Overloaded CPU and a Shattered Understanding of Magic

"Coo, coo, coo."

Oren complained, "You came out to catch people without eating? How many Galleons does Percy pay you a month?"

The young witch blushed furiously and turned her head away.

"Fine, take this and eat."

Oren pulled out instant noodles, sausages, chili sauce, and bottled water.

Hermione asked curiously, "Why do you carry so much food around with you?"

"Better safe than sorry." Oren rolled his eyes.

What else could he say? This unreliable grocery store system only had this one function. Sometimes, he even wanted to ask Dumbledore for permission to open a convenience store.

"Hermione, how did you find me?"

The young witch rolled her eyes. While slurping noodles, she told Oren how she had painstakingly followed the clues to track him down.

"Tsk, what a talent for detective work. Becoming a witch is really wasting your potential."

Hermione...

"Oren, slurp slurp~ Why were you drinking so much whiskey instead of watching the moon from the Astronomy Tower?"

"The Mid-Autumn Festival is all about reunion. Why was I drinking whiskey? It wasn't like I could stab myself and reunite with them."

Oren grumbled inwardly: If I didn't drink and wallow in melancholy, what else was I supposed to do? Go back through time? Smash my head into a wall and force my way back?

"Uh... well... sorry." The young witch looked rather at a loss.

"It's fine." Oren waved a hand to show he did not care. "I'm used to being alone anyway."

"Coo, coo, coo."

Oren...

"You're still not full? Didn't expect such a little witch to eat so much. I mean, I still have two pies here."

Hermione took the pies and stamped her foot. "What do you mean, eat so much! I skipped both lunch and dinner, so of course I'm hungry!"

Watching Hermione bite into a beef kidney pie made Oren feel a little nauseous.

Five minutes later~

Oren cracked open the door and peeked outside. "Are you done eating? Filch should be far away by now. We'll sneak back to the tower. No talking."

They had not gone far when they heard a set of footsteps around a corner.

Oren!!!

Hermione!!!

Dumbledore!!!

Hermione: Well, that's it. This little witch is probably getting expelled today.

"Oh, it's you, Headmaster. Taking a midnight stroll? You scared me—I thought you were Professor McGonagall." Oren reeked of alcohol.

Dumbledore, whose beard was covered in candy crumbs, said, "I thought it was Minerva too."

"Oh~ I get it. You were sneaking candy, weren't you?"

"Child, weren't you also taking a classmate out for a nighttime stroll?" Dumbledore winked at Hermione.

"What do you mean, taking a classmate out for a nighttime stroll?! This Detective Hermione tracked down the clues to catch me wandering around at night."

"Such a student who cares so much about her classmates—wouldn't you feel bad if you didn't give her some points?"

"Then... one point for Gryffindor?"

Oren nodded in satisfaction. Hermione's CPU had already burned out; she could not make sense of Oren's operation at all.

"Headmaster, meeting in the dead of night is fate. I've got mystery boxes of alcohol here—red, white, and yellow, all depending on your luck. Two Galleons only. No scams, no regrets."

"What do you say? Headmaster, wouldn't you consider having a drink tonight?"

Oren took several bulging kraft paper bags from his pocket.

"You've convinced me, child." Dumbledore handed Oren two Galleons and casually picked up a paper bag.

Oren said, "Ah~ pear wine. Headmaster, you have pretty good luck."

Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction as well. "All right, children, hurry back and sleep. It's late, and you still have class tomorrow."

"All right, Headmaster Dumbledore." Oren dragged the CPU-overloaded Hermione away.

Watching their retreating backs, Dumbledore popped a Sour Exploding Candy into his mouth and muttered to himself.

"Mmm... a little sweet."

On the way back to Gryffindor Tower, the young witch's brain finally resumed functioning.

"Oren, you... Headmaster Dumbledore, he..."

"I know what you want to say. Don't worry, I didn't lose money. I only made a few Sickles... You can think of it as about three pounds."

"No, I mean..."

"All right, all right, don't say anything. Go back to the dorm and sleep. Everything exists in dreams."

After pushing the young witch into the entrance to the girls' dormitory, Oren leisurely went back to sleep.

Over the following days, besides competing with Hermione in class like two top students, Oren tinkered with alchemy experiments and researched magic. In the blink of an eye, it was Halloween Eve.

In the washroom, Oren splashed some water on his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, he could not help sighing.

"Ah~" He tied up his hair. Hmm... it still did not look any better.

Oren thought: Forget it. Stop thinking about depressing things. System! Sign in!

Congratulations! You have obtained the skill Chinese Proficiency.

"I'll **** your ****.— —. .—. — —. —.."

Oren opened his mouth and unleashed a stream of foul language, one beautiful phrase after another pouring out as though they cost nothing.

Bang bang bang! Harry knocked on the door. "Hurry up, Oren! We're almost late!"

"I'm coming!" Oren shoved the hairpin into his hair and rushed frantically toward the classroom with his roommates.

In the Charms classroom, Hermione looked at the note in Oren's hand and asked,

"What is this? What language is this written in?"

"Nothing. Just a teasing little note from some Ravenclaw upperclassman."

"Hmph~ Stop reading it. You haven't finished Professor Flitwick's class assignment."

"All right, all right." Oren mischievously decided to tease Hermione. He waved his wand at random, recited an utterly nonsensical incantation, and cast the spell at a feather.

"Oh no! Stop! You said the spell wrong! You'll summon a buffalo!"

The feather slowly rose into the air. Crack! The sound of glass shattering—Hermione's understanding of magic had shattered.

"How is this possible?! No, impossible! Absolutely impossible!" The young witch tugged at her hair and fell into a daze.

"Excellent wandless, nonverbal casting," Professor Flitwick said. "Five points to Gryffindor."

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron swung his arm like a windmill.

Hermione said bluntly, "It's Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa. You need to make the 'gar' nice and long and clear."

"Hmph~ Then why don't you try it? Give me a demonstration."

Hermione waved her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather successfully floated up and flew beside Oren's feather.

"Well done," Professor Flitwick said. "Miss Granger has succeeded as well. Three points to Gryffindor."

"Hmph~" Ron still refused to admit defeat. "Oren said a different spell from you, and he succeeded too, didn't he?"

Wasn't his big brother much more reliable than Hermione? Copying Oren, Ron waved his wand and chanted a spell.

Hermione cried out, "Stop! Were you even listening to Professor Flitwick?"

Crash! A buffalo appeared in the classroom.

Ron: Who am I? Where am I? Why did a buffalo step on me?

Oren: Apparently, I still hadn't understood the extent of Gryffindor's hardheadedness...

"Don't worry, Professor Flitwick. Ron's fine. He's still breathing. He was only lightly stepped on."

Oren immediately began seeking benefits for his farming partner.

"Professor Flitwick, I think Hagrid should handle this cow. There's probably nobody in all of Hogwarts who knows better how to deal with animals like this."

Professor Flitwick nodded. "A fine suggestion."

Before long, a bewildered Hagrid led the buffalo away, while an equally bewildered Ron sat blankly in his chair.

Professor Flitwick said, "Unfortunately, because of Mr. Weasley's incorrect casting, I must deduct ten... eight points from Gryffindor."

The young witch looked at Ron with utter resentment in her eyes.

As soon as class ended, Oren was carried off to a corridor corner by the twins, who had been lying in wait.

Ron said to Harry, "No wonder even her roommates can't stand her. She's a total nightmare."

Hearing that, Hermione immediately gave them both a Beaver Charge.

Rubbing his shoulder, Harry said, "I think she heard that."

"So what?" Ron said disdainfully. "Other than Oren, her mortal enemy, she doesn't even have a single friend."

Oren said, "No, why were you two waiting for me?"

Fred said, "Well, those brooches you made—how much are they each? We want to buy two for our mum and sister."

Oren patted the twins on the shoulders. "You really are filial children and wonderful big brothers who care for your sister."

The twins: That was praise, right? Why does it feel a little off?

"Since we're all so familiar with one another, and you're so devoted to your family, I won't ask for much. How about three thousand Galleons per brooch?"

The twins sucked in a sharp breath. "Oren, why don't you just rob us?"

"How can that be called robbery? The brooches are made with genuine materials—gold and silver."

The twins' eyes unconsciously drifted toward Ron's retreating back in the distance.

"All right, stop exploiting Ron. He isn't worth that much. Of course, there is another way."

"So, Oren, what's the price?" ×2

"Ahem. I've recently become very interested in the prank props you make. How about you work as my experiment assistants in exchange for two brooches?"

"Deal!" ×2

The two of them carried Oren off again and jogged all the way to their secret base.

"Get started, Oren." George looked like a demanding client.

Fred, meanwhile, wrote down all sorts of requirements on parchment.

Oren: Fine, fine, that's how we're playing this? Just wait until I squeeze you two like house-elves.

George said, "What kind of pattern is this? It's crooked beyond belief!"

Fred said, "Oren, open your big eyes and take a proper look! Do those gemstone colors even match?"

George said, "Where's the openwork? Where is it? Is this how you brush off customers?"

Fred said, "Why didn't you outline the pattern with silver thread? With all that glittering gold, who can even see the pattern? What was the point of carving it?"

Oren...

"All right, it's finished. Are the two esteemed customers satisfied now?"

The twins nodded. "It's passable. Since it's done, we'll be leaving first."

"Heh heh~ You think you can leave after acting so arrogantly? It's time to fulfill your promise and become house-elves—I mean, experiment assistants."

"Cackle cackle cackle~ Let me begin a great potion experiment."

Fred wiped cold sweat from his forehead. "Um, Oren, tonight is the Halloween feast."

George echoed, "Right, right, right. How about we go take a look at the Great Hall first? After all, it's your first Halloween feast at Hogwarts."

Oren sneered. "No rush, no rush. Good food is worth waiting for. Come on, let's finish the experiment first. It won't be too late to go afterward."

The twins exchanged a look: We're done for. There's no escaping this.