THE ALCHEMIST OF HARRY POTTER

"Filch is like a great slimy monster," Albert mused, amused by the twins' description of the caretaker. It reminded him of the way former students spoke about strict authority figures, much like old tales of the Slytherin house ghost, the Bloody Baron.

"No, everyone hates him," Fred said seriously. "Even Percy doesn't have a good word for him, and that's saying something. I really can't think of a reason why anyone would believe otherwise."

"Percy?" Albert raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he your brother? Should you really be talking about your family like that?" He resisted the urge to laugh and instead pulled out a pocket watch from his robes, checking the time. "Alright, it's almost time. Let's head to the Great Hall for breakfast, then explore the castle."

Following the same route Albert had taken earlier that morning, the twins showed great enthusiasm for the hidden passageways. When they reached the moving staircase, they timed it perfectly, avoiding the usual delays and arriving at the Great Hall without issue.

The hall was mostly empty when they entered for breakfast. The enchanted ceiling above was a dull gray, heavy with the promise of rain.

"We must be among the first to wake up," George said, slicing his baked potato and glancing around. "I don't remember the last time I was up this early."

"Three years ago," Fred said suddenly.

George gave him a skeptical look. "You remember that?"

"Of course not. I guessed," Fred admitted with a grin. "Are you seriously asking?"

"Typical."

"What are you drawing?" Lee Jordan asked, watching Albert scribble on parchment.

"I'm mapping out where we just walked," Albert explained, flipping the parchment to show them. "I plan to create my own map of Hogwarts."

Fred, however, was more intrigued by Albert's pen. "What is that? I've seen you writing for ages, but you haven't dipped for ink once."

"This?" Albert handed the pen to Fred. "It's a fountain pen, a Muggle invention. Quills aren't exactly convenient to carry around." He smiled. "This was a birthday gift from my friend Herb. It's not the best, but it's served me well."

Fred inspected the nib curiously. "It does feel a bit like a quill."

"That's because the mechanism is similar," Albert explained. "The advantage is that it stores ink inside, so you don't have to keep dipping it."

He laid out the parchment for the others to see. "We're here in the Great Hall. From the marble staircase to the moving staircases, Filch's office is nearby. There are two doors leading to the dungeons. The left one takes you to the kitchens—if you tickle the big pear on the fruit painting, the door handle appears."

"That's incredibly detailed," Lee said, studying the map.

"Where are we headed next?" George asked.

"I want to find the locations of our classrooms first," Albert replied, rolling up the parchment. "That way, I won't get lost on my way to lessons. After that, we can check for hidden passages. They tend to be behind tapestries, statues, stone walls, or even portraits."

"Sounds like they won't be too hard to find," Fred said eagerly, finishing his food.

"Not necessarily. Some need passwords or a specific action to reveal them," Albert corrected him. "I only found the kitchen entrance by accident when I touched the fruit painting."

"Why did you think that portrait hid something?" A voice interrupted. Albert turned to see Angelina Johnson, a fellow first-year Gryffindor, looking at him curiously.

"It was suspiciously large," Albert said matter-of-factly. "Almost the same size as the Fat Lady's portrait. It practically screamed 'there's a secret here.'"

The others exchanged glances, not entirely following Albert's logic. But they had to admit—he had been right.

"Are you alone, Johnson?" Albert asked. "Where's your roommate?"

"You actually remember my last name?" Angelina looked genuinely surprised. Even her roommate barely recalled it.

"I have a good memory," Albert said with a grin. "This is Lee, and these two are George and Fred. But don't ask me who's who—I can't tell them apart either."

"I'm George. George Weasley."

"No, I'm George, he's Fred," the other twin corrected smugly.

"Twins always do this," Albert mused. "Same clothes, same tricks. Makes it impossible to tell them apart." His gaze shifted as an owl swooped down toward their table.

"You forgot to introduce yourself, Albert," Lee pointed out.

"Oh, right." Albert reached for a piece of bread, breaking it into crumbs for the owl. "I'm Albert Anderson."

"Anderson, aren't you eating?" Angelina asked, watching him feed his owl while making herself a sandwich.

"I already ate in the kitchen," Albert said, stroking his owl's feathers. "On weekends, I have letters to send home, so I make sure to come here in the morning."

His owl, Sheila, hooted in acknowledgment.

Another owl flew in, dropping a copy of the *Daily Prophet* onto their table. It nearly landed in George's pumpkin porridge, but Fred caught it just in time.

"Can I borrow that?" Angelina asked, picking up the newspaper. "I want to check the Quidditch section."

"Go ahead," Albert said.

"You like Quidditch too?" the twins asked in unison.

"Of course! But first-years can't try out for the team," Angelina said regretfully.

"That rule isn't set in stone," Albert pointed out. "If a team is short on players, McGonagall might make an exception. Rules are made to be bent."

"I doubt she'd change her mind just for me," Angelina sighed. "But next year, one of Gryffindor's Chasers is graduating, so I'll definitely try out.

"What about you?" she asked the twins.

"Beaters," they replied in unison.

Albert had no doubt they'd be great at it.