Be Hard on Yourself

A cold wind whipped up rain and snow, pattering against the windowpanes. The chill that permeated the area around the castle seeped into the castle, causing many students to catch colds.

If this cold snap had arrived a week earlier, the Quidditch Match between Gryffindor Team and Slytherin Team probably wouldn't have had so much trouble.

Even in this weather, the Quidditch Match will not be canceled. The result is predictable: all the players will be shivering in the cold, and probably no one will be in the mood to cause trouble.

In the cold corridor, three figures hurried over. They looked around furtively, and after confirming that no one was around, they quickly passed through the stone walls three times and pushed open the wooden door that appeared on the wall to go inside.

As soon as I stepped inside, a warm, slightly milky scent wafted towards me. On the other side of the door was a bright, warm, and comfortable room, with a thick carpet on the floor and a roaring fire burning in the fireplace.

Beside the fireplace, a familiar figure sat in an armchair, a steaming cup of milk tea on a small round table in front of him.

"Aren't you sick?"

Fred stared at his rosy-cheeked roommate for a moment, then asked in bewilderment.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey just cured me."

Albert, the former patient, sat there with his eyes fixed on the parchment in his hand, and said without looking up, "Anyway, it doesn't matter whether I take History of Magic or not, as long as I don't do too badly on the exam."

"Why am I the one who's sick!" George was jealous of Albert's treatment. He also wanted to be sick and find an excuse to skip class.

To be honest, History of Magic is the most boring subject in the entire curriculum, as all students agree. Binns must have lived for too long; his thinking is incredibly rigid, and his lectures are so boring that they have a hypnotic effect, always making people drowsy.

"You guys can work on how to find a suitable excuse to legally skip class," Albert said without hesitation.

"It's rare to hear you say something like that!" Fred muttered. "What excuse do you think would be better? Don't tell me it's diarrhea. I have no desire to use Strong Laxative. I've never forgotten the miserable state of poor Marcus McLagen."

As Fred spoke, George pulled out the photograph, which had been treated with Developing Potion, from his pocket. It clearly showed Marcus McLagen's Dark History.

The three of them looked at the guy in the photo and couldn't help but laugh again.

"Aren't you afraid Marcus McLagen will find out you're behind this?" Albert was speechless. Why carry around evidence all the time? Are you really that eager to cause trouble? "Oh, okay. Next time, I'll put it in the frame," Fred winked. "So, what kind of Potions would be good for skipping class? Any suggestions?"

"Make yourself have a stomachache?" Lee Jordan listed several symptoms of illness. "Nausea, Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, diarrhea, nosebleeds, fever, colds, what about?"

"Don't joke around. Have you ever seen anyone get sick just to skip class?" George shook his head in denial. He wasn't the kind of person who would harm himself just to skip class.

"Unless, we can find a cure that can quickly resolve the symptoms in a short time." Fred said, his eyes suddenly lighting up as he pulled out Quill and wrote it down. "If we could really do that, I feel it would be a bestseller. Hogwarts would probably have a huge number of people buying it."

"Oh right, I almost forgot what I was going to say?"

"What is it?" Albert asked.

"Kenneth Toller has been put in solitary confinement by Filch!" Fred and George exchanged glances and said in unison, "Filch caught him using Dungbombs at school, and now the poor guy is being ordered by Filch to mop up the Dungbombs marks in the hallway."

"You did this?" Albert raised an eyebrow; even a fool could guess the reason.

"Of course, we've been practicing the Disillusionment Charm, and now we're not easily detected." George secretly tricked Kenneth Toller, feeling particularly pleased.

"I think they might have guessed who did it," Albert cautioned, "If he's observant enough."

"We don't think Kenneth Toller has a brain like yours." The Twins weren't worried at all about being discovered by the other that they were the ones playing tricks.

"What are you doing?" Lee Jordan stared at the silver parts on the table and couldn't help but ask. He'd been wanting to ask ever since; Lee Jordan felt that Albert seemed to be creating some interesting magical gadget again.

"A magical item for self-defense. Its effect is to knock someone unconscious when they are completely unprepared." Albert was assembling Third Floor set. The thing really does look like a lighter. With a gentle push, it will open to reveal a strange honeycomb-shaped cylinder. The inside of the cylinder will be expanded by Undetectable Extension Charm to hold pickled Mandrakes roots.

Of course, right now this thing is just an outer shell.

Albert tested it again and, after confirming that it wouldn't jam, he disassembled the parts one by one and put them back into the box.

He called this Dark Magic item the Banshee's Howl. It still had one final step to complete: placing the salted Mandrakes roots into the device. Once it was confirmed that the device could contain and control the Mandrakes roots, it would be a successful and practical artifact.

Of course, it's also troublesome to use; you have to bring your own earplugs beforehand, otherwise you'll be in big trouble too.

After all, Mandrakes roots were an indiscriminate attack.

"Knock someone out?" George asked, puzzled. "You can cast Stunning Spell on someone."

"No, I call it the Banshee's Howl."

"You didn't hide a Banshee in there, did you?" Lee Jordan joked.

"Almost."

"You really intend to hide Banshee inside?"

"The principle is similar; it's about making others faint through sound."

"When you're done, remember to let me try it out."

"Are you sure?" Albert's expression suddenly turned a little strange. "Alright, since you want to be the first to try it, I don't mind. Originally, I was planning to test its power myself, but since you're willing to sacrifice yourself..."

"Courageous sacrifice? Couldn't that be dangerous?" George was taken aback by Albert's words.

"Probably not, at most you'll be unconscious for a few hours," Albert said uncertainly.

"Your explanation sounds very dubious to me. I have a feeling you've got your hands on something dangerous," Fred muttered. "By the way, do you have any good suggestions for Potions to make me skip class?"

"How about we find some medicines that cause stomach aches, nausea, Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, diarrhea, nosebleeds, fever, and colds, and then resolve the symptoms through detoxification?" Albert suggested.

"Are you trying to persuade the poisoner?"

All three were shocked by Albert's audacity. Was he willing to risk his life just to skip class?

"Of course it's to dilute the poison; you just want all sorts of symptoms." Albert stuffed the box into the Transfiguration Lizard's pouch, preparing to create the Banshee's Howl when he had the chance.

"For example?"

"How would I know? You can go and look up some Herbology books yourselves. There are many dangerous plants in them. There are quite a few plants in the Hogwarts greenhouses. Find the corresponding symptoms, find the antidote, and then try to make your own truancy potion."

The Twins looked at each other, wondering why they felt that Albert's words made a lot of sense.

However, achieving this is not as easy as it sounds, which means they need to put in a lot of effort in Herbology class and the dreaded Potions Class.

Moreover, after the Potions is made, it's not over yet. They still need to test its effects, and they definitely have to eat everything they make first. Just thinking about it gives me the creeps.

"For the dream, for the Galleon, a little sacrifice is necessary." Albert patted the two on the shoulder and said, "Close your eyes and think about it, by then you can make a lot of Galleon from this."