Chapter 90: You’re Much More Generous Than A Certain Headmaster
Professor of Muggle Studies Office.
Melvin sat behind the desk, unscrewed a new bottle of ink, took out an infrequently used quill, dipped it in some ink—the signature product from the Quill Writer’s shop, the ink carrying the scent of forest after rain.
He casually wrote down a few names on paper, his thoughts gradually clarifying.
“The Daily Prophet, Barnabas Guffey, Rita Skeeter…”
He thought about the conversation in the tavern during the day, thinking about that shrewd editor like an old fox.
Hundreds of years ago, a wizard once tried to teach a troll to dance ballet, and from then on, Barnabas became silly Barnabas, with many using it to proclaim that Muggles and trolls were both incommunicable inferior creatures; this story was made into a tapestry left at Hogwarts, still mocked by many students to this day.
Barnabas inherited his ancestors’ name, and likewise inherited their open-minded ideology.
This time the result was no laughingstock; he actively engaged with Muggles, studied the brilliant culture created by Muggles, drew beneficial nutrients from it, and created 《The Daily Prophet》, this unique wizard newspaper.
Eye-catching, neutral stance, small profits quick turnover…
When Projection Mirrors had just begun to spread, The Daily Prophet took a wait-and-see attitude, reporting it as ordinary news. Umbridge initiated a lawsuit, Headmaster Dumbledore and Madam Marchbanks used the Wizengamot to forcibly reject it, and they continued to observe.
Until the film successfully premiered, with some content even touching Fudge’s bottom line, yet the Projection Mirror still operated steadily, earning excess profits from it.
Barnabas Guffey finally became convinced that this mirror would change the entire wizarding world, so he directly approached Melvin, wanting to ride this bandwagon with news programs to expand The Daily Prophet’s influence.
Cautious, shrewd, ambitious, daring to take risks…
To be honest, this was an old fox with the traits of a successful person.
《The Daily Prophet》 firmly held the top spot in British wizard newspapers, harvesting substantial profits every year just from the Ministry of Magic and pure-blood families, not to mention other advertising income; Barnabas Guffey was worth a fortune.
During the wizarding war, the newspaper helped pass messages, published obituaries to mourn the deceased, and at the moment of Voldemort’s downfall, distributed the news across all of Britain; after the war, it helped restore order and maintain stability without fully becoming the Ministry’s puppet—this editor had accumulated some reputation and was highly respected.
In a sense, he was actually very similar to Dumbledore.
The Magic Mirror Club did need other wizards to produce programs and participate in Projection Mirror development, but he couldn’t be allowed to take the dominant position; the daytime tug-of-war intimidation was for smoother future cooperation, and the timing now was indeed not ripe.
“How to get the Ministry side to cooperate?”
“I wonder if this cooperation matter can directly trigger a Wizengamot vote.”
“Or simply make Fudge step down, frame him with scandals or something…”
Melvin shook his head and stopped himself in time, feeling that he’d been at Hogwarts too long and picked up Slytherin’s bad habits.
At this moment, the office doorway was suddenly knocked on.
“Knock knock…”
“Please come in.”
The lock turned, the wooden door pushed open, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione—the three little ones—entered the office, their eyes wide with curiosity as they looked around the room; last time they had followed behind Malfoy without daring to disturb, so this was their first time coming.
There were many empty bookshelves, a spotless desk surface, a Projection Mirror on the shelf much smaller than the one used in the Great Hall performance… The entire room gave a very special impression—neat and clean, arranged with great care, with an indescribable feeling.
Harry and Ron were both a bit reserved.
Hermione, feeling relatively familiar with the professor, spoke up proactively: “Professor Levent, Percy said you were looking for us; is there something?”
Melvin smiled: “The film box office statistics are out; looking for you lead actors, of course, to discuss film fees and profit sharing.”
“?”
The three tilted their heads, expressions puzzled.
Normally, for shooting and producing programs, film fees and profit sharing are negotiated in advance, but the wizarding world’s situation was special, and the Projection Mirror’s situation was special too; at the time, this professor Melvin, lacking teacher ethics, had used the baby dragon Norbert matter to trick and coerce them, and the three young students, naive and confused, had signed the contract without understanding.
Coercing others to work first, then casually giving some reward afterward as a token—it sounded a bit like an illegal organization.
Harry and the others had thought handling Norbert’s trouble was the reward, not expecting further gains—and very substantial ones at that.
“Let me clarify first: the film isn’t an adventure, so it won’t be divided by your contributions; Dumbledore’s house points rewards to your three houses were roughly equal, but the film is calculated by screen time, so your three rewards are different.”
Melvin considered himself different from those black-hearted dark wizards; considering he was hiring child labor, the film fees weren’t casually brushed off—this salary was already very generous.
“Harry’s film fee is two thousand Galleons; Hermione and Ron, you two are one thousand Galleons each.”
“…”
Across a square low table, the three sat on a long sofa opposite; hearing this number, their minds blanked, eyes wide, stunned in place.
Melvin poured them iced pumpkin juice himself: “I won’t hide it from you; over the Easter holiday, the film earned me a full one hundred thousand Galleons, and as leads you only get four thousand from it—do you feel it’s unfair?”
Ron was still dazed.
Hermione was thinking how many pounds one thousand Galleons could exchange for.
Harry reacted first, shaking his head: “Of course not, Professor.”
“Protecting the Philosopher’s Stone was our own initiative; all in all, we probably broke two hundred school rules, weren’t expelled from school, and even got house points rewards—we’re already very satisfied.”
Harry paused: “Professor, you turned our rash actions during this time into a thrilling adventure, spreading our names across all of Britain—that’s already an unexpected gain.”
Hermione nodded too: “The related work was actually all driven by you, Professor—the Projection Mirror production and promotion, memory footage extraction, delivering recordings to wizard taverns across the country… Strictly speaking, we were just selected.”
Ron, following their words, suddenly got it and nodded eagerly: “Yes, yes, one thousand Galleons is great too.”
The Weasley family vault had never had so many Galleons; he was already thinking about how to accept his father and mother’s praise when he got home. That evening, he’d prepare some taunts for George and Fred, casually drop them then, and mock them hard!
See who still calls him the most useless kid in the family!
“…”
The three’s responses were completely beyond their age; Melvin was a bit thrown off.
Especially Harry, who didn’t care about the Galleon amount at all, quickly sorted out his thoughts, saw the essence, and said that the adventure was their spontaneous protection of the Philosopher’s Stone, not for filming the film—the current gains were all pleasant surprises.
Was it that there were too many Galleons in the Potter family vault, so he treated money like dirt?
Or influenced subliminally by Voldemort’s remnant soul, instinctively handling such matters?
Thinking carefully, Harry had entered school last September; though he skimped on after-class homework, was always late to lessons, and liked chatting and whispering in class, he left a good impression on other professors… except Snape.
“Maybe he was just born with high emotional intelligence…”
Melvin muttered to himself inwardly, waved his hand to let the teapot full of pumpkin juice float aside, divided some snacks to them, didn’t dwell on the film fee amounts, and asked about the impacts they’d felt recently.
Real events that actually happened in reality, after editing and splicing shown by the Projection Mirror, stripped away the trivial chores, with music and visuals amplifying their wit and bravery, the footage exuding extremely powerful personal charisma.
The castle was full of underage students; after this stimulation, the three in their eyes were all glowing with holy light.
Wherever they went, people followed behind; during meals, there were always people coming up to talk, expressing admiration and praise, even passing on admiration and praise from parents.
Even Slytherin students’ gazes toward them had softened a lot.
“Yesterday I was in the third-floor bathroom taking a leak, and Hufflepuff’s Justin was waiting outside the compartment to greet me—I didn’t know how to respond.” Harry looked helpless.
Melvin chuckled in amusement: “This situation will last a while; once you’re publicly scolded by Professor Snape in Potions class, criticized by Professor McGonagall in Transfiguration Class for skimpy homework, they’ll probably realize that the legendary Harry Potter is just a first-year student, not that magical.”
“Just like at the start of term.” Harry said thoughtfully.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief too.
She had originally been an unpopular bookworm; this time she became a popular topic girl, with gazes always focused on her, like Devil’s Snare vines swaying behind her—very uncomfortable.
“Actually, I think being famous tastes pretty good.” Only Ron held a different opinion, his little friends all throwing him looks of disdain.
“I agree with Ron; a famous witch once said, fame comes early…”
Melvin wasn’t in a hurry, chatting leisurely with them; he was actually more concerned about changes in magic power.
He’d originally thought only he, having received the Horned Serpent’s gift, could influence others to gather magic power, but Nicolas Flamel’s account made him understand this wasn’t unique—many wizards showed such traits.
So he wanted to see if the three little wizards had any changes.
In the original story, Harry’s growth speed was indeed unnaturally fast for a normal wizard: third year contending with professors, fifth year facing Voldemort directly, seventh year directly defeating the most powerful dark wizard in history.
Melvin suspected influence in this area, though no signs had emerged yet.
Iced pumpkin juice was drunk glass after glass, that seemingly small teapot never running out, and the various snacks were quite tasty; as lights-out time approached, Ron was getting restless.
“Professor, um…” Ron stared down at his shoe tips, voice muffled, hesitantly asked: “I want to ask, when will we get that film fee?”
“For such an amount of Galleons, I surely can’t hand it directly to you to stuff in your suitcases and drag home; I plan to transfer it to Professor McGonagall, who will pass it to your parents.”
Melvin answered casually; he saw Ron’s tense shoulders relax opposite him, as if this casual attitude actually put people more at ease.
Compared to the wealthy Harry from his ancestors and the well-off Hermione’s family, Ron was indeed strapped in this regard—his wand was even one used up by other family members.
Harry scratched his head: “Who to give my share to for safekeeping, Hagrid?”
“…”
Everyone present fell a bit silent.
Melvin sipped some iced pumpkin juice, calming himself.
Student issues were truly Merlin-level complicated; no wonder Professor McGonagall was always stern-faced.
“I’ll discuss with Dumbledore and Hagrid, find a time to take you to Gringotts, and deposit it in your family vault.”
“Oh.”
“Professor, I have a question.”
Even the always reliable Hermione raised her hand, saying softly: “I don’t want Galleons; can I exchange for other rewards?”
“…”
Melvin looked at the little witch’s bright eyes: “What reward, tell me.”
“I want the professor to be my tutor.”
“?”
Seeing hope, Hermione quickly explained obediently: “Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick’s classes have to accommodate the whole class, teaching content basically from textbooks, and even extensions are limited; some directions I’m interested in are extracurricular, and though I can ask after class, asking one by one is too troublesome, so I want to ask the professor to be my tutor.”
Per Gringotts exchange rates, one Galleon was about five pounds, so one thousand Galleons was five thousand pounds—seemingly huge, but really nothing for a private dental clinic.
This family-raised girl knew what truly held value.
“…”
Melvin pondered briefly, seemingly considering the plan’s feasibility.
Harry’s eyes lit up, remembering that water orb spell he’d seen often lately, the vortex that devoured the Howler—looking so cool and handsome.
Hermione had also explained casting tips to them and practiced with leaves; Harry could now help handle some Howlers too, but his casting wasn’t as swift and powerful as Hermione’s, always feeling like something was missing.
If he could get pointers from Professor Levent…
The Potter family gold coins filled half a vault; Harry didn’t lack spending money, so he immediately spoke: “I want to exchange for professor tutoring too!”
Ron’s face flushed red; he wanted to keep up with his little friends, but couldn’t open his mouth.
That was one thousand Galleons—even a thousand Sickles couldn’t be scraped together in the Weasley vault; with that money, he could get a new wand, Mum could get a new stew pot and spatula, next year’s Ginny could buy brand-new textbooks instead of using embarrassing old ones like him…
In short, Harry and Hermione could give up that money, but he really couldn’t let go.
Ron buried his head again, trying hard not to let the others notice.
“What reason do I have to refuse? Your rewards are even more generous than the headmaster’s salary…”
Melvin wanted to observe their magic power growth anyway, so he nodded in agreement.
As for Ron beside them…
Melvin discreetly withdrew his gaze, glanced at the wall clock, and smiled lightly: “Time’s about up; let’s end here for today. Come find me anytime with questions.”
“Goodbye, Professor.”
“Good night, Professor.”
“…”
