The Great Hall of Hogwarts had never looked quite so electric on a Tuesday morning. Sunlight streamed through the enchanted ceiling, painting the long tables in soft gold, but the usual chatter of students was replaced by something sharper—an undercurrent of anticipation that crackled like static before a storm. Sullivan stood at the staff table, his dark professor robes embroidered with faint silver runes that shimmered only when the light hit them just right. In his hand, he held a sleek black rectangle no larger than a Muggle paperback: the very first production-model Magic Phone.
Dumbledore had given him permission to demonstrate the device during breakfast, calling it "a most intriguing innovation that deserves to be shared." The old man sat at the center of the high table, eyes twinkling with genuine curiosity, while the other professors watched with varying degrees of skepticism. Snape's expression was a study in controlled disdain, McGonagall's eyebrows were raised in mild disapproval, and Flitwick was practically bouncing in his seat with excitement. Hagrid, who had squeezed into a reinforced chair at the end, kept glancing at the phone like it might sprout wings and fly away.
Sullivan cleared his throat, and the hall fell silent. Even the ghosts paused their drifting to listen.
"Morning, everyone," he began, his voice carrying easily thanks to a subtle Sonorus charm. "Most of you have already heard the rumors. Some of you have even seen prototypes. Today, I'm going to show you what the future of wizarding communication looks like."
He tapped the screen. The device lit up with a soft blue glow, and a chorus of gasps rippled through the students. Fred and George Weasley, seated at the Gryffindor table with identical grins, leaned forward so far they nearly toppled into their porridge.
"Meet the Magic Phone," Sullivan continued. "No more waiting for owls that might get lost or eaten by owls. No more relying on Floo powder that leaves you covered in soot. This little device lets you send messages instantly to anyone else who has one—across Britain, across Europe, even across the ocean if we expand the network."
He demonstrated by opening the FlyMessage app and typing a quick note. The screen flickered, and a moment later, every phone in the hall that had been given to professors or early testers buzzed simultaneously. A wave of startled laughter and excited whispers broke out as students saw the message appear on shared devices.
"Professor Sullivan just sent 'Good morning, Hogwarts!'" Hermione read aloud, her voice filled with awe. She already had her own prototype from earlier private sessions, and she was quickly becoming the unofficial expert among the first-years.
Ron, sitting beside her, poked at the screen with one cautious finger. "Blimey, it's like having an owl in your pocket, but it doesn't poop on your robes."
Harry laughed, but his eyes were fixed on Sullivan with something like hero-worship. The professor who had already saved him from the Dursleys and taught him more about his parents than anyone else was now showing them magic that felt like it came from the future.
Sullivan continued the demonstration, explaining the camera function by snapping a quick photo of the hall and sending it to the group chat he had set up for Raven's Feather. The five founding members—Gemma Farley, Cedric Diggory, the Weasley twins, and Alice Lavine—immediately began replying with their own photos and comments, their phones lighting up the tables like fireflies.
"Each phone can hold up to a hundred photos," Sullivan explained, "and we're working on ways to expand that. The Magical Network behind it is still in its early stages, but it's growing every day. Soon, you'll be able to send voice messages, play games together, and even share news from across the wizarding world in real time."
He paused, letting the excitement build, then added with a sly smile, "And yes, before anyone asks—the Weasley twins have already started designing the first game. Wizard's Chess, but you can play against anyone in the country. They're calling it 'Flying Chess.'"
Fred and George whooped so loudly that even McGonagall had to hide a smile behind her hand. The hall erupted in cheers. For the first time in years, breakfast felt less like a formal meal and more like a festival.
But Sullivan wasn't done. He turned to Dumbledore, who nodded encouragingly, and activated the large projection charm he had prepared earlier. A shimmering holographic screen appeared above the staff table, displaying a live feed from one of the phones in the audience. Students gasped as they saw their own faces reflected back at them.
"This is just the beginning," Sullivan said, his voice steady and confident. "The Magic Phone isn't just a tool—it's the start of a connected wizarding world. Owls will still have their place for formal letters and packages, but for everyday communication, this changes everything."
He let the projection run for a few more moments, showing how students could already message each other across houses. A Hufflepuff girl in the back waved at her Ravenclaw friend on the screen, and the entire hall laughed when the Ravenclaw waved back in real time.
When the demonstration ended, the applause was thunderous. Even some of the Slytherins, who had been watching with carefully neutral expressions, were whispering excitedly among themselves. Gemma Farley, sitting with her house, looked proud enough to burst—she had been one of the first to test the device and had already sold several units to her fellow Slytherins at a small markup.
As the students began to disperse for their morning classes, a few lingered to ask questions. Cedric Diggory approached first, his Hufflepuff scarf slightly askew from the excitement.
"Professor, when can we start developing more apps? The editor you showed us is brilliant, but I keep thinking about what else we could build. A house point tracker? Or maybe a way to schedule study groups across houses?"
Sullivan smiled. "All in good time, Cedric. Focus on the Chess app for now. Once that's stable, we'll expand. Remember, Raven's Feather isn't just about gadgets—it's about using magic to make life better for everyone."
Gemma Farley was next, her eyes sparkling. "Professor, my parents sent word—they want to place an order for fifty phones to test in their European stores. They're offering to handle distribution in France, Germany, Spain, and Italy if we can supply them at cost plus a small margin."
Sullivan's grin widened. "Tell them I'll meet them next weekend. We can finalize the details then. And Gemma—excellent work on the sales so far. You're already the top seller in Raven's Feather."
She flushed with pride and hurried off to her next class, leaving Sullivan alone with his thoughts for a moment. The phone launch was going better than he had dared hope. Production was ramping up steadily, and the early feedback from students and staff was overwhelmingly positive. Even some of the more traditional pure-blood families were showing interest, drawn by the promise of faster communication and the prestige of owning the latest magical innovation.
But success brought new challenges. The Avery family had already reached out through Remus, hinting at a partnership. Sullivan knew Jack Avery was a former Death Eater, and he had his own plans for that particular snake. The brain-eating worms he had planted years ago were still dormant inside Avery, waiting for the right moment to be activated. For now, Sullivan played the long game—using the Averys' owl breeding network to expand distribution while keeping a close eye on their loyalty.
As he walked back toward his office, Sullivan's phone buzzed with a new message from Yuna in America. "Old man Stewart is already asking when the next shipment arrives. He says the American market is going crazy. MACUSA wants to equip every Auror and administrative staff member by the end of the year. You're about to become a very rich man, Su."
He smiled and typed back quickly. "Rich is nice, but I'd rather be useful. Tell Stewart I'll have two hundred units ready for him next month. And remind him that the network fees are non-negotiable. The real money is in the service, not the hardware."
Yuna's reply came with a winking emoji. "You're starting to sound like a proper capitalist. Careful, or I'll start calling you 'Mr. Mogul.'"
Sullivan chuckled as he pocketed the phone. The relationship with Yuna was comfortable—long-distance but steady, with frequent magical calls that often turned steamy when they managed to align their schedules. Tonks, on the other hand, was a constant, vibrant presence at Hogwarts. She had recovered fully from the vampire count's curse thanks to Dumbledore's intervention, and her playful energy brightened Sullivan's days. The two women knew about each other, and while there was no jealousy (yet), Sullivan was careful to keep things balanced. He had never promised exclusivity, and neither had they. For now, it worked.
His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. "Professor Sullivan!"
Hermione Granger was hurrying toward him, her bag overflowing with books. Ron and Harry trailed behind her, looking slightly exasperated.
"Professor, I finished the extra reading you suggested on Muggle telecommunications history," Hermione said breathlessly. "It's fascinating! Did you know that the first telephone call was made in 1876? And now we have something even better with magic!"
Sullivan smiled warmly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Hermione. Keep up the good work. You three are doing well in Muggle Studies. Keep asking questions—that's how you learn."
Ron groaned dramatically. "Professor, do we have to write another essay on how Muggle electricity works? My hand is still sore from the last one."
Harry elbowed him. "Come on, Ron. It's not that bad. Besides, Professor Sullivan said we could try building a simple circuit next week if we finish the theory first."
Sullivan laughed. "Exactly. Theory first, practice second. That's the Muggle way—and it works. Now, off to your next class before you're late."
As the trio hurried away, Sullivan felt a quiet satisfaction. Teaching wasn't just a cover anymore; he genuinely enjoyed watching these young minds open up to new ideas. The system quests were progressing steadily, but the real reward was seeing the wizarding world slowly change because of his work.
Back in his office, he settled in for a long afternoon of research. The Moonstone server was still his biggest project. With the unicorn blood providing a stable power source, he had managed to create a small prototype that could handle basic network traffic for up to fifty devices. But scaling it up to serve all of Britain—let alone Europe and America—would require more than just raw power. He needed a way to manage data flow, security, and expansion without burning through magical resources.
A soft knock at the door pulled him from his notes. Tonks poked her head in, her hair a cheerful shade of turquoise today.
"Busy?" she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
"Always," Sullivan replied, but he set his quill down and smiled. "What's on your mind?"
She crossed the room and perched on the edge of his desk, swinging her legs like a student. "I was thinking about the launch. The phones are selling faster than we can make them. Lupin says the factory is running at full capacity, but demand is still outpacing supply. Have you considered opening a second production line?"
Sullivan nodded. "I have. But we're still limited by raw materials and skilled workers. The Averys have been hinting at a partnership again. They have the owl network and the manufacturing capacity. If we bring them in, we could triple output almost overnight."
Tonks frowned slightly. "The Averys? Aren't they… well-connected to the old Death Eater crowd?"
"Exactly," Sullivan said, his expression turning serious. "That's why I'm being careful. I have leverage on Jack Avery—old business from years ago. If he steps out of line, I can make his life very uncomfortable. But for now, he's useful. And useful people get to stay in the game."
Tonks studied him for a moment, then leaned down and kissed him softly. "Just be careful, Su. I know you're brilliant, but even brilliant people can get in over their heads."
He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling back with a grin. "I've got you watching my back. What could go wrong?"
She laughed and hopped off the desk. "Famous last words. I'll see you at dinner. Don't work too late."
As the door closed behind her, Sullivan leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. The pieces were falling into place. The phones were launching, Raven's Feather was growing, and his influence at Hogwarts was expanding quietly but steadily. The system quests were ticking forward, and his personal power was climbing with every new skill point.
But in the back of his mind, he could feel the shadow of Voldemort looming. Quirrell was still teaching, still scheming, and Dumbledore was watching everything like a chess master with a thousand moves ahead. Sullivan knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he had no intention of being a pawn.
He glanced at his phone one last time. A new message from Yuna had arrived: "Stewart is already planning the American launch party. He wants you there in person. And I want you here. Soon."
Sullivan smiled. The empire was growing, and so was he. The wizarding world was about to change—and he was going to be the one holding the wand that made it happen.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur of research and planning. Sullivan spent hours refining the server's magical circuits, testing new combinations of runes that could handle larger data loads without draining the Moonstone too quickly. By late afternoon, he had managed to increase the server's capacity by twenty percent, enough to support a few hundred simultaneous connections without lag.
He was just about to call it a day when his phone buzzed again—this time with a message from the Raven's Feather group chat. George had sent a prototype screenshot of the Wizard's Chess app. It was rough, but the holographic board looked stunning, and the controls felt intuitive even on the small screen.
Sullivan typed back: "Looks brilliant. Keep refining the graphics and the AI opponent. We'll need it ready for the launch."
Fred replied almost immediately: "Already on it, Professor! George is working on the special pieces for higher ranks. We're thinking enchanted chess sets that actually move when you play online."
Sullivan chuckled. Those two were a force of nature when they put their minds to something. With their help, the app would be ready long before the phones officially launched.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Sullivan finally allowed himself a moment of rest. He poured a glass of firewhisky and sat by the window, looking out over the darkening grounds. The castle was quiet now, most students tucked away in their common rooms or the library, cramming for exams.
His phone buzzed one last time. It was Tonks: "Dinner in the Great Hall? Or should I bring something up to your office? 😉"
Sullivan smiled and typed back: "Office. I've got plans for dessert."
The reply came with a string of heart emojis and a single word: "Perfect."
He set the phone aside and leaned back, letting the warmth of the firewhisky spread through him. The Magic Phone was just the beginning. The network would follow, then the apps, then the entire connected wizarding world he was building. And somewhere in the shadows, Voldemort was stirring, but Sullivan was no longer the man who had fled Britain twelve years ago.
He was ready.
---