All-Terrain Bread Machine

Harry had become quite famous in the days before term started. From the basement to the top of the tower, practically everyone at Hogwarts knew about the flying car returning to school.

Inside the Great Hall, hundreds of owls flew in. Hermione effortlessly dodged Mige's dive-bombing, with a proficiency that was almost heartbreaking.

With a loud bang, the Weasley family owl, Errol, crashed into Ron's orange juice jug.

"Ron, talk to Mrs. Molly and buy another owl," Oren urged. "I swear, if this guy flies a few more times, he'll be breathing his last."

"I'll talk to her." Ron fished Errol out of the orange juice jug. "Oh! No!"

A red letter jumped onto the table. Oren swiftly pulled out a pair of earplugs, but Hermione snatched them away without a second thought. She had no idea what was happening, but grabbing them first had to be the right move.

Oren froze for a second, then took out another pair of earplugs. Ron reluctantly opened the red letter.

Though they had no idea what the letter said, the dust falling from the Great Hall ceiling and the constantly rattling plates proved that it was shouting very loudly.

Ron slumped lifelessly in his chair, while Harry wore a guilty expression.

Hermione asked, "Why are you looking at us like that?"

At that moment, Oren's gaze swept across the three of them as though he were selecting victims.

The same thought flashed through all three of their minds. Something's wrong! I need to run.

In the end, Oren proved the more skilled one. None of them managed to escape.

Dragged to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry took out a photo of his parents and looked at it, lamenting inwardly, I hope I can come back alive from Oren's clutches.

"Who are the people in this photo?" Oren asked.

Harry replied, "My parents."

Oren remembered. Slapping his thigh, he recalled it all. The reason Snape targeted Harry seemed to have something to do with his mother. Looking at the red-haired woman in the photo, Oren sighed inwardly, Chancellor, I think I'm beginning to understand.

"Alright, stop looking like you're attending a funeral," Oren lectured. "I only called you here to help move some things. Don't overthink it. It's just manual labor."

The three of them frowned even harder.

Ron levitated a chunk of scrap metal and asked, "Oren, what are you doing with so much junk?"

"Well, I was planning to learn from Mr. Arthur. I'm going to build myself a car too." Oren threw a fuel tank heavily onto the ground.

Before long, a small mountain of scrap metal stood in the clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"All of this was painstakingly collected for me by Hagrid," Oren said. "Once I build the car, I'll definitely take you all for a ride."

"No need. Absolutely no need." The three of them hurriedly refused. Barring an accident, they would never ride in Oren's car for the rest of their lives.

Hermione said, "Come on, we still have Herbology."

Together with the other young wizards, they stood in front of the Greenhouse and waited for Professor Sprout.

She arrived carrying a roll of bandages alongside the peacock-like Lockhart.

Harry pointed at the Whomping Willow in the distance. "Look."

"I never expected the treatment method to be wrapping it in bandages," Oren said. "It's my first time seeing a tree mummy."

Hermione glared at Oren. "Whose fault do you think that is?"

Oren immediately retorted, "You can question my spells, but you can't question my driving skills. If Ron had been driving, he'd have snapped the Whomping Willow in half already."

Ron, who had just been dragged into this, was speechless.

"Hello, everyone!" Lockhart called. "I was just demonstrating to Professor Sprout how to treat a Whomping Willow. During my travels, I happened to encounter several magical plants."

It was Oren's first time seeing a murderous expression on gentle Professor Sprout's face.

Sprout said, "Today's lesson will be in Greenhouse Three."

At the entrance to the Greenhouse, Oren patted the dirt off himself and said, "I thought it would be harder. Isn't it just repotting Mandrakes?"

A young witch shot him a challenging look. "Some people thought Mandrakes were giant ginseng roots at first glance."

Ron rolled his eyes at the bickering pair. "Harry, what did Lockhart call you out for?"

Harry sighed. "He thought I was addicted to fame, so I took the flying car back to Hogwarts. Then he started teaching me all these tricks for becoming famous."

"We couldn't get through the barrier at the station, alright? This is so unfair."

Oren was speechless.

"Harry, you're famous enough already. If you get any more famous, Death Eaters might come assassinate you every year."

Harry was speechless.

"You should keep a lower profile," Oren advised. "By the way, you have time next, right?"

The three of them exchanged glances and scattered in different directions. Harry and Ron had a clear advantage over Hermione in physical fitness.

"Blame your own lack of stamina," Oren said. "Look, didn't Harry and Ron escape successfully?"

Hermione said nothing. She only stared resentfully in the direction Harry and Ron had fled.

Clang, clang, clang. Waves of metallic banging came from the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Phew, finished!" Oren wiped away his sweat.

Hermione stared at the vehicle before her, the corner of her mouth twitching wildly.

"Well, Hermione? Isn't this car beautiful?"

"Heh. Beautiful? Are you sure this isn't a giant bread machine with five pairs of wheels? Do all these wheels actually do anything?"

"Hermione, you don't understand. Bigger is better, and more is beautiful."

Hermione was speechless.

"Don't just stand there, Hermione. Go fill the car with fuel."

Hermione reluctantly picked up the fuel can, muttering, "Why does it need fuel? Can't it use magic?"

"Oren, is this right? I've already poured in three cans of fuel. Why isn't it full yet?" The young witch wiped the mixture of oil and grime from her face with a handkerchief. The original two-centimeter stain successfully spread across half her face.

"That shouldn't be happening. Let me see. Could the fuel tank be connected to some subspace?" Oren carefully inspected it. "It's fine. The fuel tank is leaking. I'll just fix it."

Hermione was speechless.

"Alright, vehicle, start!"

The car began moving, circling around the small clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Well, Hermione? It's running pretty well, isn't it?"

"Mm-hm. If we ignore the constantly shaking body and the parts that fall off every now and then, I can only say that at least it moves."

Hermione suddenly realized something and asked in confusion, "Doesn't it need a driver?"

Oren smiled confidently. "This has magical intelligence. It can also be controlled."

He pulled a toy car remote from his pocket and began fiddling with it. Then the confident smile vanished from Oren's face.

"What's wrong, Oren? Is something wrong?"

"It seems like it might, perhaps, maybe, probably be out of control."

Hermione was horrified.

"Vrooom, vrooom, vrooom!" The car spewed thick exhaust and charged through the trees like an enraged bull, snapping them one after another.

Oren's CPU whirred at high speed as he considered why this had happened.

The Acromantula soul probably had not been cleaned up properly. Realizing this, Oren slapped his thigh in regret.

"What do we do now?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Stop it quickly! If it charges into the castle, our House points will evaporate!"

"Oren, should we hurry to the headmaster's office and get Dumbledore?"

"I know you're in a hurry, but don't panic yet. I'm already calling him." Oren pulled out a phoenix feather and began summoning help.

A flash of fire appeared, and Dumbledore asked anxiously, "What happened? What is going on?"

"Quick, Headmaster! I found a wild car wrecking things at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Please stop it!"

Dumbledore's eyelids twitched wildly as he looked at the multi-wheeled bread machine in the distance. With a wave of his wand, a violent gale scooped up the car and flung it deep into the Forbidden Forest.

Dumbledore folded his arms. "Wild? Child, you made that, didn't you?"

The young witch hunched her neck, lowered her head, and fiddled with the hem of her clothes, looking completely guilty without saying a word.

Oren spoke without blushing or skipping a beat. "Headmaster, you are truly extraordinary. You saw through the truth at once. Your magical power grows more profound by the day. If I had handled it myself, it would have been easy."

"Child, were you conducting an experiment?"

"Ahem, Headmaster, you know how it is. Things with a bit of intelligence sometimes become displeased in spirit."

Dumbledore's eyelids began twitching even harder. This was only an experiment, yet it had caused such a commotion. He did not dare imagine how fierce the final product would be.

"I'm confiscating that huge pile of copper ingots," Dumbledore said mercilessly.

"No!" Oren began hallucinating, hearing music around him: Snowflakes drift, the north wind howls...

After casting Scourgify on the two of them, Dumbledore left.

In Gryffindor Tower, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. At least the headmaster had not deducted points from Gryffindor. She led the listless Oren over to sit beside Harry.

"What happened to him?" Ron asked curiously.

"Don't mention it," Hermione said. "Something Oren made nearly tore apart the Forbidden Forest."

"Cool." ×2

Under Hermione's murderous glare, the two swallowed the questions they wanted to ask.

Mige the owl landed beside Oren with a letter in its beak.

Oren read the envelope and instantly perked up. "Heh, Snape actually dared to provoke me. Heat up a cup of orange juice for me. I'm going to use Warm Orange Juice Strike Snape."

The three of them were speechless.

Harry asked, "Do you think he can come back?"

"He probably can... right?" Hermione said.

In an empty classroom downstairs, Oren only had time to raise a middle finger before losing consciousness.

Having finally avenged his humiliation, Snape thought, As expected, the potion for paralyzing fire dragons works quite well.

Ron ran over to Harry and Hermione. "Oren's back!"

"Where? Where?" Harry asked.

"He came back lying down."

Hermione was speechless.

"Hey, wake up," Harry said mischievously. "Congratulations, you've become a girl."

Ron muttered quietly, "Why would he need to become one? Just change his hairstyle."

"Ah—fuck!" Oren bolted upright from his near-death state.

"How did you come back lying down?" Hermione asked.

"Damn Snape. He has no sense of fair play. Traditional duels are supposed to stop at the right point, but that bastard secretly used potions. He cheated! He ambushed me! A young wizard!"

Overcome with rage, Oren fainted again.

"Snape really is that shameless," Ron said.

"When will I get to have a go at Snape too?" Harry asked.

"Um... I think we should take him to the hospital wing," Hermione said.

It was nearly curfew by the time Madam Pomfrey let Oren return.

After returning to the dormitory, he gathered some materials, headed to the headmaster's office, and began crafting an alchemical item, looking determined to forge a set of Anti-Snape Armor.

"Child, how about taking a break?" Dumbledore asked cautiously.

"No rush. It's almost done. Hehehe~"

Dumbledore was speechless.