Nolan sorted the gifts from his visiting classmates into two piles: one for things he could use and another for things he wasn't particularly fond of.
"Why would anyone enjoy eating cockroaches?" he muttered, poking at a box of Cockroach Clusters with his finger before pushing it toward Dumbledore. "Professor, if you don't mind, please take this."
Dumbledore looked delighted. "Oh! If I'm not mistaken, this is a gift from the Weasley twins. Such a thoughtful family."
One young vampire munching on Bloody Toffees, and one wizened wizard snacking on Cockroach Clusters, the pair made an unusual sight. After eating a few pieces, Dumbledore licked his fingers and said, "I must admit, Mr. Von Draugr, I've misjudged you in the past."
"Misjudged?" Nolan tilted his head. "Are you referring to the magic you placed on the Sorting Hat?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so you noticed. Naturally, the Sorting Hat is enchanted to read the thoughts of young witches and wizards. This year, I added a spell to make its insight even deeper."
"I don't mind that you doubted me," Nolan replied softly. "After all, as you know, I don't care. Professor Dumbledore, your life is far too short, though I'll admit you're impressively powerful."
Dumbledore regarded Nolan silently for a moment. "Those with long lifespans often adopt a sense of detachment. Your lives are lengthy, your knowledge vast, and you've experienced countless moments of wonder, so nothing seems significant anymore. Nolan, I must say, that's not a healthy outlook."
Nolan opened his mouth to reply, but Dumbledore raised a hand, cutting him off with the gentle air of a grandfather visiting his sick grandson. "I have a friend," Dumbledore continued, "a wizard who has lived for more than six centuries through magical means. His life even surpasses that of your sister."
"Nicholas Flamel," Nolan murmured.
"Becoming immortal is not as great a gift as it seems." Dumbledore said. "Wizards have around 150 years—brief in your eyes, but long enough for us to experience all the joys and sorrows of life. After that, we grow weary, becoming the old codgers young witches and wizards talk about."
"Nolan, I believe you're an intelligent young man, destined to become a greater figure than Duchess Felicia. But before you reach that point, I hope you'll live as other students do: make friends, fall in love, and truly observe these wizards you so often look down on. You'll find they're far more interesting than you might think. Wouldn't you agree?"
Nolan chewed his toffee in silence, watching Dumbledore intently. He hesitated for a long time before barely murmuring a response.
The next thing he felt was a warm hand gently pressing the top of his head.
"Good boy," Dumbledore said warmly. "You, too, will become a great wizard... Oh, it seems I've taken up too much of your time."
Dumbledore turned toward the door, where faint shuffling sounds could be heard. A moment later, the door creaked open, and an Asian girl peeked in before rushing inside. Upon spotting Dumbledore, she let out a small scream, clutching her robes with an expression of utter panic.
"Good evening, Miss Chang," Dumbledore greeted her with a smile, still holding the box of Cockroach Clusters. "It seems Mr. Von Draugr isn't too fond of sweets. He was kind enough to pass these along to me. Were you here to visit him as well?"
"Uh... I mean, yes, Professor Dumbledore," Cho Chang stammered.
Dumbledore stood up. "Well then, Mr. Von Draugr, I wish you a pleasant evening. Miss Chang, do mind the time; visiting students from other houses could cost you points. I imagine even Professor Flitwick might not be thrilled."
With that, Dumbledore left the room.
Cho dabbed at her forehead with a handkerchief, fanning her flushed face with her hands as she plopped onto the chair beside Nolan's bed. "Oh my god, Merlin above, I thought I was done for!"
Still chewing his toffee, Nolan mumbled, "What are you here for?"
Cho Chang looked genuinely upset. "The Weasley twins were loudly announcing at dinner that you were practically dying! Then Eve burst into tears, and all the girls in Slytherin were comforting her. I thought you were really about to die!"
"I'm not dead," Nolan replied matter-of-factly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "In fact, I'm perfectly healthy."
Cho shot him a glare. "Of course you're healthy, considering almost every first-year girl has been upset about you! If I were you, I wouldn't want to die either!"
Raising an eyebrow, Nolan said indifferently, "Don't be ridiculous. I don't care about that."
"Then what do you care about?" Cho pressed.
After a moment of thought, Nolan asked, "Could you go to the Slytherin common room and bring me my gaming console?"
"Not a chance!"
…
Malcolm Baddock was on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by gratitude—he hadn't eaten proper human food in ages.
Earlier that day, Dumbledore had visited the Slytherin common room, lifted him gently from the sink where he had been trapped, and used magic to restore him to human form.
Granted, Malcolm was covered in goldfish droppings when he transformed back, but he didn't care. What truly thrilled him was that it seemed the other students had forgotten about the humiliating incident on the Hogwarts Express when he wet his pants.
With his embarrassment forgotten, Malcolm was confident he could be the best Slytherin. After all, many of his housemates were half-bloods, but he was a pure-blood, which gave him significant influence in the Slytherin common room.
Freshly bathed, changed into clean robes, and carrying the snacks Dumbledore had given him, Malcolm returned to the common room to find a group of students huddled together, deep in discussion.
"Hey, Montague!" he said, sitting next to Montague Rockman, a strong first-year Slytherin who was also a pure-blood and someone Malcolm genuinely liked. "What's everyone talking about?"
"Camille Smith locked herself in her room and won't come out," Montague said, looking worried. "She seems to think Nolan's injury was her fault."
"What happened?" Malcolm asked, confused.
No one answered him.
"It was her fault!" Miles Bletchley yelled angrily. "If she hadn't pushed Eve, Nolan wouldn't have jumped on that piece of junk broom to save her!"
Another first-year girl, Lora Cook, spoke up in a small voice, "It's all Eve's fault. Why is it that when the two of them fell, only Nolan got hurt? Eve was perfectly fine! Poor Nolan—why does he even like a Mudblood like her..."
Lora trailed off with a sorrowful expression, heading toward the dormitory to check on Camille Smith, who still hadn't emerged.
"She seems really upset," Malcolm noted curiously.
Montague waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, don't be silly. Nolan got hurt; every first-year girl is upset about it."
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