Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard
Chapter 738: Christmas Gift

Chapter 738 - 738: Christmas Gift

"Severus Snape?" Nicolas repeated the name in a low voice, searching his memories but finding nothing.

The only living wizard he knew with a deep involvement in potions was Pegasia Sykes, whom he had last seen sixty years ago... or was it seventy? It had been so long that he could no longer remember.

"He's the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts," Kyle reminded him.

"Huh?"

For the second time, Nicolas was taken aback. He couldn't help but ask, "Is the bar at Hogwarts set so high these days?"

A professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts had actually managed to brew the most complex potion to date. Were all Hogwarts professors this versatile?

Wasn't this a bit much? How were the other schools supposed to keep up?

"No, no... you've got it all wrong," Kanna quickly clarified. "Professor Snape has always been in charge of Potions. He only started teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

Hearing Kanna's explanation, Nicolas nodded in understanding.

That made much more sense.

"It seems like he really cares about you," Nicolas remarked to Kanna. "By the way, I believe he used the ashes of Fawkes that were left behind."

"Sorry, I don't know," Kanna said, turning to Kyle.

"Yes," Kyle confirmed. "I remember Professor Dumbledore mentioning that when Fawkes died, some of the ashes were taken by Professor Snape."

"No wonder," Nicolas murmured, nodding.

He vaguely recalled that when they visited Hogwarts two years ago, Dumbledore had also mentioned the name Severus and said that part of the ashes had already been used. However, at the time, Dumbledore had not specified what Snape was teaching, and Nicolas's attention had been focused on the portion of ashes in Kyle's possession. He hadn't given it much thought.

Now, everything made sense.

The half of the ashes that Severus Snape had taken back then had been used to brew the Phoenix Potion now before him.

"It's truly remarkable..." Nicolas murmured, before turning his head toward Kyle, twisting his lips slightly.

"Tsk..."

Wizards truly couldn't be compared.

To be honest, there weren't many things that piqued Nicolas's interest these days, but Kanna, whom he had just met, had given him such a pleasant surprise.

And then there was Kyle—who always seemed to find something for him to do whenever they met. And it was always something he couldn't refuse. In the past two years, he had done more work than in the previous thirty.

More importantly, Kyle was always eyeing his opera house.

The contrast was obvious.

"No, I'm not wrong," Kyle muttered. "He is now a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That's not what I mean," Nicolas said, extending his hand. "Come on, take it out."

"Take what?" Kyle asked, momentarily confused.

"A present," Nicolas replied with a straight face. "You came to visit an old man over six hundred years old and didn't bring a Christmas gift?"

Kyle opened his mouth, but his entire body froze.

What was this about? Why did Nicolas suddenly care about such a thing?

Though he had prepared a gift, compared to the Phoenix Potion that had resurrected Kanna, the opera poster that played music felt downright embarrassing.

"How about..." Kyle thought for a moment before taking out the gold cup and placing it on the table. "I give you this?"

"No," Nicolas refused without hesitation.

"This is Hufflepuff's Cup," Kyle pointed out, unable to hold back his disbelief. "Didn't you say before that it was a temptation no alchemist could refuse?"

"That was ten minutes ago. Things are different now."

Nicolas calmly took out the bottle of potion and gave it a slight shake. "With this, I can recreate it anytime I want. To me, this is just a lump of gold."

The thing I lack the least is gold.

The greatest feature of the gold cup was its stability—it had remained intact despite being eroded by Voldemort's soul shard. And the Phoenix Potion happened to be the most effective stabilizing material in alchemy. So, in a way, Nicolas was right.

"But it's Hufflepuff's Cup... That means something," Kyle tried, emphasizing its historical and sentimental significance.

"Only to you," Nicolas remained indifferent. "I graduated from Beauxbatons. The Founders mean nothing to me."

Kyle fell silent.

Throughout the exchange, Perenelle had been watching with a gentle smile. From time to time, she handed Kanna small plates of food she thought the girl might like.

But Kanna had no appetite.

She stared blankly at Kyle and the golden cup on the table.

Hufflepuff's Cup?

Hogwarts' Hufflepuff?

As a Hogwarts student, she, of course, understood what this meant.

Like Gryffindor's Sword and Ravenclaw's Diadem, Hufflepuff's Cup was one of Hogwarts' greatest treasures. Every Hufflepuff valued it immensely.

And yet, here it was—being dismissed?

Even Kyle was a Hufflepuff like her.

Kanna looked again at the golden cup resting on the table.

Yes, it was the exact same size and shape as the one depicted in the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff in the common room.

"Don't mind them," Perenelle said, patting Kanna's hand. "What they say and what they mean are two different things."

Kanna might not have understood everything, but she understood enough.

Nicolas wasn't rejecting the cup because he didn't like it—he was teasing Kyle.

The reason was simple: some time ago, he had been so engrossed in his research on the cup and potion that he had completely lost track of time and missed an important opera.

Nicolas had been annoyed about it for days.

It had been his own forgetfulness, not Kyle's fault, but the timing had been unfortunate.

Knowing this, Perenelle had no intention of stopping him. She simply watched Nicolas toy with Kyle, smiling as if she were enjoying a well-performed stage play.

Kyle, of course, had no idea.

Stared down by Nicolas, he scratched his head, looking slightly troubled.

He hadn't expected Nicolas to refuse Hufflepuff's Cup. Since when did people get to choose their Christmas presents?

And this wasn't just any gift—it was the Hufflepuff's Cup. How had it suddenly become just a lump of gold in Nicolas's eyes?

Something was off. Kyle's eyes flickered.

But that was fine. He hadn't wanted to part with the cup anyway. He had only brought it out as a polite gesture.

If Nicolas was too embarrassed to accept it, that wasn't his problem.

What he hadn't expected was that not only was Nicolas not embarrassed—he actually looked down on the cup.

The result was the same, but the meaning was completely different.

"You're not just being polite, are you?" Nicolas seemed to have read Kyle's thoughts, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course not," Kyle replied with a dry laugh. "I was just joking to liven things up a bit. I've actually already got a present ready."

"Then show it to me," Nicolas said again, extending his hand and watching Kyle with interest.

He had already made up his mind—whatever Kyle brought out next would likely be something similar to the golden cup. Nicolas didn't believe Kyle could produce another truly special Horcrux... something on the level of the Sword of Gryffindor.

But even if he did, Nicolas doubted he would be interested.

Among the artifacts said to have been left behind by the Founders, the Sword of Gryffindor was the only one that wasn't an alchemical item in the traditional sense. It was a weapon forged by goblins.

To Nicolas, that was worth less than a pile of gold.

As it turned out, Kyle didn't have a Horcrux in his hands—but he did have something else.

Under Nicolas's watchful gaze, Kyle quickly set the golden cup back on the table and pulled out an exquisite silver jar.

"I snatched this from Professor Dumbledore," Kyle said solemnly. "You have no idea—he hasn't spoken to me for more than half a month because of this."

"Oh?" Nicolas raised an eyebrow.

He didn't doubt Kyle's words.

The moment Kyle took out the jar, Nicolas recognized it as Dumbledore's.

Each alchemist left their own distinctive imprint on the items they created. Even if two alchemists crafted the same object, subtle details would set them apart—like a signature on a piece of writing.

And this silver jar was unmistakably "signed" by Dumbledore.

There was another detail.

The other day, when Nicolas had met Dumbledore, the man had seemed unusually sullen. At the time, Nicolas hadn't thought much of it, assuming it had something to do with Voldemort.

But looking back, that expression was more like someone brooding over something that had been taken from them.

As the realization dawned, Nicolas's expression shifted slightly. Even Dumbledore was upset about this? Now that was interesting.

"Oh, this jar is quite exquisite," he said with a smile, "but there's one thing I don't understand."

"What?" Kyle asked.

"You just said you took it from Albus to get me a Christmas present, right?"

"Mhm," Kyle nodded earnestly. "I went through a lot of trouble for it."

"That's strange," Nicolas mused, turning the jar over in his hands as he examined it. "According to you, this happened at least half a month ago... but I only decided to invite you yesterday. The timing doesn't quite add up."

"Ah, well..." Kyle hesitated. "I saw it in my Divination class... I must have a talent for prophecy."

"That's even stranger," Nicolas remarked. "Not that I want to doubt your abilities..."

"But Kyle, I don't know if you noticed the crystal ball you saw in the room earlier. That, too, is an alchemical item, and its function is to alert me to anything regarding my own predictions."

"If I recall correctly... it hasn't lit up in five years."

Nicolas's gaze burned into Kyle, as did Perenel's and Kanna's.

Especially Kanna—she had never seen anyone put Kyle on the back foot like this before.

...This is kind of interesting.

"I-I was wrong just now." Faced with Nicolas's questioning look, Kyle hastily corrected himself. "Actually, I saw that I would be going on a long trip at Christmas and guessed that I would come here."

"Really? That makes sense," Nicolas said, looking relieved. "I thought the crystal ball was broken. It's not easy to fix that thing."

"Oh, and thanks for the present. I really like it," Nicolas added, picking up the jar from the table. Without even checking its contents, he handed it directly to the House-elf, Tata, instructing him to take it back and store it carefully.

He did this as if he were afraid Kyle might change his mind.

Kyle could see it too, but what could he do? Facing an old wizard in his 600s who shamelessly played the rogue, he was at his wits' end.

Tata was skilled at his craft, and the sumptuous dinner was in no way inferior to a feast at Hogwarts. The spread included dishes from many different countries, catering to all tastes.

The other three enjoyed their meal, but Kyle, no matter what he ate, felt like he was chewing on dry bread.

And he had no idea that this was just the beginning—what would truly leave him disheartened was yet to come.

After dinner, Perenel took Kanna on a tour of the manor, which was filled with magical wonders... a ceiling that could change the weather at any moment, an opera hall that made you feel like you were part of the performance, and countless alchemical artifacts scattered throughout.

Nowhere else would you find such things.

Even though Kanna was intent on finding a quiet place to finish reading her book, she couldn't help but be fascinated by the sights around her. Despite herself, she followed Perenel away.

"Do you like opera? Or concerts?"

"Not really," Kanna answered, sounding a little awkward. "Does radio music count? I listen to The Weird Sisters a lot."

"Radio music is nice too—it's perfect for students. I remember attending Warbeck's Christmas song and dance party ten years ago, and after that, radio sales tripled... Come with me, my dear. I'll take you to see it live."

The two quickly disappeared down the stairs.

Meanwhile, Nicolas, once again holding the bottle of Phoenix Potion, couldn't wait to return to his laboratory.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, Kyle was left alone in the room—except for Tata, the House-elf.

"Mr. Kyle, if you're done eating, would you mind moving?" Tata asked, holding a rag in one hand and looking up at him.

Kyle subconsciously stood up and stepped aside.

"Thank you, sir," Tata said, tapping the table lightly. At once, the table started moving, its legs swinging as it scooted away, followed by the chairs, vanishing into a corridor that had suddenly appeared to the left.

Tata quickly mopped the floor before following them, and just like that, the corridor disappeared into thin air.

Kyle had been watching the whole time.

He knew the corridor led to the kitchen, but he had never been there, and Tata had never given him the chance.

He had just started to think that, since he had nothing else to do, he might as well take a look in the kitchen—when the hallway disappeared.

Now, he was truly the only person left in the house, completely ignored by everyone, as if there had only ever been three people here to begin with.

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