The Next Day
The morning sunlight filtering through the diamond-paned windows of the Leaky Cauldron carried that particular quality of London light—softer and more diffused than the bright clarity of New York mornings, with an underlying sense of age and history that made even ordinary Tuesday mornings feel significant. The inn's common room bustled with the quiet efficiency of a magical establishment that had been serving travelers for centuries, the kind of place where floating tankards cleaned themselves and the fire never seemed to need tending.
Professor McGonagall and Aurora Sinclair sat at a large oak table that had clearly been selected for its ability to accommodate both official paperwork and the kind of organized chaos that came with managing the financial arrangements of five American students. McGonagall's emerald robes were immaculate despite the early hour, her silver hair pulled back with characteristic precision, and her sharp eyes missed nothing as she surveyed the assembled families with the kind of professional assessment that came from decades of managing young witches and wizards.
Aurora Sinclair radiated that particular combination of theatrical authority and genuine warmth that made complex bureaucratic processes feel like carefully choreographed performances. Her robes managed to look both traditionally magical and professionally contemporary, and she carried herself with the kind of confidence that suggested she could negotiate international magical treaties before breakfast and still have energy left over for managing teenage drama.
The table's surface was covered with neat stacks of documents, quills that moved with purposeful precision, and five leather pouches that seemed to glow faintly with the weight of their contents—each one substantial enough to make a solid *thunk* when set down, the kind of weight that suggested serious money rather than token allowances.
"Before we begin today's shopping expedition," Professor McGonagall announced with her characteristic crisp authority, her Scottish accent lending weight to each word as she adjusted her emerald robes with practiced efficiency, "there are some financial matters we need to address."
Harry Parker, seated between Ben and May with the kind of protective family positioning that had become second nature over the years, immediately perked up with the alert attention he gave to anything involving his friends' welfare. His dark hair was doing its usual morning rebellion against any attempt at organization, and his green eyes—so remarkably similar to his mother's—focused on the leather pouches with obvious interest.
"Financial matters like what?" he asked with characteristic directness, his voice carrying that particular combination of nine-year-old curiosity and protective concern. "Are Peter and MJ and everyone going to have enough money for everything they need? Because if they don't, we can—"
"Harry," Ben interrupted gently, his voice carrying that steady warmth that made everyone around him feel more secure, "let's hear what Professor McGonagall has to say before we start problem-solving, okay?"
"But what if there's a problem that needs solving?" Harry persisted with the logical intensity that characterized his approach to potential threats to his family's wellbeing. "What if the magical money system is complicated and they need help figuring it out?"
May Parker reached over to ruffle Harry's already chaotic hair with maternal affection, her dark eyes bright with the kind of loving exasperation that came from managing a brilliant, protective nine-year-old who worried about everyone except himself.
"Sweetheart, I love that you want to take care of everyone," she said warmly, "but maybe let's find out what the situation actually is before you start planning rescue operations?"
Peter Parker, sitting across from Harry with his brown hair sticking up at odd angles and his spider-sense practically vibrating with excitement about the day ahead, bounced slightly in his chair with barely contained energy.
"Harry's right though," he said with characteristic rapid-fire enthusiasm, his hands gesturing expressively as he spoke. "I mean, we should understand the financial system, right? Like, what if there are hidden costs we don't know about? Or complicated exchange rates? Or magical banking fees? What if—"
"Peter," May said with fond interruption, recognizing the signs of her nephew about to spiral into analytical overdrive, "breathe. Let's take this one step at a time."
"But Aunt May, understanding the economic framework is crucial for making informed spending decisions," Peter protested, his scientific mind clearly already running through multiple scenarios and potential complications. "If we don't understand the underlying monetary principles, how can we optimize our purchasing strategy?"
MJ Watson, who had been watching this exchange with artist's amusement, her red hair catching the morning light like fire and her green eyes sparkling with mischief, leaned forward with a grin that suggested she was about to say something that would make everyone laugh.
"Peter," she said with gentle mockery, her voice carrying that particular combination of affection and exasperation, "did you just use the phrase 'optimize our purchasing strategy' about buying school supplies?"
"It's a legitimate analytical approach!" Peter defended, his face flushing slightly with embarrassment but his enthusiasm undimmed. "Strategic resource allocation is important in any context!"
"Strategic resource allocation," Ned Leeds repeated with obvious delight, his warm brown eyes crinkling with amusement as he spoke with his characteristic Brooklyn accent. "Dude, we're eleven years old. Our biggest strategic decision yesterday was whether to have pancakes or waffles for breakfast."
"And you spent twenty minutes analyzing the nutritional differences," Gwen Stacy pointed out with investigative precision, her blonde hair pulled back in a practical ponytail and her expression showing the kind of systematic amusement that came from cataloging her friends' quirks. "You literally made a chart."
"It was a very informative chart!" Peter protested, his voice cracking slightly with indignation. "Comparative nutritional analysis is a valuable decision-making tool!"
Felicia Hardy, perched on the edge of her chair with the kind of casual confidence that suggested the universe generally arranged itself for her convenience, laughed with genuine delight—the kind of bright, musical sound that made everyone around her want to smile.
"You guys are adorable," she said with affectionate amusement, her silver-blonde hair falling in perfect waves despite the early hour. "Peter, you're going to analyze magical money until your brain explodes, aren't you?"
"Probably," Peter admitted with sheepish honesty, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I can't help it. New systems are just so... fascinating."
Phillip Watson, who had been listening to this exchange while rapidly taking notes in his ever-present notebook, looked up with the kind of animated enthusiasm that suggested he had found kindred spirits in the analytical approach to magical economics.
"Actually, strategic resource allocation is quite relevant here," he said, his voice carrying that distinctive rapid-fire cadence that made everything sound like a fascinating scientific discovery, his hands gesturing expressively as he spoke. "I mean, we're dealing with an entirely foreign monetary system, right? With unknown purchasing power and, uh, unfamiliar vendor relationships? The analytical approach is not only reasonable, it's, uh, it's practically essential for making informed financial decisions."
Madeline Watson rolled her eyes with affectionate exasperation, her auburn hair framing her face as she looked at her husband with the patient expression of someone who had spent years managing brilliant men who overthought everything.
"Phil," she said with gentle warmth, "you're encouraging him. These two don't need encouragement when it comes to over-analyzing things."
"But the over-analysis is the fun part!" Phillip protested, his enthusiasm clearly infectious as he leaned forward with scientific excitement. "Think about it—we're witnessing the intersection of magical economics and international currency exchange! The research possibilities alone are, are just extraordinary!"
"Dad," MJ said with fond desperation, "please don't turn buying school supplies into a research project. We'll never get out of here."
"Everything's a research project if you approach it with the right mindset," Phillip replied with irrepressible academic enthusiasm.
George Stacy, who had been observing this family chaos with the patient expression of someone accustomed to managing complicated situations, cleared his throat with cop authority that immediately commanded attention.
"Okay," he said with characteristic Boston directness, "how about we let the professors explain the money situation before we start planning doctoral dissertations about magical economic theory?"
"Dad's right," Gwen agreed with systematic practicality, pulling out what appeared to be a small recording device with professional efficiency. "Let's collect the data first, then analyze it."
"You brought a recording device to a financial briefing?" George asked with fond exasperation mixed with professional pride. "Gwen, you're eleven. This isn't a police investigation."
"Information gathering is always valuable," Gwen replied with serious intensity that made her sound much older than her years. "Besides, if we're going to navigate a foreign economic system, we need accurate data."
"She's got a point," Walter Hardy said with quiet approval, his British accent lending weight to his words as he assessed the situation with security consultant precision. "Understanding the financial parameters is crucial for risk management."
"Risk management?" Helen Leeds asked with practical concern, her voice carrying the kind of maternal anxiety that came from trying to prepare for unknown challenges. "What kind of risks are we talking about? Financial risks? Security risks? Are the magical shops dangerous?"
"Not dangerous," Aurora Sinclair interjected with theatrical reassurance, her voice carrying that distinctive combination of authority and warmth that made everything sound both important and perfectly manageable. "Simply... different. The magical commercial environment operates according to principles that may be unfamiliar to those accustomed to non-magical retail experiences."
"Define different," George Leeds said with engineering practicality, his accent carrying that particular Steven He deadpan delivery that made even serious questions sound slightly amused. "Because in my experience, when officials say 'different,' they usually mean 'complicated in ways you haven't anticipated yet.'"
"That's... not entirely inaccurate," Aurora admitted with diplomatic honesty that suggested she had considerable experience with parental concerns about magical complications.
"Great," May said with resigned fondness, "more magical complications. Because yesterday wasn't exciting enough."
"Yesterday was amazing," Harry said with fierce loyalty to the magical experiences that had connected him to his heritage and his friends' future. "Moving staircases and talking pictures and food that appears by magic—what's not to love?"
"The part where we have no idea what we're doing," Ben replied with gentle humor, his voice carrying that steady warmth that made even chaos feel manageable. "But that's okay. We're learning."
"We're definitely learning," Walter Hardy agreed with dry humor. "Yesterday I learned that architectural engineering is optional in the magical world. Today I'm apparently going to learn about economic systems that don't follow conventional mathematical principles."
"Ooh, non-conventional mathematical principles!" Ned said with obvious excitement, his enthusiasm bubbling over at the prospect of mathematical weirdness. "That sounds awesome! Are we talking about like, magical number theory? Enchanted statistics? Supernatural geometry?"
McGonagall's lips twitched in what might have been amusement at his mathematical enthusiasm, her sharp eyes showing approval for his curiosity.
"Something rather like that," she said with crisp efficiency, reaching for the first leather pouch with ceremonial gravity. "Which brings us to the matter at hand."
She placed the pouch on the table with a solid *thunk* that immediately commanded everyone's attention, the weight of it suggesting serious money rather than token educational allowances.
"As part of the international exchange program," Aurora began with professional warmth that made complex bureaucratic processes sound like exciting opportunities, "both the British Ministry of Magic and MACUSA have established educational funds specifically for exchange students."
"Educational funds," Peter repeated with immediate interest, his scientific curiosity engaging with the systematic approach to magical education financing. "Like scholarships? Grants? Student loans with favorable interest rates?"
"More like educational investments," Aurora replied with diplomatic precision. "These funds are designed to ensure that financial considerations don't create barriers to magical education."
"That's incredibly generous," May said with genuine gratitude, though her protective instincts were clearly engaged by the magnitude of what they were being offered. "What kind of... expectations... come with that level of investment?"
"The expectation," McGonagall said with Scottish directness that brooked no argument, "is that you take your education seriously and contribute positively to the magical community."
"That's it?" Felicia asked with slight surprise, her silver-green eyes sparkling with delight at the universe's continued provision of exactly what she needed. "No complicated contracts? No binding magical oaths? No supernatural debt collection?"
"Just the expectation that you use the opportunity wisely," Aurora confirmed with warm authority.
"And maybe don't blow up any classrooms," McGonagall added with dry humor that suggested she had considerable experience with students whose enthusiasm occasionally exceeded their caution.
"That seems... reasonable," Peter said thoughtfully, though his expression suggested he was already mentally cataloging the laboratory safety protocols he would need to research. "I mean, classroom explosions are generally counterproductive to learning objectives anyway."
"Generally," McGonagall agreed with what was definitely amusement now.
"Mr. Parker," she continued formally, extending the first pouch toward Peter with ceremonial gravity, "your educational fund."
Peter accepted the pouch with careful reverence, immediately noting its surprising heft and the way the leather seemed to warm slightly at his touch. His scientific curiosity was clearly engaged by the craftsmanship—the materials, the construction, the obvious magical enhancements that made it both beautiful and functional.
"Whoa," he said with genuine amazement, hefting the weight with obvious surprise. "This is... this is really heavy. Like, genuinely heavy. How much money is in here?"
"Enough," McGonagall replied with characteristic Scottish directness.
"Define enough," Peter pressed with characteristic inability to leave interesting questions unanswered. "Are we talking about basic necessities, or comprehensive educational support, or—"
"Peter," MJ interrupted with fond exasperation, "maybe open it and look before you start calculating the economic implications?"
"But understanding the scope is important for—"
"Dude," Ned said with gentle interruption, "just look at the money. We can analyze it after we see it."
Peter fumbled with the pouch's clasp, his fingers slightly unsteady with excitement and nervousness about the magnitude of what they were being given. When he finally got it open, his eyes went wide with genuine shock.
"Oh my God," he breathed, staring into the pouch with obvious amazement. "There's... there's a lot of money in here. Like, a LOT of money."
"How much is a lot?" Gwen asked with investigative interest, leaning forward to peer into the pouch with systematic curiosity.
"I don't know how to calculate it yet because I don't understand the exchange rates," Peter admitted with scientific honesty, "but there are like... dozens of gold coins. Maybe hundreds."
"Hundreds of gold coins?" Harry asked with nine-year-old amazement, his eyes going wide with wonder at the magnitude of the gift his friends were receiving. "That sounds like treasure! Like actual pirate treasure!"
"It's not pirate treasure," May said with gentle correction, though her own eyes were wide with amazement at the generosity they were witnessing. "It's educational investment from people who want to make sure you have everything you need to succeed."
"Same thing," Harry replied with nine-year-old logic that was hard to argue with. "Treasure is treasure."
The remaining pouches were distributed with similar ceremony, each student receiving their allocation with expressions ranging from Ned's wide-eyed amazement ("This is like winning the lottery, but for magic school!") to Gwen's systematic assessment of the security features ("These clasps are really well designed—sophisticated locking mechanism, probably enchanted against theft"), to Felicia's obvious delight at the universe's continued provision of exactly what she needed ("I love it when things work out perfectly").
MJ accepted her pouch with artistic appreciation for both its practical functionality and aesthetic beauty, her fingers tracing the intricate leather work with obvious admiration.
"This is beautiful," she said with genuine appreciation, examining the craftsmanship with artist's attention to detail. "Look at the leather work—it's like functional art. And it feels... warm? Is that normal for magical money pouches?"
"The pouches are enchanted to protect their contents and respond to their owners," Aurora explained with professional satisfaction. "They'll remain secure and accessible only to you throughout your time at Hogwarts."
"Magical security features," Walter Hardy said with obvious approval, his security consultant instincts clearly engaged by the sophisticated protective measures. "Impressive. Biometric magical locks, essentially."
"Something like that," Aurora confirmed with diplomatic agreement.
"Now then," McGonagall continued with academic precision, producing what appeared to be a handful of gleaming coins from her own purse, "let me explain the wizarding monetary system."
She arranged three different coins on the table with the careful positioning of someone conducting an important demonstration. The largest was unmistakably gold, catching the morning light with the kind of warm gleam that suggested both purity and substantial value. The medium coin was silver, with intricate engravings that seemed to shift slightly when viewed from different angles. The smallest was bronze, but polished to a shine that made it look more precious than its material suggested.
"Ooh, shiny," Ned said with obvious appreciation, his eyes reflecting the golden gleam with childlike wonder. "They're actually really beautiful. Like, someone put serious artistic effort into making money that looks awesome."
"The aesthetic considerations are quite remarkable," Phillip Watson agreed with analytical enthusiasm, immediately pulling out his omnipresent notebook to begin sketching currency diagrams. "The symbolic iconography alone suggests a complex cultural relationship with monetary representation."
"Dad," MJ said with fond exasperation, "it's just money. Pretty money, but still just money."
"There's no such thing as 'just money,'" Phillip replied with characteristic academic intensity. "Currency systems reflect entire civilizational approaches to value, exchange, and social organization. The aesthetic choices here are, uh, they're really quite fascinating from an anthropological perspective."
"Phil," Madeline said with gentle warning, "notebook down. Let's experience the magical money before you start writing papers about it."
"But the preliminary observations are crucial for—"
"Notebook. Down."
Phillip reluctantly closed his notebook, though his hands clearly itched to continue taking notes about the intersection of magical economics and cultural anthropology.
"These are Galleons," McGonagall said with professional authority, indicating the golden coins with the kind of precision that suggested she had given this explanation many times before. "The primary unit of wizarding currency in Britain. Made of genuine gold, though enchanted for durability and security."
"Actual gold?" Walter Hardy asked with immediate professional interest, his security instincts clearly engaging with the concept of carrying valuable precious metals as everyday currency. "That seems potentially problematic from a theft prevention perspective. What kind of security measures prevent opportunistic acquisition?"
"Magical security measures," Aurora explained with diplomatic reassurance that suggested she had fielded this question from security-conscious parents many times before. "The coins are enchanted to be extremely difficult to counterfeit, and they resist most forms of non-magical acquisition or damage."
"Most forms?" George Stacy pressed with cop instincts that had been trained to focus on qualifying terms and potential security gaps.
"Magical theft by magical means is theoretically possible," Aurora admitted with academic honesty, "but extremely rare and heavily prosecuted by magical law enforcement. The risk is minimal."
"Magical law enforcement," George repeated with professional interest. "Are we talking about magical police? Magical courts? Magical prisons?"
"All of the above," McGonagall confirmed with crisp efficiency. "The magical legal system is quite comprehensive, though it operates according to principles that may be unfamiliar to those accustomed to non-magical jurisprudence."
"Different how?" Gwen asked with investigative curiosity, her systematic mind clearly engaging with the concept of alternative legal frameworks.
"Some crimes can only be committed magically," Aurora explained with diplomatic care, "and some evidence can only be gathered through magical means. The legal framework has adapted accordingly."
"That sounds fascinating from a jurisprudence perspective," George said with genuine professional interest. "Alternative approaches to evidence gathering, testimony verification, criminal justice..."
"Dad," Gwen interrupted with fond exasperation, "maybe save the legal analysis for after we understand the money?"
"Right. Money first, legal theory second."
"The silver coins are Sickles," McGonagall continued, indicating the medium-sized currency with academic thoroughness, "and the bronze coins are Knuts, which represent the smallest denomination."
"Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts," Peter repeated with scientific precision, his analytical mind clearly working to categorize and systematize the new information. "What's the exchange rate between denominations? Are we looking at a decimal system for easy calculation, or something more complex?"
"More complex," McGonagall replied with what might have been amusement at his immediate assumption that magical systems would follow conventional mathematical logic.
"How much more complex?" Ned asked with practical concern, because complicated math could make everyday transactions significantly more challenging for someone who preferred straightforward numerical relationships.
"There are seventeen Sickles to one Galleon," McGonagall explained with academic precision, "and twenty-nine Knuts to one Sickle."
A moment of absolute silence fell as several mathematically-inclined minds processed these numbers, immediately recognizing that they defied every conventional approach to decimal currency exchange.
"Seventeen and twenty-nine," Peter said slowly, his voice carrying the kind of careful disbelief that came from encountering systems that challenged his understanding of logical organization. "Those are... very specific numbers. And they don't follow any standard base-ten mathematical framework."
"They're also really weird numbers to pick," Felicia added with practical concern, already trying to work through conversion calculations in her head. "Like, why not something easy like ten or twenty? Why make the math complicated?"
"Complicated math makes me sad," Ned said with honest anxiety, his usual enthusiasm dimmed by the prospect of difficult numerical calculations affecting everyday purchases. "I'm going to need a calculator just to buy lunch."
"You'll adapt," Helen Leeds said with maternal reassurance, though her own expression suggested she was also struggling with the mathematical implications. "People learn to work with whatever system they need to use."
"But why make it complicated in the first place?" MJ asked with artistic frustration at unnecessarily complex design choices. "Like, from an aesthetic perspective, simple is usually better. Why choose arbitrary complicated numbers?"
"They're not arbitrary," Gwen said with sudden investigative insight, her systematic mind clearly making connections that others had missed. "Seventeen and twenty-nine—those are both prime numbers, aren't they?"
"Prime numbers," Peter repeated with growing excitement as his scientific curiosity engaged with the mathematical pattern. "Yes! Seventeen and twenty-nine are both prime numbers. That can't be coincidence."
"What's the significance of prime numbers?" Harry asked with characteristic directness, his nine-year-old mind immediately focusing on the most important question. "I mean, besides being hard to divide."
McGonagall and Aurora exchanged a look that suggested they had been expecting this question and had prepared for it accordingly, their expressions showing approval for the students' analytical thinking.
"Both seventeen and twenty-nine are indeed prime numbers," Aurora explained with professional satisfaction at their quick understanding, her voice carrying the particular warmth that came from sharing elegant mathematical principles. "In magical theory, prime numbers are considered to possess inherent protective and stabilizing properties."
"Protective properties," Phillip Watson repeated with fascination, his academic enthusiasm clearly overriding his wife's notebook restrictions as he began making rapid mental calculations. "So the currency system is built around mathematical principles that enhance magical security? That's, that's actually quite sophisticated from a systems design perspective."
"Precisely," McGonagall confirmed with approval for his quick grasp of the underlying principles. "Prime numbers resist division, which makes them naturally resistant to certain forms of magical manipulation or counterfeiting."
"That's brilliant," Peter said with genuine admiration for the elegant intersection of mathematics and magical security. "Using mathematical properties that are inherently resistant to manipulation as the foundation of your entire economic system—that's like building security into the structure itself rather than adding it as an afterthought."
"But it also makes everyday transactions really annoying," Felicia pointed out with practical frustration, her lucky intuition apparently not extending to making complicated math easier. "Like, how do you figure out change when you're buying things? Do you just memorize all the possible combinations?"
"Or do you carry around conversion charts?" MJ added with artistic exasperation at the practical complications introduced by elegant theoretical principles. "Because this is going to make shopping way more complicated than it needs to be."
"You develop intuition over time," Aurora replied with diplomatic understanding that suggested she had considerable experience with newcomers struggling with the mathematical complexities of magical currency. "Most magical folk learn to think in terms of magical denominations rather than converting to decimal equivalents."
"It's like learning to think in a foreign language," Helen Leeds observed with practical wisdom born of educational experience. "Eventually you stop translating every word and start thinking directly in the new language."
"Except this is math," Ned said with lingering anxiety about his ability to adapt to non-decimal currency systems. "And math is already hard enough without making the numbers weird."
"The numbers aren't weird," Gwen said with systematic precision, her investigative mind clearly appreciating the underlying logic. "They're strategically chosen for specific security properties. That's actually really smart design."
"Smart design that makes buying lunch complicated," Ned replied with fond exasperation at his friend's tendency to appreciate theoretical elegance over practical convenience.
"What's the approximate conversion to American dollars?" George Stacy asked with characteristically direct practicality, because understanding relative purchasing power was essential for any kind of meaningful financial planning.
"Variable," McGonagall replied with academic honesty, "but roughly five dollars per Galleon, depending on current exchange rates and economic conditions in both worlds."
Phillip Watson's head snapped up with obvious amazement, his rapid-fire analytical mind immediately processing the purchasing power implications of this exchange rate.
"Five dollars per Galleon," he repeated with growing wonder, his hands beginning to gesture expressively as he calculated. "So these pouches contain what, approximately... oh my. Oh, that's... that's quite a lot of money. Quite a lot."
"How much is quite a lot?" May asked with maternal concern about the magnitude of the gift they were accepting, her protective instincts clearly engaged by the generosity being shown to their children.
"If there are even fifty Galleons in each pouch," Phillip calculated with rapid-fire enthusiasm, "that's approximately $250 per student. But if there are hundreds of coins as Peter suggested..."
"We're looking at thousands of dollars worth of educational investment," Walter Hardy concluded with security consultant precision, his professional assessment clearly struggling with the magnitude of the generosity. "Per student."
"That's incredibly generous," Madeline Watson said with genuine gratitude mixed with the particular concern that came from accepting help that felt disproportionately magnanimous. "What kind of... expectations... accompany this level of investment?"
"The expectation that you use it wisely," McGonagall replied with Scottish directness that suggested she had no patience for complicated obligations or hidden conditions. "That you take your education seriously, contribute positively to the magical community, and pass on similar opportunities to future generations when you're able to do so."
"That's... actually really beautiful," MJ said quietly, her artistic sensibilities clearly touched by the concept of educational generosity as a cyclical community investment. "It's like magical paying-it-forward, but with actual economic impact."
"Exactly that," Aurora confirmed with warm approval. "The magical community succeeds when everyone has the opportunity to develop their gifts and contribute their unique perspectives."
"Plus," McGonagall added with practical Scottish efficiency, "students from non-magical families qualify for additional educational assistance funds, which have been included in your allocations."
"Additional funds," Ben repeated with quiet amazement, his steady warmth clearly moved by the comprehensive support being offered to their children. "So they really will have everything they need."
"Everything they need and quite a bit more," Aurora confirmed with diplomatic satisfaction.
"This is like Christmas and my birthday and winning the lottery all at the same time," Ned said with bubbling excitement, his enthusiasm clearly overcoming any lingering anxiety about complicated mathematical currency conversion. "Except better, because it's for magic school."
"It's the universe providing exactly what we need exactly when we need it," Felicia said with characteristic confidence in cosmic arrangements, her silver-green eyes sparkling with delight. "Which is pretty much how things usually work out for me."
"Your relationship with fortuitous circumstances continues to be remarkable," Walter observed with fond parental amazement at his daughter's consistently excellent luck.
Harry, who had been listening to this financial discussion with the focused attention he gave to anything involving his friends' welfare, suddenly spoke up with characteristic directness that cut through all the economic complexity to the essential question.
"Does this mean Peter and MJ and everyone have enough money to buy everything they need to be safe and successful at magic school?" he asked with nine-year-old concern that made the abstract discussion suddenly very real and personal.
"Yes, Harry," McGonagall replied with gentle certainty, clearly understanding that Harry's question came from deep protective concern rather than mere curiosity about financial systems. "They have everything they need to succeed at Hogwarts."
Harry's face lit up with obvious relief, his protective instincts apparently satisfied by this official confirmation of his friends' comprehensive support.
"Good," he said with simple satisfaction. "That's what matters."
"That's exactly what matters," Ben agreed with paternal warmth, reaching over to ruffle Harry's hair with obvious affection for his boy's ability to focus on the most important elements of any situation.
Peter, who had been examining the coins with scientific fascination while listening to the broader conversation, looked up with the kind of practical question that characterized his approach to understanding new systems.
"So how do we know if we're spending appropriately?" he asked with logical concern about fiscal responsibility. "I mean, what do things cost? Are magical textbooks more expensive than regular textbooks? What about laboratory equipment? Personal items? Emergency supplies?"
"We'll be visiting the shops systematically," Aurora explained with professional efficiency, consulting what appeared to be an enchanted schedule that glowed softly with updated timing and routing information. "Each establishment will provide price guidance, and Professor McGonagall and I will be available to help you make appropriate purchasing decisions."
"Plus," Felicia added with characteristic confidence in the universe's tendency to arrange things favorably, "I have a feeling that everything will work out appropriately. The universe seems to be really invested in making this whole magical education thing work out perfectly for all of us."
"Your cosmic optimism is inspiring," Walter said with fond paternal skepticism about relying entirely on universal benevolence for financial planning, "but perhaps we should also approach this with some practical fiscal responsibility?"
"Dad, it's magic money for buying magic school supplies in magic shops," Felicia replied with gentle exasperation at her father's continued application of conventional security principles to magical situations. "I think conventional fiscal responsibility might not be the most relevant framework here."
"Basic principles of resource management apply everywhere," Walter insisted with characteristic attention to systematic approaches, "even in magical contexts."
"Actually," George Leeds interjected with engineering practicality, "understanding purchasing power and relative costs is important for budgeting throughout the school year. We want to make sure the funds last appropriately."
"The allocations have been calculated to cover all necessary expenses plus reasonable allowance for personal preferences and emergency situations," McGonagall assured them with academic precision born of years of experience with student financial management. "Students rarely exhaust their funds before the end of term."
"What happens if someone does run out of money?" Ned asked with practical anxiety born of his general tendency to worry about potential problems before they occurred. "Like, is there emergency funding available, or do you just... not get to buy things anymore?"
"Emergency provisions exist," Aurora confirmed with reassuring authority that suggested the magical educational system had comprehensive support structures in place, "though they're rarely needed. The house system also provides community support—older students often help younger ones navigate both academic and practical challenges."
"So it's like having magical older siblings who help you figure out how everything works?" MJ asked with social curiosity about the peer support systems that would be available to them.
"Something very like that," Aurora agreed with warm approval for her understanding of the community-building aspects of magical education. "One of the great strengths of the house system is the way it creates lasting bonds between students across different years and backgrounds."
Harry, whose protective instincts were clearly engaged by any discussion of older students and peer relationships, looked up with characteristic directness.
"What if the older students aren't nice?" he asked with nine-year-old concern about potential social challenges his friends might face. "What if they're mean to the American kids, or what if they don't want to help?"
McGonagall's expression softened with obvious understanding of his protective concern for his friends' social wellbeing.
"House loyalty runs very deep at Hogwarts, Harry," she explained with gentle authority. "Once you're sorted into a house, you become family. The older students take their responsibility to help younger house members very seriously."
"But what if Peter and MJ and everyone get sorted into different houses?" Harry pressed with growing anxiety about potential separation and social isolation. "What if they can't help each other because they're in different magical families?"
"Then they'll make new friends while keeping their old ones," Ben said with steady paternal wisdom, recognizing Harry's deeper fear about losing the connections that had become central to his sense of security. "Houses create new relationships, they don't destroy existing ones."
"Plus," Peter added with characteristic enthusiasm for problem-solving, "we'll see each other in classes, at meals, in common areas. The house system might actually help us make friends more easily by giving us built-in social connections."
"And," MJ said with artistic confidence in the power of genuine friendship to transcend institutional boundaries, "we're going to be friends no matter what arbitrary magical hat decides about our living arrangements. Some things are bigger than housing assignments."
"Way bigger," Ned agreed with loyal certainty. "We're a team. Teams stick together regardless of where they sleep at night."
"Exactly," Gwen said with systematic logic. "Social relationships based on genuine compatibility and shared experiences are more durable than institutional groupings. We'll be fine."
Felicia nodded with characteristic confidence in favorable outcomes, her lucky intuition clearly suggesting that everything would work out perfectly.
"Besides," she added with a slight grin, "if my luck works the way I think it does, we'll probably end up in compatible houses anyway. The universe seems to like keeping good friends together when it matters."
"Though it would be interesting from a social dynamics perspective if you were distributed across different houses," Gwen observed with analytical curiosity that briefly overrode her friendship sensitivity. "You could provide unique insights into inter-house relationships and comparative social structures."
"Gwen," Ned said with gentle exasperation, "could you maybe not treat our potential separation as a fascinating research opportunity?"
"Sorry," Gwen said with mild embarrassment, clearly recognizing that her investigative instincts had momentarily taken precedence over social sensitivity. "Professional hazard. Dad's analytical approach is rubbing off on me."
"Hey," George Stacy protested with mock offense at being blamed for his daughter's systematic thinking, "my analytical approach focuses on practical security concerns, not treating my friends like research subjects."
"That's not necessarily better, Dad," Gwen pointed out with fond exasperation at her father's occupational tendency to assume potential criminal activity in most social situations.
"At least I don't take notes about people's behavioral patterns," George defended with parental dignity.
"You literally have a mental file on everyone in our neighborhood," Gwen replied with affectionate accuracy. "Including detailed assessments of their potential criminal tendencies."
"That's different. That's professional vigilance."
"That's the same thing with worse social consequences."
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there!