Bab 287: Chapter 287: Wager
In the following days, Albert spent a lot of time in the Room of Requirement practicing the advanced Patronus Charm. However, without anyone to guide him and without the assistance of the skill panel, making his Patronus actually speak human language within a short period of time was no easy task.
Nevertheless, these days of trial and practice weren't entirely fruitless. The skill experience for the Patronus Charm was increasing rapidly. Unfortunately, the advanced Patronus Charm still didn't appear on his skill panel. Albert felt quite frustrated by this, estimating that he might need to raise his Patronus Charm skill to level three before he could more smoothly grasp the advanced techniques.
Another similarly advanced spell, the Disillusionment Charm, had been mostly mastered by Albert after he raised its skill level to two using the experience pool. He even crafted a palm-sized wooden box that, after multiple castings of the charm, permanently expanded to a size capable of holding Albert's small trunk.
Albert placed various items inside the box and then put the box into the dragonhide bag Hagrid had given him. It was like having a shrunken version of a storage space with him.
Hagrid's wallet was indeed very useful; it was not only anti-theft and discreet but also eliminated any worry of being questioned by the Ministry of Magic.
After all, a bag subjected to the Disillusionment Charm couldn't be used openly.
In addition to practicing the Patronus Charm, Albert also spent time learning how to sew gloves.
Madam Malkin from Diagon Alley had replied to his inquiry with a politely worded refusal to custom-make gloves for him. Albert wasn't surprised by this; he'd probably do the same if he were in her shoes.
The reason, of course, was the hassle involved.
Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was always doing well in business, so there was no need for her to spend time and effort on such an order.
Though Albert had some doubts about whether her shop's business remained booming after the start of the school year—after all, clothing wasn't a disposable item, and the wizarding world wasn't that large—he had to accept her refusal.
Now he had no choice but to learn to sew on his own. Fortunately, Albert had decent hands-on skills. After several attempts using the shabby robes from the Room of Requirement, he managed to pick up the sewing skill and raised it to level 1. He barely managed to create a rudimentary cloth glove that couldn't even be worn.
After ruining more than a dozen gloves in the process, Albert finally crafted a decent template for himself to wear. However, by then, it was already mid-February.
The Quidditch match was approaching, and students were fervently discussing the outcome.
As the match drew near, Charlie's demands on the players became even stricter, making the practices less enjoyable. Fortunately, Albert had already claimed he had other matters to attend to and managed to escape the ordeal. After training sessions, Fred and George would often shoot him resentful glances.
"Don't worry, I'll be there to cheer you on during the match!" Albert patted Fred on the shoulder, offering reassurance.
"I think if Albert were to join the match, our chances of beating Slytherin would increase by at least thirty percent," Fred retorted with a hint of bitterness. Charlie's training was taking a toll on him.
"You're giving me too much credit."
"Actually, if Albert just said Slytherin would definitely lose, our success rate would increase by at least fifty percent," George added slyly.
However, Albert had already expressed his skepticism about Gryffindor's chances against Slytherin quite a while ago, so the twins' enthusiasm remained rather low.
"Is anyone organizing bets?" Lee Jordan suddenly chimed in.
"Traitor!" Fred and George glared at Lee Jordan simultaneously, knowing exactly what he was up to.
"We're in too."
"We could earn some money together."
"Do you guys want to throw the match?" Albert was at a loss for words.
"We'll definitely give it our all, but since failure is likely, we wouldn't mind finding some consolation elsewhere. At the very least, it's another form of victory."
What about your integrity?
Albert suddenly felt like facepalming. If even the players themselves lacked confidence, how could the team possibly win the match?
"Guys, if you're interested in placing bets..." a senior from the neighboring table interjected, offering his services.
Albert looked up and recognized the person. His name was Kenneth Toole, one of the black-market traders at Hogwarts.
Back then, when Albert was selling the swelling solution, Kenneth Toole had lent a hand.
"If I find out you're gambling, I'll tell Mum!" Percy glared fiercely at his younger brothers. "And if Charlie finds out you're trying to bet on Gryffindor losing, he'll be devastated."
"It's not our fault; Albert said the chances of us winning aren't high," Fred and George chimed in quickly.
"Yeah, that's right!"
Fred and George promptly shifted the blame onto Albert.
"Cough, Percy, don't be such a buzzkill," Kenneth Toole complained, clearing his throat. "It's just a small bet, a form of entertainment."
Percy paid no attention to Kenneth Toole's words and walked away in large strides, presumably to find Charlie.
Seeing Percy leave, Kenneth Toole shrugged it off. He turned his head and looked at Albert again, whispering, "Last time, the swelling solution you gave me was good."
"If you have something to say, say it."
"I heard you have a bottle of Babbling Beverage. How about selling it to me?" Kenneth Toole licked his lips, eyeing Albert as if he were a delectable treat.
"How much are you offering?" Albert asked curiously.
"I remember you said ten Galleons last time. I'll give you twelve, how about that?"
"Not selling."
"Why?"
"That's the prize for the winner of the Wizard's Chess match."
"Oh, I see." Kenneth Toole sounded slightly disappointed. He continued, "Where did you get that stuff from?"
"Dagworth-Granger gave it to me."
"Mr. Dagworth-Granger?" Kenneth Toole blinked in disbelief, wide-eyed. "The master potion-maker Dagworth-Granger?"
"Yes."
"You actually know him!" Kenneth Toole replied with a mix of disbelief and partial belief.
"I'm not surprised. Albert knows a lot of famous wizards in the magical world," Fred whispered quietly.
"Impressive." Kenneth Toole nodded noncommittally and asked in a hushed voice, "Could you get more Babbling Beverage?"
"Is it in high demand?"
"Of course. You should know, Hogwarts exams check for cheating. Dragon Claw Powder and the Intelligence Potion are easy to detect. Even Felix Felicis isn't always reliable. But Babbling Beverage and the Rune-Snake Egg are exceptions. While they are both banned items, ordinary students can't get their hands on them. Naturally, the invigilating professors… Anyway, many wizards who want to score well on their exams are willing to empty their pockets for them."
"What's going on?" As Kenneth Toole was explaining, Lee Jordan suddenly spoke up, poking Fred and George's ribs with his elbow.
"Over there..."
"Where?" Fred followed Lee Jordan's gaze, confused. He soon saw a furious Charlie heading their way.
The twins quickly straightened up, wanting to make a hasty escape, but it was already too late. Charlie arrived behind them, placing his hands on their shoulders.
"I heard from Percy..." Charlie's face was about to drip with water, his expression dark. "Are you planning to bet on Gryffindor losing the match?"
Fred and George's faces froze, and in their minds, they cursed Percy an unknown number of times.
They turned their heads stiffly and tried to justify themselves, "That's not true. We don't even have a single Galleon in our pockets. What are we supposed to use to place bets!"
*Vote Stones Plz*
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(End of this chapter)
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