Chapter 205: Christmas Eve (Part 2)
Harry sighed, nodded, and looked at Phineas.
"So, I can still spend the holidays with Sirius, right?"
Phineas smiled.
"Of course. Just not at Grimmauld Place. I happen to own a small island near the Scottish Highlands. How about celebrating there this year?"
Harry nodded.
"Sounds good."
Phineas's smile widened.
"Great. I'll contact Sirius, then."
Although Ron couldn't go to the Black family's ancestral home, he also wouldn't be left alone at Hogwarts this Christmas. That seemed to lift his mood, and he happily went off to the library with Neville and Harry.
After all, Ron was still a child and couldn't understand that Phineas's refusal came from a lack of trust. Ever since Hagrid had inadvertently revealed the name "Nicolas Flamel," Harry and the others had been trying to find more about him in the library. Though Phineas had already told them everything, none of the three believed him completely.
They couldn't imagine that the item Snape had once been willing to give up his position at Hogwarts to obtain was something Phineas could just hand over casually.
They were still convinced that Snape was the one who had attacked Harry and tried to steal Dumbledore's hidden object—despite Phineas having clearly explained it was Quirrell.
If it had been Fred and George, they would have trusted Phineas's word—partly because of their belief in him, and partly because they didn't let personal feelings cloud their judgment.
But Harry, new to the wizarding world; Ron, the youngest Weasley boy; and Neville, raised by his strict grandmother, weren't quite there yet. Their dislike of Snape blinded them. In their minds, Snape was the obvious villain—simple and unchallenged.
Unfortunately, they found no information about Nicolas Flamel, despite Phineas telling them he'd lived for over five hundred years. The problem wasn't a lack of resources—it was that they weren't seriously looking. They claimed to be researching Flamel, but spent more time flipping through Quidditch Through the Ages or browsing aimlessly.
Neville made a bit more effort, but Ron and Harry quickly led him off track.
Watching the three of them leave the library, Hermione shook her head and turned to Phineas.
"They didn't believe you. They said they were looking for clues, but they were just messing around."
Phineas gave a small smile.
"Maybe they do believe me, but their pride won't let them admit it. That's what's causing the contradiction."
Hermione frowned, puzzled.
Phineas added,
"It's a boy thing. And Ron... well, he's got a lot of issues with me."
"But why? I thought you got along with his brothers. I saw you talking with George and Fred just the other day."
Phineas shrugged, still smiling.
"Ron's the most stubborn of the Weasleys. To him, no good wizard could come from Slytherin—and I'm a Slytherin. Plus, last year at the Burrow, George and I teased him a bit too much."
Hermione rolled her eyes. She still couldn't understand how Phineas's clear reasoning and logic were being ignored just because of bias.
After that, Phineas ended the conversation and turned to help Professor Flitwick decorate the trees. With a flick of his wand, he conjured streams of golden bubbles, which floated up and settled onto the branches. Transfigured bells and candies, prepared by the house-elves, drifted into place beneath the glow of magic.
Since the next day marked the start of the holidays, that evening's dinner was especially lavish.
After dinner, the twins and Lee Jordan found Phineas. George and Fred flanked him, throwing their arms around his shoulders.
"Heard you invited Ron to spend Christmas with you," said George.
"And didn't invite us?" added Fred.
Phineas grinned.
"I'm not going home this Christmas either. So how's that my fault?"
At this, the twins stopped teasing and looked at him intently.
"So..."
"Does that mean..."
"You're planning something?"
"A new adventure?" Fred finished.
Even Lee, who had been planning to go home, looked tempted.
"Phineas, if you're planning something for Christmas, I'll stay. I'm sure Professor McGonagall won't mind one more student in the castle."
Phineas shook his head.
"No adventure this time. I'm just hoping to track down a clue about Helga Hufflepuff's legacy."
"You still say there's no risk?" Fred said, looking skeptical.
Phineas raised his hands in surrender.
"I'm just looking for clues, not running off to explore some dungeon. But if you're staying, I could use some help."
George leaned forward.
"Do you have any leads?"
Phineas sighed.
"None at all. Odd, isn't it? Hufflepuff is the founder with the most complete historical record. She had descendants. Yet somehow, her life and her legacy are the most obscure."
Lee nodded.
"That's true. Everyone knows her name, but no one knows who her descendants were, or even where she died."
George let out a low whistle.
"It's ironic. The founder we know the most about might actually be the one we know the least about when it comes to personal details and hidden legacies."
Fred turned to Phineas.
"So what's your plan?"
Phineas glanced around and lowered his voice.
"I'm going to the kitchens."
George blinked.
"We always go there."
Since Phineas had told them about the Room of Requirement, the four of them had made it a regular haunt. Thanks to Phineas's house elf puff, they'd never run out of butterbeer—even in the early years when trips to Hogsmeade were still off-limits.