Chapter 217 : Hogsmeade
The system interface finally returned after a long silence, now updated and reorganized. The echo system was canceled, along with specific numerical performance and character cards. In its place was a more refined talent system. From now on, the host could purify their bloodline, spend experience points to unlock abilities, or complete missions to awaken new talents and skills.
All previously collected library passes were converted to experience points at equal value. The mall and gem systems remained intact. Existing echoes were also converted into experience points, with compensation talents unlocked—such as Magic Vision, Magical Physique, and the newly available Third Eye.
The updated mission system brought with it a clearer goal:
Mission: End the threat of the Dark Lord.
As one who seeks to become the greatest wizard, how could you tolerate such a terrorist threatening your era of growth? Destroy the remaining Horcruxes (3/7), and in the final war, defeat the Dark Lord.
Although the upgrade brought major changes, for Phineas, the impact was more philosophical than practical. What interested him most was the new talent system. Unlike the echo system, which never had a reliable way to obtain echoes—especially Professor Jonathan's—this new structure offered a permanent path to special abilities.
Talents like Magic Vision and Magical Physique offered effects similar to Jonathan's echo, but now they were permanent and would not disappear when new ones were gained. That, alone, made the system far superior.
The appearance of the Third Eye talent had an unexpected side effect—it made the lies Phineas told Dumbledore feel like prophecy. His fabricated insights about Divination, originally meant to support Vera's plan, had now become real. The Third Eye granted him legitimate powers of foresight, strengthening the foundation of their strategy.
Most intriguing was the method of unlocking new talents through bloodline purification. This opened the possibility that Phineas could activate Slytherin's bloodline—an ability that would bring him closer to mastering Parseltongue and perhaps even grant him access to the Chamber of Secrets without waiting for events to unfold.
This new path also provided clarity regarding his wand core. Phineas had long hesitated in choosing a material, but now the idea of using a basilisk horn—just like Slytherin—seemed not only fitting, but powerful. A wand attuned to Parseltongue would grant him greater control, aligning perfectly with his goals.
If he truly possessed Slytherin's talent, then waiting for the Chamber of Secrets incident to unfold would no longer be necessary. He could take initiative and guide events on his terms, seizing control of the situation in full.
While the system's upgrade didn't stir much emotion in him, it prompted serious reflection. His path needed to be reconsidered. The appearance of new missions gave him a concrete short-term direction—though in the long run, his goal remained unchanged: to become the greatest wizard and eventually return to his previous world.
The image of the Mirror of Erised—where he had seen his deepest desire—only reinforced that aim.
As he mulled over these thoughts, night passed quietly.
---
The next morning, George and Fred found Phineas in the Room of Requirement. They had arranged a trip to Hogsmeade.
Riding a carriage to the snow-covered village, the three friends enjoyed the festive cheer. The streets bustled with wizards in colorful cloaks, lights twinkled, and fireworks occasionally burst overhead. Hogsmeade, in full holiday spirit, was a sight to behold.
Unlike the Muggle world, where Christmas had taken on deeply religious overtones, the magical world celebrated it in a more secular and traditional way. Muggles might debate whether it marked the birth of the Son of God or some ancient solar deity—but for wizards, it was simpler. Christmas had perhaps once marked a special birth, but now, it was mostly about family and togetherness.
Thanks to the International Statute of Secrecy, the wizarding world had adapted many Muggle customs. Christmas trees lined the streets, strung with red bells that contrasted sharply with the white snow.
"It's much easier to come by carriage than crawling through that tunnel," Fred said with a nostalgic sigh.
Phineas grinned. Fred was right. Back when they first discovered the secret passages on the Marauder's Map, they'd used the one behind the statue of the one-eyed witch the most. It was long, narrow, and damp—like a rabbit warren. The trek to Hogsmeade took an hour and left them freezing.
Phineas, of course, never used it. With Puff, his house elf,he had a far more convenient way to travel. Over the past two years, if he wanted to visit Hogsmeade, Puff would carry him. George, Fred, and Lee Jordan, on the other hand, made the journey on foot—perhaps out of pride or because they were too embarrassed to ask Phineas for help.
As they strolled through the busy streets, George said, "Shall we go to the Three Broomsticks first?"
"Warming up with a butterbeer sounds perfect," Phineas agreed.
They soon reached the famous inn. Just as its name suggested, three broomsticks were mounted above the crooked doorway, arranged in a triangle. The building had that quirky magical charm—its lopsided roof and mismatched windows gave it personality.
Few paid attention to the hanging sign bearing the pub's name—everyone recognized the place on sight.
Surprisingly, it was nearly empty inside, perhaps due to the cold weather or the early hour. They made their way to a cozy table by the fireplace and removed their cloaks.
"I'll get the drinks," Fred offered, and returned shortly with three bottles of butterbeer.
As they chatted, Phineas looked around. The Three Broomsticks was much cleaner and brighter than the Leaky Cauldron. Its tables were polished, the chairs comfortable, and the décor reminded him of a fantasy tavern from one of his old world's games.
"First time here?" George asked, noticing his expression.
Phineas nodded. "Didn't expect it to be so… pleasant. I've actually been thinking about opening a bar someday. I can't live with Sirius forever, and Grimmauld Place doesn't suit either of us."
Fred raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you do, we'll open a joke shop right next to it!"
Phineas chuckled but said nothing. It was a serious idea. If he were to open a bar, it wouldn't be an ordinary one. He'd pair it with Warhammer-style chess pieces he'd once designed, creating a space for wizards to drink, trade, and play.
And of course, he'd open it in Knockturn Alley. A bar there could serve many purposes—not just drinks, but information exchange, job postings, and discreet transactions.
Finishing his butterbeer, he let the warm drink settle in his chest. Though called "beer," it was non-alcoholic, made from butter, caramel, and cream. It suited young witches and wizards perfectly, though Phineas personally preferred juice.
Once their coats were dry and they felt warm again, Phineas stood.
"Alright, time to visit the place you two were dying to see—Zonko's."
The joke shop, located just a house away from Honeydukes, had large windows displaying prank products of every sort—George and Fred's idea of paradise.
As they stepped inside, a bell jingled.
"Welcome!" called a voice.
Zonko, the owner, was slouched behind the counter reading a newspaper. Seeing the trio, he stood and greeted them with a warm smile—though behind it, Phineas sensed weariness.
Zonko was nearing fifty. Once a clever inventor, it had been years since the shop released anything new. The prank business relied on youthful creativity, and age had dulled that edge.
Still, Zonko was a sharp salesman. "Auto-answering quill," he said, gesturing to a feather in the window. "Helps with tests you'd rather skip."
Phineas nodded, but didn't bite. The quill wouldn't help with Hogwarts homework—mostly essays—and during exams, such tools were banned. It was clever but impractical.
Other products included a Runaway Broom, which flipped riders upside down; frog egg soap that made you dirtier; nose-biting teacups; burp candies; and squeaky sweets that made you shriek like a mouse.
Phineas didn't buy anything—he could conjure all these effects with his own magic. But George and Fred went wild, scooping up dungbombs, trick sweets, and one item that alarmed Phineas: the Spiked Flying Disc.
It howled when thrown and tore through paper like a razor.
"I wouldn't recommend that one," Phineas said, watching it shred a napkin. "Someone could lose a nose."
The twins looked sheepish and, to Phineas's relief, swapped it for safer items: an inflatable skeleton and a sticky telescopic hand.
"Alright," Fred said cheerfully, arms full of mischief. "What next?"