"You didn't actually bait Katrina into that riddle bet just to have an excuse to spend your morning talking to a stone door knocker, did you?" Isabelle Macdougall asked, her voice tinged with a mix of suspicion and genuine bewilderment. She leaned against the cool stone wall, her sharp eyes scanning Albert as if trying to decode a particularly difficult cipher.
Albert didn't miss a beat. He widened his eyes, a look of mock revelation crossing his face. "Ah, you caught me. My secret is out."
Isabelle didn't laugh. She didn't even blink. She just stood there with that calm, "I-know-you're-lying" expression that made Albert feel like he was back in a high-stakes poker game without any cards in his hand.
"Ahem, alright, fine," Albert cleared his throat, leaning back in his armchair. "Truth be told? I'm playing the long game. I'm 'pursuing' Katrina. But your sister is as stubborn as a mountain troll; if I don't let her taste victory at least once, she'll never lower her guard enough to let me in."
He watched her closely, waiting for the older-sister-protective-instinct to kick in. He expected a lecture, maybe a threat, or at least a look of disgust. Telling a girl you're into her younger sister usually wasn't the best way to maintain a professional academic relationship.
Instead, Isabelle's expression became… heavy. Not angry, just weary.
"I don't mind the idea of you pursuing her, Albert," she said softly, her voice echoing in the quiet chamber. "But it's too early. Far too early for Katrina."
"Why?" Albert blurted out. He wasn't asking about the age gap—they were all children in the grand scheme of things. He was asking why the most protective, calculating girl in Ravenclaw was essentially giving him a green light to date her sister.
"Because Katrina thinks the world is a series of exams she has to pass," Isabelle said, finally looking him in the eye. "Her mindset hasn't matured. She sees you as a rival to be defeated, not a person to be known. You, on the other hand… your mind is already miles ahead of this castle. If you two dated now, you'd accidentally crush her spirit without even trying."
She paused, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. "As for why I'd agree? It's simple. You're the most outstanding student to walk these halls in decades. Bar none. If my sister is going to be with someone, why should it be anyone less than the best?"
Albert felt a bit stiff. He wasn't used to such blunt, high-level praise from her. "I was mostly joking about the pursuit, you know."
"I know," Isabelle nodded, her eyes twinkling. "I can see right through your 'clumsy boy' act, Albert. But the fact that you'd spend ten Galleons just to make her feel like she's caught up to you… that's a level of generosity that goes beyond a simple prank. Thank you. I haven't seen her that genuinely happy in a long time."
"Knowledge is the most valuable currency," Albert said, shaking his notebook to change the subject. "The riddles are worth the price. One day, I'll compile all these into a book. I'll make a hundred Galleons back on royalties alone. It's an investment, really."
Isabelle sighed, though it sounded like she was holding back a laugh. "Only you would turn a childhood crush into a business plan. Fine. Finish your little 'quest.' I'll wait. Once you're done playing with the door, I have something to show you inside the chamber."
Albert turned back to the eagle ring. With his Active Thought skill pulsing in the back of his mind, the remaining thirty-odd riddles felt like child's play. He answered them with a speed that would have terrified a normal student.
"What has keys but no locks, space but no room, and allows you to enter but never leave?" "A keyboard."
"I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?" "A map."
In less than twenty minutes, the mental "ping" of his task panel signaled the completion of "Greedy Marauder." A wave of satisfaction washed over him, but he suppressed the urge to check the rewards immediately. Isabelle was watching, and she was far too perceptive for him to be staring at invisible screens.
He pushed the door open, gesturing for her to follow him into the inner sanctum.
"So," Albert said, his fingers tracing the Ancient Runes etched into the chamber walls. "What's the big secret?"
Isabelle didn't answer right away. She walked to the center of the room, her gaze fixed on the ceiling where the constellations were mapped in silver thread. "What about you? You've been in here as much as I have. What did you see that I missed?"
"You first," Albert countered. "Ladies, or researchers, first."
"Fair enough," she said, leaning against a stone plinth. "You know the eagle ring outside? It's a filter. It doesn't just keep people out; it forces them to think in a specific way. Ravenclaw's whole philosophy was that knowledge shouldn't be hidden, but earned. I think this chamber works the same way. If you can't solve the next puzzle, you're supposed to stay here and study until you can. It's not a vault. It's a classroom."
Albert's eyebrows shot up. "A classroom. I had a similar thought. Look at these runes." He ran his hand over a sequence of symbols near the floor. "They aren't just decorative. They're a curriculum. Ravenclaw didn't want us to just read runes; she wanted us to master the magic behind the script. We're looking for a key, but the key is the mastery of the language itself."
The silence that followed was thick with the weight of centuries-old magic.
"Is that why Smith is here?" Albert asked suddenly, breaking the spell. "Is he really just looking for a lost classroom?"
Isabelle turned her head away, her profile sharp against the dim light. "Why ask me that? You're the one who's been spending all your tea time with him."
"Because I have a hunch," Albert said, stepping closer. "Smith is curious, sure. But there's a desperation under his skin. He's not teaching here because he loves children or Defense Against the Dark Arts. There's something else. And I think you know exactly what it is."
Isabelle didn't deny it. She let out a long, slow breath. "You're right. I do know. And unfortunately for you, Albert, it involves you."
"Me? I'm a Muggle-born, Isabelle. I'm a first-generation outlier."
"Muggle-born?" Isabelle turned to him, her expression shifting to one of pity. "Albert, you're far too smart to believe that blood just 'appears' out of nowhere. Professor Broad, Uncle Mogg… they aren't helping you because you're a 'charity case' genius. They're helping you because you're a candidate."
"A candidate for what?"
"For an inheritance," she said, the word tasting like lead. "A surname. An ancient seat. My father was a candidate once. So was Professor Rowena Smith. And now, somehow, you've been added to the list."
Albert felt his heart skip a beat. The system's "Ancient Secret" task popped up in his peripheral vision, confirming her words before he could even process them.
"You think my family has a connection to the Smiths?" Albert asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "That I'm a Squib-descended heir?"
"There's no such thing as 'free love' or 'free mentorship' in the wizarding world, Albert," Isabelle reminded him, her voice cold. "They are cultivating you. Just like they did with me. When I was a child, they were all so kind, so helpful. But the moment my father died, the kindness changed. It became… an investment. They wanted to see if I was 'worthy' of the Smith legacy."
"And what about Katrina?"
"She wasn't chosen," Isabelle said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "She doesn't have the 'spark' they're looking for. It's why she's so desperate to prove herself. She's been left out of the only thing that matters to our family's benefactors."
Albert leaned back against the wall, his mind racing through the implications. "So Smith is here to find the 'treasure' that proves he's the rightful heir. And he's using me as a backup? Or a rival?"
"Probably both," Isabelle said. "He knows he's running out of time. But the truth is, the 'treasure' isn't a pile of gold. It's exactly what you said: it's the knowledge. It's the mastery of the runes."
The door to the chamber suddenly groaned open. The heavy, rhythmic footsteps of Professor Smith echoed through the corridor.
"He's here," Isabelle whispered. "Tell him your theory. Let him see the truth."
Professor Smith stepped into the room, his cloak billowing slightly. He looked tired—deeper bags under his eyes than usual. When he saw Albert, he froze for a second, then forced a weary smile. "Ah, Albert. I see you've joined our little study session."
"Professor," Albert said, stepping forward. "Isabelle and I were just discussing the nature of this room. I don't think there's a secret door, Professor. Or a hidden chest."
Smith's smile faltered. "Oh? And what do you think it is?"
"It's a dead end for anyone who doesn't want to learn," Albert said bluntly. "The 'treasure' is the mastery of Ancient Runes required to open the next layer. Ravenclaw didn't hide her wealth; she turned it into a lesson. If you can't read the walls, you can't reach the center. And by the time you can read the walls, you don't need the gold anymore—because the knowledge is more valuable."
The silence that followed was agonizing. Professor Smith stood perfectly still, his gaze wandering over the runes he had spent months trying to bypass. His shoulders slowly slumped, the regal air he usually carried deflating like a punctured balloon.
"A lesson," Smith repeated, his voice hollow. "All this time… I was looking for a key, and the key was the book I was already holding."
He looked at Albert, and for a moment, the young wizard saw a flash of genuine, crushing despair in the man's eyes. It was the look of someone who had spent their whole life chasing a mirage only to realize they were standing in a desert.
"You're likely right, Albert," Smith said, his voice barely a whisper. "It fits. It fits her perfectly." He reached out and patted Albert's shoulder, his hand trembling slightly. "You have the talent to do it. You might actually open it one day. When you do… just tell me what's inside. I've given too much to this pursuit to end it in total ignorance."
He turned and walked away, his footsteps sounding heavy and old. As he disappeared into the shadows of the Room of Requirement, Albert looked at Isabelle.
"Was that too cruel?" he asked.
"The truth usually is," she replied, her eyes fixed on the empty doorway. "But at least now he knows why he failed."