Chapter 560: Can't Afford It
Chapter 560: Can't Afford It
Hagrid's desire to become a professor of Magical Creature Protection didn't dampen Fred, George, and Lee Jordan's spirits for long. As for the wound on Fred's hand, caused by the Monster Book of Monsters, it had completely healed under Madam Pomfrey's care.
The end of October crept up quietly, and students of Hogwarts in their third year and above were all abuzz about their upcoming trip to Hogsmeade.
Fred and George wanted to restock on Stink Pellets at Zonko's Joke Shop and, while they were at it, see if they could glean some business insights from Mr. Zonko.
But would Mr. Zonko really be willing to share his business acumen with the twins? Albert had his doubts; not everyone was as generous as he was.
On the morning before Halloween, Albert woke up with the others and made his way downstairs for breakfast. As they walked through the first-floor corridor, the sweet aroma of pumpkin pies wafted through the air.
"It's going to be a great day," George said happily, stuffing a piece of pie into his mouth and chewing vigorously.
"We can have some fun in Hogsmeade and still make it back for the Halloween feast tonight," Fred added after swallowing a sausage and washing it down with pumpkin juice.
"You can also attend Nearly Headless Nick's five-hundredth Deathday Party," Albert said, glancing up from behind his newspaper at Hermione, who was sitting not too far away, haughtily reminding Harry to keep his promise.
"What's a deathday party?" Lee Jordan asked, confused.
Albert lowered his gaze back to the newspaper and continued reading the headline story, explaining nonchalantly, "It's a gathering of ghosts."
"A gathering of ghosts?" George eyed Albert skeptically. "How do you know that?"
"Harry Potter mentioned it just now, but you guys weren't paying attention," Albert said, gesturing for the three of them to turn their heads. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting a few tables away, and they, too, turned to look in their direction.
"Sounds interesting," Fred said, intrigued.
"Don't be silly. Ghost food isn't exactly appetizing for humans," Albert retorted, giving Fred a look that said he thought his friend was being stupid. "If you can stomach the moldy, rotten food they'll be serving, then I'll take back what I said."
Upon hearing Albert's words, Harry's face fell, and he now regretted ever agreeing to attend the deathday party.
However, in the end, he relented under Hermione's stern gaze, and Ron, who had initially been swayed by Albert's words, also caved in when Hermione glared at him. After all, they had already promised to accompany Harry to Nick's deathday party.
"By the way, are you going to ditch us again and not come to Hogsmeade with us?" Lee Jordan asked, eyeing Albert, who was absorbed in his newspaper.
"Yeah, I have plans with someone else," Albert replied without looking up.
"Just say you're going on a date," Fred said, rolling his eyes at Albert. Ever since he got a girlfriend, he hadn't joined them on their trips to Hogsmeade.
"What are you reading? Is there some big news in the paper?" Lee Jordan asked, curious about what had captured Albert's attention.
"Yeah, the Wolfsbane Potion has been perfected, and Mr. Damocles has made the formula public, earning himself the Order of Merlin, Third Class," Albert summarized.
"Wolfsbane Potion? What's that?" the three friends asked, perplexed.
However, they knew that for a potion to merit a Merlin Order, it had to be an extraordinary invention.
"It's a potion that, when consumed, keeps werewolves harmless during their full moon transformation," Albert explained. He had just finished reading about the formula and the brewing process in the newspaper, and he arched an eyebrow, his expression slightly bemused.
In fact, Mr. Damocles had invented the Wolfsbane Potion a long time ago, but the potion was extremely difficult to brew, and the ingredients were prohibitively expensive—far beyond the means of the average werewolf.
Later, Hector Dagworth had invited Albert to help improve the Wolfsbane Potion, and several renowned Potion Masters had also contributed to the effort. While they had succeeded in reducing the complexity of the brewing process and the cost of ingredients, the potion was still too expensive for impoverished werewolves. A hundred galleons and eighty galleons were essentially the same to them; they simply couldn't afford either.
Of course, the Wolfsbane Potion wasn't as exorbitantly priced as before, but it was still out of reach for werewolves.
Albert shook his head as he finished reading the article.
"What's up?" Fred noticed Albert's head movement.
"The Wolfsbane Potion is too expensive," Albert replied.
"Too expensive?"
"As you know, werewolves face discrimination from wizards and have a hard time finding work in the wizarding world. They're mostly poor, and they simply can't afford this potion," Albert said irritably. "They have to take it before each full moon, which would cost them several dozen galleons per month, not to mention the waste from failed attempts at brewing it. And to make matters worse, there are very few wizards capable of brewing the Wolfsbane Potion."
The three friends now understood what Albert meant. The Wolfsbane Potion was indeed a remarkable invention, but it was of no use to werewolves who couldn't afford it! "By the way, if you're free, come with us to Zonko's Joke Shop. Maybe you can get Mr. Zonko to spill some useful information," Fred said, changing the subject. They weren't particularly interested in the Wolfsbane Potion.
"You can use the Wizarding Cards as an excuse," Albert suggested casually. "Just tell Mr. Zonko that you plan to open a shop selling Wizarding Cards in the future. Remember not to say too much about the cards themselves, or he might trick you into revealing more than you intended."
"We know what to do," Fred and George said simultaneously. They then took out their notebooks and jotted down a quick reminder so they wouldn't forget later.
"Well, see you at the feast later, then," Albert said as he accompanied the three friends to the entrance hall and saw them off under Filch's watchful eye. He then slowly pulled out his pocket watch to check the time before heading back to the Great Hall, where he continued reading the newspaper while waiting for his date to arrive.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," Isabel said as she appeared beside Albert.
"Not at all. Let's go," Albert replied, standing up and leaving the hall as the other students watched. Before exiting, he spared one last glance at Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, who was sitting by Filch as he checked names off a list.
"What's wrong?" Isabel asked as they made their way toward the school gates. She had noticed Albert's subtle actions.
"The prophecies I made before haven't come true yet," Albert said softly. "But I have a feeling something might happen at the feast today."
"Why do you think that?" Isabel asked, puzzled.
"It's just a hunch," Albert said, taking Isabel's soft hand in his and turning to smile at her. "Anyway, let's not talk about that now. Where do you want to go? How about the Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop?"
(End of Chapter)
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