Heterochromatic-Eyed Old Man

The little witch crossed her arms over her chest, looking like she was on a hunger strike.

"Oren! House-elf are intelligent too; we cannot enslave them using the privileges of wizards."

"Yeah, right!" Oren slapped his thigh in regret. "With my privileges, I could have just gone to the kitchen to order! I've suffered for three years for nothing! I regret it so much!"

"Hermione... Ah~ what you say is truly invaluable, better than raising a pig for ten years!"

Hermione...

Good heavens, instead of being persuaded, they've only gotten worse.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, what would you like to eat tomorrow? I'll order for you."

Ron: "Really? I want to eat Stargazy Pie!"

Harry: "Huh? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure!" Ron nodded. "Mom mentioned it, but I've never seen her do it before. I want to give it a try."

"Hesitation, try and die," Oren scribbled on a piece of parchment. "Harry, what about you?"

Harry, seeing Hermione's fiery glare, said, "I'll pass."

After the Sorting Ceremony concluded, Dumbledore loudly announced that dinner was served.

Oren picked up a piece of roast meat with his chopsticks and waved it in front of Hermione.

"You really won't eat?"

Hermione humphed.

Ron: "Is she under some kind of Confundus Charm?"

Oren shook his head and said, "She's fallen for Muggle. Those guys talk about principles, but all they care about is business. If Muggle knew about House-elf..."

"The first thing I did was figure out how to wipe out their entire clan in a game of Candy Crush."

Oren placed the steak in front of Hermione again and said.

"The Wizarding World has been using House-elf for hundreds of years; it won't change just because a little witch starved to death."

"Changes must be made gradually; taking too big a step can lead to trouble. Although this may not be the most appropriate way to put it, you should understand what I mean."

The little witch reluctantly forked the steak and started gnawing on it.

Ron: "But she still ate it, didn't she?"

"I'm criticizing eating," Hermione retorted.

"Ah, yes, yes, yes" 3

Hermione had only finished criticizing half of her meal when it was over.

Dumbledore stood up and announced, "There will be no Quidditch Match at Hogwarts this year."

Everyone responded with an "Oh~" (disappointed).

Dumbledore: "Because we're going to have the Triwizard Tournament!"

Everyone exclaimed in surprise!

Amidst the sound of thunder, a person walked into the Great Hall.

The man had one large fake eye and one small real eye, making him uniquely ugly.

Dumbledore: "This is our Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for this year, Moody."

Ron whispered to the three, "It's said that he filled half of Azkaban."

Harry nodded and said, "Looks like our Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor isn't a slacker this year."

Oren looked at Hermione's blank face and said, "If you're still hungry, you can call Kreacher when you get back to your dorm. Oh, and by the way, you can't enslave House-elf, you'll have to pay for it, consider it takeout."

Hermione then came to her senses. She was holding a fork with a small piece of pie still stuck in it. Her cutlery had long since disappeared. She didn't know whether to put it away or hide it.

Oren rolled his eyes, grabbed the fork and half a pie, and threw them under the table. A flash of blue flame and nothing was left.

No one noticed Oren's little trick, except for Dumbledore, who seemed to have been pricked hard in the buttocks by a nail that suddenly appeared on the chair.

Dumbledore began to introduce the Triwizard Tournament, Harry and Ron whispered to each other, while Fred and George shouted excitedly.

Oren and Hermione began discussing the Sorting Hat.

"I've got the Slytherin's Locket and the Ravenclaw's Diadem, how am I supposed to trick the Sorting Hat into giving me the Gryffindor's Sword?"

Hermione suggested, "Perhaps you could make a Sorting Hat to analyze it."

"It's impossible," Oren shook his head and said, "That old hat isn't as dirty and tattered as it looks; it would be very difficult to perfectly recreate it."

Hermione shrugged and said, "Well, there's nothing I can do about it. What can I do? I'm just an ordinary witch."

Oren...

After eating and drinking his fill, Oren strolled over to Snape's Office to prepare for their annual tradition: a duel with the old bat.

"Professor Snape, I've come to you to resolve..." Oren stared blankly at the doorknob in his hand, then at the pile of wreckage behind him.

"I just broke down the door? I didn't even use any force!"

While Oren was still confused, Snape stood up with a stern face and left the office.

He walked quite a distance before glancing back, and when he realized Oren hadn't followed, he wiped a cold sweat from his brow.

To guard against Oren, that little Troll, Snape had cast over a dozen spells on the door.

Without a sound, it was shattered by this little Troll. No, it wasn't Troll anymore; it was a fire dragon in human skin, or rather, that damned Ukrainian Ironbelly.

By the time Oren realized what was happening, Snape had already run far away, leaving him no choice but to change his plans and instead torment Dumbledore.

Headmaster's Office, Oren was staring at an old man with heterochromia.

Old Deng asked, "You're Dumbledore's favorite student?"

Oren: "If there's no one else in this room, then it's me."

"Oh?" Old Dumbledore put down his teacup and said, "Oh? You want to duel me? I want to see just how strong Dumbledore's favorite student really is?"

Oren's "elbow"

An old man and a young boy stand facing each other in the Scotland wilderness at night.

Old Dumbledore thought: This young Dumbledore is showing off his skills, so his strength must be quite good. I must use a powerful attack spell later. No, just being strong isn't enough; it must be a spell related to Dumbledore.

Oren thought: This old man is so domineering, he must be a wizard of considerable strength. He must start with his strongest defensive skill.

Old Deng, "Fire God Paves the Way!"

Oren, "Fire Release: Body Protection!"

Silence is the Scotland wilderness tonight.

An elderly person and a child were squatting at the entrance of Hogwarts, slurping instant noodles.

Oren: "You're Grindelwald? Weren't you locked up in the Nurmengard Retirement Home by that International Confederation of Wizards?"

Grindelwald scoffed, "I only promised Dumbledore. The International Confederation of Wizards can't hold me back."

"Oh, I see. So you escaped from prison?"

"I didn't; Albus begged me to come out."

Oren gave a perfunctory reply, "Okay, okay, let's go back to the Headmaster's Office. These mosquitoes here can penetrate armor; they're practically impossible to avoid."

Grindelwald...

When the old man and the young boy returned to the Headmaster's Office, they saw Dumbledore slurping tea-flavored syrup.

Oren, "Headmaster..."

"Ahem," Grindelwald interrupted, "For some reason, Albus has already ceded the headmaster position to me."

Oren ignored him and instead pledged his loyalty, saying, "Principal, you know me. There's only one sun in the sky, and only one Principal in my heart."

Grindelwald...

Dumbledore nearly choked on the syrup too. He pulled out a newspaper and said, "The Ministry of Magic has released the results of its investigation into the Quidditch World Cup attack."

Oren: "I'm guessing... anyone could have done this, but definitely not Death Eaters."