At dinnertime, the Hogwarts Great Hall was once again filled with lavish food and lively conversation. At one end of the Gryffindor table, Hermione ate roast potatoes while flipping through her Magical Theory notes, preparing for tomorrow's class.
A figure sat down in the empty seat beside her. Hermione looked up and saw Silas, carrying a plate of food that seemed deliberately chosen to be relatively less "dark"—such as roast chicken breast and vegetable salad.
After sitting down, Silas did not look at Hermione. Instead, he cleared his throat and said in a deliberately casual tone that practically screamed guilt:
"Ahem, just so we're clear, I'm absolutely not sitting here because it's convenient to talk to you while eating."
Hermione put down her fork and looked at him with an expression that was equal parts annoyed and amused. "Then why did you specifically come all the way from the Ravenclaw table to Gryffindor? It's not exactly close to the kitchens."
Having been exposed, Silas's face flashed with awkwardness. But he immediately raised his chin and retorted in an indignant tone, "This conclusion came from rigorous observation! I seriously suspect the kitchens favor Gryffindor! The roast meat sent over here is always cooked better, and the vegetables are fresher! I'm pursuing a higher standard of dining!"
Seeing how he clearly wanted someone to talk to yet stubbornly insisted on making excuses, Hermione could not help laughing. She shook her head and did not expose him any further.
Seeing that Hermione had stopped questioning him, Silas relaxed and began enjoying his dinner. Halfway through, he seemed to remember something, and a mischievous smile curled across his lips. He quietly took the small cage containing the Niffler from his pocket, opened a gap, and let the little creature out.
The moment the Niffler was free, its bright little eyes immediately began searching everywhere for something shiny.
Silas bent down, pointed toward the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was arrogantly talking to Crabbe and Goyle, and quietly gave the Niffler its instructions:
"Go on. See that guy with straw-yellow hair who looks down on people through his nostrils? Steal one Galleon from his pocket!"
The Niffler seemed to understand. Like a streak of black lightning, it silently skimmed along the ground, using the tablecloths and the crowd as cover as it quickly slipped beneath the Slytherin table.
A few minutes later, while Silas and Hermione were chatting on and off, an exasperated howl suddenly came from the Slytherin table:
"My Galleon! Who stole my Galleon?! I clearly put it in this pocket!"
It was Draco Malfoy's voice. He frantically rummaged through the pockets of his robes, his expression ugly. One Galleon was no small sum for a student. Though he was the young master of the Malfoy family, losing money for no reason was still enough to make him upset and furious.
Hermione looked at Silas in surprise, then at the Niffler that had just slipped back beneath their table and was handing a Gold Galleon to Silas. Lowering her voice, she asked with a trace of reproach and confusion, "How could you... how could you make your pet steal things?!"
Silas accepted the Galleon, still warm from Malfoy's body, and casually tossed it in the air. His face was full of the delight of a successful prank. He leaned closer to Hermione and explained in an even quieter voice:
"I don't like him. This afternoon in the corridor, he and his two lackeys blocked the way and looked at me through their nostrils, acting like idiots with that whole 'I'm pure-blooded, I'm the noblest' attitude."
He paused, an expression of disgust and revulsion appearing on his face as he added the most important reason:
"What really annoyed me was... I had to fight desperately against the urge to stick my fingers into those nostrils he deliberately flared as wide as a hippo's! The image was too beautiful to imagine. Since I was so disappointed that I didn't do it, he had to pay some kind of price to soothe my wounded heart."
"Pfft—!" Hermione had been taking a sip of pumpkin juice. Hearing that, she nearly sprayed it everywhere. She hurriedly covered her mouth and began coughing violently, her face flushing red as she fought between laughter and choking.
"Cough, cough, cough... Silas! I'm eating! Are you trying to make me choke to death laughing?!" Hermione glared at him helplessly while patting her chest.
Watching her miserable state, Silas laughed smugly. He stuffed the Galleon back into his pocket and returned the Niffler, its mission complete, to its cage. He felt absolutely no guilt about pranking Malfoy. If anything, he felt he was doing the public a service—mainly for his own peace of mind.
Looking at the Gold Galleon he had "borrowed" from Malfoy, he rolled it between his fingers and felt that it was a little too hot to hold—not because he feared Malfoy, but because he disliked trouble. He had only wanted to teach that arrogant blond brat a lesson and make him embarrass himself. He had never truly wanted such a small amount of money.
"Alright, little guy," Silas said as he bent down to the Niffler, which had just completed its mission and was looking at him expectantly with shining eyes—perhaps hoping for more "sparkly" tasks. "Your mission isn't over yet. Go quietly place this Galleon on the ground beside that blond's feet. Let him find it himself. He can search around in a panic, then finally find it by his feet and embarrass himself again. That'll be enough. I don't actually want his money."
Silas thought his plan was perfect. It would achieve the goal of pranking Malfoy while making him seem like an honorable thief—just a prank, not actual theft.
The Niffler tilted its flat little head, seeming to understand. It nodded—or made something resembling a nod—took the Gold Galleon with its little claws, then turned and slipped toward the Slytherin table again like a black shadow.
Silas sat up straight in satisfaction and continued eating dinner. Every now and then, he chatted with Hermione while keeping an eye on Malfoy from the corner of his eye, eagerly awaiting Malfoy's comical expression as he went from furious to confused, then awkwardly relieved when he found the Galleon by his feet.
Several minutes passed. Malfoy was still complaining to his lackeys and searching, but the scene Silas had expected—"finding it by his feet"—never happened.
"Hm? Is the little guy that slow?" Silas wondered.
After a while longer, Malfoy seemed to give up searching. He sat down while grumbling curses, though his face remained ugly.
At that moment, Silas felt the hem of his robe being lightly tugged. Looking down, he saw that the Niffler had returned. The little creature looked up at him, blinking its little eyes with an innocent expression that seemed to say, "Mission complete, praise me already." But... its two little claws were completely empty.
Silas's heart skipped a beat, and an ominous feeling rose within him. He lowered his voice and asked, "Where's the Galleon? Did you put it by his feet?"
The Niffler nodded vigorously and even pointed one little claw toward the Slytherin table, as if saying, "I put it there! I definitely put it there!"
Silas frowned. Something was wrong. If the Galleon had truly been placed beside Malfoy's feet, there was no way Malfoy, with how desperately he was searching for his money, would not have found it. Unless...
A thought flashed through Silas's mind. He suddenly remembered the nature of Nifflers—an almost instinctive, irresistible possessiveness toward gold, silver, and treasure!
He grabbed the Niffler without regard for its squeaking protests and carefully inspected it. Sure enough, beneath the soft, fluffy black fur on its belly, he felt a hard, round bulge!
Silas: "..."
Half amused and half exasperated, he dug the Gold Galleon out of the Niffler's "secret treasure stash." The little creature still tried to protect it with its claws, letting out wronged little cries.
"You little liar!" Silas lightly flicked the Niffler's forehead with a finger. "I told you to put it back, but you went and pulled a 'guard stealing what he guards' on me instead. You secretly kept it for yourself, didn't you?"
The Niffler covered the spot where it had been flicked with its little claws. Its bright eyes were filled with the grievance of, But the Gold Galleon was too shiny—I couldn't resist!
Silas looked at the Galleon in his hand, recovered after being lost—or rather, never truly lost at all—then looked toward Malfoy in the distance, who was still sulking. He sighed helplessly.
"Fine, fine. Looks like this money is destined to belong to you, you little miser." Silas placed it back into the Niffler's claws and decided to stop bothering with it. "Just consider it Malfoy's sponsorship for your emotional damages. He shouldn't have glared at me through his nostrils."
He stuffed the Niffler back into its cage. Seemingly realizing that the Galleon ultimately still "belonged" to it, the little creature curled up contentedly.
Hermione had witnessed the entire process from the side and could not help laughing. "Your pet... certainly has personality."
Silas shrugged. "Yeah. Just like me, it's not very good at following the rules."
This prank against Malfoy ultimately ended with the Niffler lining its own pockets and Silas giving up in helplessness. Still, being able to make Malfoy suffer for a while meant Silas felt that he had achieved at least half his goal. As for that one Galleon... he would consider it an unexpected gain.
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