There was no need to ask. Such a generous gift — a potion of the highest quality — could only have come from that arrogant "King of Serpents": Professor Severus Snape.
Who else, besides him, would be capable of giving something so valuable?
"It seems he and my parents really were close friends," Harry murmured as he carefully examined the vial of Felix Felicis. The golden light shimmering inside was utterly captivating.
Inside the box, there was a small note.
Harry reached in, took it out, and unfolded it. It read:
[Keep it safe. Don't let your useless troll of a friend knock it over — SS]
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked the "useless troll," Ron, justifiably offended.
Harry said nothing and simply handed him the note.
Ron took it, and the moment he finished reading, he was completely dumbfounded.
"That's incredibly insulting!" he protested angrily. "But… it's Felix Felicis — a top-grade potion! Even this tiny amount would sell for hundreds of Galleons!"
After a brief pause, he frowned.
"SS? Who's that supposed to be?"
"Professor Snape," Harry replied, carefully slipping the Felix Felicis into his pocket. "Severus Snape. SS."
"Oh!" Ron's eyes widened. "Then he really is generous… I guess you were right. He truly must have been close to your parents. That photo was definitely the right gift."
"It was," Harry said with a smile, spearing a piece of meat with his fork.
"So, where are we going later?"
Ron picked up another chicken leg, thought for a moment, then felt something was still missing. With his other hand, he grabbed yet another leg and finally smiled in satisfaction.
"We're going to the Room of Requirement," Harry said calmly after swallowing his food. "But we're not practicing magic today. I've discovered a new use for it."
"A new use?" Ron's interest was immediately piqued. "Then I definitely have to see that—"
Just as Harry and Ron returned to the dormitory, an unexpected visitor arrived at the Headmaster's Office.
He was a goblin with thinning hair, an unremarkable appearance, and noticeably misaligned eyes.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, Merry Christmas," the goblin said, bowing slightly. His voice was rough and unpleasant.
Dumbledore nodded politely.
"Merry Christmas to you as well, Bodrick. It's already quite late, so if you have something important to discuss, please be direct. An old man like me needs his sleep."
He knew this goblin well — Bodrick the Cross-Eyed, spokesperson for the Goblin Brotherhood.
"A dreadful incident occurred in Diagon Alley," Bodrick said. "A Dark wizard was transformed into a Flobberworm and trampled to death. I saw the body myself… it was horrifying. It brought back very unpleasant memories."
"I don't consider the death of a Dark wizard to be a tragedy," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Nor do I see why it should evoke bad memories. Besides, I am merely the Headmaster of Hogwarts, not the Minister for Magic. Perhaps you should speak to Cornelius Fudge instead."
"No, you don't understand, Dumbledore!" Bodrick nearly snarled. "It's him! He's back! That villain whose name must not even be spoken!"
"Voldemort?" Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly, but he quickly sensed something was amiss.
No — Voldemort would never waste time transforming someone into a Flobberworm before crushing them. He preferred Avada Kedavra: swift and final.
"No… it's someone else," Bodrick trembled. "Harry Potter!"
"Harry Potter?" Dumbledore looked mildly surprised before understanding dawned. The goblin was referring to the Harry Potter from a hundred years ago.
"Yes! Harry Potter!" Bodrick whispered. "He's back. He truly is back. That's how he treated goblins — transforming them into small animals, dragging them underfoot, and crushing them to death. Headmaster Dumbledore, I know there is a new student at Hogwarts with that name. Please allow me to meet him. I suspect that he—"
"Bodrick!" Dumbledore's once-kind expression darkened instantly. "I will not allow you to harass my students. And what happened a hundred years ago was a goblin rebellion. That Harry Potter did nothing wrong!"
"I know… I know…" Bodrick muttered, trembling. "I only wish to see him. To make a deal. A hundred years have passed, and we goblins no longer harbor such thoughts. Many of us died back then… we cannot afford further losses."
"But this Harry is merely a student of Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied coldly. "He is not the man from a hundred years ago. As Headmaster, I will not permit you to disturb my students."
"Not even then?" Bodrick took a deep breath. "This is not only for the goblins — it is for Hogwarts itself. A rational Headmaster would never refuse such a proposal."
Dumbledore remained silent, a flicker of displeasure flashing behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Dumbledore! You will regret this!" Bodrick shouted as he stood.
"Bodrick," Dumbledore replied calmly, "I am the Headmaster."
The goblin snorted resentfully, turned, and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
Dumbledore remained seated, his eyes thoughtful behind his spectacles.
Bodrick's words had indeed stirred something within him.
The idea that Harry was the same Harry from a hundred years ago was absurd.
And yet…
Harry Potter was undeniably extraordinary.
Before the winter holidays, during the conflict between Gryffindor and Slytherin, Dumbledore had observed everything from afar, within the Headmaster's Tower.
He had witnessed firsthand how Harry used magic to defeat several older students — including Miss Faley, a Slytherin prefect.
Logically, a first-year student should not be so exceptional. Not even Dumbledore himself had been that capable at such an age.
"Perhaps it's the lingering effect of Lily's ancient protection charm," Dumbledore mused.
Regardless, he would need to observe the boy more closely — to determine whether Harry had been influenced by any Dark magical artifacts.
With that in mind, Dumbledore rose and began forming a plan.
He knew all too well that children Harry's age, once given an Invisibility Cloak, would never resist the temptation to use it immediately.
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