Alchemy and the Midnight Duel

Oren pulled a huge pile of copper ingots from his bag, making Dumbledore's eyelids twitch wildly.

"Child, where did you get these copper ingots? Why do they look so familiar?"

"Filch's storage room."

Dumbledore's mouth twitched. Oren knew the lecture on morals was about to begin.

"Wait, Headmaster, let me explain myself."

Dumbledore folded his arms, looking as though he were saying, Go on, entertain me.

"Filch only uses these copper ingots during the holidays. I just need to return them before then."

"Headmaster, don't look at me like that. How can an alchemist's business be called stealing?"

"Fine, child. Just remember to return them to Filch."

Oren sighed in relief. It seemed he had escaped today's round of nagging.

He rolled his wrists and began the alchemy. An exquisite copper kettle slowly took shape, and Oren inlaid it with silver filigree and gemstones.

"Child, this teapot truly is exquisite, especially those embedded gems. How did you think of that?"

"Did that really take thought, Headmaster? What good gems can you dig out of a Niffler's nest? They're barely bigger than grains of sand. I can't sell them, so I might as well use them."

Dumbledore's mouth twitched. Well, at least he had only victimized the Nifflers. He was still a kind child, in the end.

"Now comes the most important step: adding a soul."

Dumbledore craned his neck. "Why aren't you adding the soul? Did something go wrong?"

Oren rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't I process the soul first? Aren't you afraid the teapot will bite you in the middle of the night?"

Dumbledore...

Thirty minutes later—

"Done! Headmaster, allow me to solemnly introduce this kettle to you."

"This teapot can brew tea or store any beverage. Simply twist the bee sculpture on the lid to adjust the sweetness."

"Headmaster, when you make tea, surely you often have the problem of sugar cubes not dissolving completely and piling up at the bottom of the pot, right?"

Dumbledore nodded. He was starting to take an interest in the teapot.

Oren's salesmanship had reached its peak. He was confident that he could sell a cat teaser to even a passing dog.

"This teapot can solve all those problems. The magic attached to it can easily break through the limits of saturation and science, bringing you the ultimate sweetness!"

By now, Oren was so caught up in his sales pitch that he had climbed onto a stool.

Dumbledore had just been about to ask where he could buy one when he suddenly realized something was off. He changed the subject. "Child, now that you've used all the copper ingots, how will you return them to Filch before the holidays?"

"Simple. I'll sell the alchemical product, use the money to buy another batch of copper ingots, and return Filch's ingots in full."

Well, well, well. So this kid was playing the empty-handed wolf trick!

"Hey, don't look at me like that. You must be thinking I'm pulling the empty-handed wolf trick. Isn't that a lot like short-selling? It's just a financial method. How can financial matters be called pulling the empty-handed wolf trick?"

Dumbledore!!!

What a lazy excuse. He had not even changed his argument.

"Headmaster, try the teapot."

Dumbledore took a sip of the brewed tea. It was so sweet his throat tightened. This was exactly the taste.

"This teapot can turn magic power into sugar?"

"Of course not. Headmaster, you can think of it as an illusion or a powerful Confundus Charm. Its main purpose is protecting dental health."

Seeing Dumbledore's interest, Oren immediately named his price. "Not 998, not 888. For just two thousand Galleons, you can take it home today. What do you think?"

Oren rubbed his hands together like a fly.

Dumbledore took another sip of tea and decided to show Oren what it meant for an old hand to outdo a newcomer. He held up one finger.

Oren gritted his teeth. "Fine, one thousand Galleons will do."

Dumbledore wagged his finger. "I mean I'll write off the debt you owe Filch for the copper ingots."

As he spoke, he snatched up the teapot and began examining it in his hands.

"No, Headmaster, you can't do this! Aren't you just a bandit? You're worse than a bandit!"

"Ahem. How should I put this, child? You owe Filch copper ingots. I take this teapot and clear your debt for you. What is that called again? Ah, a financial method. How can financial matters be called banditry?"

Oren's mouth twitched. Fine, fine. The old ginger was still spicier. I concede defeat.

Seeing that he was about to suffer a massive loss, Oren gritted his teeth and, in a flash, appeared behind Fawkes. He plucked out a tail feather, grabbed the sack of copper ingots, and ran.

Fawkes: The old one and the young one were fighting, so why was I the one getting hurt?

As Oren walked toward Gryffindor Tower, he stuffed the copper ingots into his pockets one by one.

"Why aren't you lot back in your dorms at this hour? What are you doing gathered at the door, holding a turnip convention?"

"Hurry, Oren, stop them!" Hermione said anxiously. "They're going out at night! They'll lose all the points the two of us earned!"

"Malfoy challenged me to a duel," Harry said. "If we don't go, he'll laugh at us. You said we can't disgrace Gryffindor."

"You should've said so earlier." Oren pulled out a bundle of rope. "Come on, we're all going. The sooner we go, the sooner we get back."

He shoved the sack and rope into the bewildered Hermione's arms, while taking out a Luoyang shovel for himself.

"You two duel Malfoy normally. If you win, mock them mercilessly. However Snape usually insults you, insult them right back."

"If you lose, heh heh..."

Ron asked weakly, "What happens if we lose?"

"If you lose, I'll sack them and give them a little Gryffindor shock."

The three kids...

"And I hereby requisition you, little witch."

Oren casually placed a system-produced steel helmet on Hermione's head.

"Alright, let's go!"

Hermione glanced at the missing portrait of the Fat Lady, stomped her foot, and said, "I'm keeping an eye on you lot." Then she followed them.

Along the way, Hermione kept chattering that if anyone got her caught, she would use the Bat-Bogey Hex on them.

Inside the trophy room.

Oren idly fiddled with Fawkes's tail feather. "Didn't we agree on a duel? Where are they? My legs are going numb from squatting."

Ron analyzed, "Malfoy must be scared. He didn't dare come."

"Meow—" A cat cried out from the next room.

"Sniff around. They must be nearby."

Hearing Filch's voice, the four exchanged glances. Harry and Ron took off running, and Hermione grabbed Oren and followed.

Clang! Crash! Harry and Ron knocked over a row of suits of armor. The noise was loud enough to wake Dumbledore in his office.

The group ran wildly through the castle, and Oren felt as though they had already covered several miles.

The four stopped in a corridor. The other three were panting like dogs from exhaustion.

Oren complained, "Seriously? Are you guys that weak? You've only run a few miles and you're already this tired?"

Hermione shot Oren a glare, clutching the front of her robes. "I told you... Malfoy tricked you... He never intended to duel you... He must have tipped off Filch."

"That doesn't make sense," Oren said in confusion. "Was the book lying? Aren't pure-bloods supposed to care about honor? Malfoy actually played tricks over a duel!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "We need to get back to Gryffindor Tower."

They had barely taken a few steps before Peeves blocked their path.

Hermione pleaded desperately, "Please, Peeves, don't tell Filch! We'll be expelled!"

Oren's eyelids twitched wildly. This was the first time he had realized that this little witch was so... adaptable.

Peeves said, "I ought to tell Filch. It's for your own good."

"Get lost!" Ron punched Peeves.

"Students out of bed! In the Charms corridor!" Peeves shouted at the top of his lungs, if he had lungs.

The group fled for their lives again. Ron slapped desperately at the door in front of him, muttering over and over that they were finished.

Oren complained, "Seriously? Ron, you've been taking Charms for so long. Don't tell me you can't even cast the Unlocking Charm?"

Everyone...

"Alohomora!" Hermione fired an Unlocking Charm at the door, grabbed Oren, and dragged him into the room.

Hearing Filch and Peeves arguing outside before both of them left, the group breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why are you guys so scared of Filch? As long as I pull out Fawkes's feather, I guarantee he won't be able to take another step forward."

Oren showed off a red feather.

"Yeah, right." The little witch rolled her eyes. "Of course you'll be fine. The rest of us might not be."

Harry's hoarse voice rang out. "Um... maybe you should turn around..."

When they turned around, they saw a huge dog staring fixedly at them. Its three heads were nearly pressed against the faces of the three kids.

"Don't panic," Oren said calmly. "Look it in the eyes and back away slowly."

The three followed his instructions and retreated all the way to the door. Oren opened it and pushed them out one by one before leaving the room himself.

"How did you know how to deal with that... huge dog?" Hermione's face was pale, and her voice trembled.

Oren...

"I didn't. But they're all dogs, so they should be about the same, right?"

Ron swallowed. "What if we had failed just now?"

Oren spread his hands. "Doesn't matter. I still have nine ways to get you out. Nine!"

Harry nodded, thinking, As expected of big brother. He really is dependable.

"Come on, don't stand around here. Filch probably isn't far away. Let's get back to Gryffindor Tower."

The Fat Lady said angrily, "Where have you been?"

"Don't ask," Harry panted. "Pig snout!"

The moment the three entered the common room, they collapsed onto the sofa.

After a moment of silence, Ron asked, "Why is there a three-headed dog in the school?"

"Are your eyes just there for breathing?" Hermione snapped. "Didn't you see it standing on a trapdoor?"

Oren suggested, "Maybe Ron should get a pair of glasses too."

Ron...

Harry said, "I'm so tired. I feel like my whole body hurts."

Oren said, "Then aside from nobody loving you, everything else hurts."

Harry clutched his chest and collapsed on the sofa, the light gone from his eyes. This big brother was dependable, but he really loved stabbing people in the heart.

"And you!" Hermione transformed into an enraged beaver, pointing at Oren's nose as she prepared to unleash a verbal barrage.

Oren!!!