"Well," Albert murmured, his voice sounding thin inside the magical bubble. "It seems we've managed to bumble our way into the right zip code after all."
Lee Jordan blinked, looking from the broken stone hand to the piles of filth. "What do you mean 'right spot'? All I see is a broken garden ornament and enough troll droppings to fertilize the entire Forbidden Forest. This isn't exactly a vault at Gringotts, Albert."
George let out a sharp, incredulous huff, rolling his eyes so hard it probably hurt. "Lee, use that thing between your ears for once. We're miles into the Forbidden Forest, in a cave that's been inhabited by monsters for decades. How often do you find high-quality masonry just lying around in the mud? This is it. The treasure is close."
"Is it?" Fred asked, scanning the uneven, slime-slicked walls of the hollow. "Because unless Gryffindor hid his gold in a pile of half-digested boar, I'm not seeing a lot of return on our investment yet."
The cave was a depressing sight—a natural limestone pocket that had been crudely expanded by the trolls' brute strength. There were no obvious doors, no glowing runes, and certainly no chests overflowing with jewels.
"What's the plan, then?" George asked, turning to Albert. "Do we start poking the walls? I'm not keen on spending more time in here than I have to. Bubble-head charm or not, the 'ambiance' is getting to me."
Albert pulled the treasure map from Fred's hand. The golden marker was no longer moving; it sat dead-center on their current location, pulsing with a low, expectant thrum. He narrowed his eyes, his mind working through the geometry of the space.
"Clear the debris," Albert commanded. "Fred, George, Lee—start moving the refuse away from the back wall. Use Scourgify and Tergeo to strip the grime. If there's an entrance, it's hidden behind centuries of... well, troll-related buildup."
"Do you think it's a secret passage? Like the one behind the One-Eyed Witch?" Fred asked, already waving his wand to blast away a pile of wet straw. "Maybe there's a pressure plate or a hidden handle."
"Keep an eye out for more stone fragments," Lee suggested, his curiosity finally winning out over his disgust. "If that hand came from a statue, the rest of it has to be somewhere. Statues in Hogwarts usually guard things; they aren't just for show."
"Dig it out," Albert agreed, his tone distracted. "While you lot play archeologist and janitor, I have a bit of housekeeping to do outside."
He turned on his heel and headed back toward the mouth of the lair.
"Where are you going?" the three of them asked in unison, pausing their cleanup.
"Just going to finalize our security arrangements," Albert said nonchalantly, his voice drifting back as he stepped into the dim forest light. "I'm going to kill those two trolls. I'd rather they didn't wake up halfway through our treasure hunt and decide to treat us like a four-course meal."
The three boys froze. The casual, almost bored way Albert said it—as if he were talking about swatting a pair of annoying flies—sent a chill through them that had nothing to do with the damp cave air. They hadn't expected him to be so cold-blooded about it.
"I'll... I'll come with you," George muttered after a second. He dropped his wand and hurried after Albert, clearly more desperate to escape the filth of the den than he was to help with the "housekeeping."
Fred and Lee watched them go, their faces darkening as they realized they were the ones stuck with the shovel duty. "He definitely did that on purpose," Lee grumbled, aiming a particularly aggressive cleaning charm at a pile of bones.
Outside, the two Forest Trolls lay in a tangled, snoring heap, bound by Albert's enchanted vines.
"Is it... is it really necessary?" George asked quietly, watching Albert approach the giants. "I mean, they're tied up pretty tight."
Albert looked at George, his gaze calm and unnervingly pragmatic. "Forest trolls eat people, George. They don't just bully you for lunch money; they tear you apart. If I were Dumbledore, maybe I'd have the luxury of mercy—I could probably charm them into being vegetarians. But we aren't at that level, are we?"
George went quiet. He remembered the raw power behind the troll's club earlier—the way the ground had literally shaken. If they had slipped up for even a second, they would have been red smears on the forest floor.
"How are you going to do it?" George asked, his voice low. "You sure you want me to watch?"
"I don't mind," Albert replied. "It's a quick process. Better to learn the reality of things now."
Albert didn't bother with a flashy combat spell. He raised his wand, his focus intensifying. The surrounding thick, iron-wood branches of the trees suddenly groaned and twisted, sharpening into long, wicked steel-tipped spikes under his Transfiguration. With a sharp flick, the spikes lunged forward like spears, piercing the trolls' skulls with a sound like a knife through a ripe melon. The giants didn't even twitch; their snoring simply stopped.
"They're... they're gone," George said, his voice a bit shaky.
"Clean and efficient," Albert said. He used a series of powerful blasting and digging charms to hollow out a deep trench beneath the bodies. With a final wave, the earth collapsed over them, burying the "security hazard" deep beneath the forest floor.
The primary reason, of course, was purely tactical. Albert suspected Gryffindor's legacy involved more than just walking into a room and picking up a bag of gold. If things got loud or if they were trapped, he didn't want two tons of angry muscle waiting for them at the exit.
"That felt... a bit grim," George sighed, looking at the fresh patch of dirt.
"Pity is the luxury of the winner, George," Albert said indifferently, turning back toward the cave. "If they had hit us with those clubs, they wouldn't be feeling sorry for our remains. They'd just be looking for a toothpick."
When they returned to the hollow, Fred and Lee had actually made significant progress. They had cleared a large section of the back wall and unearthed several more stone pieces. Albert stepped forward and used a complex Reparo sequence. The stones flew together, knitting themselves into the form of a crouching, winged creature.
"It's a Griffin," Lee muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Looks just like the one guarding the Headmaster's office. I bet this is the entrance."
"But it's broken," Fred pointed out, gesturing to the cracks where the troll clubs had clearly done their work. "If it's anything like the one at school, it probably needs a password. And stone monsters don't usually talk when they've had their heads smashed in."
"What do we do now? Guess?" George asked.
"The trolls probably did the guessing for us," Albert said, examining the damaged statue. "I can imagine the statue asked for a password, and the trolls—being trolls—responded by hitting it until it stopped talking. Subtle."
"Should we try to force it?" Fred asked. "Maybe a Bombarda?"
"Let's try the direct approach first," Albert said. He stepped up to the blank wall behind the statue and centered himself. " Porta Aperta! "
The spell hit the stone and instantly rebounded, a streak of blue light whistling past Albert's ear and exploding against the opposite wall of the cave. They all dove for cover as stone chips rained down on them.
"Magic reflection," Albert noted, unruffled as he stood back up. "Definitely the right spot. Only a founder would put a ward that nasty on a cellar door."
"Wait! The map!" Fred shouted, pointing to the parchment in his hand. The ink was shifting again, forming letters across the golden marker.
"It's a riddle?" Lee asked.
"No," Albert said, leaning over. "It's a password. 'Brave and Fearless.' "
"Of course it is," George groaned. "Gryffindor wasn't big on subtlety, was he?"
"It's a classic for a reason," Albert muttered. He remembered the Sorting Hat's lyrics—the emphasis on daring and nerve. He stepped up to the wall, pressed his wand tip against the cold stone, and spoke the words clearly: "Brave and Fearless."
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, a deep, rhythmic grinding sound echoed through the hollow. The wall didn't swing open; it dissolved, the stones folding into themselves like a complicated puzzle box. A long, dark passageway stretched out before them, smelling of cold air and ancient dust.
"It worked!" Lee cheered, his earlier fear replaced by the sheer thrill of the find. He started to rush forward, but Albert caught him by the shoulder.
"Hold on, Icarus," Albert warned. He tossed another Lumos orb into the darkness. The light traveled a long way, revealing a narrow staircase descending deep into the earth. There were no immediate traps visible, but Albert knew better.
"If Ravenclaw's treasure was hidden in the mind, Gryffindor's is hidden behind a test of nerve," Albert said, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of caution and excitement. "The fresh air from the entrance is still circulating, but we don't know how deep this goes. Let's let the passage vent for a minute."