Chapter 287: A Gamble
Chapter 287: A Gamble
Over the next few days, Albert spent a significant amount of time in the Room of Requirement, practicing the advanced Guardian Charm. However, without anyone to guide him or the help of the system interface, it proved challenging to make the guardian speak in a short period.
Nonetheless, his efforts and practice over these days were not entirely fruitless. The skill experience for the Guardian Charm was increasing rapidly. Unfortunately, the advanced version of the charm still did not appear on his skills panel, leaving Albert frustrated. He estimated that he would need to upgrade the Guardian Charm skill to level three before he could more smoothly master the advanced incantation.
Another equally profound spell, the Trace-less Expansion Charm, was directly upgraded by Albert using his experience pool to level two, and he had already gained a good grasp of it. He also created a wooden box the size of a palm, whose capacity he permanently expanded through repeated casting to accommodate his small briefcase.
Albert placed quite a few items inside and then stuffed the box into the leather bag made from a shape-shifting lizard skin that Hagrid had given him. In a way, it was like carrying a shrunken version of a magical bag.
The wallet that Hagrid had given him was indeed very useful. It not only prevented theft and was inconspicuous, but it also saved him from any trouble with the Ministry of Magic.
After all, a bag enchanted with the Trace-less Expansion Charm could not be used blatantly.
During these days, apart from practicing the Guardian Charm, Albert was also learning how to sew gloves.
Madame Malkin from Diagon Alley had replied, politely refusing to make custom gloves for Albert, clearly not interested in the business.
Albert was not surprised by this, as he would probably refuse as well if their positions were reversed.
As for the reason, it was undoubtedly because it was too troublesome.
Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions shop had always been doing good business, and there was no need to spend time and energy on such a request.
Although Albert suspected that the shop's business after the start of the school year might not be as booming as it was now, after all, clothing was not a disposable item, and the wizarding world was not exactly teeming with customers.
However, there was nothing he could do about being refused by Madame Malkin.
Now, he could only take matters into his own hands and do the tailoring himself. Fortunately, Albert was quite dexterous, and after a few attempts with the old robes in the Room of Requirement, he learned the sewing skill and even upgraded it to level one. He could now barely manage to create a prototype of a cloth glove, although it was not wearable.
After discarding over a dozen failed attempts, Albert finally made a decent pair of gloves for himself. However, time had quietly slipped into the middle of February.
The Quidditch match was approaching, and the students could often be heard enthusiastically discussing the outcome.
As the match drew nearer, Charlie's demands on the players became stricter, and the training sessions were not particularly enjoyable. Albert had already excused himself in advance, claiming he had other matters to attend to, thus escaping the grueling training. Fred and George would always give him resentful looks after the training sessions.
"Don't worry, I'll come and cheer you on during the match!" Albert patted Fred on the shoulder in consolation.
"I think if you're willing to participate, our chances of beating Slytherin will increase by at least 30%," Fred replied, his face full of resentment from Charlie's exhausting training regimen.
"You think too highly of me."
"Actually, I think if Albert just says that Slytherin is bound to lose, our chances of winning will increase by at least half," George added solemnly.
However, long before this, Albert had already predicted that Gryffindor would have a hard time defeating Slytherin, so the twins' morale had never been high.
"Anyone want to place some bets?" Lee Jordan suddenly interjected.
"Traitor!" Fred and George glared at Lee Jordan, knowing his intentions.
"Count us in."
"Money to be made."
"Are you trying to throw the game?" Albert was left speechless.
"Of course, we'll give it our all, but since losing is inevitable, we don't mind finding comfort elsewhere." "At least, it's a different kind of victory."
Where's your integrity?
Albert suddenly felt the urge to facepalm. How could the team possibly win if even the players lacked confidence?
"If you guys want to place bets..." A senior student from the neighboring group spoke up, addressing the four of them, "...you can place them with me."
Albert looked up and recognized the student as Kenneth Towle, one of the black-market traders at Hogwarts.
It was Kenneth Towle who had given him a hand when he was selling the anti-swelling potions before.
"If I find out you're gambling, I'll tell Mom about this!" Percy glared at his younger brothers. "And Charlie will be very disappointed if he knows you're betting against Gryffindor winning."
"That's not our fault. Albert's the one who said we have a low chance of winning."
"Yeah, yeah!"
Fred and George promptly shifted the blame onto Albert.
"Ahem, Percy, don't be a killjoy," Kenneth Towle coughed lightly, sounding annoyed. "It's just a small bet, a form of entertainment."
Percy paid no heed to Kenneth Towle's excuses and walked away in large strides, probably...seemingly to find Charlie.
Unbothered by Percy's departure, Kenneth Towle turned his head back to Albert and whispered, "By the way, those anti-swelling potions you gave me last time were great."
"Just say what you want."
"I heard you have a bottle of Baruffio's Brain Elixir. How about it? Are you willing to sell it to me?" Kenneth Towle licked his lips, eyeing Albert like he was a delicious meal.
"How much are you planning to bet?" Albert asked curiously.
"I recall you mentioning ten galleons last time. I'll give you twelve galleons; what do you say?"
"Not selling."
"Why not?"
"That's reserved as a prize for the winner of the Wizarding Card competition," Albert replied.
"Oh, alright then." Kenneth Towle was a little disappointed, but he quickly asked, "Where did you get that from anyway?"
"It was a gift from Dagwood."
"Mr. Dagwood?" Kenneth Towle froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You mean the Master Potioneer, Mr. Dagwood?"
"Yes."
"You actually know him?!?" Kenneth Towle was half-suspicious, half-envious.
"We met last summer while watching an opera in France," Albert replied truthfully, as that was indeed when they first met.
"Mr. Dagwood was watching an opera in France?" Kenneth Towle was having a hard time believing it. "You truly know Master Dagwood?"
"Don't be surprised; Albert knows a lot of famous wizards in the magical world," Fred whispered.
"Wow," Kenneth Towle muttered, impressed but unsure how to respond. He lowered his voice and asked, "Do you think you could get your hands on more Baruffio's Brain Elixir?"
"Is it selling well?" Albert asked, intrigued.
"Of course! You should know that during exams, Hogwarts checks students for cheating," Kenneth Towle glanced around conspiratorially and continued in a hushed tone, "Dragon claw powder and intelligence potions are easily detectable, and even Felix Felicis isn't always reliable. But Baruffio's Brain Elixir and Runic Serpent Eggs are exceptions. Although they're prohibited items, ordinary students wouldn't be able to get their hands on them. The invigilating professors naturally turn a blind eye... In any case, many students who want to excel in their exams are willing to spend a fortune on it."
Fred and George, who were listening intently to Kenneth Towle's explanation, were suddenly jabbed in the ribs by Lee Jordan.
"Look over there..."
"Where?" Fred asked, following Lee's gaze and spotting a fuming Charlie marching towards them.
The Weasley twins quickly stood up, intending to make a run for it, but it was too late. Charlie reached them and placed his hands on their shoulders.
"I heard from Percy..." Charlie's face was dark with anger, "...that you two plan to bet against Gryffindor winning the match?"
Fred and George's faces froze, and they silently cursed Percy in their minds.
"That's not true! We don't even have a galleon to spare, so how could we place any bets?" Fred and George stammered, their faces rigid. (End of Chapter)
Chapter end
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