The Vomiting Organization

"The best defense is a good offense."

"But this reminds me, perhaps I could make a few defensive items," Oren said thoughtfully, resting his chin on his hand.

Harry, "Let's go back to the dorm first; I need to write my paper for Divination."

Hermione: "I want to go to the Library!"

Oren followed the three little ones at a leisurely pace, constantly pondering what kind of defensive item he should make.

In the common room, Harry and Ron, holding their Divination textbooks, were telling each other's fortunes according to the omens listed in the book.

Harry: "According to the omens in the book, Ron, you'll have a nosebleed next week."

Ron: "Let me see, Harry, you're going to get burned next week."

Oren pursed his lips, stopped what he was doing, and said, "Are you two just born unlucky? If you go through all the unlucky things in the whole book, I think you'll encounter two-thirds of them."

Harry scratched his head and said, "But Divination, well... you know, it's hard to say whether it's accurate or not."

"What, are you going to burn your butt next week, so you're not going to eat this week?" Oren snatched their textbooks and said, "Kids, you're getting carried away!"

Harry...

Ron...

"If we don't have any bad luck, how are we going to write our Divination?" Ron asked dejectedly.

Why not just copy it directly?

Oren felt a chill run down his spine from Ron's resentful gaze. "Ahem, it's simple. For example, you're supposed to wrestle next week, but you manage to avoid this bloody disaster through various omens."

"Huh? You can do that?"

Oren shrugged. "Of course, it's a victory over fate."

Two little ones...

Hermione carried a parchment and a box into the Gryffindor Tower.

Oren stared blankly at the box, picked up a badge, and read, "Spew, S.P.E.W.?"

Seeing Hermione's increasingly hostile gaze, Oren explained, "You know me, my English isn't very good."

"It's an abbreviation," Hermione explained, "Meaning ' Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare '."

"Our long-term goal is to improve the treatment of House-elf until they are freed."

Harry and Ron shook their heads frantically, "Never heard of this organization!"

"You're right if you haven't heard of it," Hermione said, hands on her hips. "This is something I just started."

Oren interrupted, "How many troops does this organization have?"

"If the three of you join, there will be four people."

"Ha~" Oren remarked, "They really have a large army and many talented people."

"Is this the result of your many days of research in the Library?" Harry asked tentatively. "Can we not join in?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm appointing Harry as secretary and Ron as treasurer right now, two Sickle each. As for Oren..."

Just at this critical moment when he was being drafted, Hedwig Accio with a letter, Oren was so excited that he wanted to kiss her.

Harry opened the envelope excitedly and said, "A letter from Sirius Black, and a letter from Oren!"

Ron asked with a strange expression, "Oren, what do you think Harry's letter contained?"

"Just showing concern," Oren said, glancing at Harry. "Look at him, he's practically beaming with happiness."

Hermione asked, "What did Sirius Black say?"

"He complained to me that the Wolfsbane Potion I made was too strong, it almost turned Lupin into skin and bones. The sweet drink from the principal's team tastes good, but it's not effective either."

Oren truly couldn't understand how three brilliant minds —Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Nicolas Flamel— could combine to create one mediocre strategist.

Hermione: "Have you finished reading the letter? Let's continue with the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Wait a minute," Oren said, slamming his wallet on the table. "Let me pay to avoid trouble, okay? For the sake of the academy, let my brother off the hook."

In the end, none of the three could escape the truth. Oren, adhering to the principle that he couldn't suffer alone, had to drag others down with him. In the following days, he began to coerce, entice, deceive, and trick Gryffindor, making the entire Gryffindor wear the S.P.E.W. badge.

Early in the morning, Oren inspected the Gryffindor Tower, and after confirming that there were no traitors from the organization without medals, he went to the Headmaster's Office with satisfaction.

As expected, neither of the two old men were there, so I opened a portal and entered the small world.

Oren took out the bottle containing the soul and, together with various materials, created a Philosopher's Stone the size of a washbasin.

"This is the Philosopher's Stone, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked, appearing unexpectedly behind Oren.

"It just looks big, but it's not as big as Nicolas Flamel's," said old Grindelwald, who was still carrying a few saplings on his back.

Oren broke off a small piece of the Philosopher's Stone and said, "Next comes the most crucial step: installing the Philosopher's Stone battery into the defensive necklace."

"This work must be done very carefully, otherwise..."

"It's going to explode, right?" Grindelwald said, pointing to the necklace that was constantly spitting out sparks.

"Yes, you can answer first now," Oren nodded.

The flames shot four or five meters high and burned half an acre of land.

"Ahem, that was just an accident," Oren said, taking out more than ten necklaces.

Dumbledore wanted to stop it, but looking at the trees around him that had already turned to dust, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Let's continue.

One hour later~

Master Ao, who looked like he'd just come out of a coal mine, held up two necklaces and said, "Perfect! One for each of you two old folks. I dare say these things have amazing defensive capabilities."

"No need, its detonation power is just as astonishing."2

The two old men didn't want to have an incendiary bomb hanging around their necks.

The two of them took a few steps back, the ground, slightly scorched like glass, creaking under their feet.

"Tch~ You guys don't know what's good for you."

Oren cleaned himself up, opened a portal to the gates of Hogwarts, and called Will, that fat bastard. Will arrived in less than ten minutes.

Oren said, "Here you go, these are the necessary tools for your future paychecks."

Will looked into the woven bag with a puzzled expression and asked, "What's this...?"

Oren picked up a stone casually and tapped it against the Philosopher's Stone 'Philosopher's Stone.

After tossing the gold to Will, Oren ordered, "Go get me some materials. Oh, by the way, has the headmaster moved you to a new location?"

"It's changed, it's near Hogsmeade." Will broke out in a cold sweat looking at the materials list. Three whole sheets of parchment filled with heavy metals—this was going to be a real problem.

"Young Master mentioned planting trees last time, so I got a batch of drought-resistant saplings. I wonder if Young Master would find them useful?"

"Ha, it just so happens that Headmaster Dumbledore is troubled by this very matter. Alright, if you have something to say, speak now; otherwise, you may leave."

Will...

Headmaster's Office ~

Oren tossed the sapling and the Philosopher's Stone into a corner of the room.

The two old men were resting when Grindelwald said, "Kid, you don't usually show your face in front of those dark wizards."

"No need," Oren waved his hand and said, "I learned this trick from the headmaster. As long as they don't know what I did, they won't know what I did wrong."

Dumbledore's eyes were kind, as if he were looking at a younger generation.

Oren looked at him with respect, as if he were a senior.

Grindelwald...

"By the way, is something important happening today?" Oren asked. "Why do I notice the armor in the castle is so shiny from being polished?"

Grindelwald, "It's Beauxbatons and Durmstrang's students coming."

Oren: "Oh, the principal's vanity project."

Dumbledore...