Bree's New Roommate

Leave Slytherin? Then all of Bree's efforts would have been for nothing!

Slytherin's rules made it easier for Bree to do as he pleased. Any Little Snake with eyes could see that he wasn't someone to mess with, and they were easier to handle, too.

He enjoyed having an independent life. He didn't want to squeeze in among a bunch of Little Badgers and pretend to be well-behaved. With the Little Snakes, all he had to do was show his strength, and no one would meddle in his business. It was convenient.

Bree walked behind Snape, carrying his suitcase. Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, and Dumbledore had already been persuaded by Bree to go back and rest. What came next was an internal Slytherin matter.

"You're neither Muggle-born nor a Half-blood. There's a good chance you're a Pure-blood wizard." Snape strode ahead, his long robes trailing behind him, and spoke without warning.

"Me?"

Snape stopped outside the Slytherin common room and turned to look at Bree's Eastern features. "Your magic is the answer. Throughout history, people who produced unusual magical phenomena like yours had a pair of powerful wizard parents."

"The phenomenon isn't a bloodline gift. The professors can tell."

"Sharp!"

Boom! The door swung open at the password.

All the Slytherin Prefects were in the common room, and the few young wizards who had caused trouble earlier didn't dare leave either.

Bree's gaze swept over them, and he gave them a friendly, faint smile.

"Oh, finally, you're back."

Malfoy muttered from the side, not knowing how many times he'd yawned.

"Who was Bree Order's roommate before?"

Everyone looked at Blaise Zabini, the tall, thin, dark-haired boy.

"I was, Head of House."

Zabini didn't back down. He met Snape's gaze directly.

"Good. You'll spend a month doing Filch's dirty work. You'll do it yourself. I'll also write to Mrs. Zabini."

"And you lot... troublemakers, the whole bunch."

Snape looked at Bree first, then scanned the room, and finally fixed his gaze on Malfoy. "Have Mr. Theodore Nott move in with Mr. Zabini. Bree Order will share a room with you."

Malfoy's eyes widened. He had to share a room with Bree Order?

It didn't seem all bad, though. Malfoy had had enough of Theodore snoring in his sleep.

"After all, who could be more understanding and tolerant of Mr. Order than Malfoy?"

Before long, Theodore had moved out of his old room. Bree had the House-elves change the bedclothes and then prepared to sleep. The day's events had come completely out of nowhere. As for the other Little Snakes still being reprimanded, he couldn't do anything about them. They'd gone their separate ways after that incident.

"How do you feel?"

Malfoy lay in bed and asked Bree.

"It's just a different place to sleep. I prefer the view from the Owlery. This place is too gloomy, and the wind can't get in."

Bree answered honestly, but he couldn't expect special treatment. He didn't have the means to demand that yet. There would be a way eventually. Perhaps Unicorn hide could be used to make an alchemical notebook capable of withstanding the power of space-time. Then he could teleport short distances. Of course, he'd have to find Trance Grass before he could test it.

Before then, Bree needed to deal with Quirrell's notebook. Going straight to Snape was one option. When two tigers fought, one was bound to get hurt, and Snape didn't seem to like Quirrell either.

The next day, Bree overslept again, not waking until ten. Realizing breakfast was long over, he quickly ate in the kitchen. Next, he needed to find Snape.

"Come in."

Snape's office was also on the first basement level. Bree took Quirrell's notebook over to Snape's desk.

"Does Mr. Order have something important to discuss?"

Snape glanced at the notebook in Bree's hand and frowned.

"This is the notebook Professor Quirrell gave me when he made me serve detention as his assistant. I think there's something wrong with it. I thought I might ask you for help, Professor."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Order, for learning to seek out a professor." Snape's words were caustic, but he took the notebook Bree handed him quite seriously. After looking through it for a while, he asked gravely, "I trust clever Mr. Order hasn't been studying the Dark Magic in it."

"Of course. Any Dark Magic requires an equal measure of malice. I keep that firmly in mind. I swear by the magic Merlin gave me that I haven't learned a single spell from this notebook."

Snape was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Good. You may leave. I'll speak with Quirrell about the matter."

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

"Call me Head of House, Mr. Order. You yourself admit that you're a Slytherin."

"Yes, Head of House."

Order gave a friendly little smile and quickly left Snape's office. What happened next was no longer something Bree needed to be involved in.

"According to some accounts, Snape was once a member of a Dark organization—the Death Eaters. But Dumbledore protected him at his trial and even gave him the positions of Slytherin Head of House and Potions professor. That means he can be trusted with certain things. After all, Dumbledore can be trusted, too, can't he?"

Thinking this over, Bree connected a number of recent events.

The Werewolf in the Forbidden Forest had sent word that Werewolves from outside were stirring up trouble among them. Not long afterward, a Unicorn was hunted by a monster. Then there was Professor Quirrell's strange behavior, the Sorcerer's Stone... its master, and the forbidden place deep in the Third Floor Corridor, where a dog could be heard barking.

Quirrell's master?

Who could it be? Was he a Dark Wizard, planning to contact the Werewolves outside and attack Hogwarts? He'd even hunted a Unicorn. Was the thing in the corridor the Sorcerer's Stone?

Snape seemed to know something, and Dumbledore most likely did, too. But why were they letting Quirrell stay at Hogwarts?

Luring the snake out? Catching the turtle in the jar?

Weren't they afraid the young wizards might get hurt? This was a school, not the Ministry of Magic!

Bree couldn't figure it out, and he didn't want to get involved. It would be best to stay away from Quirrell from now on and focus on learning magic.

"Damn it, that monster's in the Forbidden Forest. How am I supposed to find Trance Grass?" Bree sighed.

"I've learned all the spells I can for now. I haven't figured out how to combine Natural Magic with spells, so I might as well forget about Trance Grass for the time being. There's no point in having all those alchemy books in the Owlery without the ingredients. Right now, I can only look in the Forbidden Section for books about souls... and I still have the borrowing slip Professor McGonagall gave me."

Thinking of books reminded Bree of meditation and the parchment book Professor Flitwick had given him. The blessings and curses in it were fascinating, with something in common with the forces of nature. But to Bree, they were simply a weaker version of Natural Magic Power.

"Maybe I just haven't found the trick yet. Perhaps I can take it to Professor Flitwick and ask him when I have time."

After making a new plan for his studies, Bree began getting ready for Charms class at one that afternoon. He also had Flying Class today and Astronomy Class that evening. His schedule was packed.

By November, snow and ice had covered Hogwarts, and the weather had turned bitterly cold. A thick layer of ice had formed over the Black Lake, and Bree rarely left the castle.

Thanks to the Flame Grass potion, the castle stayed warm. Bree had made some himself to heat the Owlery. Four-Leaf Vine could ward off the cold, but Bree clearly preferred a cozy room.

Although Bree had to return to Slytherin each night, he spent his free time in the Owlery reading.

That afternoon, inside the Owlery:

"Portrait of the Soul. This is the only book I have any hope left in."

Bree had often gone to the Forbidden Section over the past month or so. But Madam Pince checked the books every day, especially the dangerous ones, so Bree couldn't take them away. He could only copy down notes while there. The rest of the time, he studied subjects other than spells. He couldn't focus on spells and nothing else.

Looking at the method for detaining souls written in his notes, Bree pursed his lips in puzzlement. The technique was too crude. How much soul power could it possibly preserve?

"No wonder. A portrait of the soul doesn't need much of a soul. If too much soul power were left behind, the dead might not be able to go to heaven or hell. They would be doomed to unhappiness..."

Though he didn't believe in things like heaven and hell, Bree had seen the soul of a dead Unicorn before. He knew that Unicorns' souls went back to where they had first come from. Perhaps it was a beautiful homecoming, the beginning of another journey.

"But what if I used Natural Magic Power to cast this Soul Detention spell?"

Bree couldn't test it, and he didn't want to. It wouldn't be fair to the soul. Unless it was an enemy, he couldn't bring himself to cross that line.

"Keeping your boundaries and holding fast to your convictions can help you resist the influence of Dark Magic. That's what the Master of the Turret's notes say. I think it applies to soul magic, too."

"Too bad it's still so crude. It doesn't work completely. The Master of the Turret crossed that line and sold his soul."

Setting down his notebook, Faner crawled over to Bree and said anxiously, "Bree, soul magic is too dangerous. Let's find another way. Maybe we could ask the professors for help."

The professors?

No. This was Bree's secret. He would never tell anyone he didn't trust. Even Faner only knew because of their contract.

"Faner, I'm the only one who can deal with this."

"Just as I only make decisions for myself, other people's affairs are their own choices. No one else gets to decide my fate, either. Everyone has their own path, and no one will help you unconditionally."

"Maybe I'll make the wrong choice, but I have no reason to regret it. That's enough for me."

"Don't tell anyone about Quirrell's notebook. It isn't a secret that must be kept, and telling people won't affect me."

"Quirrell isn't going to kill me over a notebook, is he? Haha."

Bree stood up. Tomorrow was the Quidditch final between Gryffindor and Slytherin. The other house matches had finished over the past month, and now this match would decide who advanced to the final. The Quidditch champion would earn 150 House Points.

Unfortunately, Bree had no interest in the match. He hoped he wouldn't run into Hermione today, or she would definitely insist that he go watch.

During the match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, a starting Chaser had been injured while desperately blocking a Bludger. That had thrown off the opposing team's timing. Otherwise, with a Seeker as skilled as Cedric, Gryffindor would have had a hard time winning.

That was how Hermione had gotten the chance to play.

Bree didn't want the trouble of refusing her.

Today, all the young wizards were caught up in guessing who would win tomorrow's match. The recently defeated Hufflepuffs were no exception. They might have been disappointed, but they were still good-natured. Honest and fair-minded, they never complained about anything within the rules. A loss was a loss.

"Cedric?"

Cedric was looking down, lost in thought, when he heard Bree's voice.

"What is it, Bree?"

"I should be asking you that. Is this about Quidditch?" Bree sat at the Slytherin table and turned to Cedric. "I didn't think you'd be like this."

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking that I'd only just joined the team and we'd already lost. I wondered if that would disappoint people, even though I know they won't blame me."

Of course, the gentle Little Badgers would only blame themselves, never their teammates.

"I think you're excellent. Just keep working hard. But I didn't come here to comfort you."

"Professor Sprout has been looking after plants that can't withstand the cold. I wanted to help her, but Professor McGonagall added a lot of notes to my Transfiguration notebook recently, so I haven't had time. Maybe you'd be willing to help... and, while you're at it, ask the professor when she'll give my little box back."

Ever since the professors discovered the Owlery last time, Professor Sprout had seen all the magical plants from the Forbidden Forest in the flowerbed and taken it over, saying that some magical plants couldn't be grown like that.

Bree knew it. Professor Sprout was angry that he'd gone into the Forbidden Forest, and taking the flowerbed away was her punishment. But the Unicorn buried in the flowerbed was a serious problem. It seemed Professor Sprout hadn't noticed yet.

Thanks to everyone for your favorites, recommendation tickets, and monthly passes. Dahua loves you all (holding back).