Firebolt

"I need to tidy up. My godfather Sirius Black is about to be exonerated, and he could come looking for me at any moment." Harry hurriedly tidied up the clutter in his dormitory.

Oren nodded and said, "Judging from your presentable appearance, what you say makes sense."

"But Harry, don't be too anxious. The newspaper that published Sirius Black's exoneration hasn't been distributed yet," Ron said, rubbing his eyes after being woken up.

After calming down, Harry suggested, "Let's open our Christmas presents instead."

Oren rolled her eyes at him and said, "What's so interesting about all this candy? Come and see the Christmas presents I've prepared for you; they're definitely more exciting."

Oren handed the two cans of food to the two men, Ron asked in confusion, "What are these things?"

"I call it the Hero Can," Oren explained. "You can eat the can as long as you beat it."

"What if you lose?" ✖2

The two little ones took a half step back in unison, becoming somewhat wary of this strange thing.

Oren shrugged and said, "If you lose, you'll get a beating from the canned food."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than two cans leaped up and flew straight at the two little ones' faces.

Harry and Ron, who were prepared, and an old lady hid under the covers to avoid the attack. The can, having lost its target, fell to the ground and quietly waited for the next lucky one to approach.

"Phew~" Harry said with lingering fear, "That Oren thing is way too dangerous!"

Ron chimed in, "If we got hit, I feel like Harry and I would be getting a private Hospital Wing."

"Not at all, not at all," Oren explained. "Those with spell buffers won't feel pain; at most, they'll be knocked back. Except for that can of food given to Headmaster Dumbledore, everything else has this kind of protection."

As for being knocked away and landing on his butt, that's not something Oren is considering.

Harry: "Are you sure Headmaster Dumbledore won't be ambushed by this can of food?"

Oren waved his hand dismissively. "That's impossible. The greatest white wizard of this century can't be ambushed."

"That's true," Harry agreed. "You don't still have anything as dangerous as Oren, do you?"

"That's all," Oren waved his hand. "The twins said my canned goods weren't good and lacked creativity, so I gave them the remaining twenty-odd cans as Christmas presents."

Ron: "Merlin protect them."

"Ron, you have to believe in their abilities," Oren said confidently. "Those two pranksters, how could they be fooled by such a simple prank?"

The twins are dying of laughter: Right now, these two brothers are being hit by a combo of more than twenty cans of food, being knocked flying without ever landing.

Eight owls knocked on the dormitory window with two large packages. Harry ran to open the window and one package landed in front of Harry and the other in front of Oren.

Oren said, "Harry, you open yours first and check if it's a prank before I open mine."

Harry's lips twitched as he opened the package.

"Wow!" Ron exclaimed in surprise, "That's Firebolt! I never thought I'd get my hands on a flying broom of this caliber!"

Harry stared blankly at the Firebolt for a while before he reacted and said, "Oren, quickly open the package and see what's inside?"

"What package?" Hermione asked, carrying Crookshanks into the room.

Ron: "Hermione, what are you doing in our dorm room?"

Crookshanks looked at the three of them with a hint of disdain and contempt, especially at Ron, whose cat-like face was full of disgust when Crookshanks looked at him.

"Oren, it seems like we've been looked down upon by Crookshanks," Harry said uncertainly.

"Probably, maybe all cats are like that," Oren, opening the package.

Then his face turned as black as his surname, and if this were the 17th or 18th century, he might even be forced to harvest cotton.

Just before Oren's face darkened to the point of almost reflecting light, Hermione asked with concern, "Who sent this?"

His tone was full of concern and righteous indignation, but he couldn't suppress the upturned corners of his mouth.

"Hiss~" Ron gasped. "What the hell is this? A skirt?"

"It's so Winky and dazzling, it can't be cheap," Harry analyzed. "The same packaging means it was delivered from the same place as my Firebolt."

Ron: "Could it be Snape?"

"No," Oren said, his face darkening, pointing to the pile of gifts. "These are from Snape, or maybe hair clips?"

Harry: "There was no card or any message in the gift. Could it be from Dumbledore?"

Oren: "No, it's not that simple. It would be difficult for Headmaster Dumbledore to generate so many gold coins at once."

"To be able to drop so many gold coins so stealthily without leaving any trace, I bet only Sirius Black could do it."

"Maybe he just glanced at us from afar and didn't know you weren't the little witch," Harry explained, forcing a smile. There was no other way Oren was already sharpening his knife.

He was still muttering to himself, "What? He cut him in half and then minced him, leaving not a single bit of fat."

Oren stared dangerously at Harry, Hermione advised, "Alright, Oren, maybe you shouldn't keep your hair long."

Oren sighed, took out a small mirror, and looked at himself. Indeed, his current demeanor no longer suited this hairstyle.

"Okay, I'll get a short haircut sometime."

"Let's go to Crookshanks, we're going to the Great Hall," Hermione said, patting the cat's head. "Stop giving them those disdainful looks; they don't want to live with Peter Pettigrew for so long."

Harry and Ron's faces darkened, while Oren breathed a sigh of relief; even if they were forced to collect cotton, it would be three people together.

Besides the professors, there were only a few students in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore rubbed his red nose and said, "Merry Christmas, everyone. Now, let me begin my meal."

Hermione muttered to herself, "What's wrong with Headmaster Dumbledore's nose?"

"It seems our greatest white wizard of this century has been ambushed," Oren remarked.

The little witch stared at Oren with dead fish eyes and said, "That broken can of yours gave Crookshanks a fright."

Oren shrugged indifferently.

Ron: "These potatoes taste a bit strange, like the Siberia cherry blossom flavored potatoes from Oren."

"Because I grew these," Oren explained. "Consider it a Christmas present for the headmaster, considering how much food Hogwarts consumes every day."

"The school's storeroom was also out of food, so I took all the crops to Headmaster Dumbledore."

The three little ones...

After eating and drinking his fill, Oren strolled back to the Headmaster's Office with Dumbledore, lit a fire, placed a cauldron on it, and prepared to study the Wolfsbane Potion further.

Has the Ministry of Magic searched for Death Eaters?

Dumbledore watched as Oren tossed the entire silver ingot into the cauldron, his eyelids twitching with anticipation.

"They searched the area and actually caught three Death Eaters were well hidden."

"They actually caught them?" Oren asked in surprise. "Who are they? Are they high-ranking members of the Death Eaters?"

Dumbledore shrugged and said, "Don't ask anymore, they've all run away."

"What the hell? They caught three and they all got away?" Oren picked at his ear in disbelief.

Dumbledore stated definitively, "They've all escaped."

Oren sneered, "Looks like it was really the right thing to do to save face for Peter Pettigrew, otherwise those people at the Ministry of Magic wouldn't have been able to lock him up for more than a few days."