THE ALCHEMIST OF HARRY POTTER

Hogwarts had won countless trophies over the centuries. As Albert scanned the shelves, he noticed the gleaming Triwizard Tournament Cup, the intricate trophy from the International Wizarding Chess Tournament, the Golden Crucible awarded in the Magic School Potions Championship, and the grand alchemical designs showcased in the Cairo International Alchemy Tournament plaque. Among them, of course, sat Tom Riddle's Special Award for Services to the School, its engraved nameplate reflecting the flickering torchlight.

"If only I could win a trophy and have it placed here," Lee Jordan sighed, his eyes brimming with admiration as he gazed at the shimmering awards.

"I think Albert has a shot. You, on the other hand… forget it!" Fred and George Weasley appeared on either side of Lee, each clapping a hand on his shoulder with a grin.

"No one can predict the future," Albert said nonchalantly. "You might earn a trophy of your own someday. The Special Contribution Award is quite easy to obtain. Just have a word with Dumbledore and donate five or ten thousand Galleons to the school—he'll probably arrange one for you."

The trio froze at Albert's casual remark. Five or ten thousand Galleons? How could he say something like that so easily?

"That's a fortune!" Fred and George exchanged glances, their pockets practically empty. They even doubted whether their entire family's savings reached that sum.

Lee Jordan wriggled free of their grasp. "You're not actually considering it, are you?"

"Actually, I'm more curious about the kind of prize money I could get. Glory is one thing, but money is real." Albert shook his head, dismissing the idea with a chuckle.

He valued Galleons far more than recognition. Money was practical.

Having lived another life, he knew the truth behind the saying: 'With money, things get done.' Another phrase came to mind—'Wealth breeds confidence.'

"Don't look at me like that. I'm just being realistic." Albert coughed, steering the conversation away. "Let's go. I have a feeling the library is on the fifth floor."

"You're right—money is useful, and I hate being broke," George admitted. The twins, having grown up in a cash-strapped household, understood this better than anyone.

The four of them made their way up, shoving each other playfully, and eventually stumbled upon the library. Unfortunately, it wasn't open yet.

"Let's explore other places first," Albert suggested. It turned out to be a wise decision, as they soon discovered a hidden passage concealed behind a tall, ornate mirror.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The unmistakable voice of Professor Snape cut through the air. The four of them turned to see the Potions Master standing behind them, his black robes billowing ominously.

"We're looking for a shortcut, Professor," Albert replied smoothly, unfazed by Snape's piercing gaze. He had, after all, anticipated this encounter.

"Shortcut?" Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Well, Hogwarts is like a maze," Albert continued, his tone even. "First-years don't get maps, so it's necessary to learn the castle's layout to avoid getting lost—or being late to class."

Snape's lips curled slightly, but he said nothing. Instead, he watched as Albert reached into his bag and produced a camera.

"By the way, Professor, may I take a photo?" Albert asked sincerely.

The three beside him stiffened, exchanging looks of disbelief.

Snape's expression remained unreadable, though his glare intensified.

Albert's smile didn't waver. "Sir, is that a no?"

"If you have time to wander the corridors…"

"We weren't wandering," Albert interjected, still composed. "We're simply making the most of our free time to familiarize ourselves with the castle. It's important for first-years. I'm sure you'd agree, Professor."

Snape opened his mouth, then closed it again. The logic was irritatingly sound, and the three Gryffindors could barely contain their amusement.

Snape's lips twitched. "If you have so much free time, I suggest you spend it rereading *Magical Drafts and Potions*. Next lesson, I'll be questioning you first. Now, get out of my sight."

"See you on Friday, Professor." Albert waved cheerfully before ushering the others down the corridor.

"Merlin's beard, did you just try to take a picture of Snape?" Lee Jordan gaped at him.

"You actually had the nerve to talk back to him," Fred added, impressed.

"I didn't argue. I simply stated the facts," Albert shrugged.

"He's famous, you know…" George began, grinning.

Albert raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"…For being utterly unreasonable." George chuckled. "But his face just now—priceless!"

Lee Jordan, however, remained fixated on the mirror. "Where do you think that passage leads?"

"No idea. We'll check it out later." Albert glanced at his system panel, where a new task had appeared:

**Master of Mischief**

Snape is one of the least popular professors at Hogwarts—outside of Slytherin. You've successfully flustered him once; why not make a habit of it?

**Progress:** 1/5

**Reward:** 2000 experience points.

Albert smirked. Now *that* was interesting.

"By the way, what are you going to do about the Potions lesson?" Fred suddenly asked.

Albert blinked. "What about it?"

"Snape's going to grill you first," Lee Jordan reminded him. "You ready for that?"

Albert waved a hand dismissively. "As long as the questions come from *Magical Drafts and Potions*, I'll be fine."

The others exchanged glances, remembering Albert's photographic memory and sharp intellect. Of course, he'd be fine.

"If you get every answer right, do you think he'll award you house points?" George asked suddenly.

"Absolutely not," Albert said without hesitation.

"Yeah, I figured," Fred sighed. "Well, at least it'll be entertaining to watch."