August 13th, 1992, Diagon Alley, London, 11:54 AM
Outside Flourish and Blotts, the chaos was finally settling. The crowd had dispersed, eager to spread gossip about the fight between Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy—a scandal that would fuel conversations in the Leaky Cauldron for weeks to come.
Molly Weasley had commandeered a bench near the bookshop's entrance, forcing Arthur to sit whilst she examined his injuries with sharp, efficient movements. Her wand traced diagnostic charms over his bruised jaw and split knuckles, her mouth pressed into a thin line of disapproval.
"Honestly, Arthur," she scolded, her voice carrying that particular tone that mothers everywhere perfected—harsh words wrapped around deep concern. "Brawling in a bookshop like some common ruffian. What were you thinking? You could have been arrested! What kind of example does this set for the children?"
Arthur winced as she applied a particularly vigorous healing charm to his jaw. "He insulted our family, Molly. Called us—"
"I don't care what he called us," Molly interrupted, though her hands were gentle despite her sharp tone. "We know what we are. We don't need validation from the likes of Lucius Malfoy."
"But—"
"However," Molly continued, and something in her voice made Arthur look up in surprise. Her expression had softened, and unless Harry was very much mistaken, there was pride gleaming in her eyes. "I'm glad you gave him a proper wallop. That pompous git has had it coming for years. I just wish you'd landed a few more punches before Hagrid separated you."
Arthur blinked, then slowly began to grin despite his split lip. "Molly Weasley, are you encouraging my violent tendencies?"
"I'm doing no such thing," Molly said primly, though her own mouth was twitching. "I'm merely observing that if one must engage in fisticuffs with insufferable aristocrats, one should make it count."
Ron stifled a laugh, Fred and George exchanged delighted grins. Even Percy looked faintly amused, though he maintained his dignified composure.
It was then that a new voice cut through the moment, polite and slightly hesitant.
"Mr and Mrs Weasley? I hope I'm not interrupting."
Everyone turned to see Draco Malfoy approaching, and the temperature seemed to drop several degrees. He was impeccably dressed as always—expensive robes in subdued grey, his platinum blonde hair perfectly styled—but his expression lacked the usual Malfoy arrogance.
Instead, he looked genuinely uncomfortable, perhaps even embarrassed.
Ron's eyes rolled instinctively, Fred and George stepped forward protectively. However, Draco raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his grey eyes steady.
Draco said quickly. " I wanted to apologise on behalf of my father. His behaviour just now was... inexcusable."
The silence that followed was profound. Molly's wand had frozen mid-motion, still hovering over Arthur's injuries. Arthur himself looked stunned. Even Hagrid, who'd been helping to gather scattered books, stopped to stare.
"You're apologising for your father?" Arthur said slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.
"Yes, sir," Draco replied, meeting Arthur's gaze directly. "Father's prejudices are his own. They don't reflect on everyone in our family, and they certainly don't reflect my own views..." There was obvious bitterness within is voice.
Draco heaved a long sigh before affirming. "What he said about your family was cruel and unfounded. You have every reason to be proud of your children...I've seen that firsthand at Hogwarts."
He glanced at Ron, who was watching him with wary confusion. "Ron's a brilliant chess player and a loyal friend. The twins are innovative thinkers—their prank work is honestly impressive from a magical theory standpoint. And Percy..." Draco nodded respectfully toward the eldest present Weasley brother. "Percy's dedication to his studies and his position as Prefect is admirable."
Fred and George's mouths had fallen open in synchronised shock. Ron looked as though someone had just told him Quidditch was being cancelled permanently. Percy's ears had gone pink, though he stood a little straighter.
While Ethan watched all of these with amusement. 'Well, definitely Sam's style back in the days'
Draco turned back to Arthur and Molly. "I know an apology from me can't undo what my father said or did. But I wanted you to know that not all Malfoys share his views. My Uncle Sam—Samantheus Faramundo—has taught me that nobility lies in character, not blood status. And your family demonstrates more genuine nobility than most pure-blood families could ever hope to achieve."
Molly's expression had undergone a remarkable transformation. The stern disapproval had melted into something approaching warmth, and when she looked at Draco, it was with the same maternal assessment she applied to all young people who crossed her path.
"Well," she said, her voice considerably gentler. "That's... very mature of you, Mr Malfoy. It takes courage to publicly disagree with one's parents."
"Indeed it does," Arthur agreed, extending his uninjured hand. "Thank you, Draco. Your apology is accepted, and your words are appreciated."
Draco shook his hand with evident relief, and Harry noticed the way his shoulders relaxed fractionally.
Uncle Sam had clearly done wonders for Draco.
"Oh, right..." Harry said, seizing the moment before it could become awkward. "S-since we're all here, and it's still early... would anyone like to visit Atid Stella? T-the headquarters here in Diagon Alley is quite impressive, and I'm s-sure they'd give us a tour."
"Atid Stella?" Hermione's eyes went wide. "The innovation company? They developed the Runic Lamps and those temperature regulation devices! Oh, Harry, could we really?"
"Don't see why not," Harry replied, glancing at his father. "Dad?"
Ethan, who'd been observing the entire Draco situation with quiet approval, nodded. "I believe that could be arranged. We do have standing clearance, and Verrona would be delighted to show potential future customers around."
"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. "I've heard my dad going on about their work for weeks now. Would be good to see what all the fuss is about."
"We're coming too," Fred announced.
"Obviously," George added.
"Wouldn't miss it," they finished in unison.
To everyone's surprise, Percy cleared his throat. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to join as well. I've been reading about Atid Stella's employment practices in 'Modern Magical Management.' Their approach to workforce diversity is... quite progressive."
Ginny, who'd been quiet since the confrontation, looked up hopefully. "May I come as well? I'd love to see what a real magical company looks like."
Molly glanced at Arthur, who nodded. "I don't see why not. Though mind you all behave—this is Mr Esther's workplace, not a playground."
"Oh, we'll be perfect angels," Fred said with exaggerated innocence.
"Absolute paragons of virtue," George agreed.
"That's what worries me," Molly muttered with a wry smile.
August 13th, 1992, Atid Stella Headquarters, Diagon Alley, 12:24 PM
The Atid Stella building occupied a prime location on Diagon Alley, its facade a harmonious blend of traditional magical architecture and modern innovation. The stonework featured subtle runic inscriptions that pulsed with faint blue light, whilst the windows displayed constantly shifting exhibitions of their latest products.
As their group approached—an unusual assembly of Weasleys, a Malfoy, Hermione, Luna, Harry, and Ethan—the main doors swung open automatically, detecting their approach through proximity wards.
The entrance hall took everyone's breath away.
Where most magical businesses maintained dark, cluttered interiors stuffed with products and parchment, Atid Stella's lobby was bright, spacious, and impeccably organised. Enchanted skylights created the illusion of open air above, whilst floating displays showcased various products in action—a Runic Lamp adjusting its brightness based on ambient light, temperature regulation runes maintaining perfect climate in a miniature room, even a prototype self-cleaning cauldron that sparked with possibility.
But it wasn't just the displays that caught attention. It was the people.
The reception area was staffed by a variety of magical beings working in evident harmony. A goblin sat at one desk, reviewing contracts with the same shrewd intelligence goblins brought to Gringotts, but here wielded for product development rather than gold-guarding. At another desk, a witch with the telltale signs of lycanthropy—the faint scars, the amber tinge to her eyes—was consulting with what appeared to be a Squib about inventory management. A house-elf—wearing actual clothes, not a pillowcase—bustled past carrying a tray of tea, pausing to ask politely if they needed anything before continuing on.
Percy's mouth had fallen open. Ron and Draco were staring around with identical expressions of awe. Hermione looked as though Christmas had come early, whilst Ginny's eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement.
"Blimey," Fred breathed.
"Quite," George agreed.
A familiar figure emerged from a side office—Verrona Rogeiros, the manager of Atid Stella's main hall, looking as professionally elegant as ever in her white blouse and black skirt. Her freckled face broke into a warm smile as she spotted Ethan.
"Mr Esther! What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting you today." Her green eyes swept over the assembled children with interest. "And you've brought quite the delegation."
"Miss Rogeiros," Ethan greeted her with a slight smile. "Allow me to introduce some young people interested in seeing what Atid Stella has accomplished. This is Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, Mr Ronald Weasley, Mr Percy Weasley, Mr Fred and George Weasley, and Mr Draco Malfoy and Miss Luna Lovegood. You already know Harry."
"Delighted to meet you all," Verrona said warmly, shaking hands with each of them in turn. "Welcome to Atid Stella. We're always pleased to show interested parties around our facilities."
"If it's not too much trouble," Ethan began, but Verrona was already shaking her head.
"Not at all. Though—" she fixed Ethan with a pointed look, "—since you're here, there are some urgent matters that require your attention. Human resources has several contracts that need your signature, and there's been a situation with the suppliers for the new experimental wands that requires executive decision-making."
Ethan sighed quietly, the sound of a man recognising inevitable bureaucracy. "Of course there is. Very well—I'll handle the paperwork. Verrona, would you be willing to provide a comprehensive tour for our young guests?"
"It would be my pleasure," Verrona assured him. She turned to the group with an encouraging smile. "Shall we begin? I promise you'll see things you've never imagined possible."
As Ethan was led away, looking remarkably resigned for someone about to face a mountain of administrative documents, Verrona gathered the children with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to managing tours.
"Now then," she said cheerfully, "what would you like to see first? We have the Research and Development wing, the Manufacturing floor, the Innovation Laboratory, or if you're interested in the business side, I can show you our administrative offices and explain how we manage such a diverse workforce."
"Everything!" Hermione said immediately, then blushed at her own enthusiasm. "I mean, if that's not too much trouble."
"Everything it is," Verrona laughed. "Follow me."
The tour exceeded even Hermione's high expectations.
The Research and Development wing was a wonder of organised chaos. Wizards and witches worked at individual stations, each one focused on different aspects of runic innovation. One team was experimenting with modifications to the Runic Lamp design, attempting to create versions that could respond to specific emotional states rather than just ambient light levels. Another was developing what they called "adaptive wards"—protective enchantments that could learn and respond to new threats without requiring constant manual updates.
"The key to our success," Verrona explained as they walked through the gleaming laboratory, "is collaboration across traditional boundaries. We employ wizards, witches, Squibs, goblins, house-elves, and even individuals with lycanthropy. Each brings unique perspectives and talents."
Percy was scribbling notes furiously, his Prefect badge catching the light as he leaned over his parchment. "How do you manage potential conflicts? Traditional magical employment has always maintained strict species segregation."
"By treating everyone as equals," Verrona said simply. "We pay fair wages regardless of species. We provide the same benefits, the same opportunities for advancement. And most importantly, we judge people on their abilities and character, not their blood status or species designation."
She gestured to a goblin working alongside a witch on a complex runic array. "Malcolm here is our lead expert on metalwork enchantments. His knowledge of goblin-forged silver properties has been invaluable in developing more durable runic circuits. And beside him, Elena is a Squib with an intuitive understanding of how magic interacts with physical materials—her insights have solved problems that would have stumped purely magical researchers."
Hermione's hand shot up as if she were in class. "But I thought Squibs couldn't perform magic?"
"They can't cast spells," Verrona confirmed. "But Elena can sense magical resonance in ways that many wizards cannot. She's developed a technique for detecting flaws in runic inscriptions before they fail—something that previously required complex diagnostic charms. Now we simply have her examine the work."
Draco was watching the goblin and Squib work together with fascination. 'This is what Uncle Sam meant,' he thought. 'Nobility in character, not blood. These people are creating things that pure-blood supremacists would never dream of, simply because they refuse to collaborate with "lesser beings."'
Ron nudged Harry, whispering, "This is mental, mate. In the best possible way."
Harry grinned, though his attention kept drifting to Luna, who'd wandered over to examine a particularly complex runic diagram with her characteristic dreamy focus. She traced patterns in the air above it, humming softly, and Harry found himself moving to join her.
"What do you see?" he asked quietly.
"Possibilities," Luna replied, her grey eyes reflecting the faint blue glow of the runes. "All these different types of magic, working together. It's like a symphony, Harry. Each part is beautiful alone, but together they create something entirely new."
The Manufacturing floor was equally impressive, though in a different way. Here, the organised chaos resolved into precise, efficient production. Assembly lines—a concept borrowed from Muggle factories but enhanced with magic—produced Runic Lamps and temperature regulation devices with remarkable speed. But unlike Muggle factories, these assembly lines incorporated the unique talents of each worker.
"We don't believe in mindless repetition," Verrona explained. "Each station requires skill and judgment. The witch applying runic inscriptions must understand the theory behind them. The goblin overseeing quality control uses both magical and metallurgical expertise. Even our house-elves, who volunteered for these positions and are paid fairly, bring creative problem-solving to their work."
A house-elf named Mono was demonstrating a new packaging technique she'd developed that reduced material waste by thirty percent. He beamed with pride as he explained it to Verrona, and the manager praised his innovation with genuine enthusiasm.
Ginny watched this with wide eyes. "I didn't know house-elves could be... creative like that."
"Most people don't," Verrona said gently. "Because most people don't give them the opportunity. Here, we believe everyone has something valuable to contribute."
Fred and George were particularly interested in the Innovation Laboratory, where experimental products underwent testing before full development. They peppered Verrona with questions about the development process, prototype iteration, and market testing.
The twins exchanged excited glances, their minds clearly already racing with possibilities.
Percy, meanwhile, had drifted toward the administrative offices, where he was deep in conversation with the head of Human Resources—a stern-faced wizard named Abram who was explaining Atid Stella's revolutionary employment policies.
"We implemented a comprehensive anti-discrimination policy," Abram was saying, showing Percy thick binders of documentation. "Any employee, regardless of species or background, has the right to file grievances through a neutral mediation process. We've also established mentorship programmes, competitive salaries with transparent wage scales, and advancement opportunities based solely on merit."
Percy was practically vibrating with excitement. "This is extraordinary. The Ministry could learn so much from this model. If we implemented even half of these policies—"
"You'd face significant resistance from traditionalists," Abram said dryly. "We certainly did. But Mr Esther was adamant that Atid Stella would set a new standard. And now, three years later, our employee retention rate is ninety-seven percent, our productivity is forty percent higher than comparable companies, and we've had zero labour disputes."
"Because people who feel valued work harder," Percy said, understanding dawning in his eyes. "It's not complicated—it's basic respect and fair treatment."
"Precisely," Abram agreed.
Hermione had found her way to a small library that served as a reference collection for researchers. She was pulling books off shelves with reverent care, exclaiming over titles like "Advanced Runic Theory: Cross-Cultural Applications" and "The Ethics of Magical Innovation."
"They have a first edition of Gershom ben Shlomo's work on arithmantic prediction models!" she squeaked to Verrona. "I've been trying to find this for months!"
"Feel free to read any of them," Verrona said warmly. "We encourage learning. In fact, we offer internships to promising Hogwarts students during summer holidays. If you're interested—"
"Yes!" Hermione said immediately, then caught herself. "I mean, yes, please, I would be very interested in learning more about that programme."
Throughout the tour, Harry and Luna maintained their comfortable companionship, wandering together through the various departments, occasionally commenting on what they saw but mostly just enjoying each other's presence. Luna would point out interesting magical signatures that only she could perceive, and Harry would offer observations about how his father's innovations were being implemented.
At one point, they found themselves on a balcony overlooking the main production floor, watching the organised activity below.
"Teacher created something special here," Luna said softly. "It's not just a company. It's a vision of what the magical world could become."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, watching a goblin and a witch collaborate on a complex problem without any apparent concern for species differences. "It's like... like he's showing everyone that the old ways aren't the only ways. That things can be better."
"And he's doing it quietly," Luna observed. "No grand proclamations, no political campaigns. Just building something that works so well that people can't help but notice."
Down on the main floor, Fred and George were examining a prototype self-stirring cauldron with the focused intensity of true innovators.
Ron and Draco—in a development that would have been unthinkable a year ago—were discussing the implications of adaptive ward technology for Quidditch stadium security.
Ginny was listening to a house-elf explain the intricacies of temperature regulation runes though often times, Harry felt a particular gaze coming off of her but not to a point that startle the boy.
Percy was still deep in conversation with Millicent, taking notes that would probably form the basis of several reform proposals once he joined the Ministry.
And Hermione had her nose buried in yet another advanced text, occasionally looking up to ask Verrona brilliantly insightful questions.
"They're all seeing it," Harry murmured. "What's possible. What could be."
"The future," Luna agreed. She turned to look at Harry, her grey eyes unusually focused. "This is the future of magic, Harry. Not the old pure-blood hierarchies or the species discrimination. This. People working together, creating things that benefit everyone. Your father's not just running a company—he's starting a revolution."
"A quiet revolution," Harry said.
"The best kind," Luna replied. "The kind that changes everything without anyone quite realising it's happening until it's already done."
As the afternoon wore on and the tour finally concluded, Verrona led them back to the main entrance hall where Ethan was just emerging from the administrative offices, looking mildly exasperated but satisfied.
"Paperwork completed," he announced. "Crisis averted, contracts signed, supplier issues resolved. The thrilling life of a company executive."
"How did you find the tour?" Verrona asked the group.
The responses came in an enthusiastic chorus:
"Absolutely fascinating!" Hermione squeaked.
"Brilliant!" Ron and Draco replied simultaneously, then looking surprised at their agreement.
"Inspiring!" Percy couldn't help but exclaimed.
"Educational!" Ginny concluded.
"Revolutionary!" Fred and George said in perfect synchronisation.
"Lovely," Luna remarked with her serene smile.
Harry just grinned, too content to put it into words.
Ethan's expression softened slightly, something that might have been pride flickering in his dark amber eyes. "I'm glad you all found it worthwhile."
"Mr Esther," Percy said seriously, "would it be possible to arrange a more formal visit in the future? Perhaps with some of my colleagues at Hogwarts who are interested in progressive employment practices?"
"Of course," Ethan replied. "Contact Verrona to arrange it. We're always happy to share our methodologies with those genuinely interested in reform."
Fred and George approached next, looking unusually serious. "Sir," Fred began.
"We were wondering," George continued.
"If you might be willing," Fred said.
"To provide some guidance," George added.
"On starting our own venture," they finished together.
"Eventually, of course," Fred clarified.
"When we're ready," George agreed.
Ethan studied them both for a moment. "I think that could be arranged. You show genuine innovative thinking and, importantly, concern for ethical business practices. When the time comes, reach out. I'd be happy to discuss potential collaboration or mentorship."
The twins beamed.
As the group prepared to depart, making their goodbyes and thanking Verrona profusely, Harry found himself standing at the entrance, looking back at the building.
The afternoon sun cast everything in golden light—the runic inscriptions glowing softly, the windows displaying their ever-changing exhibitions, the constant movement of employees of all species working together in harmonious productivity. Through the transparent front wall, he could see goblins and wizards collaborating over designs, house-elves moving with purpose and pride rather than servitude, a werewolf explaining something to a Squib with professional courtesy.
This was what the wizarding world could be. Should be.
Around him, his friends were chattering excitedly about everything they'd seen. Ron was telling Hermione about the adaptive ward technology. Draco was discussing employment policy with Percy. The twins were already sketching product ideas on spare parchment. Ginny was explaining to Luna about the temperature regulation runes with enthusiasm that suggested a future career in magical engineering.
And all of them—pure-blood, half-blood, Muggle-born—were united in their excitement, their inspiration, their vision of what was possible.
The sun continued its descent toward the horizon, painting Diagon Alley in shades of amber and gold. Atid Stella stood as a beacon of what could be, not just a company, but a promise. A demonstration that the old ways weren't inevitable. That change was possible. That the future could be better than the past.
High above, an owl soared past, its shadow momentarily darkening the building before passing. The runic inscriptions pulsed with gentle blue light, steady and constant, like a heartbeat.
Like hope.
The wizarding world was changing. Slowly, perhaps. Quietly, certainly. But inevitably.
And this bright, innovative, inclusive space where talent mattered more than blood and collaboration trumped tradition.
This was the future descending into the present, one runic circuit, one fair contract, one opened mind at a time.
Harry smiled and turned to follow his friends, the image of Atid Stella burning bright in his memory.
The future had already begun.