The ink sank into the paper. A moment later, a new line of writing appeared directly beneath it.
"Hello. How may I help you?"
Gerald set the quill back in the ink bottle and looked down at the neat writing on the notebook's page.
Suddenly, the whole scene felt rather absurd.
In a sense, this was a completely offline, local knowledge base built from the contents of more than a hundred books on magic.
Gerald had never imagined he would get to use a stripped-down version of Professor Big D at Hogwarts in 1989.
In a magical world without the internet, its value was unimaginable.
Gerald picked up the quill and wrote a question on the page.
"When is the best time to add porcupine quills to the Cure for Boils?"
The ink on the page sank into the paper, and an indigo light flashed across the back cover.
A few seconds later, neat writing began to appear, line by line.
"The best time to add porcupine quills is when the powdered snake fangs have boiled in the standard potion for seven minutes and the liquid has changed from light gray to pale blue. Adding them too early will melt the cauldron and turn the potion into thick green smoke, while adding them too late will reduce its efficacy by approximately thirty percent."
Gerald asked a few more questions, and the notebook answered each in turn.
Some answers were precise and thorough; others were a little vague.
It never fabricated answers to questions it could not answer. Every response was based on information already entered, and whenever it could not retrieve anything relevant, it honestly displayed "No matching results found."
Gerald put the quill back in the ink bottle, closed the notebook, and left the Room of Requirement, thoroughly satisfied.
As he reached the stairs, a white figure drifted across the ceiling overhead.
Gerald glanced up. Peeves was hanging upside down from a chandelier, one hand clamped over his mouth, looking terrified.
At Gerald's glance, Peeves shot up through the ceiling and disappeared.
When he returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, the fire was blazing in the hearth, its orange-red glow bathing the room in warmth.
The moment Gerald pushed the door open, he spotted Fred and George.
The two were standing in the middle of the common room, trying to sell something to a third-year student they had stopped.
"Nosebleed Nougat! Safe, convincing, and perfect for skipping class. Fancy a few?"
Fred held up a paper bag the size of his palm. Its open top revealed several pale red sweets, each wrapped in transparent paper and gleaming enticingly in the firelight.
George added from beside him, "Only five Sickles each. Pop one in your mouth, give it a couple of chews, and ten seconds later, blood starts coming out of your left nostril. You can control how much, and it leaves no traces."
The third-year hesitated, then took several silver Sickles from his pocket and bought two.
Fred took the money, and George handed over the sweets.
"Enjoy!"
Fred pocketed the silver Sickles. Seeing Gerald approach, he came over with a grin and held up the bag. "Gerald, want to try one? See how it works?"
"Oh, please." Gerald pushed his outstretched hand away. "I don't want to get blood everywhere."
"What's there to worry about? It's fake blood." George came up on his other side. "It's not real. We made it with a special plant pigment. It looks exactly like a real nosebleed, but it rinses straight off with water. It won't stain your clothes."
"I'm still not eating it." Gerald went around them and sat down in an armchair beside the fireplace.
Fred and George exchanged a glance, shrugged in unison, and went off to find their next customer.
Gerald settled back in the armchair and watched for a while.
Even the Weasley family's twin brothers' sales tactics suited their personalities perfectly.
The common room door swung open, and Percy walked in.
Percy carried a thick stack of parchment, striding briskly ahead without looking to either side.
Fred and George were still selling Nosebleed Nougat nearby. As Percy passed them, he paused, a look of distaste in his eyes.
"I suggest you stop selling those things, too. If Filch catches you, you'll get detention."
Fred and George turned to see Percy and rolled their eyes at the same time.
"Percy, you're not even a prefect. Why are you sticking your nose into everything?"
"I will be soon."
"Then come back when you actually are," George said flatly.
Percy snorted and strode into the boys' dormitory with his stack of parchment.
"He really thinks he's something," George said contemptuously once Percy had left.
"Come with me. I've got something to show you."
With that, Gerald got up first and returned to the dormitory.
Fred and George stopped selling their sweets and followed him inside.
Lee Jordan was eating a Chocolate Frog on his bed, with chocolate smeared at the corner of his mouth.
Kenneth was sitting on his bed reading, still working through Hogwarts: A History. He looked close to finishing it.
"Boss, those two idiots really did a number on me today. I bled all over the floor!" Lee Jordan climbed off his bed to complain when he saw Gerald return.
"What's that little sacrifice of yours compared to our great cause?"
"Oh, get lost. Why didn't you try it yourselves?"
Gerald did not answer. He took the notebook out of his Object-Storing Talisman and opened the cover.
"What's that? Don't tell me you actually pulled it off?" George's voice began to tremble.
"Ask it anything and see," Gerald said.
George thought for a moment, picked up the quill from the bedside table, and wrote a line on the page.
"Who is Nosebleed Nougat suitable for?"
The ink sank into the paper. A few seconds later, writing began to appear.
"Nosebleed Nougat is a prank sweet suitable for wizards who need to leave class temporarily or avoid a particular activity. Created by the great Weasley brothers."
George read the answer and nodded in satisfaction.
George and Fred had helped carve the information-storage runes on all three energy-storage crystals. He had entered that bit of information on a whim.
"Looks like it really worked. You're making us look like idiots, you know?"
Gerald rubbed his temples at the answer. "I never realized you two were this full of yourselves."
"But it's true, isn't it?"
"Your Nosebleed Nougat isn't worth a damn compared to the boss's-
"work!" Lee Jordan had naturally seen it too, and made an exaggerated show of his praise.
"Gerald, if you can mass-produce this, you'll be rich!" Fred's eyes lit up. He had quickly sniffed out the notebook's commercial value.
"Let me try."
Lee Jordan took the quill and eagerly wrote on the page.
"Which girls have a crush on Lee Jordan?"
The notebook remained silent for a few seconds, then finally displayed "No matching results found."
Lee Jordan's face fell.
"Boss, your notebook isn't smart enough. It doesn't even know that," Lee Jordan said in all seriousness as he put down the quill.
"Your question is beyond its capabilities. It can only answer questions based on the information entered into it. It can't make up answers. Also, you're even more... shameless than those two."
Lee Jordan's expression froze.
"I'm being honest. The girls who adore me are as numerous as the stars in the sky. You just don't know about them."
Kenneth had been sitting quietly on his bed, watching it all.
He put down Hogwarts: A History, picked up the quill from his bedside table, and wrote a line in the notebook.
His handwriting was very neat. It was clear he had grown up in a household with strict standards.
"Who founded Hogwarts?"
The notebook quickly supplied an answer.
A detailed account of Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin appeared in the notebook, including the four founders' birth and death years, their houses' defining traits, and their major contributions.
Kenneth studied the answer in silence for a moment, then said something that silenced everyone.
"What do you think would happen if you brought a notebook like this into an exam..."
"!!!"
That was a use Gerald had never considered.
His roommates really were geniuses, every last one of them.
Before you continue