Nicolas Flamel

Outside Hagrid's hut, Ron said, "So what does Nicolas Flamel do? Hermione, do you know?"

"I don't know. Maybe we can look it up in the Library. Oh, right, Oren often goes into the Restricted Section. Maybe he knows."

Hermione poked Oren, who was staring blankly at the orange tree.

"Oren, do you know Nicolas Flamel?"

"Ah... I don't. I never remember names when I read." Oren answered with utterly unjustified confidence.

"Then what are you going to do about your History of Magic exam? You don't want to get a T, do you?!" The little witch was getting a little worked up.

"What? This is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If I were at a Muggle school, I'd definitely have to study history. But I came to a magic school and still have to memorize history by rote? Wouldn't that make going to school here pointless?"

Hermione...

"Of course, Hermione, your grades are good. Maybe you'll get Os in every subject, join the Ministry of Magic after graduation, become Minister for Magic, and reach the peak of your life."

"As for me, I'm already prepared to graduate and inherit the wealthy but dwindling Black family... Maybe I can even become some self-taught alchemist."

Oren gazed up at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle, looking somewhat melancholy.

Ron said nothing, but he felt as though a thick wall had risen between himself and the other three.

In his imagined future, Ron brought his son to visit those three. "Come on, little Ron. Bow to Lord Black, Lord Potter, and Minister Granger."

Hermione's voice broke Ron out of his fantasy.

"But you can't be like this. You should at least learn a little, even just a little. You can't seriously get a T, can you? It wouldn't sound good for Young Master Black to get a T in History of Magic."

Hermione had figured it out. There was no point trying to reason with Oren; she had to coax him instead.

"Hmm... You make a fair point, little witch. I'll go back and think it over carefully." Oren stroked his nonexistent beard.

The three little ones...

By mid-December, nothing much had happened apart from the Weasley twins using enchanted snowballs to hit Quirrell in the head.

The four walked through the castle corridors.

"Achoo!"

"What's wrong with you, Oren?" Harry looked at him in confusion.

"What else could it be? I haven't slept. I've been doing alchemy in the headmaster's office these past few days." Oren answered carelessly.

"What kind of alchemy?" Ron asked curiously.

"What else? I'm preparing Christmas presents for the three of you, of course."

What Oren was really thinking was: What else? I'm practicing alchemy. The Christmas presents are just a convenient bonus.

"I... I get one too?" Hermione pointed at the brooch on her chest and stared at Oren in disbelief.

"Of course. It's just a brooch. What's so surprising about that? You should have faith in the financial power of those Nifflers in the Forbidden Forest."

Hermione...

That really was so like Oren. He could spend other people's money and still sound completely righteous about it.

"Tap, tap, tap." Draco approached Harry with his two lackeys in tow. "I feel sorry for you, because his family doesn't want him..."

Before he could finish, Draco spotted Oren. As if he had seen Peeves, he immediately turned and left.

"Hey, Draco, wait."

Draco paused for a moment, then ran even faster.

"Am I really that scary?" Oren lowered his outstretched hand and adjusted his top hat with a puzzled expression.

The three little ones said, "Not scary. Not scary at all."

What the three little ones were thinking was: Once Oren put on that top hat and monocle, it meant he was about to fleece someone. They would not be the slightest bit surprised if he turned Malfoy into a pauper the next second.

Thinking of the twins, who had been relentlessly exploited lately and spent every day exhausted, gritting their teeth through pain and joy alike, the three shuddered in unison.

Ron felt that the Galleons his two brothers earned from Oren did not seem quite so appealing anymore.

"Rustle, rustle, rustle." In the distance, Hagrid dragged a fir tree toward them.

"Hagrid, I'll help." Oren ran over and effortlessly hoisted the crown of the fir tree onto his shoulder.

"Harry, remind me never to provoke Oren."

Harry glanced at Ron, and his eyes seemed to say, Same here.

The group slowly made their way toward the Great Hall. Hagrid said cheerfully, "Come on, let's go to the Great Hall together. It's already been decorated for Christmas."

Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were decorating the Great Hall.

"Oh, Hagrid and Oren, just put the last tree over in that corner."

Once the two had set down the fir tree, Professor McGonagall walked over, ruffled Oren's hair, stuffed several sweets into his hand, and left.

Hagrid clapped his hands. "Only a few days until the holidays."

"One more day. Dinner isn't for another half hour. We should go to the Library."

The little witch rubbed the dark circles under her eyes. Ever since she had failed to find anything about Nicolas Flamel in the books, she had become utterly fixated on him.

She had been reading more and more books. What occupied her thoughts by day haunted her dreams by night. Including tonight, she had had nightmares for three nights in a row, dreaming of flying books chasing her down and beating her.

"Sigh..." Harry and Ron let out a long sigh. They felt that they had finished all the books they would ever read in their lives over the past few days.

Oren had it easiest. At the Library, he either flipped through Hermione's History of Magic notes, enjoyed watching Harry and Ron suffer through books, or occasionally played porter and kept piling more work onto them.

Hagrid said, "Aren't you lot working a little too hard? The holidays are almost here."

"We're not revising. We're trying to find out who Nicolas Flamel is," Harry replied listlessly.

"Give it up! Those things have nothing to do with you!" Hagrid looked somewhat alarmed.

"We just want to know what Nicolas Flamel does. Nothing else." The little witch smoothed her bushy hair.

Hagrid simply covered his mouth, afraid that he might say something he should not.

Ron said lifelessly, "Sigh... Looks like we can only keep looking ourselves."

After saying goodbye to Hagrid, they headed for the Library. Hermione took out a long list, sighed, and crossed off the books she had already checked. She did not want to sleep at home over the holidays, only to suddenly start twisting, screaming, rolling around, and crawling in the dark in the middle of a peaceful night.

"Ah... My life is over." Harry took one look at the list, his vision went dark, and he let out an unwilling wail.

"No shouting near the Library. Gryffindor loses one point." Snape then glanced at Oren. "Mr. Black, do you find this amusing? Gryffindor loses another point."

Oren???

Without giving Oren a chance to retaliate, Snape turned and vanished around the corner.

The three little ones had gradually grown used to Snape deducting points for no reason. Like zombies, they shuffled into the Library.

"Look, Hermione. This Five-Footed thing is really disgusting." Oren held up a book from the Restricted Section and showed it to the little witch.

Hermione slumped in her seat with lifeless eyes. Her ears began to hallucinate: Ding! Congratulations, your nightmare package order has been successfully placed. This is a brand-new version you have never experienced before, and it will be delivered promptly at midnight.

Twenty minutes later, the group left the Library looking utterly drained, except for Oren.

"Hermione, maybe you could ask your parents. What if they know?" Ron said.

"They're dentists. Dentists!" The little witch rolled her eyes at Ron.

Ron looked at Oren again.

Oren???

"What? Where am I supposed to ask my parents? Why don't you go ask them instead? Though the process might be a little unpleasant."

Ron blankly accepted a bundle of rope and fell into a daze.

"Let's leave it at that. While I'm gone, you can keep looking. If you find anything, remember to send me an owl."

The little witch waved goodbye to them. She decided that she could skip dinner, but she absolutely had to sleep first and use up today's nightmare package.

Once the holidays began, before Harry and Ron could figure out how to have some fun, Oren drafted them into labor.

In the Forbidden Forest...

"Oh my God, Oren, are you sure this is a Niffler nest?" Harry stared at him in bewilderment.

Oren tossed aside the Luoyang shovel and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. Even with his nerve, he could tell that something was clearly wrong.

This was no Niffler nest. It was practically a defensive fortification. He and Harry had dug almost three meters of tunnel before they finally saw the Nifflers' treasure.

"Ron, can you hear Hagrid or Fang anywhere nearby?" Harry asked uneasily, looking at Ron, who was keeping watch.

"No!" It was Ron's first time joining one of Oren's money-making operations, and he looked extremely excited.

"Come on. There's another Niffler nest nearby. This time, you and Ron dig. I'll keep watch and take a break."

Under cover of darkness, the three little dirt-covered figures slipped into the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Quick, quick, Harry! Go borrow the twins' scale. We're going to weigh the loot and divide the gold!"

George approached while rubbing his nose, then handed Oren a book. "The book you ordered at noon. Also, can you keep that owl of yours, Mige, under control? It flew like a Bludger and smashed right into my nose."

Oren began reading the book, completely ignoring George and his red nose.

George...

Watching Ron excitedly begin weighing the pile of miscellaneous junk, George only wanted to roll his eyes. Fred and he had long since stopped doing this kind of labor-intensive work of raiding Niffler nests.

"What book are you reading, Oren?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's about underground defensive fortifications. The Nifflers have upgraded their nest-building methods, so our digging techniques need an upgrade too."

Harry...