Chapter 224: School Resumes
Phineas didn't know when he would finally figure it out—or more precisely, when he would be calm enough to think straight.
He paced restlessly around the cave, occasionally scratching his head or kicking at the remnants of shattered ice still littering the floor. The question nagged at him like an itch he couldn't scratch: What liquid belonged in the golden cup? The thought refused to leave him, stirring his anxiety into a full storm.
Time crawled. Puff, who had been watching silently all this time, couldn't bear it any longer and gently stepped forward.
"Master, may Puff take you back to rest?"
It was a risky thing for a house-elf to say. They weren't meant to offer advice—only to obey, obey, and obey. Puff's quiet suggestion broke tradition, and it could have easily sparked Phineas's temper.
Fortunately, Phineas, despite being overwhelmed, hadn't lost his grip on reason. He recognized Puff's concern and the wisdom behind the words. With a silent nod, he accepted.
That night, back in the Room of Requirement, peace finally settled over him. By morning, Phineas realized it was January 6th—term would resume the following day.
Students began returning from the holidays, filling the castle with laughter and chatter.
"Did you finish your holiday homework?"
"What did you get for Christmas?"
"Where did you go?"
Naturally, those who stayed at Hogwarts had homework too. But Phineas had… forgotten. Entirely.
"Did you guys finish your holiday homework?" he asked the twins and Lee Jordan.
"Just one essay left," Jordan replied, passing around snacks he'd brought from home. "I'll look it up in the library later."
They were lounging in their favorite hideout: a cozy room conjured by the Room of Requirement. Since Phineas had stopped living in the Slytherin dormitory, this space had become their usual meeting place. They read magazines, played chess, joked around, and even dabbled in the odd magical experiment.
The twins answered together, "We're all set. Finished it."
Jordan raised an eyebrow. "You two didn't just copy each other again, did you?"
The twins grinned. "It's not copying. It's collaborative learning."
Phineas could only shake his head.
Jordan gave Phineas a curious look. "You never ask about homework. What gives?"
Phineas gave a sheepish smile. "I got caught up in some things over the break. Totally forgot."
All three stared at him in shock.
"You mean you didn't do your homework?" George asked, incredulous.
Fred yelped, "You really didn't?"
Phineas could only nod.
Jordan gaped. "The top student in our year forgot his holiday homework… So now you want to copy ours?"
Phineas and the twins responded in unison, "It's called borrowing!"
Laughter filled the room.
Eventually, Phineas did get his hands on all three of their assignments. For repetitive tasks, he "borrowed" generously. For essays on magical theory and spellwork, he wrote them himself—it wasn't hard for someone of his level to produce solid third-year work.
The day after handing it in, Professor McGonagall called him aside.
"Mr. Black, while your academic excellence is undeniable, that doesn't excuse you from doing your own homework. Copying from Mr. Weasley and Mr. Jordan—even if you made a few edits—won't be tolerated."
She returned the parchment with a disappointed sigh.
"I understand you were preoccupied, but don't let it happen again. Next time, there will be detention."
Phineas took the paper back with a guilty nod.
As she walked away, the twins high-fived gleefully.
"She didn't notice our trick!"
Phineas and Jordan exchanged knowing looks. Of course she noticed—everyone could see through the twins' antics. But it was Phineas, the top student, who drew her wrath by copying verbatim. The twins had unintentionally benefitted from the distraction.
Phineas warned them, "Don't count on getting away with it again. Professor Snape won't be so forgiving."
And indeed, he wasn't.
"Redo it. Now."
Snape's cold stare froze the twins in place.
As they slumped off to rewrite their assignments, Jordan snickered and clapped Fred on the back.
"Could've been worse. At least you weren't locked up."
George muttered, "I swear, Snape can read our minds. Feels like Dumbledore, too."
"He probably can," Phineas said. "It's Legilimency. Never meet Snape's eyes—he's a master of Occlumency, and that usually means Legilimency too."
The three looked unsettled, but not surprised. Phineas always knew more than he let on.
With the homework crisis over, the twins' troubles were only beginning. After the holidays, Quidditch training resumed in full force—and Oliver Wood had clearly lost his mind.
"He's insane," George groaned.
"A training maniac," Fred agreed.
Even in relentless rain, Wood pushed them to the limit. This year's Gryffindor team had a real shot at winning the House Cup—something that hadn't happened in seven years. The pressure was immense, and Wood's desperation was contagious.
The next match was critical: Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. And the assigned referee?
"Snape," the twins said in despair.
Phineas blinked. "Snape?"
George grumbled, "He's going to sabotage us. No way he'll be fair."
Phineas shook his head. "Think about it. Professor Hooch was referee for your first game—Harry almost died. After that, professors started taking turns officiating. Flitwick. Sprout. McGonagall. Now Snape."
Fred frowned. "So you're saying… Snape's doing this to protect Harry?"
"Exactly. He may despise Harry because of his father, but for Lily's sake, he won't let him die. He might let him get roughed up—but not killed."
The twins remained unconvinced, but it did soften their complaints.
Harry, on the other hand, took it hard. He grew quiet, sullen, and withdrawn. Even Ron and Neville's half-baked ideas to skip the match couldn't sway the inevitable: Gryffindor had no backup Seeker.
But Harry had changed since the break. Gone was the insecure boy who felt inferior to pure-bloods. Sirius's influence had transformed him—filling gaps in his magical education, drilling dueling spells, instilling pride in his heritage. Harry returned with the presence of a true heir to the Potter legacy.
As the Quidditch match approached, Phineas had no interest in watching. He had more pressing concerns.
The golden cup still haunted him.
Desperate for answers, he finally remembered: he was a Seer. He retrieved a crystal ball from among his magical items and prepared to consult it.
If the divination succeeded, the mists inside would clear and form a visible image—one that could even be preserved with enough magic. Otherwise, the vision would fade into smoke again.
Clutching the orb, Phineas closed his eyes and silently asked his question.
A shiver ran down his spine. Then the smoke in the crystal ball began to swirl and part, revealing a picture—the true answer to the mystery of the golden cup's contents.