Chapter 51
Albert didn't want chaos erupting in the classroom—especially not the kind that involved mischievous pixies wrecking students' belongings. With a flick of his wand, he pointed toward the teacher's desk and muttered a charm. A fine net burst forth like a bullet, shooting across the room and encapsulating the cage on the platform. The net snared most of the pixies inside, binding them together.
The three remaining pixies that had escaped the net were swiftly subdued by the students. Even Harry managed to capture one of the smaller ones with impressive agility.
Once all the pixies were securely returned to their cages, Lockhart, ever the showman, had a few words to say. He gave the class a brief, overly dramatic commendation, then added, "Five points to Albert, for his exceptional initiative!"
A faint smile touched Albert's lips—not because of Lockhart's praise, but because of what this moment foreshadowed. Something was coming.
Lockhart misinterpreted the smile entirely. Taking it as admiration, he puffed up his chest and launched into another tale. "Ah, yes! I remember subduing hundreds of pixies during my time in Scotland—nasty little beasts. I invented a charm just for them…"
Thankfully, before he could embellish further, the bell rang. It was the sweetest sound the class had heard all day.
Later that day, as was their custom, Albert and Hermione headed to the library to complete their assignments. Not long after, Ginny joined them. She first thanked Albert for returning her notebook, then quietly asked for his opinion about Lockhart's class.
"I can't help but feel Professor Lockhart may not be the best instructor," Albert whispered, leaning toward her. "Bringing magical creatures into the classroom like that? Completely irresponsible."
Hermione, who was watching their conversation from across the table, seemed conflicted. She looked as though she wanted to say something to Albert, but ultimately stayed silent. With a faint blush on her cheeks, she packed her things and left.
After dinner, Albert returned to the Gryffindor dormitory to fetch a few items, then made his way to the shared bathroom. Since it was divided among three rooms, each house group had access to a communal bath. Finding it empty after a quick check, Albert stepped inside for a hot shower.
Once he had washed his face at the sink, he decided to call it a night and head back to the common room. He went to bed around eight and rose early the next morning to exercise—something he'd made part of his daily routine. To his surprise, Hermione was already up, reading alone by the fireplace.
"Is this what study maniacs do?" Albert thought, admiring her dedication.
Leaving the common room, Albert opted for a morning run through the castle. At 6:30 AM, Hogwarts was quiet, nearly deserted. He saw only a few students and a hurried professor in their pajamas.
Eventually, he descended to the second floor, drawn by a curiosity that had been nagging at him: Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
The corridor was rarely used, despite being a thoroughfare from the Great Hall. The bathroom itself looked abandoned and worn-down, clearly unused for years.
Just as Albert was about to take a closer look, a ghostly figure floated out from the wall. "Good morning, Albert. Bit early for class, isn't it? What brings you here?" It was Nearly Headless Nick, the resident ghost of Gryffindor House.
"I'm training," Albert replied honestly. He had always been interested in Hogwarts' history and frequently chatted with the ghosts, hoping to learn stories from those who had actually lived them—especially the tale of Myrtle's death in this very bathroom.
Because of his sincere curiosity and polite manner, Albert had developed good relations with many of the school's ghosts. They always greeted him warmly when he passed.
"Ah, physical training! A noble pursuit," Nick said, his head bobbing slightly. "Wizards in my day always kept themselves fit. Pity that modern wizards have forgotten the value of it." He shook his head with a sigh—and his head promptly detached. It fell, then slowly drifted back into place.
"Magic is useful, yes, but it's not everything," Nick added, repositioning his head. "If I had been more alert back then, perhaps I could've escaped those rogue wizards even without my wand."
"But Hogwarts doesn't exactly have many places for physical training," Albert said. "Running through the castle is really my only option. You've been here a long time—do you know any place where physical training is easier?"
Nick paused in thought. "Actually… I do believe there is a place that suits your needs."
Albert blinked. "Really? I've been at this school for a year and haven't seen anything like that."
Nick gave him a skeptical look. "It's no surprise you haven't. This place has existed for over two centuries, but students who discover it tend to keep it secret—and take that secret to the grave."
"What's it called?" Albert asked, though he already had a strong suspicion.
"It's called the Room of Requirement. You'll find it on the eighth floor, across from a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Walk past the wall three times while focusing on what you need, and the room will reveal itself. No one currently knows about it—not even the teachers. Some of the house-elves use it, though."
Albert's eyes gleamed. So, it was the Room of Requirement.
He'd known of its existence, but never its precise location. Now that he did, he could finally begin using it—though he also knew it was a place of great risk. After all, Voldemort had once hidden a Horcrux there for over sixty years, and no one had ever found it.
Nick's clue gave Albert the perfect excuse to investigate the room without raising suspicion.
"Thanks, Nick. I'll see you later," Albert said, returning to the dormitory to prepare for his next class.
On his way, he passed two upperclassmen levitating a stretcher toward the hospital wing. One looked regretful. The other... disturbingly pleased.
Albert frowned. The diary is with me now, so something else must've happened. But why is one of them smiling?
His thoughts were interrupted by a shocking announcement: Professor Lockhart had been admitted to the hospital wing.
After questioning a few students, Albert pieced together the story. Apparently, Lockhart—feeling upstaged by Albert's performance the day before—had tried to regain his prestige by demonstrating a dangerous magical creature to the older students. He had gone down to the potion storeroom to retrieve Nevin's snake for a demonstration, only to be bitten.
Luckily, Professor Snape had overheard the commotion and intervened in time. Had he not, Hogwarts might have needed a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher again.
Albert couldn't help but shake his head. Lockhart might not be a qualified teacher, but he was certainly committed to his image. He'd risked his own life for the sake of a reputation.
Still, when Defense Against the Dark Arts class resumed two days later—with Professor Snape filling in—Albert found himself hoping Lockhart would recover soon.
Snape's teaching methods were… less than kind.
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It was now Saturday morning, and Albert woke early with a purpose. Today, he and Hermione had planned a duel.
After breakfast, Albert led Hermione to the eighth floor, stopping before the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. The insane wizard was frozen mid-performance, as usual, his troll audience watching in baffled silence.
"Why are we here?" Hermione asked, puzzled. "There's nothing here."
"Patience," Albert replied. "Nick told me about a secret place. He wouldn't lie."
He focused his mind: A room to practice dueling. He walked back and forth three times.
"Albert… look!" Hermione gasped.
A door had appeared on the once-empty wall. Albert grasped the handle and looked back. "Come on. It looks safe."
Inside, the room was enormous. There were no windows, only torchlight flickering across stone walls. One side held rows of shelves packed with old books—thick, leather-bound tomes with titles like Common Hexes and Countercurses, Wisdom of the Dark Arts, and The Defensive Caster's Handbook.
In the center, thick gym mats covered the floor. Training equipment lined the far wall, some of which Albert recognized from their Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.
Hermione immediately rushed to the bookshelves, scanning the titles with glee. "Look at these!" she said. "These aren't even in the library!"
Albert smiled but interrupted her. "Let's train first. The books will still be here later."
They started by practicing the Disarming Charm. It was clear Hermione had been training on her own—her form was sharper, her spells more focused. At one point, she even hit Albert's wand... but it didn't budge from his grip.
Hermione looked triumphant for a second, but her face fell when she realized his wand hadn't moved.
Afterward, they debated what to learn next. Hermione suggested offensive spells like the Stunning Charm, but Albert persuaded her to study protective magic instead.
They found a section in the Defensive Caster's Handbook on shielding spells. While Hermione began her typical routine of reading aloud and repeating instructions, Albert scanned the other books for advanced techniques.
Soon, Hermione had mastered the shield charm. The two took turns casting spells and deflecting them with magical barriers. It wasn't long before Hermione noticed the growing gap between them...
(Continued...)
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