When Harry finished writing his reply to Sirius, folded the letter, and slipped it into an envelope, he noticed something on the back of Sirius's long letter.
Turning the paper over, he found a line written in an uneven, slightly hesitant hand:
[Harry, your parents appointed me as your guardian in case anything ever happened to them. Of course, if you prefer living with your aunt and uncle, I can fully understand. But now that my name has been cleared—if you ever want a different home, you're welcome to come stay with me for a few days.
The old Black family house has plenty of empty rooms.]
Harry felt as if something exploded inside his head.
It took him a long while to fully react...
He could move out of the Dursleys' house.
He could live with his Godfather!!!
To put it bluntly, even if Sirius lived under a bridge, Harry would move in without a second thought. Let alone the possibility of him owning a large ancestral home.
The moment he imagined leaving Privet Drive and living with his parents' best friend, Harry's eyes reddened, and his quill began to move several times faster.
He had to reply to Sirius immediately.
Christmas was a holiday for reunion—for everyone.
At that moment, Draco Malfoy was strolling through the garden of Malfoy Manor with his father, Lucius. Lucius's wife, Narcissa, followed behind them, a warm and content smile on her face.
Lucius Malfoy walked leisurely along the garden path, appearing calm on the surface, but inwardly his thoughts were tangled around one thing—the puppets. The faint burning sensation on his arm pulsed like a whip, pushing him, urging him, like a countdown forcing him to choose a side.
Lucius didn't want to choose. He only wanted to stand beside whoever won in the end. Unfortunately, neither Dumbledore nor the Dark Lord would allow such neutrality.
I wonder if those four puppets can stand against him...
The more he thought about it, the more irritated he became, and in that frustration, a rebellious, practically treasonous thought surfaced.
If Bellatrix or the others ever learned he had such a notion, he would be eating several rounds of the Cruciatus Curse.
Lost in his spiraling thoughts, Lucius even imagined inviting Dumbledore over for a test match once the puppets arrived. Since it was known that Dumbledore was slightly stronger than the Dark Lord, then if even Dumbledore couldn't handle four puppets, the Dark Lord most likely wouldn't be able to either.
And that would mean the Malfoy household was relatively safe.
Lucius felt the world was growing more incomprehensible by the day.
Out of nowhere, a witch appeared, created some puppets, and those puppets were capable of utterly overwhelming Aurors. It had shattered his understanding of the world.
As someone who had lived through the Wizarding War, Lucius knew very well the true strength of Dawlish and Kingsley. He couldn't comment too much on Dawlish, but Kingsley? Kingsley was excellent. And yet even he couldn't defeat those puppets. The world truly had changed.
Thinking of this, Lucius narrowed his eyes.
Would that mysterious Professor White… be a match for the Dark Lord?
If she could casually produce puppets, surely she could produce far more than he could. If so, then…
He immediately cut off that dangerous line of thought.
The Malfoy family would never place their bets lightly.
Seeing his father distracted and deep in thought, Draco Malfoy pulled out his wand, pointed it at a snowman, and made it break into a tap-dance.
"Father, look!" Draco gestured proudly at his creation. As expected, a faint smile appeared on Lucius's face.
Seeing his father's mood improve, Draco seized the moment and presented his request: he wanted a Firebolt.
"A Firebolt?" Lucius frowned. He had heard of that broom's reputation, of course—but why? His son already had a Nimbus 2001, which was better than that Potter boy's broom.
And after bleeding a fortune to order four puppets, Lucius wasn't in the mood to spend even more money.
"Yes! It's the most advanced broom ever—zero to one hundred fifty miles per hour in ten seconds—"
"I know what it is. I'm asking why you want to replace your broom. You only bought the Nimbus 2001 last year."
Lucius cut off Draco's enthusiastic explanation, urging him to get to the point.
"Someone sent Potter a Firebolt! And as if that wasn't enough, Cedric from Hufflepuff got one too! H-how is that fair?! They're both Seekers. If I don't have a Firebolt, I'll be at a huge disadvantage during matches!" Draco's words tumbled out rapidly from nerves.
Lucius fell silent.
Lucius really was short on money at the moment, but he had earned quite a bit from the Ministry's Christmas gifts. If he also found someone to buy the Nimbus 2001 off him, then combining the two sums… perhaps he could afford to get Draco a Firebolt?
After all, if Draco didn't have one, he would be suppressed by Potter and that Hufflepuff boy.
That was unacceptable!
"…Alright. I'll go to Diagon Alley later and buy you one—"
SMACK!
Before Lucius even finished his sentence, the back of his head was slapped hard. He turned around to see Narcissa staring at him furiously.
"Have you lost your mind? Didn't you hear Draco say that ridiculous broom can accelerate to one hundred and fifty miles an hour?! It's far too dangerous! Do you want fewer sons?! One mistake during a match and he'll be a smear on the ground!"
Narcissa's rapid-fire scolding left both Lucius and Draco silent.
Seeing the Firebolt slipping out of reach, Draco steeled himself and protested that his flying skills were perfectly fine—only for Narcissa to glare sharply at him.
"You be quiet! As long as I am in this household, neither of you should even think about buying a Firebolt!"
Draco and Lucius immediately shut their mouths and didn't mention the Firebolt again.
While the Malfoy father and son were being lectured, Daphne and Astoria knocked on the door of Helga's office.
"Professor, have you had breakfast yet?" Daphne lifted a food box overflowing with delicious aromas, her smile sweet and bright.
"Not yet, come in quickly!" Helga welcomed the sisters inside, quietly sighing to herself—these two innocent children had no idea what was about to happen to them.
With Rhys pushing things in this direction, Helga never realized she was unintentionally exposing her advanced techniques.
Daphne and Astoria stepped into the warm office. They removed their cloaks and hung them on the rack. They had changed out of their dresses and were now wearing sweaters—two nearly identical ones, except Daphne's had a "D" embroidered on the front, and Astoria's had an "A".
Rhys accepted the food box from their hands with a smile.
He hurriedly summoned several plates and took out the sausages and baked potatoes from the box to share them with Helga and the sisters.
After eating and drinking their fill, Rhys explained to the Greengrass sisters why he was here.
"Professor White is a good person. She's willing to teach us how to make automaton parts. To be honest, I actually participated in designing part of the automatons myself. She and I hope the two of you can learn how to craft the parts as soon as possible."
Daphne and Astoria exchanged a glance, each seeing the excitement in the other's eyes.
Making automaton parts? That was an incredibly practical skill!
At the very least, they wouldn't need to trouble Professor White for repairs anymore. If any part broke, they could fix it themselves.
Astoria thought even further ahead—once they mastered all the components, their father would only need to buy a bare automaton. Any upgrades afterward could be crafted by the two of them, saving a huge amount of money.
Seeing the sisters' faces glowing with excitement, Helga felt a surge of pity for these two students hand-picked by Salazar. She sighed softly and began teaching them how to craft automaton parts.
Creating automaton components required extremely refined control over magic, and the spells carved into each part had to be thoroughly memorized. Fortunately, both Daphne and Astoria met these requirements, so their progress wasn't slow—they succeeded in producing simple parts after only ruining six or seven pieces of material.
"A very good start," Rhys said as he watched them work, unable to hide the smile on his face.
Helga shot him a glare, stuffed an armful of materials into his hands, and dragged him to a corner to make parts with her.
Next, Rhys fully immersed himself in producing parts, while Helga stared blankly at the Greengrass sisters, whose movements were growing more and more proficient.
After a moment, she made a decision and sent a letter to her student Cedric, asking whether he had any plans for the holiday. As for Rowena's student, she and Salazar tacitly avoided mentioning her name—they trusted Rowena to teach her well.
When one is focused on work, time always flies. In what felt like just a blink, the sky outside had turned dark.
The four people in the office finally put down their work and stretched.
Rhys took out a few bottles of energy potion from his robes and handed them to Daphne and Astoria.
"Drink these. They'll relieve your mental and physical exhaustion." Rhys casually tossed another bottle to Helga.
Looking at the boxes stacked high in the office, Rhys felt a strange sense of satisfaction—these were the fruits of their labor.
Helga didn't rush to assemble the automatons. Instead, she calculated the exact quantities needed for each component based on the orders, then assigned the tasks accordingly. She and Salazar handled the difficult parts, while Daphne and Astoria practiced on the simple ones.
After a full day of high-intensity practice, the Greengrass sisters had already mastered the crafting methods for several components. Under normal circumstances, it would take at least a week to reach this level of proficiency.
"You three go back for now. Tomorrow morning I'll teach you how to make the more complex parts. As for the simple ones, leave them be—Cedric will come help tomorrow." After tidying up the messy office, Helga ushered Rhys and the two girls out.
She had received Cedric's reply that afternoon.
He said he had no plans for the holiday and frankly admitted he was growing moldy with boredom at home. If his teacher needed help with anything, he could come over immediately.
However, he wanted to travel by broom, so he wouldn't arrive until tomorrow—he was far too eager to try out his newly acquired Firebolt.
Since the student said so—whether Cedric truly meant it or not—Helga decided to call him over and broaden his horizons a little, letting him help make some automaton components.
As for him only arriving the next day, that wasn't a problem; Helga understood his excitement perfectly.
The mention of Cedric Diggory from Professor White sparked Astoria's curiosity. From various subtle details, she keenly sensed that something was off.
Rhys seemed to know this Professor White very well—so well that it exceeded what their public relationship implied. The two must have private exchanges that no one else knew about.
And when Professor White spoke of Cedric Diggory, there was a tone that Astoria found strangely familiar. After thinking for a moment, she suddenly understood—Wasn't that the same tone Daphne used when talking about Rhys and vice versa?
With that thought, everything clicked into place.Professor White must be an heir of one of the Founders, just like Rhys!
Considering Cedric's House, Astoria was ninety percent certain that Professor White was Helga Hufflepuff's successor.
Smith White was Helga Hufflepuff's successor! And considering her origins and the kind of magic she excelled at, she was very likely Helga Hufflepuff's own disciple or grand-disciple—her seniority was terrifyingly high.
Astoria felt she had uncovered an earth-shattering secret.
Now everything made sense.
If they were both inheritors, it was perfectly normal for the two to have a close relationship.
As for the old feud between Slytherin and Hufflepuff—please, Rhys and Professor White were not Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff themselves. Why would there be so many grudges?
A senior like Professor White would never stoop to bickering with a junior a thousand years younger. If anyone wanted to pick a fight with Slytherin, they should do it with Slytherin himself, not with a descendant.
Astoria felt she understood everything.
She quickly glanced at her sister's expression and found Daphne still blissfully unaware of anything. Astoria immediately understood that Daphne hadn't noticed a thing.
Astoria: "…"
That was probably for the best. Sometimes, knowing too much only brought stress. Like right now—she felt enormous pressure.
According to Rhys, Cedric had probably already comprehended the Domain, or was on the verge of doing so. That meant the time left for her and Daphne was running out.
She didn't want to fall behind.
If Cedric awakened his Domain first, wouldn't Rhys be terribly disappointed?
This was a competition between the inheritances of Slytherin and Hufflepuff—if they lagged behind, it would be Lord Slytherin's dignity on the line.
After returning to the common room, the three of them didn't hurry back to their dormitories—those empty rooms only offered sleep. Instead, they gathered around the fireplace, enjoying a brief moment of peace after an entire day of work.
Sitting closest to the fire, Daphne felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her. Sleepiness tugged at her eyelids, and even the flames in front of her began to blur.
In that hazy state, Daphne suddenly sensed something strange happening within the fire: it seemed to be flowing, just like that pool of water she had seen earlier that morning!
_______
Read 12 Chapters ahead:
Patreon: HornyFBI