Chapter 36
Chapter 36
“Potter!”
Snape suddenly leaned close, his expressionless face naturally showing no expression at all.
“Do you not have hands?”
“And take out whatever is beneath your desk!”
Under Snape’s stare, Harry had no choice but to produce the Warming Flask he had only just bought from the Weasley twins.
Fred and George considered a single design too monotonous. They developed bottles of every size, including a flat version that could be worn against the inside of one’s robes.
Harry’s was round and fitted perfectly in one hand.
“A pointless trinket.” Snape glanced at the dancing blue flame. “Nothing unrelated to Potions is permitted in my classroom!”
Soft rustling immediately filled the basement classroom.
Snape swept his gaze across the room and gave a quiet snort.
“Five points from Gryffindor!”
…
“Professor Snape is completely unreasonable,” Ron chattered indignantly on Harry’s behalf. “Why did he single you out? Everyone else had one too.”
“And what’s so wonderful about them? They’re ridiculously expensive. It’s only a spell. I could do that!”
Realising he did not know the spell, Ron continued sourly, “If you’re cold, just wear another set of robes.”
Sitting beside Hermione, Suer’s ears twitched.
He knew exactly why Ron was saying this. Several days after the product appeared, Ron learned that his brothers were selling the Warming Flasks and happily went to demand one for free.
Fred and George played several tricks on him, then refused in the sternest possible terms.
The boy’s pride suffered a devastating injury. When Harry offered to buy him one, Ron refused. He declared that unless Fred and George respectfully presented a Warming Flask with both hands, he wanted nothing to do with the things.
There were many ways to keep warm in the wizarding world. Madam Malkin, for example, offered custom winter robes with built-in heating–essentially an electric blanket turned into clothing.
“I have no need of such inferior rubbish,” Malfoy announced at his table. “My father commissioned this robe from Madam Malkin. I wouldn’t be cold even if the entire castle froze solid!”
The hundred-Galleon price of such tailoring was beyond most families, however.
Malfoy only mentioned it to show off.
That afternoon, Suer received a note asking him to meet before dinner at the third portrait along the left-hand corridor on the second floor.
It was signed Fred Weasley.
Suer realised that the time had come to divide the spoils.
No. To divide the profits.
With an hour remaining before dinner, he collected Hermione after their lesson and took her to the left-hand corridor on the second floor. Suer stood on tiptoe and twisted the upper-left corner of the third portrait.
A door appeared without a sound.
When Suer and Hermione entered, Fred and George were already inside. The tiny hidden room had once been filled with glass bottles. Now those had been replaced by a great mound of silver Sickles, a small quantity of bronze Knuts, and a handful of gold Galleons.
The twins were beaming. Never before had they possessed so much money.
“You’re here.”
George, who had been counting coins with his head down, looked up and waved. The corners of his mouth were raised high.
“We’ve just finished counting it. Unfortunately, sales have fallen sharply over the last few days.”
Suer had expected the decline. Hogwarts Castle did not lack geniuses, and the learned professors could recognise the spell at a glance. That they had managed to sell Warming Flasks for half a month already exceeded his expectations.
“The older Hufflepuffs have learned to make their own,” Fred said with a regretful sigh.
“How many did we sell?” Suer asked.
He had paid no attention to the accounts. Fred and George had recorded every transaction.
“Allow me.” George drew a sheet of parchment from his robes, covered with dense, untidy writing. “As of today, we have sold three hundred and twenty-six Warming Flasks. Total revenue: four thousand, two hundred and thirty-eight Sickles and twenty-two Knuts.”
“Costs: three Sickles.”
“Er… How many Galleons is that?” Wizarding currency was painfully inconvenient, and Suer had no desire to calculate it. He asked directly.
George and Fred exchanged a glance, unable to hide their delight.
“Four thousand, two hundred and thirty-eight Sickles is two hundred and forty-nine Galleons!”
“We’re rich.”
“Then, as agreed, we will split the cost of the bottles.” Suer performed a quick calculation and waved magnanimously. “You two take one hundred Galleons.”
“Thank you for your generosity,” Fred said with a grin.
Their share should have been only ninety-nine Galleons. The extra one could buy a great many things.
“I do have one request. Can you exchange all these Sickles for gold Galleons?” Suer asked.
“Of course.”
“Leave it to us!”
Hermione skipped all the way back, full of excitement.
“I already know which books I’m going to buy,” she said.
…
Professor Filius Flitwick completely deciphered Bluebell Flames in class and taught it to the students as extracurricular material.
Once they learned the spell, the young witches and wizards quickly lost interest. They still carried Warming Flasks, however.
For the first time, Suer discovered that even this spell possessed some offensive potential.
A Gryffindor named Seamus Finnigan somehow turned it into an explosion spell. The effect…
Well, it was extremely loud.
If psychological harm counted as damage, perhaps it was dangerous after all.
The spell also acquired a new use. Professor Snape modified it so the temperature could be adjusted through the amount of magical power supplied. It was ideal for Potions that demanded precise heat.
In short, after occupying Hogwarts’ top trending topic for half a month, the Warming Flask was finally displaced by the imminent first Quidditch match.
On the morning of the match, Hermione drew Suer aside and quietly told him something.
Harry had seen an injury on Snape’s leg in the staff room the previous day.
“They think Professor Snape tried to get past the three-headed dog in the forbidden corridor,” Hermione said. “But I don’t believe a professor would try to steal whatever it is guarding.”
“They also think Professor Snape let the troll inside, because they saw him heading toward the forbidden fourth-floor corridor on Halloween.”
“Professor Snape would never touch something Headmaster Dumbledore was protecting so carefully.”
“I don’t think Professor Snape is a villain either,” Suer said, knowingly pretending ignorance. “He may be harsh and biased, but overall, he is a good man.”
“A good man? That’s because you haven’t seen the way he treats Harry.” Ron overheard Suer’s last sentence and turned to argue.
Suer did not respond. He merely smiled with mysterious significance.
Everyone present was talking cheerfully except Harry, who looked extremely nervous. The dark circles beneath his eyes showed that he had barely slept.
Today would be his first match since training began: Gryffindor against Slytherin.
Many people tried to reassure him.
“You need to keep your strength up,” Suer said. “Eat a few hot dogs. The sausages are excellent today.”
“You really should eat,” Seamus added. “Seekers are always the focus of the opposing team. That means they work the hardest.”
“Thank you, Suer. Seamus.” Harry managed a strained smile.