Not long after Albert opened the window, Shera flew over and landed on the table. It seemed the owl had no intention of flying to Hogwarts on its own and wanted to hitch a ride instead.
"What a clever little fellow." Albert stroked the screech owl's head, took out some owl treats from his trunk, and poured a portion for Shera.
"Right, photographs. Almost forgot about that." Albert grabbed his camera and headed back to the platform to take a few close-ups of the Hogwarts Express.
Unfortunately, his photography skills were truly nothing to write home about, and the resulting pictures were mediocre at best.
Luckily, Luke had probably anticipated this situation and had provided him with plenty of film rolls.
"This one's not bad." Albert picked out a photo featuring the train's engine, nodded with satisfaction, and returned to his compartment.
He sat down by the window, gazing half-obscured through the glass at the platform. After a while, the passengers on the platform gradually increased, and to top it off, a light drizzle even began to fall from the sky.
"I feel like it rains every single time I go to Hogwarts." Albert couldn't help muttering a complaint, feeling that coming early was the right choice.
The wizards on the platform were all holding umbrellas, hurrying to say goodbye to their families amidst the curtain of rain, looking rather bedraggled.
I wonder how many familiar faces I'll run into?
Albert wasn't expecting to encounter the main characters right away. He was entering Hogwarts even earlier than Harry Potter, meaning he should be in the same year as the Weasley twins and Cedric Diggory.
And it was a relief not to be in the same year as The Boy Who Lived; Albert had zero desire to get too entangled with Potter.
After all, that was The Boy Who Lived, naturally born with both the protagonist halo and the death-seeking halo combined. If an ordinary person got caught in the crossfire without a luck halo to protect them, they'd likely kick the bucket before long. Cedric Diggory was a prime example of that.
The rain outside grew heavier, so Albert narrowed the gap in the window. Once Shera was full, she began to doze off—owls were nocturnal creatures after all.
Pulling a chocolate candy from his pocket, he unwrapped it, popped it into his mouth, and listened to the sound of the rain outside. Albert was in a good mood.
As long as he wasn't the one getting drenched in the downpour, he didn't dislike the rain.
The corridor outside the compartment gradually grew lively, but with Albert's compartment door closed, the noise from the hallway didn't bother him much.
He opened *Dark Arts: A Self-Defense Guide* and slowly thumbed through it, passing the trivial bits of time with reading. Albert had read this book more than once, and he had already tried out several of the spells inside.
In fact, throughout the entire summer vacation, Albert had experimented with every piece of magic he knew, except for the Unforgivable Curse. He had even tried the Patronus Charm, though naturally, it hadn't succeeded.
"Hurry, hurry, hurry! The train is about to leave!"
On the platform, a group of people caught Albert's attention. A family was hurriedly saying their goodbyes, among them a pair of red-haired twin brothers.
"Is that the Weasley family?" Albert sized up these celebrities, finding the scene rather comical. Ron Weasley, in particular, still looked a bit foolish at the moment. Standing next to Ron was a young girl who must have been Ginny; she was clinging tightly to Mrs. Weasley, looking as though she felt quite sad about not being able to go to Hogwarts.
Albert compared Ginny to his own younger sister and concluded—yep, his own sister was definitely cuter.
The Weasleys looked a bit rushed, probably delayed by something before arriving at the station.
Albert withdrew his gaze because someone was knocking on the door.
A black lad was standing outside the compartment door.
***
### Chapter 14: Making a Bundle
"Is anyone sitting here?" The African-American boy pointed to the seat opposite Albert and asked.
"No one. Have a seat," Albert said with a smile. "I'm Albert Anderson."
"Lee Jordan." The black teenager flashed a row of white teeth, looked in surprise at the book on the table, and said earnestly, "I have a feeling you'll end up in Ravenclaw. I've heard that books... people who like reading mostly get sorted into Ravenclaw."
"As long as I don't get into Slytherin, I don't really care about the rest," Albert said, pulling a few chocolate-flavored candies from his pocket. "Do you want some candy?"
"Thanks, tastes good." Lee Jordan took one, unwrapped it, and tossed it into his mouth. "I like chocolate flavor."
"Good to hear. Help yourself to whatever you like." Albert placed various flavors of hard candy on the table. Sharing food was an effective way to shorten the distance between people.
It was a trick he had used back at school with unfailing success.
"I think I should go to Gryffindor. I heard it's the best house, and Headmaster Dumbledore came from Gryffindor. You know, he's the greatest wizard of all time." Lee Jordan was quite talkative, keeping right on chattering even with candy in his mouth.
However, his rambling was soon interrupted.
A pair of red-haired twins were knocking on the door.
"Do you mind squeezing another person in?" one of the twins said with feigned shyness. "We're late, all the other compartments are packed, and the girls don't welcome us."
Before Albert could reply, the other twin chimed in, "I'm George, George Weasley."
"If I were you, I'd find a way to dry the water off myself," Lee Jordan reminded them kindly. "I'm Lee Jordan."
"Albert Anderson." Albert closed his book, put it back into his trunk, and pointed to the seat next to Lee Jordan.
"See you in a bit, George." The other twin turned and left.
In fact, the other twin returned very quickly, bringing his own trunk along with him.
A train compartment naturally had room for four people, especially since these were originally six-person seats.
However, some students liked to share a compartment with their friends, and even if there were empty seats, they wouldn't welcome outsiders inside. This was why the late Weasley twins hadn't been able to find a compartment.
"This is Fred, my twin brother," George introduced.
"Even if you didn't say it, we could tell," Lee Jordan said. "I literally can't tell which of you is which. Maybe you ought to give yourselves some kind of mark to tell you apart."
"Want some candy?" Albert asked again.
"Oh, thanks, Mum always hates us eating too much of this stuff." The twins each took one, unwrapped the paper, and popped them into their mouths.
"Really good flavor."
"Is that your owl? It's gorgeous." One of the twins reached out to stroke it, but after receiving a fierce glare from Shera, he quickly gave up—he had no desire to be pecked.
"She doesn't much care for strangers," Albert explained casually. "Though you could try feeding her a nut, and maybe she'd let you pet her."
Lee Jordan gave it a try, but without success. Shera completely ignored him and continued to close her eyes to rest.
The train started, slowly accelerating forward and pulling away from the platform.
"What's the wizarding world like?" Albert casually picked a topic of conversation. "You both come from the wizarding world, right?"
"How'd you know?" Lee Jordan was quite surprised.
"Your clothes. Your style of dressing clearly isn't quite right," Albert pointed at their outfits and said, "Normal people don't dress like that. Obviously, only wizards wouldn't know the difference, just like how we don't understand wizards in the wizarding world."
"Impressive." Lee Jordan gave a thumbs-up and said, "By the way, looks like there's something on the window."
Albert turned his head and saw an owl by the window, quickly pulling the glass open to let it in.
It was a gray owl. Once inside, it shook its body, spraying raindrops everywhere.
Shera let out an aggrieved hoot, leaped onto Albert's shoulder, and glared fiercely at the uninvited guest, highly displeased that her nuts had been stolen.
"Don't be mad, it's just a few nuts. I'll buy you some more once you finish them," Albert soothed, watching the owl fly away and stroking Shera's head.
"I keep feeling like you're not a Muggle-born wizard at all," Lee Jordan muttered in a low voice. "Muggle-borns wouldn't know about this. Can I take a look?"
"Be my guest." Albert lifted Shera down from his shoulder; he didn't really fancy having an owl perched there—the little creature had some weight to it.
"Any news?"
"Minister for Magic Millicent Bagnold announced she's retiring after 1990." Lee Jordan spread the newspaper across the table and said, "Word outside is that Headmaster Dumbledore's very likely to become the next Minister."
"My dad says if Headmaster Dumbledore wanted the job, he'd have become Minister for Magic ages ago." Fred clearly didn't believe it.
"Who do you think has a better shot?" George countered. "Oh, the Daily Prophet is running a guessing game contest."
"No idea, but I'm sort of interested in the contest on here." Albert naturally knew who the next Minister would be. "If I want to join the sweepstakes, how do I go about it?"
Since someone was practically handing out Galleons, why turn it down?
"Gambling isn't a good idea, Albert," Lee Jordan said earnestly.
"A small wager is fine." Albert took out his wand, placed it vertically on the table, let it fall over to one side on its own, and casually explained, "Ollivander said my wand brings me luck, so I'm going to choose... well, Cornelius Fudge. I'm picking him to be the next Minister for Magic, provided this betting pool is legitimate."
The three boys in the compartment stared at him in utter astonishment. What kind of flashy move was that? It completely blew their minds.
"You're actually going to enter the contest?" Fred swallowed hard, thinking the whole thing was absurd.
"I haven't decided yet, seeing as I don't know much about the wizarding world." Albert didn't want to throw his pocket money down the drain either.
"No, the sweepstakes run by the Daily Prophet are pretty reliable; lots of people have won in the past. But there are a full fifteen wizards being favored, are you really going to—" George pointed out, "Fudge's odds are 4 to 1. He's not even close to being the favorite."
"Of course, the favorite usually doesn't win. That's normally just some unlucky sap thrown out there as a sacrifice—err, to draw attention." Albert pulled the newspaper over, carefully studied the instructions for entering the contest, took a quill from his trunk, and wrote his name on a piece of parchment. He selected his contest pick and bet amount, then pulled out his Galleons, counting out 25 of them into a coin pouch.
Seeing Albert count out 25 Galleons, all three of them couldn't help swallowing hard. That was a huge sum of money.
Good grief, this guy was loaded. It filled the three of them with immense envy; when had they ever laid hands on so many Galleons? If they could just have a single Galleon in their own pockets, it would make them grin for days.
Not until Shera vanished into the rainstorm clutching the money pouch and envelope did the three of them snap out of their daze.
***
### Chapter 15: Wizards Have Weird Tastes
"You... you actually bet?" George Weasley swallowed hard. "That's 25 Galleons! What if... what if..."
He never dared to say the words "you guessed wrong," terrified that speaking them would make it happen.
"I trust my luck and intuition," Albert said calmly. "You guys should try it too. If you happen to guess right, you could make a tidy sum."
"We don't have the money," the twins said, shaking their heads repeatedly after exchanging glances. The Weasley family was relatively poor, and even if the twins had a bit of savings, they wouldn't waste it on a sweepstakes.
"Don't look at me, I want to save some money to buy other things," Lee Jordan shook his head over and over. He just thought Albert's behavior was crazy; if he really had that much money, he would never use it this way.
Amidst their conversation, the train had chugged out of London, speeding past meadows and fields.
Albert, meanwhile, flipped through the newspaper while listening to the three of them chat idly about Quidditch. On this subject, he couldn't chime in at all; even if he knew the rules, he had to pretend he didn't.
After all, Albert came from the Muggle world, so logically, he couldn't possibly know these things about Quidditch.
"Say, did you guys hear about Gabriel Truman's affair?" George suddenly brought up something from a short while ago.
"Nott almost got expelled by the Ministry," Fred lowered his voice to say. "Later on, he went and apologized to Gabriel Truman in person, and that was the end of it."
"I heard about it too. But Mum says Rita Skeeter's articles can't be trusted," Lee Jordan said. "That woman loves to blow facts out of proportion."
"Most newspapers are like that, but the content always needs a grain of truth," Albert said, closing the newspaper. As one of the masterminds behind the whole thing, he naturally knew what had happened.
"I went to Truman's compartment earlier and heard him talking about it with someone else, saying that during the summer vacation he ran into a first-year Hogwarts student practicing magic, and then out of nowhere he received a letter saying he was expelled from Hogwarts," Fred blurted out. "At the time, Dumbledore and a Ministry official came knocking, and the Ministry official had a terrible attitude without even offering an apology, so he—"
Hearing this, Albert raised an eyebrow. He could only say that Westerners were rather flamboyant; he had warned Truman to keep it a secret, but clearly, the boy had forgotten. Still, at least he hadn't blabbed about *his* involvement.
Albert's soul was Eastern at heart; his inherent modesty and subtlety hadn't vanished, and he didn't like drawing attention to himself.
"By the way, do you guys know how the school sorts us?" Albert changed the subject.
"No idea, my family won't tell me," Lee Jordan shook his head.
"Percy says we have to go through some kind of test," George said with mild annoyance. "They never want to tell us; they think it's funny."
"What's life as a wizard like? Is it really interesting?" Albert thought for a moment and added, "When I first got my letter, everyone was shocked. My mother wasn't even very welcoming to Professor McGonagall; she was worried I wouldn't find a job after graduating."
"That won't happen. Both my older brothers graduated," the twins chorused.
"Bill works in Africa for Gringotts."
"Charlie is in Romania studying dragons."
"And your father?" Albert asked, knowing the answer full well.
"He works at the Ministry of Magic," the twins said in unison, looking at each other.
"I reckon when I graduate, I'll probably stay in the Muggle world."
"Why?" the three asked, perplexed. In their view, staying in the wizarding world was a given.
"I'm coming to Hogwarts mainly to study magic, to master how to use it. Professor McGonagall said that if you don't learn magic, it might lead to magic running out of control later on."
"But in the Muggle world, we aren't allowed to use magic casually, and we can't let Muggles know magic exists either, otherwise we'll bring trouble upon ourselves."
"Right, what do you guys want to do in the future?"
"I don't want to work at the Ministry of Magic."
"Me neither." The twins looked at each other and couldn't help laughing.
"Being a Quidditch player wouldn't be bad. Charlie was a Quidditch Captain, and I reckon I'm a pretty good flyer. Too bad you can't join Quidditch until second year," George said regretfully.
"I haven't thought about it yet," said Lee Jordan.
"What about you?" All three looked at Albert.
"Me? Find a job that's simple, relaxed, and easy to make money at."
"Is there really a job like that?" The three couldn't help exchanging glances once more. If such a job existed, they wanted it too!
"There should be. I'm looking for it," Albert said with a smile. He was quite curious about when the twins would come up with the idea of opening a joke shop.
"If you find one, remember to tell me," Lee Jordan said, giving Albert a deadpan pat on the shoulder before bursting into laughter.
"You guys don't mind if I take a picture of you, do you?" Albert took out his camera.
"A picture?"
"Yeah, my family wants to know about the wizarding world." Albert had the three of them sit together and snapped a few shots with the camera.
"Why doesn't the photo move?" Lee Jordan reached out and poked the photograph, presumably expecting them to come alive.
"Muggle photos don't move," Albert explained, taking the picture to glance at it with general satisfaction. "Looks like my skills are improving."
"What's the point of a photo that doesn't move?" The three quickly lost interest in the picture.
Near noon, a commotion came from the train corridor.
A moment later, a witch pushed open the compartment door and poked her head in to ask, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"
"I'll have a box of Every Flavor Beans," said Lee Jordan, who had brought his own food. The twins had brought sandwiches too, but they didn't have much money, so they hadn't bought anything.
"I'll take some of everything," Albert told the kind-smelling witch.
Having just witnessed Albert's reckless gambling, the three of them were already growing numb to his big-spending ways.
For this haul, Albert shelled out a Galleon, buying the whole pile of treats sitting on the table.
"I bet your family is loaded," Lee Jordan muttered.
"Not necessarily loaded," Albert opened the Every Flavor Beans, popped one into his mouth, and found it tasted like sprout. "They're lawyers."
"What's that?" None of the three knew anything about Muggles.
"People who argue court cases for others—or as you might put it, people who legally exploit loopholes in the law," Albert thought for a moment and explained.
"Legally exploit loopholes in the law?" The three were slightly baffled upon hearing this. What did "legally exploiting loopholes in the law" even mean? You could exploit legal loopholes *legally*?
What kind of mind-boggling maneuver was that?
"Give me a rundown. What are all these foods?" Albert made a welcoming gesture; he didn't want to bite into anything bizarre—wizards had rather weird tastes. Besides, this was an opportunity. Friendship, when you stripped it down, still needed to be cultivated and maintained.
***
### Chapter 16: A Generational Gap
"These are called Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans." Lee Jordan shook his own box and handed it toward the three of them. "They've got every flavor under the sun inside. Try one."
"You have to be careful eating these," George warned. "He said 'every flavor,' which you know means *every* flavor."
"Not just normal flavors like chocolate, peppermint, and marmalade, but you can also get spinach, liver, and tripe. Oh, and watch out for earwax flavor." Fred reached in, grabbed one, and tossed it into his mouth. "This one's pumpkin flavor."
"What flavor is this one?" Albert picked up a gray bean and asked.
"Pepper flavor. If I were you, I wouldn't touch it," George advised kindly. "Mine's chicken flavor."
"What about this?" Albert picked up something that looked like chewing gum.
"That's Droobles Best Blowing Gum."
"I know this one—Chocolate Frog. I had one last time."