The obscure alchemist branch of the Black family had long followed strict traditions. They upheld the values of blood purity, marrying only other pure-bloods—often within their own extended line. This insularity ensured their magical heritage remained focused: they abandoned broader spellcraft in favor of one discipline—alchemy.
Ten years ago, during the height of the Dark Lord's power, life had become extremely difficult for this secluded branch. But after Phineas discovered their existence, he immediately sent Kreacher to deliver gold and supplies to ease their hardship.
Now, this reclusive group represented one of the last complete bloodlines within the Black family. The First Wizarding War had devastated their numbers; many had perished—some at the hands of the Dark Lord himself, others while opposing him.
Phineas didn't wholly trust anyone, but he trusted them enough. At the very least, they could be counted on to create a single object, especially when they didn't even know what it was for.
That's why Phineas had instructed Puff to cast a spell on the ring's blueprint—one that made it impossible to reproduce. The design could not be copied, photographed, or duplicated. Only one ring could be made.
Phineas wasn't naïve. His sense of familiarity with the design suggested he might not be the sole heir to Rowena Ravenclaw. He was prepared for that. But just because others might exist didn't mean he intended to let them rise—not while he was alive.
The crafting process would take time. And during that period, Phineas would return to his usual, isolated life—alone in the vast corridors of Hogwarts.
The situation troubled several professors.
Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and others who believed in Phineas's talent had long grown concerned. They wanted to improve his situation—but their hands were tied. Short of placing the other students under the Imperius Curse, there was no way to change their minds.
The problem was clear: prejudice.
It wasn't really about Phineas. It was about what he represented. Slytherin House, which had supported the Dark Lord most fervently, saw Phineas as a threat—especially after his actions had exposed and disrupted their hidden agendas. Their hatred ran deep. Even though he was a Slytherin himself—like most Blacks—his presence brought more enmity than pride.
The other Houses weren't much better.
Gryffindors were as bold and brash as ever. They didn't think—they gossiped. Ravenclaws, being clever, trusted only their own judgment, which made them equally difficult to sway. Only Hufflepuffs remained largely unaffected. They offered simple smiles and kind indifference, not probing, not judging. Most of the time, when they saw Phineas, they didn't look at his robes—or his House—at all.
Professor Sprout had once even suggested to Dumbledore that Phineas be transferred to Hufflepuff.
But the Sorting Hat's decision was final. It had stood for over a thousand years, and no student had ever changed Houses.
Dumbledore refused. Whether it was truly out of respect for tradition or for reasons more deeply rooted in the school's politics, no one could say.
Time passed, and December arrived.
By the second week, Professor McGonagall began gathering the names of students who would be returning home for the Christmas holidays, and those who would remain at Hogwarts. It was part of the usual routine, to ensure proper supervision during the break.
Hogwarts followed the same academic calendar as most European magical schools—divided into three terms, with the main holidays being Christmas, Easter, and the long summer break.
Ordinarily, Phineas would have chosen to return home for the holidays. Having grown up in the magical world, he wasn't bound by the Ministry's underage magic restrictions in the same way Muggle-born students were. The Ministry couldn't track who was casting magic in a purely magical household—so he could continue his studies undisturbed.
And yet, this year, he chose to stay.
Why?
Because Kreacher had sent word: the Ravenclaw ring was expected to be completed on Christmas Day.
It was the perfect opportunity.
The holidays meant no classes, no schedule, and few eyes watching. If ever there was a time to explore the secrets of the Room of Requirement—to claim whatever inheritance Ravenclaw had hidden—it was now.
Most students, including nearly all of Slytherin House, had already made plans to go home. The term had been light on workload, and the appeal of a holiday with family outweighed the monotony of the castle.
In the end, only a handful of Hufflepuffs and the Weasley siblings from Gryffindor remained.
Despite the small number of students, Hogwarts still prepared a magnificent Christmas feast—one of the four grand dinners held each year.
The Great Hall was already being decorated.
Hagrid had dragged in several pine trees, which now stood bare and waiting for enchantment. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall were leading the effort, with a few capable students helping.
As Phineas entered the hall, he was met with a shout.
"Oh, Phineas! Perfect timing—help me move that tree to the corner!" Professor Flitwick called, pointing toward an undecorated space.
The Great Hall was already transformed—wreathed in holly and mistletoe, and filled with Christmas trees of all sizes. Some glittered with icicles; others sparkled with floating candles.
Phineas used the Levitation Charm to move the bare sapling into place, then began decorating it using Transfiguration spells.
"Excellent work. If it weren't the holidays, I'd give Slytherin a few points for that Transfiguration," McGonagall said, appearing beside him and smiling faintly.
"Tomorrow starts the Christmas holiday. I thought you'd have chosen to leave the castle."