Hogwarts: The Greatest Wizard

Chapter 83– Niffler named Milk Tea

Yes, the act of sniffing for treasure often amounts to a gamble with death.

The places that attract a Niffler's attention—wizarding treasuries or ancient ruins—are hardly the kind of places a wild Niffler can sneak into and come out of unscathed. That's why nature itself weeds out the weak. From birth, only the physically strong little Nifflers survive.

Before long, the rest of the clutch hatched, and the newborns began competing with the first one for position at the entrance of the burrow.

Just as Newt had said, the first to hatch had a definite advantage. It always held the prime spot, and soon enough, the others stopped fighting for it and settled for the corners.

Watching the scene unfold, Phineas couldn't help but smile. He had already decided that unless there was a heterochromatic Niffler in the litter, he would choose the firstborn.

As luck would have it—perhaps thanks to his so-called "European luck"—the first to hatch turned out to be the only heterochromatic Niffler in the bunch.

Over the next couple of days, the little Nifflers grew fast. Just like Newt had said, they started sprouting fur and gradually weaned off milk.

"The little guy's eyes are about to open," Newt told Phineas one day. "If you're planning to raise one yourself, now's the time. Once they've seen their mother, they won't take separation so well. They'll be moody, disobedient, and destructive."

Phineas nodded. He had already made his choice.

He gently tucked the chosen Niffler into his pocket and looked at Newt and the clerk from the Magical Creatures Shop with a smile.

"Well then, I'll take my leave. Thanks for all your help these past few days."

Newt waved a hand dismissively. "It was nothing. You've got real talent with magical creatures. If you ever run into trouble, don't hesitate to write."

Phineas nodded. "Thank you, sir. I'll take you up on that."

As for the shop clerks, they were all smiles. Phineas was a valuable customer, and it wasn't just this Niffler—they could count on future purchases too. Be it owl feed, Kneazle care kits, or specialized Niffler diets, it would all be bought from them.

Before Phineas could Disapparate, one of the clerks rushed over and handed him a bag.

"Mr. Black, here's everything the little Niffler will need. It's best for him to continue with breast milk for now. We've prepared a bottle of that, along with supplementary food—mainly crushed mollusk shells and snail powder."

Phineas took the bag, inspected the contents, and passed it to Puff beside him.

"Thanks. If I need anything else, I'll come back to your store."

He knew full well why the clerks were so eager. In the end, it all came down to money.

The old vaults of the Black family were still full—an underground mountain of gold at Gringotts that had hardly been touched. The family might be fading politically, but it wasn't short on Galleons.

"Alright, let's go."

With a soft pop, Puff grabbed his hand and Apparated them back to 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Kreacher, is the nest I asked for ready?"

The aged house-elf appeared in a blink. "Yes, Master. It's made from model gold coins purchased in the Muggle world."

"Perfect. This is the little one's food. Use the milk for the first few days, then start mixing in the complementary feed," Phineas said, passing the bag from Puff to Kreacher.

Turning to Puff, he added, "I want Chinese food tonight. Tell the kitchen. When it's ready, call me to dinner."

He climbed the stairs to his sixth-floor room. Inside, waiting for him, was the nest Kreacher had prepared.

It was fashioned out of an old tree root, hollowed out on one side and filled with glittering imitation gold coins. Though fake, they shimmered convincingly, mixed with shiny artificial crystals—an ideal environment for a young Niffler.

Training the creature wouldn't require Phineas's personal attention. He had house-elves for that.

He took the little Niffler from his pocket and gently placed it in the nest.

"Alright, little one," he said with a grin. "From now on, your name is Milk Tea."

The tiny creature squeaked twice, seemingly in approval, then nestled deep into the mound of gold and drifted off to sleep.

Like all newborns, sleep took up most of its time.

Watching the tiny, dozing Milk Tea, Phineas smiled and shook his head, then turned to grab the popsicle lying nearby.

He carried it into his study, penned a quick letter, and handed it to the creature.

"Take this to George and Fred, and wait for their reply."

The popsicle chirped in reply, snatched the letter, and flew out through the open window.

George had once invited Phineas to visit their home. That was the purpose of the letter—arranging a proper time for a visit.

The Weasley family, despite their poverty, were still pure-blooded and well-rooted. In fact, the wizarding world generally recognized them by a few signature traits: red hair, freckles, and far too many children.

If not for many Weasleys marrying Muggles or living in the Muggle world, every pure-blooded wizard today might be their cousin. Even as it stands, they're related to nearly every magical family—on par with the old and noble Black family.

The only difference? The Black family had a longer history. They'd been around since the founding of Hogwarts—long before names like Malfoy, Weasley, or Parkinson rose to prominence.