"Actually, I think your logic has a bit of a hole in it," Katrina interjected, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet landing outside the Ravenclaw door. She was looking at Albert with a triumphant glint in her eyes.
"You said 'Are you dead?' is an answer you can never say 'yes' to. But if you asked a ghost that question, they'd probably give you a very annoyed 'Yes, obviously.' They might even find the question offensive."
Albert stood there for a second, his mouth slightly agape as he processed her point. He blinked, a look of genuine realization washing over his face.
Katrina was absolutely right. In the Muggle world, being dead was a fairly binary, final state that precluded conversation. But here? Here, death was just a change in status. Being a ghost meant you were very much dead, yet perfectly capable of confirming the fact over a cup of transparent tea.
"You've got me there," Albert admitted, letting out a short, self-deprecating laugh. He didn't bother trying to wiggle out of it with semantic gymnastics. "I fell right into the trap of habitual thinking. I forgot that in this castle, the deceased are quite active members of the community. Good catch, Katrina. One-zero to you."
Katrina had expected him to put up a fight—Albert usually had an answer for everything—so seeing him concede so gracefully caught her off guard. She felt a small swell of pride. It wasn't often someone managed to out-logic Albert Anderson.
"If you two are quite finished debating the conversational habits of the dead," Isabelle said, her voice smooth and calm, "we should probably get started. If Katrina is fast enough, we might actually make it down to the pitch before the game ends."
Today's match was a high-stakes face-off between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. By all rights, the three of them should have been down there in the freezing rain, cheering for their respective houses. Instead, they were huddled in a drafty tower, preparing for a battle of wits that most students would find exhausting.
"I'm in no rush to get back into that downpour," Albert said, glancing toward a window where the rain was still slashing against the glass. "Besides, do you two actually enjoy Quidditch that much? Or is it just a social obligation?"
Katrina looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Is it really appropriate for you to be asking that? You're the hero of Gryffindor. You're the guy who single-handedly humiliated the Slytherin team last year and basically handed your house the Cup on a silver platter. People talk about that game like it was a legend."
"It was a means to an end," Albert shrugged. "The sport is fine, but the conditions are miserable."
"So that's the real reason you're just a reserve seeker this year?" Katrina smirked, crossing her arms. "The great Albert Anderson is afraid of a little mud and hard work? I heard the training sessions are brutal, rain or shine. I suppose it's easier to hide in the library than to get your robes dirty."
Albert didn't take the bait. He knew exactly how much effort went into being a Seeker, and he had decided his time was better spent elsewhere. "Let's just say I prefer my challenges to be more... cerebral. Shall we begin?"
Isabelle nodded and reached out, tapping the bronze eagle once more.
The eagle's eyes flickered, and it spoke in that same haunting, musical tone: "What animal walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?"
Albert couldn't help but groan. "Seriously? The Sphinx's riddle? I expected something a bit more... original from the Rowena Ravenclaw heritage. This one is practically a cliché."
"The answer is a human," Katrina said immediately, ignoring Albert's commentary. She wasn't here to critique the questions; she was here to win ten Galleons.
The door remained closed, but the eagle didn't object. "Correct," it murmured.
"The eagle ring has its own personality, you know," Isabelle explained, leaning against the stone wall. She watched Albert as he pulled a small bag of lemon drops from his pocket. "It's not just a recorded message. It's an enchanted object with a level of consciousness not unlike the Sorting Hat. It collects knowledge. Over the centuries, the various Deans of Ravenclaw have contributed new riddles to its repertoire to keep things fresh."
Albert popped a candy into his mouth, the sour-sweet flavor sparking his senses. "How do you know all that? I haven't seen that in any of the standard histories."
"I spend a lot of time in the restricted section," Isabelle replied, peeling the wrapper of the candy Albert handed her. "And some records are kept within the house itself. You'd be surprised what people write down when they're bored."
"eagle ring, next one please," Katrina urged. She was focused, her competitive streak fully engaged.
"Want one?" Albert offered the bag to Katrina.
"Are you trying to rot my teeth so I can't speak the answers?" she asked suspiciously.
"I brush twice a day and use a specialized cleaning charm," Albert said with mock seriousness. "Besides, glucose is fuel for the brain. It helps you think faster. If you want to stay sharp for the next ninety-eight questions, you should take one. If not, more for me."
Katrina snatched a blue-wrapped candy—raspberry—and was about to unwrap it when the eagle spoke again.
"Where are the departed?"
"In memories," Albert blurted out instantly.
There was a long silence from the bronze bird. Then: "That is a truth."
"Hey!" Katrina rounded on him, her face reddening. "What are you doing? Are you trying to sabotage me? This is my bet, Albert! If you keep stealing the questions, I'll never reach a hundred. Just say it if you don't want to pay up."
Albert held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "My apologies. Force of habit. My brain just reacts to a puzzle before I can stop my mouth. I promise, I'll stay silent until you're stumped."
"You'd better," she grumbled, though she couldn't help but notice that Albert's answer had been accepted almost immediately.
For the next hour, Albert kept his word. He stood back, leaning against the cold stone, and watched Katrina work. He was genuinely impressed. The riddles weren't easy—they ranged from complex wordplay and English letter-guessing games to deep philosophical inquiries about the nature of time and fire. Some were logic puzzles that required a firm grasp of arithmetic, while others were metaphorical.
Katrina was a natural. Even when she hit a snag, she didn't panic. She would close her eyes, tilt her head, and talk her way through the logic until the answer clicked. Albert found himself mentally recording every question and every response. His memory was sharp, but this was a goldmine. He realized that by the end of this session, he would have a comprehensive map of the Ravenclaw security system's logic.
Finally, the eagle posed the hundredth riddle: "What is the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, the beginning of every end, and the end of every place?"
Katrina took a deep breath. She didn't even look at Albert. "The letter 'E'."
The door vibrated slightly, and the eagle bowed its head. "Correct. You have shown a consistent mind."
"I did it!" Katrina exhaled, her shoulders dropping as the tension left her body. She turned to Albert with a triumphant grin. "One hundred questions, Albert. I won. Cleanly and fairly."
"Congratulations," Albert said, clapping softly. "That was an impressive display. I suspect you've set a record for the fastest hundred in a single sitting."
"Actually, she answered about a hundred and twelve," Isabelle noted, checking a small piece of parchment she'd been using to keep track. "A few were repeats, but you handled the new ones perfectly."
"The stakes, if you please," Katrina said, holding out her hand, palm up.
Albert didn't hesitate. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch. He counted out ten gleaming gold Galleons, the metal clinking musically as he dropped them into her hand one by one.
"Ten Galleons, as promised," Albert said. "A fair price for the entertainment."
"You're actually going to leave now?" Katrina asked, staring at the small fortune in her palm. "You're not even going to come inside for a bit? Or head down to the pitch?"
"I have a few other things to attend to," Albert replied, checking his watch. "And I think I've had enough riddles for one Saturday. See you both later." He turned and headed back down the spiral stairs, his footsteps fading into the distance.
Katrina watched him go, a look of profound confusion on her face. "Isabelle... why did he do that? I mean, really? He just gave me ten Galleons to watch me answer questions. It doesn't make sense. He's not the type to just throw money away."
Isabelle walked to the window, watching the rain. "In Albert's world, everything has a value. You think the ten Galleons were the price of the bet. I think the ten Galleons were the price of the entry pass."
"What do you mean?"
"He just spent an hour listening to a hundred consecutive Ravenclaw riddles," Isabelle said quietly. "He now understands the patterns, the themes, and the logic of the eagle ring better than most Ravenclaws do. In his eyes, that information is worth much more than ten Galleons. He just bought his way into our house whenever he wants, and he made you feel like you were the one who won."
Katrina's eyes widened. "What a strange, terrifying person. He's... he's playing a completely different game, isn't he?"
"Probably," Isabelle said, turning away from the window. "But for ten Galleons, I suppose we can let him have his secrets. Come on, let's go see if Gryffindor has crashed into the ground yet."
As they walked down toward the grounds, Katrina couldn't help but bring up the other thing on her mind. "So... the rumors. People are saying you and Albert are a 'thing.' Seeing how he acts with you... is it true?"
Isabelle didn't stop walking. Her expression remained neutral, the classic Ravenclaw mask of indifference. "Ninety-nine percent of Hogwarts rumors are recycled garbage, Katrina. You should know that by now."
"That's not a 'no'," Katrina pointed out.
"We are friends," Isabelle said, her voice softening just a fraction. "And in this school, geniuses are a rare breed. It's only natural for us to gravitate toward each other. Anything beyond that is just people with too much time on their hands and not enough homework."
Katrina nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced. Albert Anderson was a mystery wrapped in a riddle, and it seemed Isabelle MacDougal was the only one who had the key to the door.