The morning after Pip’s remarkable discovery began quietly.
Soft golden light poured through the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, illuminating long house tables where students finished breakfast and prepared for their first lessons.
Owls fluttered overhead.
Plates of toast and porridge slid along the table magically.
At the Slytherin table, Mira Silverthorne sat beside Draco Malfoy, scribbling down notes about a charm she had been experimenting with the night before.
Pip sat proudly beside her plate.
He had been unusually well-behaved that morning.
Which, for a Niffler, was suspicious.
Draco leaned toward him, “You’re still famous,” he muttered.
Pip puffed his chest proudly.
Several students nearby were whispering about him.
“That’s the Niffler who found McGonagall’s brooch.”
“Decades old, they said.”
“Imagine losing something that long.”
Mira smiled faintly.
Before she could reply—
A voice echoed across the hall.
“Miss Silverthorne.”
Heads turned.
Standing near the faculty table was Minerva McGonagall.
Her expression was composed as always, but the silver brooch—the thistle entwined with a lion—now rested proudly on her robes.
“Would you come with me after breakfast?”
The entire Slytherin table stared.
Draco whispered, “Are we in trouble?”
Mira shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
Pip chirped curiously.
Later that morning, Mira climbed the spiral staircase leading to Professor McGonagall’s office.
Pip rode on her shoulder.
Draco followed out of curiosity.
When Mira knocked on the door, McGonagall’s voice answered calmly.
“Come in.”
The office smelled faintly of parchment and lavender tea.
Tall shelves of books lined the walls.
Several elegant silver instruments ticked quietly on a nearby desk—gifts from former students and colleagues.
McGonagall stood beside the window.
The silver brooch gleamed on her robes.
When she saw Pip, her stern expression softened slightly.
“Good morning, Miss Silverthorne.”
“And Mr… Pip.”
Pip waved his tiny paw, “Mrrp!”
Draco bowed dramatically, “Good morning, Professor.”
McGonagall raised one eyebrow but allowed it to pass. She walked slowly toward them.
“For many years,” she said thoughtfully, “I believed my brooch was lost forever.” She touched the silver thistle gently, “It was one of the last gifts my mother gave me before I left home.”
Her voice carried quiet meaning.
Draco glanced at Mira.
Even he understood how important that must be.
McGonagall looked down at Pip, “And you found it.”
Pip chirped proudly.
“Yes,” McGonagall continued, “I believe that deserves recognition.”
Draco whispered excitedly, “We’re getting a reward.”
McGonagall opened a small wooden box on her desk.
Inside rested a single silver coin.
It looked simple at first glance.
But as she lifted it into the light, faint runes shimmered along its edge.
“This coin,” she explained, “is enchanted.”
Mira leaned closer.
“It belonged to a clever student many years ago who enjoyed collecting shiny objects.”
Draco smirked, “That sounds familiar.”
McGonagall continued, “The enchantment causes it to occasionally duplicate small metallic objects placed near it.”
Pip’s eyes widened.
Draco whispered, “Oh no.”
McGonagall held the coin carefully between two fingers, “I believe Pip will appreciate it.”
She placed the coin gently in Pip’s paws.
For a moment Pip simply stared.
Then—
He squealed with pure joy, “Mrrrrrp!”
He hugged the coin tightly.
His little snout quivered with excitement.
Draco leaned toward Mira, “You’ve just given a Niffler an object that multiplies shiny things.”
Mira slowly realized the implications, “Oh.”
McGonagall blinked, “Oh?”
Pip immediately placed the coin beside a small silver button he had in his pouch.
The coin glowed faintly.
A soft ping echoed through the room.
Two buttons now sat on the desk.
Pip gasped with delight, “Mrrrp!”
He placed both beside the coin.
Another glow.
Four buttons.
Draco covered his face, “This is going to be a disaster.”
Within seconds Pip had emptied his entire stash onto the desk.
Buttons.
Coins.
Tiny metal clasps.
A miniature silver spoon.
Every object multiplied.
The pile grew rapidly.
Clink.
Ping.
Clatter.
Soon the desk overflowed with glittering metal.
McGonagall stared.
Her normally flawless composure cracked slightly, “Miss Silverthorne…”
Mira scrambled forward, “Pip! Stop!”
Pip ignored her completely.
He was too busy celebrating.
The objects continued multiplying.
Silver spilled across the desk.
Then onto the floor.
Then into a growing glittering pile.
Draco stepped back as a cascade of coins slid toward his shoes, “This is worse than the Weasley twins.”
Pip squealed with absolute happiness.
McGonagall finally waved her wand, “Finite!”
The coin stopped glowing.
The duplication enchantment halted.
Silence returned to the office.
Except now the floor looked like a miniature treasure vault.
Draco slowly looked around, “Professor.”
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall asked.
“You’ve accidentally created the happiest Niffler in Britain.”
Pip sat proudly atop the mountain of treasure.
McGonagall sighed.
Then—to everyone’s surprise—
She chuckled softly, “Well.” She folded her arms, “I suppose he earned it.”
Mira began helping gather the coins, “I’m so sorry, Professor.”
McGonagall shook her head, “No harm done.”
She watched Pip with faint amusement.
“You know,” she added thoughtfully, “Hogwarts has many hidden corners where lost objects gather over the centuries.”
Draco blinked, “You’re not suggesting—”
McGonagall looked at Pip, “If he continues his explorations…” Her eyes twinkled slightly, “…he may find many things that deserve returning.”
Mira smiled.
Pip saluted proudly.
By lunchtime, the story had spread through Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
“Pip caused a treasure explosion in McGonagall’s office!”
“Apparently there were hundreds of coins!”
Even Severus Snape heard about it.
He sighed deeply, “Miss Silverthorne’s creatures continue to create logistical complications.”
Meanwhile Albus Dumbledore laughed warmly, “A most productive complication.”
That evening in the Slytherin common room, Pip sat proudly beside his new coin.
A small mountain of treasure surrounded him.
Draco leaned back in his chair, “You’ve officially spoiled him.”
Mira laughed, “He deserves it.”
Pip chirped happily.
Across the castle, McGonagall adjusted the silver thistle brooch on her robes once more.
After decades—
It had come home.
And strangely enough…
She suspected that curious little Niffler would bring many more forgotten treasures back to light.
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