"When do you think this pot of garlic will be ready for harvest?" George asked, carefully fertilizing and watering the thriving plant.
"By the end of May," Albert replied, blowing wood shavings off a half-finished bracelet before comparing the runes he was about to carve.
"Planning to eat raw garlic?" Lee Jordan teased, tossing a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean into his mouth.
"Your focus is off. You should be asking why Albert knows when garlic is ready to harvest," George said, setting down his watering can. He eyed Lee's bean and added maliciously, "That one must be booger-flavored."
"It's soybean-flavored!" Lee snapped, glaring. He tossed the bean back into the box rather than risk it.
"If you're eating it raw, marinate it in soy sauce. I hear it tastes good," Albert suggested.
"Enough, don't derail the topic," George said impatiently. "Is it really May?"
"Hagrid said so. He grows his own vegetables, so he knows," Albert explained. "If you want garlic crosses, the bulbs you brought from home should be enough."
"It only feels like an accomplishment if we use garlic we grew ourselves," George insisted.
That earned him a round of eye rolls.
"Are you going to throw out that pot? The branch has withered—it won't survive," George said, pointing to another pot.
"Keep it for now," Albert replied. "When the weather warms, I'll replant it."
"Why dittany? Hobby gardening?" Lee asked, baffled.
Albert's interests seemed endless—he studied everything, excelled at everything, and lived more leisurely than anyone else. Lee often felt envious.
"Dittany has excellent healing properties," Albert explained. "Its medicinal value is high. If I ever have my own house, I'll plant it in the garden. For now, I'm just practicing."
He wouldn't admit he thought dittany's healing powers might be popular among Muggles. The idea had struck him after studying economics—special plants with miraculous effects could be valuable.
"Your way of thinking is completely different from ours," George said, shaking his head.
"Is it?" Albert shrugged, focusing on his carving.
This time, he was making a bracelet with a full circle of runes, all designed himself. He wasn't sure it would work—nothing felt special while carving. Perhaps yew wood, symbolizing the Eihwaz rune, would be better.
Forget it. I'll note it down and look for yew wood next time, Albert thought.
"Ah!"
A scream echoed in the dormitory.
Fred leapt from his bed, flinging his book. Albert's hand twitched, ruining a rune. Lee Jordan, startled mid-bite, swallowed his bean whole. George dodged the flying book, only to bang his knee on the table leg.
"What's wrong with you?" they all snapped at Fred.
"My heart… it aches," Fred groaned dramatically, clutching his chest.
"He couldn't have been dumped, could he?" Lee muttered. "But Fred doesn't even have a girlfriend."
"Should we send him to the Hospital Wing?" Albert asked, setting down his knife.
"My leg hurts too much."
"The book… that book…" Fred pointed weakly at the one he'd thrown.
George picked it up. One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. "Didn't know you read this when bored."
"Page 98. Snow mushroom," Fred said grumpily, sounding far less ill.
"Snow mushroom?" George flipped to the page. "Here it is…"
"Ah, my heart aches!" George cried seconds later, clutching his chest and collapsing in despair.
Albert and Lee exchanged curious looks. Lee opened the book, glanced at the page, then closed it quickly, muttering, and handed it to Albert.
Albert opened it—and immediately understood.
The illustration looked suspiciously like the matsutake they had roasted weeks earlier.
"Snow mushroom, also called snow pine mushroom…" Albert read. His face twitched. No wonder they reacted that way.
It grew only in snowy winters, had immense medicinal value… and one ounce of powdered snow mushroom was worth fifty Galleons.
"That was the most expensive thing we've ever eaten," Fred groaned, clutching his chest. "Albert, you prodigal son—you roasted and ate it!"
"If we'd sold it, we'd have made a fortune!" George echoed.
"Should we go dig for more? We could get rich!" Lee suggested eagerly.
"That's a great idea," the twins said, eyes gleaming with visions of Galleons.
Albert's mouth twitched. Money-mad, the lot of them.
He understood their excitement, but poured cold water on it. "Don't even think about it. We only found a little after searching for ages. Snow mushroom isn't easy to preserve. Unless you can process it into powder, it's useless. Left too long, it loses its properties and becomes worthless."
"But—"
"There's no 'but.'"
"The Forbidden Forest does have treasures—it's a primeval forest, untouched. But even if we found more, we couldn't sell it," Albert said firmly. "Who would you trade with? Do you think adults will deal fairly with children? They'll trick you. They're not your fathers—they'll cheat you."
"Aren't you tempted?" George pressed.
"Of course. But I know what I should do. There isn't much snow mushroom anyway. And you need to understand—it's a prohibited commodity. Not easy to sell."
"There are two types of banned trade items: those of extreme value, and those of extreme danger. The Ministry strictly forbids trading them. If you want to sell, you'd have to use the black market. Do you think children get fair deals there? Go to sleep."