The stone floors of the Hogwarts corridors felt cold beneath Albert's boots, but his mind was burning with a clarity he hadn't experienced in months. He didn't run. He didn't scream for the Headmaster. Instead, he walked with a measured, rhythmic pace back toward the Gryffindor Tower, his face carefully smoothed into the vacant, pleasant expression of a boy whose soul was currently on vacation.
He needed to look the part. If Rowena Smith was watching through some dark enchantment or a hidden eye, Albert had to be the perfect puppet.
When he reached the portrait hole, the Fat Lady looked at him with a hint of concern, but he muttered the password and slipped inside without a word. The common room was a chaotic sanctuary of chocolate wrappers, half-finished essays, and the general lethargy of a holiday afternoon.
"Back already?" George called out from his armchair, where he was currently trying to balance a stack of chocolate frog cards on his nose. "I thought you were off on some grand romantic conquest. Did you forget your charm, or did she realize you're actually a giant nerd?"
Albert stopped. He didn't blink. "I just realized I left something upstairs," he said, his voice level and slightly monotone.
"Want a toffee?" Fred asked, gesturing to the remains of Percy's stolen Easter egg. "It's surprisingly sweet, considering it was flavored with our brother's tears."
"No," Albert said. He turned to face his roommates, his eyes scanning them with a strange, clinical detachment. "Actually... Fred, could you do me a favor? Lend me your wand."
The room went quiet for a second. Even Lee Jordan looked up from his pile of postcards. Borrowing a wand was a personal request, almost intimate in the wizarding world. A wand was an extension of the self; you didn't just hand it over like a spare quill.
"What's wrong with yours?" Fred asked, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion.
"I lent it to someone," Albert replied vaguely. "An unlucky fellow. He needed it more than I did for a moment. I'll be getting it back shortly."
Fred hesitated, then shrugged, pulling the polished wood from his pocket. "Don't go snapping it. This thing is the only reason I'm passing Charms."
Albert took it, gave it a half-hearted flick that produced a wilted daisy, and frowned. The wood felt resistant, like a stranger's handshake. He turned to Lee. "Let me try yours."
"Hey, watch it!" Lee protested, though he handed his wand over. "If you break it, you're buying me a custom one from Ollivander's. Gold-plated. Dragon heartstring."
"If I break it, I'll buy you the whole shop," Albert muttered. Lee's wand felt better—more pliable. It wasn't his holly and phoenix feather, but it would serve as a backup. He tucked the borrowed wand into his pocket.
"You're acting weird, Albert," Lee said, his voice dropping. "That smile... it's the one you get right before someone's life falls apart. Is someone about to have a very bad day?"
"Just going on that date," Albert lied, a predatory spark dancing in his eyes for a split second before the mask of the Imperio returned.
He marched up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the mask shattered. He moved with lightning speed. He dispelled the protective charms on his bedside cabinet and pulled out a drawer with a false bottom.
There it was: the "Gryffindor Treasure Map" he'd deciphered months ago. He stared at it for a moment. Smith wanted this? Fine. He would have it. But the map was just paper; the real treasure was the trap Albert was about to set.
He reached into his lizard-skin pouch and pulled out a small, shimmering vial of Felix Felicis. Liquid Luck. He'd been saving this for his N.E.W.T.s or a life-and-death struggle. This currently felt like both. He took a measured, tiny sip. The golden liquid burned down his throat, and suddenly, the world felt like a puzzle where every piece was glowing with the correct path. He knew exactly what to do.
As the luck settled into his veins, a series of notifications flickered in his peripheral vision. The System was reacting to the crisis.
New Tasks Detected:
Unforgivable: A Wizard used the Imperio on you. Teach them why the Ministry fears these arts. Reward: 1500 XP, [Imperio] Skill.
Solid as a Rock: Break the chains of Rowena Smith's will. Reward: 1000 XP, [Imperio Resistance +1].
Brothers in Misfortune: Help Katrina escape the thrall. Reward: 500 XP, [Katrina Affection +20], [Isabelle Affection +20].
Wrong Decision: Break the fangs of the predator. Reward: 3000 XP, [Random Skill from Rowena Smith].
"This is going to be a profitable afternoon," Albert whispered. He claimed the reward for Solid as a Rock immediately, feeling his mental barriers thicken like iron plating.
He began to arm himself. He didn't just take his wand; he took the "Banshee's Wail," a concentrated sonic device he'd been tinkering with. It was designed to incapacitate anyone within ten feet without a drop of magic. Then, he grabbed the Marauder's Map.
He tapped it with Lee's wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The ink bled across the parchment. He scanned the grounds. He saw two dots—Katrina and another student—moving toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He saw Professor Smith's dot sitting stationary in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
"The board is set," Albert said. He tucked the map away, drank another tiny sip of Luck, and walked back out.
When he re-entered the D.A.D.A. office, the air felt heavy with the smell of old parchment and dark intent. Katrina was gone. Rowena Smith sat behind her desk, her eyes fixed on the door.
Albert walked forward, his gait slightly stiff, and placed the Gryffindor map on the desk.
Smith didn't even look at the map at first. Instead, she raised her wand. "Imperio!"
The curse hit Albert like a wave of lukewarm water. To anyone else, it would have been a mental blackout. To Albert, with his new resistance and the Liquid Luck singing in his blood, it was an annoyance. He allowed his eyes to glaze over, tilting his head slightly.
"You've been very helpful, Albert," Smith said, her voice dripping with a false, maternal warmth. She reached out and snatched his protective wristband off the table—the one he'd "accidentally" left behind. "A candidate's tool. Powerful, but useless in the hands of a puppet."
She handed him a sealed envelope. "Take this to Isabelle. She's in the library. Tell her it's an urgent message from the Headmaster. Then, you will both go to the edge of the forest to meet Hagrid. Do you understand?"
"I understand," Albert droned.
He turned and left. The moment the door closed, he felt the weight of Smith's plan. She wasn't just looking for treasure; she was cleaning house. Two "brilliant" students wandering into the Forbidden Forest during a werewolf scare and never coming back? It was a perfect tragedy. The "Master" would be rid of two potential threats, and Smith would have the map to herself.
But Smith had made one fatal error. She assumed Albert was a wizard who relied on his wand.
Albert headed for the library, his mind already three steps ahead. He found Isabelle tucked away in the back, surrounded by a fortress of books. She looked up, her expression tired but sharp.
"Albert? You look... different," she said, her eyes narrowing.
Albert didn't answer. He simply handed her the letter, his face a perfect blank. In his pocket, his hand gripped the Marauder's Map. He could see Smith's dot finally moving. She was leaving her office. She was following him.
"Let the hunt begin," Albert thought, the Liquid Luck guiding his hand as he prepared to turn the Forbidden Forest into Rowena Smith's personal Azkaban. 🏰🌲🐺