The bell signaling the end of Transfiguration usually triggered a stampede toward the Great Hall, but as the room emptied of bleating rabbits and complaining students, two figures remained rooted to their spots.
Albert lingered by his desk, methodically tapping his finished slippers with his wand to ensure the transformation was stable. Katrina McDougal, meanwhile, was pretending to reorganize her bag with agonizing slowness, her eyes darting toward Albert every few seconds. When Albert finally slung his bag over his shoulder and approached Professor McGonagall's desk, Katrina was only half a step behind him.
Professor McGonagall looked up over her spectacles, her expression softening into that rare, subtle look of pride she reserved for the truly gifted. She wasn't surprised to see Albert. In her years at Hogwarts, she had seen many "top of the class" types, but Albert was different; he didn't just meet expectations, he treated them as a baseline.
"I suspect I know why you're here, Mr. Anderson," she said, setting aside her roll-call book. "The twelve-certificate path?"
"It seems like the logical choice," Albert replied, his tone casual, as if he were discussing the weather rather than a workload that would hospitalize a normal teenager. "I've already got a decent handle on Ancient Runes, and since I grew up in a non-magical household, Muggle Studies is essentially a free period. It would be a waste not to round out the set."
McGonagall nodded. She had heard rumors that Albert was already corresponding with experts in runic scripts. For him, the difficulty wasn't the material; it was the physics of being in two places at once.
"And you, Miss McDougal?" McGonagall asked, turning her gaze to Katrina. Her tone was kinder here, perhaps tinged with a bit of maternal concern. "I know your sister, Isabelle, is quite the trailblazer, and you certainly have the talent to follow her, but I must ask—are you choosing this path for yourself, or for the sake of the family mantle?"
Katrina stiffened, her chin lifting in a defensive tilt. "I'm doing it because I am capable, Professor. I've looked over the curriculum. I can handle it."
"Capability is one thing; endurance is another," McGonagall reminded her gently. "Albert has... certain innate advantages that mitigate the pressure. For most students, taking every elective is a recipe for a burnout that leaves them unable to pass even their core subjects. I have seen many bright witches attempt the full twelve, only to drop half of them by Christmas."
Katrina's eyes flickered toward Albert. "Advantages? You mean his Muggle background?"
"Among other things," McGonagall said cryptically. She stood up and gestured toward the door. "Come with me. We shouldn't discuss the logistics in an open classroom."
The walk to her office was silent. Once inside, surrounded by the comforting smell of old parchment and the ticking of various silver instruments, McGonagall motioned for them to sit.
"To take every course, you must overcome a physical impossibility: the timetable," she began, leaning across her desk. "There are simply not enough hours in the day for a third-year to attend five extra classes when several of them run concurrently. To solve this, the school—with the Ministry's explicit and highly regulated permission—can apply for a Time-Turner."
Katrina's breath hitched. She had clearly heard the legends, but hearing a teacher confirm them was another matter entirely.
"A Time-Turner?" Albert said, his eyes narrowing as if he were mentally dissecting the object's mechanics. "I've read about the Hour-Reversal Charm. It's supposed to be the foundational magic for such devices, isn't it? Though the literature suggests it's notoriously unstable."
McGonagall blinked, her mouth opening slightly before she snapped it shut. She looked at Albert with a mixture of exasperation and genuine alarm. "Mr. Anderson, the fact that you even know the name of that charm is... concerning. Yes, it is the basis, and yes, it is catastrophically dangerous. Which is why the devices are handled with a level of secrecy that borders on the sacred."
"I value my life, Professor," Albert said, holding her gaze with a calm, steady intensity. "I have no intention of experimenting with the fabric of time in my dormitory. I'm interested in the academic results, not in becoming a cautionary tale in a history book."
"I hope so," McGonagall said sternly. "Because the Ministry does not hand these out like sweets. They will vet your academic records, your disciplinary history—which, thanks to your roommates, is a bit colorful—and your psychological stability. If I put my name on these applications, I am personally vouching that neither of you will use these devices for anything other than your studies. No extra sleep, no cheating at games, and certainly no meddling in past events."
"I promise," Albert said immediately.
"I promise as well," Katrina echoed, though her voice was a little more strained.
"Very well. I will begin the paperwork," McGonagall said, though she didn't dismiss them yet. "But before you leave, you must understand the gravity of this. There have been instances where witches and wizards have accidentally killed their past or future selves because they didn't realize who they were looking at. The confusion can lead to madness, or worse."
"That seems a bit... impulsive," Albert remarked, leaning back in his chair. "I mean, if I saw myself walking down the corridor, my first instinct wouldn't be to draw my wand. I'd probably just assume someone had been messing around with Polyjuice Potion."
Katrina looked at him, bewildered. "You'd be that calm? You'd see a literal duplicate of yourself and just shrug it off?"
"Well, if I knew I had a Time-Turner, it would be the most logical explanation," Albert explained. "Actually, I've suspected this was the case for a while. I've seen Percy Weasley and Isabelle in two places at once more than a few times this year. Percy isn't the type to loiter, yet I'd see him entering the library and then pass him in the Great Hall thirty seconds later. The math didn't add up."
The silence in the office became heavy. McGonagall stared at Albert, a thought clearly forming in her mind: Why on earth was this boy sorted into Gryffindor? He has the logic of a Ravenclaw and the calculating nature of a Slytherin.
"Mr. Anderson," McGonagall said weakly, "the fact that you've been 'counting' Mr. Weasley's appearances is exactly why you must be careful. If you encounter yourself, you do not 'greet' them. You do not 'verify' them. You hide. You ensure you are never seen. The laws of time are not suggestions."
"I understand," Albert said, though there was a glint in his eye that suggested he was already thinking about the potential for a secret code. "I'll be the model of discretion."
"I truly hope you remember those words," McGonagall sighed. "The penalties for misuse involve more than just detention. We are talking about potential imprisonment in Azkaban for severe violations of the Time Laws. Now, go. I have a lot of letters to write to the Ministry."
As they stepped out of the office and the door clicked shut, the cool air of the corridor felt like a splash of cold water. Katrina turned to Albert, her expression a mix of awe and annoyance.
"You already knew," she accused, her voice low. "The 'Twelve Certificates,' the Time-Turners... you've been planning this since first year, haven't you?"
Albert gave her a small, enigmatic smile. "Everyone has their secrets, Katrina. Prying into them is a bit rude, don't you think? Besides, if I told everyone how I figured things out, life at Hogwarts would get very boring, very quickly."
He hadn't just chosen the courses for the grades. He wanted the device. He wanted to see if his 'System' would recognize the Time-Turner as an artifact he could learn from, or if it would unlock a new branch of skills. If he could master the Hour-Reversal Charm on his own, he wouldn't need the Ministry's permission or their laws.
"Are you calling me rude?" Katrina snapped, her face flushing. "I was just asking! You make everything feel like a game that only you know the rules to."
"Maybe it is," Albert said, checking his watch. "And speaking of games, if we don't hurry, the 'Sweet Sixteen' tournament is going to start without its organizer. Are you coming, or are you going to stand here and debate the ethics of time travel?"
Katrina glared at him, but she followed. Albert walked ahead, his mind already racing ahead to next year. A Time-Turner opened up a world of possibilities—extra study time, extra research, and perhaps, a way to be exactly where he needed to be when the Philosopher's Stone finally made its appearance. 🏰⌛✨