Jonathan's responsibilities as a professor made him unwilling to stand by and do nothing.
"Dumbledore, are we just going to watch this happen? I know you understand that child's talent. If he's allowed to grow, his achievements may far surpass even your deranged former student. But if we let him develop in such a hostile environment, he might become someone even more dangerous than Tom."
Dumbledore sighed deeply. "I know, but there's nothing we can do right now—at least, not yet."
Jonathan gave Dumbledore a piercing look.
"You don't trust him. You don't trust an eleven-year-old child. You're testing him. You want to see how he'll react in this situation, don't you?"
Dumbledore gave a slow nod.
"Jonathan, I'm not like you. I'll grow old and die—and I am very old now. Old enough to be called a relic. I must resolve Tom's legacy before I go. I can't risk leaving another Dark Lord behind for future generations."
Jonathan's anger flared. He jumped to his feet, pointing directly at Dumbledore's face.
"So? So you choose not to trust a child—and worse, you deliberately place him in a cruel situation just to test his potential? Dumbledore, did you think you were the so-called greatest white wizard from the start? The wizarding world may revere you, but I knew you before your sainthood. The place where I slumbered remembers me, but it was your sister's death that changed you—only then did you become the 'white wizard' the world now idolizes!"
He took a deep breath, his voice filled with scorn.
"Do all those who call you the savior of the wizarding world and its greatest white wizard know that you were once a master of the Dark Arts? That even now, you no longer need to rely on them to win your battles?"
Dumbledore looked ashamed. Had he been facing anyone else, he might not have shown such a reaction. But Jonathan knew him from the days when he and Gellert Grindelwald had sought the Deathly Hallows together. Arianna's death had jolted Dumbledore from his delusions, but even then, he had turned a blind eye to Gellert's deeds for too long. Only when there was no other way had he dueled him.
The heated room grew silent. Neither man spoke of Phineas anymore, because they both understood the difficulty of solving the situation, even with Dumbledore's intervention.
Because of Dumbledore's earlier deliberate inaction, Phineas's predicament had spread throughout Hogwarts. That reality could not be undone. All they could do now was watch and wait to see how Phineas would respond—and help only if truly necessary.
The next day, Slytherin had no morning classes, and Phineas took the rare chance to catch up on sleep.
His ongoing isolation was giving him a serious headache.
He had originally chosen Hogwarts over Skull because it was more familiar, and because he had believed that he could form lifelong friendships here—bonds that were common among those who studied together in the same year. But reality had dealt him a harsh blow, and now, he was desperate for a way to break the deadlock.
Slytherin's only class that day was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.
All first through fifth-year students were required to take Transfiguration. Only those who achieved high marks on their O.W.L. exams could pursue N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration in their sixth and seventh years.
Professor McGonagall was strict. Before the lesson began, she said firmly,
"Transfiguration is among the most complex and dangerous branches of magic you will study at Hogwarts."
And that was likely why she was so stern.
"Anyone planning to fool around in my class should leave immediately and not return. You've been warned."
With that, she gave a dazzling demonstration—transfiguring a table into a pig and back again—officially beginning the lesson.
Thanks to years of practice and the System's card draws, Phineas quickly completed the assignment: transforming a matchstick into a needle.
"Excellent! Mr. Black has succeeded in the transfiguration. I will award Slytherin five points."
It was the first time Phineas had earned any house points. As Professor McGonagall finished speaking, the "Academy Treasure Chest" progress bar on his system interface jumped by 20%. Clearly, the 100 points required to open the chest did not align one-to-one with actual house points. Based on this, it seemed the conversion rate might be one real point to four system points. Meaning Phineas needed only 25 actual points to open the treasure chest.
It was the best news he'd had in days.
At the same time, Phineas noticed a new mission had appeared in his Task System: Explore the Secrets of Hogwarts.
It was divided into four stages, but at the moment, none had been unlocked.
Wednesdays were the busiest days for Slytherin. Two Herbology classes were scheduled in the morning.
Professor Pomona Sprout, Headmistress of Hufflepuff, taught the subject. She was kind, cheerful, and incredibly patient with her students.
Herbology was part of the O.W.L. curriculum and mandatory for all Hogwarts students through fifth year. Students with strong marks could take N.E.W.T.-level Herbology in sixth year.
In Herbology, students studied magical plants. Over time, the material became more difficult and dangerous. In first year, the focus was on dittany and devil's snare.
Motivated by Professor McGonagall's reward and his System's progress, Phineas threw himself into the lesson. His past reading and early study paid off. He earned more praise and another point in Herbology.
Later in the day came Charms class with Professor Filius Flitwick, who had to stand on a stack of books to be seen behind his desk. Flitwick also complimented Phineas's talent and growth in the subject, which resulted in yet another bonus point.
With his confirmation that gaining house points directly fueled the System's treasure chest progress, Phineas became increasingly obsessed with earning more. One could even call it... a frenzy.