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Chapter 14: Making a Quick Buck
Chapter 14: Making a Quick Buck
"Is anyone sitting here?" asked a black boy, pointing to the seat across from Albert.
"No, go ahead," Albert replied with a smile. "I'm Albert Anderson."
"LeBron James," the black youth replied, revealing a mouthful of white teeth. He eyed the book on the table curiously before adding earnestly, "I have a feeling you'll be sorted into Ravenclaw. I hear that most people who like to read books end up in that house."
"As long as it's not Slytherin, I don't mind," Albert said, pulling out a few chocolate-flavored candies from his pocket. "Would you like some candy?"
"Thanks, these are good." LeBron took one, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. "I like the chocolate ones."
"Great, help yourself," Albert said, placing candies of various flavors on the table. Sharing food was an effective way to break the ice.
This tactic had never failed him back in his old school.
"I think I should be in Gryffindor," LeBron continued, undeterred. "I hear it's the best house, and Headmaster Dumbledore is from Gryffindor. You know, he's the greatest wizard of all time."
However, his monologue was soon interrupted by a pair of red-haired twins knocking on the door.
"Do you mind if we squeeze in here?" one of the twins asked, feigning shyness. "We're late, and all the other compartments are full. The girls aren't too keen on having us around."
Before Albert could respond, the other twin spoke up. "I'm George. George Weasley."
"If I were you, I'd try to dry off a bit," LeBron suggested amicably. "I'm LeBron James."
"Albert Anderson," Albert said, closing his book and placing it back into his trunk. He gestured to the seat next to LeBron.
"See you later, George," the other twin said as he turned to leave.
In fact, the other twin soon returned with his trunk in tow.
The train compartment could naturally accommodate four people, as it was originally designed for six.
However, some students preferred to share a compartment with their friends, and even if there were empty seats, they might not welcome others to join them. This was why the late Weasley twins had been unable to find a compartment.
"This is Fred, my twin brother," George introduced.
"We could've figured that out without you telling us," LeBron remarked. "I can't tell you apart at all. Maybe you should get some sort of mark to differentiate yourselves."
"Would you like some candy?" Albert asked again.
"Oh, thanks, but Mum doesn't like us eating too much of this stuff," the twins said in unison, each taking a candy and unwrapping it before popping it into their mouths.
"These are delicious," they exclaimed together.
"That's a beautiful owl you have there," one of the twins commented, reaching out to pet it, only to be met with a fierce glare from Shelah, causing him to quickly retract his hand. He certainly didn't want to be pecked.
"She's not too fond of strangers," Albert explained casually. "But if you try feeding her some nuts, she might let you pet her."
LeBron gave it a try, but to no avail. Shelah completely ignored him and continued to rest with her eyes closed.
The train began to move, slowly accelerating forward and pulling out of the station.
"So, what's the magical world like?" Albert asked, bringing up a random topic. "You're all from the magical world, right?"
"How did you know?" LeBron asked, surprised.
Albert pointed to their clothes. "Your outfits are a dead giveaway. Muggles don't dress like that. Only wizards would be clueless about these things, just like we're clueless about the wizarding world."
"Impressive," LeBron said, giving him a thumbs-up. "By the way, there's something at the window."
Albert turned his head and spotted an owl at the window. He quickly opened it to let the owl in.
The gray owl shook its body, sending droplets of water flying in all directions.
Shelah let out an annoyed hoot and jumped onto Albert's shoulder, glaring at the uninvited guest who had dared to steal her nuts.
"Don't be mad, it's just some nuts," Albert said, stroking Shelah's head comfortingly as he watched the departing owl. "I'll buy you more when these are gone."
"You don't seem like a typical Muggle-born wizard," LeBron whispered. "Muggle-born wizards don't know about this, can I take a look?"
"Be my guest," Albert said, taking Shelah off his shoulder. He didn't particularly like having the owl perched there; she was a bit heavy.
"Any news?"
"Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold has announced her retirement after 1990," LeBron said, spreading the newspaper out on the table. "There are rumors that Headmaster Dumbledore is likely to become the next Minister."
"My dad says that if Dumbledore wanted to, he could've been Minister of Magic a long time ago," Fred interjected, clearly skeptical.
"Who do you think has a better chance?" George countered. "Oh, the Daily Prophet is holding a guessing game."
"I don't know," Albert said, feigning ignorance, even though he knew exactly who would become the next Minister. "If I wanted to join this guessing game, what would I need to do?"
When someone offers you Galleons, why refuse?
"Gambling isn't a good idea, Albert," LeBron said seriously.
"A small bet is fine," Albert said, taking out his wand and placing it vertically on the table, allowing it to tilt to one side. "Ollivander said my wand would bring me luck, so I'm thinking of choosing...hmm, Cornelius Fudge. I choose him to be the next Minister of Magic, assuming this bet is trustworthy."
The three boys in the compartment were left stunned by this brazen display, wondering what sort of trickery Albert was employing.
"Are you really going to join the guessing game?" Fred asked, swallowing hard. He found the whole thing absurd.
"I haven't decided yet," Albert said, not wanting to risk wasting his spending money. "But since the Daily Prophet is organizing it, I suppose it's reliable. Quite a few people have won prizes in the past. However, there are fifteen wizards who are considered strong contenders. Are you sure you want to..." George pointed out, "Fudge's odds are 4 to 1, not the favorite."
"Of course," Albert said, "the favorite usually doesn't win. They're usually the sacrificial lamb, er, the unlucky ones used to attract attention." Albert took the newspaper, carefully studied the rules of the competition, then took out a quill from his trunk and wrote his name on a piece of parchment, selecting his contestant and the amount of his bet. He then took out some Galleons and counted out 25 Galleons, placing them into a pouch.
The sight of Albert counting out 25 Galleons made the three boys swallow their saliva. That was a small fortune.
This guy is loaded, they thought enviously. When was the last time they had held even a single Galleon in their pockets? If they had just one, they would be laughing for days.
They remained dazed until Shelah disappeared into the rain with the pouch and envelope in her claws.
(End of Chapter)
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