From Hogwarts to Sturhaven

“I will write a paper explaining the principles of the pneumatic spell in detail. As for the patent documents and the equity transfer agreement, you will need to handle those yourself,” Ivy instructed him without any hesitation.

"What?" Whitehorn exclaimed in astonishment. "You... didn't patent your Pneumatic Charm? Aren't you afraid of me...?"

Before he could finish speaking, Ivy's gaze choked him, a deep darkness seemingly trying to engulf him through eye contact.

Whitehorn shuddered, and then he heard Ivy's voice coming from a distant place.

“I will remember, Mr. Whitehorn. Magic is might…”

“Okay…” Whitehorn couldn’t help but reply, then as if trying to come to his senses, he quickly asked, “Do you have any other instructions, Mr. Doom? After all, you’re already a shareholder of the Nimbus Racing Broom Company!”

"There's no need to use the pneumatic spell on Lightwheel 2001. Just launch it on time and use it as a smokescreen for the competitors." Ivy thought for a moment. Lightwheel's biggest competitor in the future would undoubtedly be Fire Arrow, which hadn't even started advertising yet. A little strategic deception was still necessary.

"As for the new broom, let's give it a groundbreaking name."

"For example?" Whitehorn leaned forward, looking both respectful and impatient.

"For example... Nimbus 2077?" Ivy had never thought about this question, so he just subconsciously recited a number he was familiar with.

“It’s…it’s really groundbreaking…” Whitehorn looked awkward, as if he hadn’t expected Ivy to say such an indescribable name.

"Let's put the name issue aside for later. I need to get back to the patent application and equity transfer documents as soon as possible, so I won't stay for the banquet," Whitehorn said, nodding slightly.

Then he hesitated for a moment before handing over the Nimbus 2001 in his hand: "Mr. Doom, I hope you can accept this Nimbus 2001 as a testament to our cooperation."

“Ah, Devlin.” Watching Ivy stuff Nimbus 2001 into the Grimoire of Destruction under Malfoy’s envious gaze, Lucius suddenly called out affectionately to Whitehorn, who was about to leave, “Do you know that Mr. Doom is now a member of the Slytherin Quidditch team? Perhaps we can sponsor a batch of flying brooms for the Slytherin school team in the name of Nimbus Corporation.”

"Don't even think about it, Lucius!" Whitehorn rejected Lucius's offer without hesitation. "I know all too well Slytherin's reputation at Hogwarts. Doing this would cost me a lot of potential customers! Even if my two major shareholders are Slytherins, it won't work! If you want sponsorship, you'll have to pay for it yourself. I'll give you a 10% discount at most!"

"Hmph." Lucius pursed his lips, the enthusiasm on his face vanishing as quickly as a bubble, replaced by the familiar aristocratic tone. "Very well, seven Nimbus 2001s. I hope to see the Slytherin team riding them on the Quidditch pitch after the Christmas holidays."

"As expected of the head of the Malfoy family, what a generous gesture!" Whitehorn wore a warm smile and kept praising Lucius's extravagance.

"What about me, Dad?" Malfoy stared wide-eyed at his father, unable to believe that he wasn't included.

“Quiet, Draco, you deserve a better broom.” Lucius tugged at his son’s arm, immediately silencing him.

"Seven brooms should be mailed directly to Hogwarts, addressed to Mr. Doom, who is now the coach of the Slytherin team." After giving this instruction, Lucius nodded to Ivy and then prepared to see Whitehorn off from Malfoy Manor.

Ivy narrowed his eyes; he wasn't too keen on Lucius's sudden sponsorship. He believed that with his training, those trolls would be able to sweep aside the other Quidditch teams at Hogwarts, and if the trolls had equipment, his teaching skills might not be as effective.

However, he hadn't taken the Quidditch Cup result too seriously. Now that he had Nimbus 2001, all he needed to do was limit Harry's performance in the upcoming match against Gryffindor, and maybe they could win even more easily.

"Draco," Ivy murmured, "I haven't given you a Christmas present yet, have I? Then it's yours."

The Grimoire of Destruction moved without wind, and the tiny ceramic fire dragon once again crawled out of the pages, this time wearing a sleeping cap, looking rather comical.

"What? Me?" Malfoy could hardly believe his ears; the thing he had been longing for had actually come true. He immediately picked up the dragon and the nightcap, cheering with great joy.

Chapter 71 The Holiday Ends

Pleasant holidays always pass too quickly, so much so that before people have a chance to savor them, they've already become yesterday's bubble.

For Ivy, the Christmas holidays were quite fulfilling. Besides replying to the Slytherin students' greeting cards, she was writing her paper on the Pneumatic Charm. She was also exchanging letters with Whitehorn about designing a new flying broomstick.

As for Tom Riddle's diary? Ivy had no interest in conducting dark magic experiments in a completely unprotected mansion. To maintain his virtuous and upright wizarding image, Ivy had paid a hefty price with his wand; he would never recklessly use dark magic like "Avada Kedavra" and risk being listed as a suspect by the Ministry of Magic.

Unless he can bypass the Ministry of Magic's surveillance—and I don't mean by "mingling in wizarding communities," but rather by some more ingenious method, such as casting one of the "Three Unforgivable Curses" with his gaze—it's truly unbearable for someone like Ivy, who spends his days surrounded by dark magic, not being able to use "Avada Kedavra" to spit something out.

As the saying goes, stillness breeds restlessness. During his time at Malfoy Manor, Ivy's greatest form of exercise was riding Nimbus 2001 in circles. He couldn't wait to find some unlucky creatures in the Forbidden Forest to warm up his skills, preferably those that looked ugly, possessed a certain degree of danger and commercial value, and could provide a lot of experience points.

That's right, it's the eight-eyed giant spider. Thanks to Hagrid's meticulous care, these furry little darlings almost overwhelmed the Forbidden Forest's ecosystem. Over a hundred years ago, Ivy fought dark wizards in the Forbidden Forest; over a hundred years later, she's fighting eight-eyed giant spiders there. Isn't that a testament to her dedication?

As for Malfoy, ever since he received Ivy's ceramic dragon on Christmas Day, he has spent the rest of the Christmas holidays glued to the little dragon day and night.

One day, he almost suffocated from the black magic nightcap that Charmander used to build his nest. If the ceramic Charmander hadn't set his nest on fire with a breath of fire and given Malfoy a perm, the manor would be holding its seventh-day memorial service right now.

From then on, Malfoy loved chasing the ceramic dragon around the mansion, causing trouble for the house-elf Dobby everywhere. His favorite prank was to command the dragon to breathe fire everywhere, and it had already burned the curtains of at least three windows.

In the end, Malfoy abandoned the "Nightsmoke" suggestion he had made to Ivy, and instead gave the ceramic dragon a rather strange name—"Thuban," which sounds like "Teben" or something similar. According to him, the word stands for "Alpha Draco," because Malfoy's own name, "Draco," refers to the constellation Draco, so "Thuban" can be roughly understood as "Draco's number one underling."

This naming convention clearly comes from the Black family, whose names are almost all derived from various constellations. Sirius is a given, his brother Regulus's name refers to a first-magnitude star in Leo, and his cousin Bellatrix's name refers to a bright star in Orion.

As a member of the Black family, Narcissa brought this naming tradition to the Malfoy family, naming her son "Draco," and now her son has named his pet "Alpha Draco," which can be considered a kind of inheritance.

After Ivy packed the last piece of luggage into the Grimoire of Destruction, an unexpected character appeared before him—Dobby, the house-elf.

He had bat-like ears, a long, thin nose, and a pair of very prominent green eyes, the size of tennis balls, that almost popped out of their sockets.

Although Ivy was always aware of his existence, the greyish-brown little elf rarely appeared at Malfoy Manor. This was because good house-elves wouldn't let their owners know they were there, especially not when guests were present.

Ivy guessed that Lucius had specifically instructed Dobby not to appear in front of him. For a wizarding family that prided itself on being pure-blooded nobles, having a dirty house-elf appear before guests was undoubtedly a breach of etiquette.

However, Ivy thought what was even more rude of them was letting Dobby be dressed so dirty and disheveled. Didn't they feel uncomfortable eating food made by house-elves? Shouldn't they at least have given Dobby a clean pillowcase?

“Dobby sends his greetings…” The house-elf’s fingers twisted nervously together, almost too afraid to look up at Ivy, “Harry Potter’s friend…”

“Harry Potter’s friend?” Ivy narrowed her eyes. “You peeked at my letter?”

Ever since Ivy sent out the Bird of Prey quills from the Iron Triangle, she received several apologetic letters from Hogwarts, from Harry and Ron, who were lingering by the Mirror of Erised. In their letters, they earnestly assured Ivy that they would definitely return the favor next Christmas.

Ivy had a particularly vivid memory of Ron's letter, in which he used a long string of obscure words to express that the quill pen would save him from the endless homework assigned by the professors for the remaining six and a half years at Hogwarts.

"No! Dobby didn't mean it!" Dobby cried out in pain, kneeling on the floor and banging his forehead against the ground. "When I was tidying up your room, Dobby accidentally saw the automatic letter-writing quill on the table... Dobby couldn't control his curiosity! Dobby only glanced at it, but he immediately saw the name of the great 'Harry Potter'!"

The thud of Dobby hitting the floor with his forehead stopped abruptly because Ivy had cast a human immobilization spell on him that had been in his eyes all along.

In the magical world, house-elves like Dobby and the goblins of Gringotts are humanoid beings, so the Human Freeze spell works on them. However, when facing the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest, Ivy must use the 5th-level Monster Freeze spell, because they refuse to share the identity of "human" with creatures like humans, she-wolves, hags, and vampires.

“Alright, stop.” Ivy used telekinesis to make Dobby get up from the ground. “I forgive you, Dobby.”

“But… Dobby has made a terrible mistake…” His tennis ball-shaped green eyes were filled with tears of guilt, but his body was controlled by Ivy’s magic, preventing him from wiping himself with his dirty pillowcase.

"Come on, I'm in a hurry to get to school. Just say what you have to say." Ivy waved his hand impatiently. House-elves are so subservient that even normal communication with them is a problem. Compared to Dobby and the house-elves in the castle, Ivy was still more used to Dick, the house-elf that Professor Weasley lent him more than a hundred years ago.

Although the two came from different houses, Professor Weasley, as the vice-headmaster, selflessly helped Ivy a great deal. Perhaps part of Ivy's reason for treating Ron, the young Weasley, differently was to repay Professor Weasley.

"Mr. Dobby, Harry Potter's friend... hopes you can help deliver this gift to him..."

Chapter 72 Hagrid's Hut

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" Ivy pounded on the wooden door of Hagrid's Hut. On the first day of the new Hogwarts term, he had sneaked out into the Forbidden Forest to harass the giant spiders. After taking down several giant spiders as big as packhorses, Ivy came to visit his big friend, feeling quite satisfied.

“It must be Ivy!” Hagrid’s voice came from behind the door, but it was Ron who opened the door for Ivy.

"Hey! Come on in! Hagrid's already brewed the tea!"

The trio seemed no different than before the Christmas holidays. Ever since Professor McGonagall forbade them from discussing anything related to the Philosopher's Stone, they seemed to have realized that the most responsible party for protecting the Philosopher's Stone in the castle was the powerful adult wizards.

So during this Christmas holiday, Harry and Ron had a carefree and enjoyable time, especially after Harry received his father's Invisibility Cloak. They could freely explore the entire castle and go to places they would never normally dare to dream of.

“We’re admiring the gift you gave me, Ivy!” Hagrid patted Ivy on the shoulder with his hand, which was several times larger than a pot lid, and pulled him to a sofa made of a pile of unknown animal fur. Next to the fur sofa was Hagrid’s big dog, Tooth, who was always a little afraid of Ivy, but at this moment it was wagging its tail ingratiatingly.

As soon as Ivy sat down, Hagrid brought over a plate of rock-hard snacks—rock-skin cakes—and a pot of strong hot tea.

"Ivy's gift is absolutely amazing!" Hagrid said this so casually that it seemed he had told others this more than once.

“I really didn’t expect…” Hagrid blew his nose forcefully, “that you would turn that day’s scene into a magical statue. I have Buckbeak carry me around the house almost every day… You’re so thoughtful, Ivy!”

Harry and Ron couldn't agree more; they both loved the quill pen.

Only Hermione showed a disapproving look.

“You really shouldn’t spoil them.” Hermione shook her head seriously, her tightly pursed lips reminiscent of Professor McGonagall, perhaps she was just subconsciously imitating the most authoritative figure she knew.

"If they all use the quill pens you give them to do their homework, what will they learn? Don't forget there are final exams this semester!"

Seeing Harry and Ron's embarrassed expressions, Ivy laughed and said, "Ah, so Hermione caught you using the quill pen to do your homework after only one day back at the castle? I thought you would at least try to avoid her until a week later."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, their expressions revealing that they had no intention of hiding it from Hermione.

Before the mother bird could get angry, Ron quickly changed the subject: "You know what, Ivy, we found a magic mirror in an empty classroom! Dumbledore said it reflects people's desires, and it even reflects Harry's family, even though he doesn't know what they look like!"

Harry nodded in agreement; as the person directly involved, he was the one who understood the magic of the Mirror of Erised best.

"You should be glad Professor Dumbledore only advised you not to get too carried away, instead of deducting points from your score!" Mother Bird was still angry. "Three nights in a row! I don't know where you got the guts! If the other Gryffindors find out that a lot of the gems in the hourglass are missing after the holidays, you two will be in real trouble!"

“Harry has the Invisibility Cloak…” Ron muttered, wanting to say something more, but seeing Hermione’s eyes that seemed to want to devour him, he ultimately said nothing.

"If I remember correctly, the castle is pretty deserted during the Christmas holidays, right?" Ivy thought for a moment. "Then why don't you go during the day? The mirror is just in an empty classroom, it's not like it's forbidden territory, there's no need to sneak out at night to see it, is there?"

"Hiss—" Harry gasped, his voice so loud it sounded like he was speaking in Parsley.

"Ivy!" Harry, quick to react, interrupted Hermione before she could speak, because Ivy's question made him and Ron seem like the kind of people who were determined to break some school rules, but everyone knew they were just a little reckless.

“I remember you wrote in the note that you were going to deliver a gift?” Harry continued, still trying very hard to recall what was on the note. “From… a house-elf?”

“House elf,” Ron quickly corrected him.

“Yes, house-elves,” Harry corrected himself. “Do they look like Gringotts goblins?”

"They might be about the same height?" Ivy recalled the differences between the two and said uncertainly, "They could be closely related. But I've never researched that. Also, this is a gift from Dobby to you."

Ivy pulled out a ring woven from dried flowers. As a house-elf, Dobby wasn't allowed to own private property, and everything in Malfoy Manor belonged to its owners. Dobby couldn't possibly take things away without permission. He wondered how many times he'd banged his head against the floor while picking these flowers from the garden, or if he'd put his ears in an oven to heat them up.

"So, this is the gift that the house-elf is going to give me?" Harry took the dried flower ring, puzzled, unable to imagine who would give such a thing as a Christmas present.

However, compared to the coins the Dursleys sent, Harry probably preferred the dried flower ring. At least the person who made it had put some effort into it.

“That’s really strange,” Ron remarked. “I’ve never heard of house-elves giving gifts to other wizards before.”

"What is a house-elf?" Hermione, who was born into Muggle, had never seen this term in any of the thick books.

“You didn’t know?” Ron looked excited. “It’s a magical creature that serves wizards and helps their masters with everything in the house. It’s loyal and will never betray them! My mother has always wanted a house-elf to help iron clothes. Think about it, she has seven children.”