Chapter 203 – The Coming Christmas
Most of the Slytherin students understood the deeper truths of the magical world. These weren't exactly secrets—but rather truths quietly kept from Muggle-borns and half-bloods.
Phineas continued,
"I believe most of you know what it takes to become a legendary wizard and earn a place in the Elder Council. If you truly had that potential, you'd have been sent to Skull long ago. Of course, some—like myself—chose Hogwarts deliberately. But make no mistake, Skull remains the fastest path to becoming a legendary wizard."
What began as a conversation with Draco had become an unintentional lecture for the nearby students as well.
"If you don't reach that level, then you'll need resources. And resources come from society. Only legendary wizards can afford to ignore the world and focus solely on unlocking the mysteries of magic. That's why Skull's students can disregard both Muggle-borns and pure-bloods. But you can't. As long as you remain in society, you'll need the support of Muggle-born wizards."
He paused, letting his words settle in.
"You can look down on them. You can even exploit their cheaper labor. But what you must not do is divide the magical world into separate castes—as if they were a lower species. That kind of thinking has already fractured the wizarding world. For thousands of years, many have tried and failed to bridge that gap. The last thing we need is to create a third divide."
Though Phineas's explanation was complex, many of the surrounding students understood its weight. It was exactly this kind of clarity that made their parents warn them not to provoke him—better still, to befriend him if possible. Because Phineas didn't simply speak with authority. He stood above them all, in understanding and ambition.
Draco, still just a boy, absorbed only fragments of the speech. But when he saw older students nodding thoughtfully at Phineas, he turned to him and said,
"I understand, Uncle. I won't mock Muggle-borns anymore."
Phineas smiled, nodding.
"To earn respect, Draco, you must first give it. Never forget that."
With that, he stood and brushed off his robes.
"Alright, I'm heading to the dorm. Got an early class tomorrow."
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Phineas gave him a wave and walked off, leaving him behind.
In truth, Draco also had class early, but he didn't take his studies nearly as seriously. Given his family's wealth and influence, it was understandable—his future didn't depend on good grades.
But for Phineas, Hogwarts classrooms were where he excelled. Many professors no longer even asked him questions—his reputation for brilliance had preceded him.
From the third year onwards, all Hogwarts students were required to take at least two elective subjects in addition to their core curriculum. Some ambitious students—like Hermione in the future, or Percy Weasley in years past—took all available electives.
Phineas, however, had chosen three: Ancient Runes, Divination, and Arithmancy.
Given his inheritance from Ravenclaw, Ancient Runes offered little new to Phineas. In fact, he served as an assistant to Professor Bathsheda Babbling, frequently helping explain complex content in class.
Although Professor Babbling wasn't a Ravenclaw heir herself, she had earned a sterling reputation in the study of ancient runes. Dumbledore had invited her to Hogwarts specifically for that reason.
Outside of class, Phineas and Professor Babbling worked together on revising and expanding "Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms" and "Advanced Rune Translation." These foundational texts, though still valuable, contained errors and outdated interpretations. Phineas's insights, drawn from Ravenclaw's legacy, filled in knowledge gaps no other wizard alive could bridge.
Their collaboration not only advanced the study of magical texts but also deepened Phineas's own understanding of magic.
Woosh—
A gust of wind and rustling branches echoed down the corridor outside.
Phineas excused himself and stepped into the hall, where he saw a massive fir tree blocking the path. The bulky legs visible beneath it and the heavy breaths gave away the person behind it—Hagrid, no doubt bringing in the Christmas trees.
"Hey, Hagrid. Need a hand?"
Before the half-giant could answer, Harry, Ron, and Neville appeared from the far end of the corridor.
"No thanks, I've got it," Hagrid grunted. "Appreciate it though, Ron."
From behind the tree came another voice—familiar and dripping with disdain.
"Out of the way, will you?"
Draco Malfoy emerged, his voice low and mocking.
"Trying to earn some extra pocket money, Weasley? I bet you're hoping to take over as gamekeeper when you graduate. Honestly, Hagrid's hut is more luxurious than your house."
Though Draco had eased up on Harry, thanks to Phineas's influence, he still loathed Ron, and the feeling was mutual. The moment the two saw each other, sparks flew.
Ron spun around, face red with anger, ready to lash out. But before anything could escalate, Professor Snape swept down the stairs.
At the same moment, Phineas raised his wand, casting a silent spell.
The enormous fir tree shrank instantly and floated gracefully into the air, making Hagrid beam with relief.