84 84. Let’s Eat Meat

Miracle—Absolute talent—Merlin incarnate.

The words used for Happy after his discovery came to light made the wizards feel they needed to increase their vocabulary. What was Blood Malediction? An incurable deadly disease that, once cast, could ruin the entire bloodline. It could appear in any of the future generations randomly and slowly kill them by weakening the body or, worse, turning them into an animal permanently until they completely lose their minds.

Happy returned to school after making his wondrous discovery. He didn't care about the cure as it was a product of his luck and not his mind. He didn't feel like taking full credit for it but couldn't divulge the truth either.

For the most part, nobody had any idea about what had happened outside. That was until the owls came to sell newspapers the next morning. It was the last day at the school before the end of the term and the beginning of the winter holidays.

"BLIMEY!" Ron jumped to his feet, his mouth stuffed with pancakes. "When did you do this, Happy?!"

"What?" Harry snatched the paper and looked. A second later, he read it closely and remained flabbergasted.

"What is it?" Then Hermione took it and behaved the same way, occasionally glancing at Happy as she asked. "Happy, is this real… and stop eating like a mad man, for God's sake, who uses forks in both hands to eat pancakes?"

Happy smirked, "Happy Lestrange does… and yes, I did it yesterday. Professor Snape was there too. The patient survived, and my potion worked."

Happy remained nonchalant about it. However, gradually, others caught wind of the news, and everyone started buying copies of the paper and took a look. Eventually, just as usual, heads turned to look at Happy.

"You just cured the wizarding equivalent of cancer," Hermione claimed proudly. But then she thought of something. "Any chance you can also cure muggle cancer?"

"Probably, but I don't know. The basics behind my potion were magic, so as long as the cancer is somewhat similar to Blood Malediction, it should work. But if not, then it's just very nasty water. However, even if it works, how will anyone explain it to the muggles? This isn't China or India with their traditional medicine that everyone could accept."

Hermione nodded, mumbling to herself. "You're right…"

"Lestrange."

All of a sudden, another voice came, and Happy turned to look behind himself. And there stood a pretty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl with a proud face. Her chin held high, and she had a firm expression.

Happy gulped down the pancakes and responded. "Yes? You're Daphne Greengrass, aren't you?"

The girl blushed all of a sudden, and her proud aura seemed to fade away. It was replaced with shyness and an uncertain tone. "Y-Yes… I am. Lestrange, I would like to thank you for making the cure for my sister. My father sent me the letter detailing what you did—and now, Astoria is cured. She received the potion after Father came to fetch her last night."

Happy smiled happily, being the free spirit he was. Perhaps, the only difference between him and Koko was that he was a human and could speak. "That's wonderful to hear, Daphne, and just call me Happy, like everyone else."

She blushed and extended her hand suddenly. "Let's be friends."

Happy shrugged and grabbed her hand, shaking it firmly. "Come, sit with us, and eat. I'll show you my latest creation—ice cream, honey, chocolate pancake sandwich."

"..."

Daphne looked at the table and back at Happy's face. She didn't want to be rude but couldn't bring herself to sit there with Gryffindor. "I will… perhaps try it next time. Again, thank you, Happy."

With that, she rushed back toward the Slytherin table. However, there were two firm eyes fixed on Dephne, observing her face cautiously—the eyes belonged to a certain Asian girl, who was herself confused about her emotions.

"You're such a dimwit," Hermione suddenly commented.

Happy angrily scoffed. "Hmph… No ice cream, honey, or chocolate pancake sandwich for you, then. It's only reserved for the smartest of us gentlemen—what about you, Ron? Will you try it?"

"Sure."

Hermione pouted. "Smartest, indeed."

"..."

Happy chuckled and looked at the newspaper in the meantime to see what Rita even wrote about him.

[Merlin Reincarnate! The Greatest Invention of the Millenia!: Happy Lestrange, recipient of the Order of Merlin, Second Class—concocted the cure for Blood Malediction all by himself. The effects of the potions were observed by the Chief Healer of Saint Mungo's herself. In her own words, she was shocked and excited by simply thinking about what else the Merlin Reincarnate will show us.

For now, one thing remains certain. The wizarding world must thank the young wizard for his great contribution to wizardkind. Now, we have one less deadly disease to worry about— From the desk of your favorite reporter, Rita Skeeter.]

Happy bobbed his head in agreement with everything the woman had written.

"You're gonna be richer than the entire world, mate," Ron muttered. "With this creation to your name, you can name the price and earn a lot of money."

Happy shrugged. "What money? I'm only the creator, but the recipe of the potion will remain in the public domain. Meaning that any potioneer of the hospital in the world can make this potion and provide it to the public—of course, I'll put a price cap on it, so people don't exploit it since the ingredients are already expensive."

"Ah… Sorry." Hermione apologized. "You're not dumb. You're very noble."

Happy smirked. "That's right… Now feed me pancakes, girl. Only then you will be forgiven."

"..."

Hermione pouted again. "Ah… I changed my mind."

The two knew they were joking with each other, so they didn't mind their playful banter. In the end, they were all happy and entertained. Though, only Ron was shocked that Happy would let so much money go. The poor boy had no idea Happy was already among the richest on the planet.

"You three, I will be seeing you after the winter holiday then." Happy changed the topic. "Harry—Stay vigilant. Never go anywhere alone, for your own sake. Sirius isn't the only person out there to get you."

Harry nodded. "My classes with Professor Lupin are going great. I'll soon be able to cast a Patronus. He's also telling me about my parents and their childhood… and about the things they did as youngsters… with Snape and others."

Happy felt some weight lifted off of his chest. "Don't be sad, Harry. Young people do stupid things, especially when they come from a rich background where they never faced any hardship since birth—that was the case with your father. I mean, look at Malfoy! He was a bully until I took him under my wing, and now he's at least better—sadly, your father didn't have someone like that, but instead another wild man, Sirius.

"Of course, he did change after growing up, but I'm afraid the damage had already been done by then… damage that's still showing its effects."

Harry wholeheartedly agreed with Happy, and when he drew comparisons with Malfoy, he could somewhat understand why his father had been such a bully in the past. And at the same time, he could somewhat understand the reason behind Snape's grumpiness. It had reduced a lot, but it was still visible.

"I hope I can clear things out," Harry muttered.

"It takes time. Focus on survival for now." Happy changed the subject again. It wasn't the time to approach Snape yet. Not before Sirius and Lupin were ready to accept their faults as well.

Soon enough, morning breakfast came to an end, and classes went on as usual. Of course, the topic of discussion in the entire school was Happy, and heck, the craziest thing happened in the potions lab when Snape openly praised Happy.

"...for the magnificent accomplishment of Mr. Lestrange at such a young age… fifty points to Gryffindor."

The eyes of the Slytherin students almost fell out after that incident, and with that, Happy became even more famous as the only student to get so many points from Snape.

However, that was merely the start of the amazing day as each professor went on to praise Happy. It was truly not a small thing that he had done, not something that could be brushed aside.

Fifty Points from McGonagall.

Fifty Points from Flitwick.

Ten Points from Remus Lupin.

Fifty Points from Hagrid.

Fifty Points from Sprout.

And Happy found himself sitting in front of Dumbledore soon enough, and there, even the portraits were full of praise since word spread quite quickly.

'Isn't this getting a bit too much?' Happy genuinely felt the power of luck was getting too excessive, reaffirming the hypothesis that the stronger he got, the stronger his luck was becoming.

Dumbledore, as usual, drank some tea and ate lemon cookies. He poured a cup for Happy as well. "I should deduct points for sneaking out of the school in the middle of the night. However, I find myself conflicted. Feeding the poor and now curing those deemed cursed to death—you are doing more for the world than any human or wizard in history has ever accomplished. Yet, I don't see that pride and achievement making you arrogant, and for that, I am extremely proud of you, Happy."

Happy smiled from ear to ear. "Thank you, Professor."

"You should be arrogant."

"..."

"Umm… What do you mean, Professor?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard and walked over to his bookshelf. "Excessive humility at times is perceived as weakness by others, Happy. Now that your name is spreading throughout the wizarding world, many will come to see you, ask you for favors, and offer you things—but you must show the pride and arrogance of a Lestrange in those moments. That is how you can deter those who wish to wrong you… as long as your heart remains pure, a little bit of acting can help you."

'This old man… I called him Grandpa once, and now he's actually acting like a grandpa… I don't mind really.'

"Thank you, Professor. I'll keep that in mind. If something happens, I'll surely come to find you."

"As you should." Dumbledore nodded. "Now, you must be getting late to prepare your luggage for tomorrow. Flamel is eagerly awaiting you, and after this news, he must be getting restless—he has been searching for a successor for a long time."

Dumbledore cryptically gave him a hint that Happy understood quite well. But they didn't discuss it.

"Thank you, Professor… I'll go now."

Dumbledore nodded. "One more thing… One hundred points to Gryffindor!"

"..."

'Old man, you're just using me now… I know you want to make it a thousand, just because it's Gryffindor.'

Happy just smiled and left. It was time to head out and annoy a different old man.

…

The next day,

In France, Happy appeared before the gigantic ancient-looking mansion. He passed through its imposing gates and stopped near the wooden door. But, instead of knocking, he roared like an excited boy scout selling cookies.

"OLD MAN FLAMEL! HAPPY IS HERE!"

"You're late!" The old man's voice came from inside, along with approaching footsteps.

Happy grinned and shouted again.

"Old man! Let's eat BASILISK MEAT!"

"..."