"I feel like you've all been acting very strangely and conspicuously secretive lately."
Albert had barely stepped into the boys' dormitory before the low, conspiratorial murmurs of Fred, George, and Lee Jordan abruptly ceased. The three friends looked guilty, quickly scattering their maps and scraps of parchment, clearly failing in their attempt to conceal their latest scheme.
"Mysterious? Who, us?" George asked, suppressing a cough and meeting Albert's gaze with a forced, wide-eyed innocence.
"Yeah, right!" Fred chimed in immediately, folding his arms defensively.
Lee Jordan, recognizing the futility of deception, decided offense was the best defense. "What were you doing at Professor Brod's office for the entire afternoon? You're the one being the most secretive!"
"I was helping Professor Brod organize and translate some advanced documents," Albert replied, stating a carefully veiled truth. "As you know, my grasp of Ancient Runes is... quite proficient."
"We'd never believe that's all you were doing," Fred scoffed, knowing that Albert never did anything without an ambitious underlying purpose.
"So, what were you discussing just now?" Albert pressed, his eyes fixed on the hastily concealed papers. "Don't tell me you've decided to finally go hunting for the legendary Gryffindor hidden treasure?" He knew about their rough map and their obsession with finding an untapped stash of magical wealth.
"Do you want to come along?" Lee Jordan immediately blurted out, much to the fury of the twins.
"Traitor!" Fred whispered, shaking a clenched fist at Lee.
"With Albert's help, our chances of success are infinitely higher," Lee argued, ignoring his friend. "The Forbidden Forest isn't exactly safe, and we need a reliable lookout, not to mention a decent distraction." He clearly valued Albert's competence over the twins' commitment to secrecy.
"Let's forget it," Albert said, shaking his head dismissively. "I genuinely think you should stay well clear of the forest. Hagrid is extremely agitated right now. Be careful, or you might find yourselves hauled off to detention."
"I told you he wouldn't be interested," George muttered to Fred, already resigning himself to a two-person expedition. "As long as Hagrid doesn't actually see us when we slip inside the forest, we're fine."
"I figured you'd say that," Albert replied, pulling out McDougal's black notebook from his pocket. "Just don't go too deep. I heard a rumor that there's a massive breeding colony of Giant Eight-Eyed Spiders—Acromantula—somewhere inside. Be careful you don't end up as lunch."
"Nobody thinks you're dumb if you don't speak, Albert!" Fred complained, as Albert had a disturbing habit of being right about looming dangers.
"Duly noted." Albert ignored the jab and opened the heavy leather notebook, his concentration already focused on the dense, handwritten script.
"What is that?" George asked, leaning over Albert's shoulder curiously.
"It's a specialized research notebook that Professor Brod's friend lent me. It focuses on the application of Ancient Runes and Alchemical Geometry," Albert explained. He turned a few pages, noticing a letter tucked inside—a correspondence between Brod and McDougal that confirmed their long-standing academic relationship.
"The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor is remarkably fond of you," Lee Jordan observed, a hint of genuine jealousy in his tone.
"We have a cordial, working relationship," Albert insisted.
"No, no, it's beyond cordial. It's unnervingly close," George corrected, unable to reconcile the professor's reserved nature with his favoritism toward Albert.
Albert simply nodded, accepting the observation. He understood that his relationship with Brod and McDougal was less traditional mentorship and more an exchange of high-level intellectual currency. He was a prodigious mind they could test their concepts against, and they were the gatekeepers to knowledge he could not yet access.
The notebook confirmed this. The early pages contained transcriptions of complex debates between McDougal, Brod, and other high-level wizards about runic syntax and stabilization theory. This material was new and stimulating, broadening Albert's conceptual horizon dramatically.
As he progressed, the entries jumped forward several years. McDougal had graduated and noted that he had suddenly been granted a special identity—likely a position within the Ministry or a secret scholarly society—which allowed him access to a massive cache of ancient, restricted documents.
McDougal's focus shifted dramatically, detailing his attempts to use Ancient Runes not for translation, but for direct spell creation and casting.
"I can feel its special nature!" one entry exclaimed in triumphant, bold script. McDougal was documenting his successful effort to tap into the raw, inherent magic within the runic language itself.
"It's late, mate. Aren't you going to sleep?" Fred mumbled sleepily from his bed. "Be careful you don't turn into a zombie for morning classes."
"I'm turning in now, good night." Albert stifled a yawn, closed the notebook, extinguished the dormitory lamp with a silent wave of his hand, and slipped into a deep, much-needed sleep.
Albert woke up much later than usual the next day—around 10:00 AM. The dormitory was empty; everyone else had gone to classes. He stretched, picked up the notebook, and continued his reading, eager to reach the end.
McDougal's later entries focused on the specifics of the ancient spells he was learning. These spells were noted for their immense power yet deceptively simple execution. Frustratingly, the notebook only contained the names of the spells and high-level theoretical descriptions, but not the incantations or the exact wand movements, leaving Albert at a dead end for direct application.
The final pages detailed McDougal's ongoing, seemingly unsuccessful research into the special properties of Ancient Runes—what gave them their magical power beyond mere semantic meaning.
Albert then noticed a brief, intriguing entry: a correspondence between McDougal and Albus Dumbledore himself. The subject was Dumbledore's Patronus, specifically, how a unique, high-level piece of runic geometry might be used to enhance the corporeal form of the spell.
Unfortunately, the conversation ended abruptly there. The notebook contained no further entries, no conclusion, and no indication of a 'Part Two.'
"'I can feel his strangeness!'" Albert repeated the cryptic phrase from the notebook. He needed to ask McDougal directly. He quickly dressed and headed straight back to the Defence Against the Dark Arts office.
McDougal was already there, looking slightly more worn out than he had the day before—the cost of his Wizengamot duties and frantic book writing.
"Have you finished reading, Albert?" McDougal asked, noting the black notebook in Albert's hand.
"Yes, I finished it. It was fascinating," Albert confirmed. "But I feel like I only have half the story. There must be another volume of these notes, surely?"
"That's all there is, I'm afraid," McDougal said, shaking his head with a definitive finality.
"Seriously? That's it?" Albert was genuinely surprised, the lack of resolution deeply unsatisfying to his methodical mind.
"Only joking, Albert," McDougal chuckled, his eyes crinkling. "But you're correct, there is no Part Two. The reason is simple, and it touches on your question about the origins of runic power. Why are runes thought to have magical properties that go beyond simple script?"
"I assumed it was because a subtle layer of ambient magic was integrated during the carving or inscription process," Albert offered, recalling his own system panel insights.
"Yes, but not entirely correct," McDougal said softly. "I can't simply hand you the true answer, because my understanding is wholly based on my own intuitive comprehension of the entire runic framework. Until you reach that same level of insight, it's virtually impossible to fully comprehend, much less utilize, the deepest layer of their power."
Albert listened intently, recognizing this as the closest he would get to a direct answer.
"There are three stages to mastery," McDougal continued, holding up three fingers. "First, you need absolute fluency in the runic language—translation and syntax. Second, you require a profound magical foundation—a strong enough core and control to manipulate the large energy flows. Third, you must achieve a deep intuitive mastery of ancient spell theory—understanding the root geometry of magic."
McDougal paused, looking Albert over critically. "You have achieved the first step spectacularly. You are making rapid progress on the third, through your work on this book. But your magical core is still young, and your overall magical capacity is not yet strong enough to fully contain the power of the ancient runic sequences. You are close, Albert. Very close to overcoming that structural obstacle."
Albert's lips twitched slightly. He despised this kind of vague, esoteric language. You sound like a charlatan, McDougal. Just explain the exact dimensional geometry!
He knew the true answer lay not in waiting for his magical core to mature, but in simply acquiring more Experience Points and driving his Rune Skill to Level 3. The system would then grant him the "intuitive mastery" McDougal described.
A new idea suddenly occurred to Albert—a practical solution to the system's requirements. "Professor Brod, could you please provide me with a formal note or certificate?" he asked. "I require access to the Restricted Section of the library to borrow books specifically concerning Ancient Runic Spellcraft."
"A very wise move!" Professor Brod actually agreed instantly. He turned and swiftly scribbled on a fresh piece of parchment:
Mr. Albert Anderson is hereby granted permission to borrow books concerning Ancient Runic Spellcraft from the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library.
Brod the Bard
"Good luck, Albert," McDougal muttered, watching the transaction with a curious smile.
Albert took the note from Professor Brod, tucked it securely into his pocket, and hurried out of the office, his mission accomplished.
"Why didn't you just tell him the secret, Mog?" Professor Brod asked, looking at his friend with surprise.
"Tell him what? The complex sequence of emotional and magical conditioning required to activate the runic layer?" McDougal countered, shaking his head. "Haven't I told you this before? You still doubt me? Albert is a true genius. Our role is simply to provide the tools and the environment. We must trust his judgment. He will figure out the rest for himself, and when he does, he will have truly earned it."