A letter from home?
Could it be...
Sean held the letter from home, suddenly realizing something. His previously calm thoughts suddenly became excited and chaotic. At this moment, Sean's eyes seemed to be suddenly covered with a layer of white mist, and like flickering slides, several scenes appeared.
Sean's father, Yard, looked worried as he sent Martha into the delivery room.
Martha looked exhausted but very happy as she held a wrinkled little baby.
Grandfather Gavin stood outside the hospital room, watching the baby in Martha's arms from afar. He had a smile at the corner of his mouth but didn't immediately step forward.
Just then, as the white mist in Sean's eyes receded, Gavin in the scene suddenly turned his head and looked toward what should have been empty space. His mouth moved slightly. Sean heard no sound, but he understood what Gavin meant.
"After the holidays, we need to have a good talk, Sean."
The scene before his eyes disappeared, and Sean gasped as if waking from a dream.
He didn't understand what had just happened to him.
Clairvoyance?
Precognition?
Or something else?
And Gavin in that scene had clearly noticed him—what was that about?
"Sean, what's wrong with you?"
Turning to look at Blaise, Sean found Blaise looking at him strangely.
Sean hesitated for a moment and asked, "Blaise, was there anything strange about me just now?"
"You were staring at the letter in a daze for a while, but you recovered quickly. Did something happen?"
Shaking his head, Sean said, "Nothing, I was just surprised by this letter."
Opening the envelope, Sean looked at the contents inside.
Sure enough, the letter was written by Yard. Sean's mother, Martha, had given birth to their second child a week before the due date—Sean's first sibling in this world.
"Caesar, Caesar Bulstrode, my brother."
"Your brother?" Blaise immediately leaned over, looked at the letter in Sean's hand, and then immediately congratulated him: "Sean, you have a brother! We have a brother! Our brother is called Caesar? That's a very nice name."
Glancing at Blaise, Sean complained, "What do you mean 'our brother'? That's my brother. What does it have to do with you?"
"Isn't your brother also my brother? It's a pity that by the time our brother gets to Hogwarts, we'll have already graduated. Otherwise, if we were all at school at the same time, we could really look after our brother."
"Perhaps Caesar has no magical talent? Perhaps he's a Squib?"
Sean's words immediately made Blaise quiet down. He looked at Sean and said slowly, "That's impossible. Your talent is so strong, and Caesar is from the Bulstrode family. How could he have no magical talent?"
"Anything is possible, isn't it?"
Looking at Sean, Blaise suddenly smiled and said, "Even if he has no magical talent, he's still my brother. Even if he has magical talent, we won't be at Hogwarts anymore. If he has no magical talent, he'll just go to Muggle school. There's no difference, is there?"
Soon, the news that Sean had a brother spread within a small circle.
Everyone familiar with Sean came forward to congratulate him. Even when Sean found Snape and placed the latest sample issue of The Golden Cauldron in front of him, Snape asked about this matter.
"Sean, you have a brother?"
"Yes, Professor."
"Mm, give me the sample issue of The Golden Cauldron."
I didn't even hear a congratulations...
Never mind. For the Head of House to specifically ask about it was already quite considerate of my feelings.
I should be content.
Sean placed the magazine on Snape's desk.
Taking the magazine, Snape saw that Sean's thesis appeared on the front page headline. He raised an eyebrow slightly and said, "It actually appeared on the front page headline. It seems this issue of The Golden Cauldron isn't of much quality either."
Hearing this, Sean's mouth twitched, but he didn't dare say anything.
If anyone else had said this, Sean would definitely have spat in their face. But the person saying this was his Slytherin Snake King...
Sean wasn't being cowardly—he was simply respecting his Head of House. Whatever the Head of House said was right.
Of course, standing beside Snape, Sean didn't see the very faint trace of pride in Snape's brow.
"Alright, if you have nothing else, you can go. Leave the sample issue with me."
Blinking, what else could Sean say? What could he do besides agree?
Just as he was about to turn and leave, Sean heard his Head of House speak again: "Sean, when you go back, find your grandfather and tell him about this thesis.
The new mental recovery potion formula represents huge profits. Although the potion patent is currently with you and anyone wanting to do business must go through you, when interests become large enough, there will inevitably be some people willing to take risks and some gray methods. You need a strong backer to ensure most of your interests. Do you understand?"
Only Sean could make Snape say such things.
Sean naturally understood this point, so he immediately said to Snape, "Thank you, Professor. I'll contact my grandfather when I get back."
"Mm, go on. Don't disturb me while I'm reading the thesis."
His grateful emotions toward Snape were interrupted, and Sean helplessly turned and left.
Saturday, End-of-Term Feast
Sean sat with Blaise, Andy, and Jansen.
Looking at Andy, Sean said directly, "Andy, as you know, my modified mental recovery potion thesis has been published in The Golden Cauldron. The patent for this is with me. I'll work with my grandfather and the Bulstrode family, but I don't want to be too involved in the business side, so I'd like you to participate on my behalf. Are you willing?"
"Of course I'm willing. I'd be crazy to refuse." Andy reached out to stop food that almost sprayed from his mouth, then swallowed what was in his mouth before continuing, "Leave this to me. I'll definitely help you operate for maximum profit."
"I don't know how the profits will be distributed with the Bulstrode family, but I can promise that of the profits allocated to me, I'll give you thirty percent as compensation for your hard work. Is that acceptable?"
"Thirty percent is so much? Sean, think again. This is a bit much. You know your new formula will definitely earn a lot of Galleons. Thirty percent is really too much."
"Thirty percent belongs to you, but how to operate it, hiring people, finding shop locations and such—all of that is your responsibility. Adding these things, thirty percent is definitely not too much. If I didn't need a large sum of money in the future to prepare a good enough laboratory, I could give you a larger share. So let's stick with thirty percent."