh fertilizer and floral fragrance. Inside, Albert saw an array of plants that writhed and twitched like living creatures. Some had enormous blossoms that seemed almost to watch them.
Just as Albert was about to step inside, Lockhart intercepted Harry and tried to talk to him—no doubt in another attempt to cling to celebrity status.
"This is a school," Hermione muttered under her breath. "He shouldn't be doing that here. It's a place for learning."
Albert laughed aloud at her indignant tone, remembering Hermione's behavior in the original timeline. He had to admit—obsessing over celebrities could really skew a person's judgment.
When Hermione gave him a disapproving glare, he quickly raised his hands in defense.
"You're right," he said. "That whole star persona is really inappropriate. But maybe he just hasn't adjusted to being a teacher yet. Give him time—he might settle down."
"You always try to see the best in people, Albert," Ron grumbled. "Just like when you defended Snape last year. At least Snape actually knows Potions. Lockhart's just a big bag of hot air. Didn't you hear him trying to out-talk Professor Sprout about her own subject?"
Inside the greenhouse, the students found earmuffs laid out on each chair. Today's lesson involved repotting Mandrakes.
Hermione, as expected, answered Professor Sprout's questions perfectly and earned ten points for Gryffindor.
Mandrakes—or Mandragora—were highly magical plants known for their ear-splitting screams. When fully grown, their cries could be fatal. That's why proper protective gear—like the earmuffs—was essential.
Once everyone had put theirs on, Professor Sprout pulled a Mandrake from its pot. The plant looked like a muddy, wriggling baby with leaves for hair and let out a shriek that, thankfully, no one could hear.
Albert stared at the squirming creature, struck by how much it resembled ginseng—though sadly, Mandrakes had no restorative properties. They were mainly used in antidotes.
That thought sparked another: What if you could turn a Mandrake into a kind of magical tonic? Like venom wine? He imagined a "Mandrake Bubble Elixir" that might enhance circulation or boost stamina.
Hermione, noticing his far-off look, nudged him with her elbow.
Albert blinked and returned to the present just in time to see that the demonstration had ended.
Fortunately, his moment of daydreaming hadn't caused him to fall behind. The hands-on portion of the class was just beginning.
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