"I can't understand it at all!"
Isabelle had just taken the parchment from Albert's hand. After only a few glances, she realized she couldn't make sense of it.
Even though she had already studied Ancient Runes and was far ahead of her classmates, the talented witch found that without a dictionary she couldn't even parse the words, let alone grasp their meaning.
Can this boy really understand it? Isabelle was skeptical. Albert's age was right there in front of her; even if he was extraordinary, surely there had to be a limit.
Yet his demeanor didn't seem feigned. Even Professor Broad had acknowledged Albert's proficiency, saying it far exceeded expectation.
Now Albert was calmly revising Uncle Mog's parchment, adding his own insights, occasionally discussing points with Broad—all in fluent Ancient Runes. He didn't need a phonetic chart or dictionary.
"What's going on with him?" Isabelle thought, baffled. How had Albert mastered Ancient Runes so quickly?
Her doubts were interrupted when flames suddenly roared in the fireplace.
"Sorry I'm late. Something came up with the Wizengamot," Mog MacDougal stepped out of the fire, brushing ash from his robes. He turned to Broad. "Bard, you were absent. Didn't you get the notice?"
"I received it this morning. It was so abrupt I pretended I hadn't. It wasn't important anyway," Broad said with a shrug.
"That's a good excuse," Mog mused, as if considering whether to use it himself.
"What was the outcome?" Broad asked.
"What else? A hefty fine, then back to prison," Mog said indifferently. "They broke her wand again. Ten years in Azkaban."
"Ten years? I thought it would be life. Carlotta Pinkstone isn't new to flaunting magic in front of Muggles," Broad remarked. "Her wand was broken last time too."
"She found another. Now the Ministry has stripped her of wand rights entirely. If she violates the Statute again, she'll have a permanent bed in Azkaban," Mog explained.
Albert frowned. "Does the Ministry often break people's wands? For Statute violations?"
Broad and Mog exchanged glances before Mog answered. "Normally, no. Usually just a fine."
"What about the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery?" Albert pressed.
"The third paragraph states that deliberate and knowing use of magic in Muggle areas is a crime," Mog explained. "'Deliberate and knowing' means you've already been warned once. If it's minor, you just meet with the Improper Use of Magic Office. Usually it's a fine. But with a criminal record, you're out of luck."
"What about Muggle-borns?" Albert asked. "If I violate it twice, could I be expelled?"
"Why ask?" Mog raised an eyebrow.
"As a precaution. If I break the law someday, I'll know the loopholes. My family are lawyers—defenders in court," Albert said blandly.
"You don't seem fond of the Ministry," Isabelle muttered, shocked. He was openly planning to exploit loopholes?
"Before school, I had some unpleasant experiences," Albert said, avoiding mention of Truman.
"Related?" Isabelle asked.
"Yes."
"You might be expelled," Broad said seriously. "The Improper Use Office decides, but there's a process."
"If you run into minor trouble, I'll help—if you help me finish this book," Mog interrupted with a smile. "The decree is aimed at children in Muggle areas. They can't control themselves after discovering magic, so restrictions are necessary."
"When you come of age, you'll see wizards rarely interact with Muggles—even the Weasleys who like them," Mog added.
"So it's still about connections and power," Albert said meaningfully.
"Yes. With enough connections, nothing happens—maybe just a fine," Mog said openly.
"Uncle Mog!" Isabelle frowned.
"It's true. Power matters. If you know the Minister, as long as it's not serious, he'll look away," Mog said with a wink.
"Are you trying to—" Isabelle began.
"Actually, I'm interested in Apparition," Albert cut in. "If I could learn it, I wouldn't worry about travel."
"Write to the Knight Bus. Extend your wand into the air," Mog suggested with a smile.
"No, Mog, Albert just wants the easy way out," Broad said knowingly. "Apparition is too difficult for you now."
"Alright, back to work." Mog waved his wand. A stack of parchment appeared on the table.
"This is the second draft."