The ceremony at the Ministry reminded me of one very important thing—my friends. I had spent the entire summer holidays working my butt off and grinding away at everything, paying very little attention to them. It was strange how they had grown on me, even though they were still just children. Yet, their maturity was far greater than anyone would have expected. Compared to my former world, they definitely seemed older. That was also why I agreed to meet the guys at Draco's today.
I still had an hour to spare, so I headed straight to Master Vane. Of course, I should have taken care of this much sooner, but with all the hard work, I had completely forgotten about it.
As soon as I stepped inside, a bell chimed above the door. I walked past the magical items—some of them pulsed strangely, drawing me in just like the electronics, computers, consoles, and games in my old world used to—and headed straight for the counter.
Just as I expected, the frowning, grey-haired Cilian Vane sat behind the counter. Frowning came incredibly naturally to him, as did his sarcastic reaction the moment he looked up at me.
"Ahhh, our new hero!" he smirked. "Roll out the red carpet!"
"Thank you, thank you." I rolled my eyes. "I need something from you, Master Vane."
"Of course... Everyone always wants something from me!" he muttered under his breath, before continuing louder, "What wouldn't I do for our hero, eh?"
"If it bothers you that you didn't get an award too, I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. I didn't even get a say in the matter," I replied, sounding a bit annoyed now.
"Bah, what does an old man like me need awards for?" He shook his head. "I'm just teasing you! Enchanting items requires patience... You might still have it with me, but the whole of England saw your disgusted look at our wonderful minister on the front page!"
"I saw that photo..." I shook my head in disapproval. "I admit I was disgusted, but I doubt many people noticed. You, after all, are a master..." I paused for a moment and then added with a pointed smirk, "...an old master."
He studied me with a frown for a moment while I calmly looked him straight in the eye. Finally, he nodded with a small smile, this time without any mockery.
"True. People are idiots."
"I agree with that, of course, Master Vane. But even for idiots, the sun shines." I paused for a second. I saw him taking a breath to speak, but I didn't have time for a philosophical debate about fools and wise masters, so I quickly continued, "Can we get down to business?"
"Bah, business, business..." he grumbled, but finally nodded. "What do you need, Rosier?"
"I need a small chest to store powerful Dark Magic objects. I need to make sure the magic from those items doesn't escape the chest—some kind of influence blocker."
"What kind of magical effect do these objects have?" he asked with complete seriousness.
"Mind reading, emotion reading, magical manipulation, potential possession."
"That doesn't sound like ordinary Dark Magic to me," Vane remarked.
"It's the most disgusting magic I've ever encountered, Master," I nodded solemnly. "But I have to keep these items somewhere... though I'd prefer to dump them at the bottom of the sea."
The mental image of a Voldemort-shark was so amusing that I smirked to myself. Master Vane, however, remained completely grave.
"So, a chest with heavy magic containment," he rubbed his chin. "Any other requirements?"
"There are multiple items. I need the chest to have a partitioned interior so the objects absolutely do not touch." I thought for a moment. "Furthermore, the chest must open exclusively with my blood."
"And the power source? Will the runes and enchantments feed off the items inside?"
"No, I have no idea what might happen to the objects in that case," I shook my head. "It would be better to have passive absorption of ambient magic, not from the inside. And on top of that, I could charge it manually myself."
"If you told me exactly what these items are and what kind of magic we're dealing with, I could design it much more precisely, Rosier."
"Unfortunately, it will be better for both you and your family if you don't know what it's for," I looked him dead in the eye, completely serious. "These items belong to an extremely dangerous individual."
He sized me up for a moment, but then smirked and bowed his head slightly. "If he weren't already six feet under, I'd almost think you wanted this for You-Know-Who's belongings."
Fortunately, he was just jotting down the specifications of what I wanted on a piece of parchment, so he didn't notice my reaction. I was certainly no actor, so he would have uncovered the truth immediately.
"Size?"
"Seventy by fifty centimeters will suffice."
"Hmm, that will cost sixty-five thousand Galleons," Vane announced with a smile.
"What? That much?"
"Of course... You need multi-layered internal magic isolation, a custom runic sequence, blood magic for the opening mechanism—which, by the way, is highly illegal—and on top of that, ambient magic absorption with flawless isolation from the inner contents," the old man explained, grinning from ear to ear. "It's a good career, young man. I hope you've chosen Ancient Runes and Arithmancy as your electives!"
"I'm afraid I have to disappoint you, but I'm only entering my second year..."
Master Vane pushed himself up from his chair, leaned slightly over the counter, and inspected me suspiciously from head to toe.
"Good genes," I remarked dryly. "Wouldn't there be some discount for a potential apprentice, Master?"
He settled back into his chair and nodded. "If you give me your word that you will enroll in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy in your third year, then yes."
"You have my word," I nodded immediately with a smile. "I was planning to anyway."
"Sixty thousand, but not a single Knut less!" he offered firmly.
"Deal," I agreed, satisfied.
For now, I had more than enough Galleons. What's more, I could sense massive potential from the first restaurant, as did Ranrok, who had already managed to scout out the best locations for future branches. In my opinion, it would have been better to scale the business through delivery first rather than opening new restaurants right away, but I had a sufficiently stable income thanks to Jonathan Reeves—my pet, who by this point wasn't even attempting to resist the Imperius Curse anymore. Thus, I had enough capital to properly launch both ventures at once.
I had also thought about investing in the Muggle world. Several companies I knew from my past represented a practically guaranteed profit. The only problem with investing, however, is that real profit is only realized when you sell the shares. The vast majority of companies reinvest their revenue into further expansion. While the investments gain value, dividends are practically non-existent because of this. I wouldn't see any of that money until the sale, but I needed cash and cash flow right now.
I believed in the potential of my restaurants, so I was convinced that soon enough, I would be able to finance the business's expansion from the profits of the first one, while gradually continuing to invest elsewhere on the side.
Master Vane dutifully wrote down the order specifications along with the price. Finally, he pulled a quill from a drawer and signed on the left side. Then he slid the parchment over and handed it to me. Even if I hadn't felt the blood magic radiating from the quill right away, the bright red signature would have given it away instantly. Of course, I carefully read every single written word—though I had to spend a moment deciphering his calligraphy—and finally signed the order in my own blood.
"And I'll need one more item," I announced the moment I slid the parchment back to him.
"Of course you do..." He rolled his eyes and mimicked me with a dramatic smirk. "What kind of item?"
"Are you familiar with Muggle weapons and their ammunition?"
"Eh, not really," Vane shook his head. "Don't they still use swords and bows?"
I think my jaw actually dropped. In that exact second, Vane burst into genuine, almost mischievous laughter. He'd gotten me, the old fox. I waited impatiently for him to finally recover from his fit of amusement.
"I know they have some sort of strange metal weapons," he nodded with a teasing smirk.
"Ah... I was thinking of an item that would protect me from their ammunition. Some kind of automatic defense..." I noted with a trace of disappointment.
"I get the feeling you lead quite an exciting life... and you're still wet behind the ears," he shook his head, pulling his eyebrows into another scowling grimace, and continued with a sigh: "I may be a master, but I don't know everything... Let me let you in on a secret. Every master like me has a team. If there's something I don't know, I pass the information to my team, they study everything required, and I receive precise specifications for the enchantment. So, what you're asking for is possible, and I can do it." He paused for a moment and then continued: "If you follow my path, you'll have a team just like that. There isn't a master alive who doesn't, it's practically impossible... Well, unless you want to churn out subpar, dysfunctional junk," he scoffed in disgust. "So, tell me everything about this ammunition. I'll write it down and pass it along." Vane grabbed another clean piece of parchment, a quill with ink, and nodded at me. "Dictate, boy."
"Muggle weapons and their ammunition. They have pistols and submachine guns. The ammunition consists of bullets, made of lead or copper, I think—I'm not entirely sure. Muggles fire them at tremendous speeds, and it's extremely dangerous. The bullets are light and small, but they can fire them in rapid bursts." I paused for a moment, wondering if I knew anything more, but in the end, I just shook my head. "In practice, I need an artifact that, the moment someone shoots at me, would automatically generate some kind of repelling shield so the bullet doesn't injure me."
Vane diligently wrote down every single word of mine on the parchment.
"What kind of artifact? A bracelet? A necklace? A ring? Something else?" he grumbled. "Dictate, boy, before I die of old age..."
"A gold ring," I specified. "Manual magical recharging, as well as passive absorption from the environment. The primary enchantment should be against Muggle weapons, and I want the ring to be extremely durable."
"Are you sure you want a ring, specifically?" he asked after a moment of consideration. "Not that I don't want to make a profit off you, Rosier... It warms my heart to empty your vaults, and your grandfather is surely spinning in his grave if he's watching us."
"I'm paying for this with my own money, Master Vane," I smirked at him. "So grandfather is definitely not spinning in his grave. The smaller the surface area for runes and enchantments, the higher the price, right?"
"Yes," he nodded with mock disappointment. "We can encase corundum in gold. A runic sequence on such a small space requires far more intricate detail, so the labor cost will be higher. The difference will be a few thousand."
"A few thousand extra Galleons is fine. So, what would the final price be?"
"I have no idea, I only have it written down for now... My people will run the numbers, and then I'll contact you with a specific offer," Master Vane replied. "As for the chest, that will be ready around the end of September, or during October, depending on how my schedule looks."
"Agreed, thank you," I nodded with a smile. "A truly excellent business. Earning such a sum in just a month."
"The absolute best, young man. Quite simply, there is no better career. And just between us—that chest can be finished in a week!" He winked at me with a grin. "Don't forget to sign up for those classes!"
"Of course. Thank you," I returned his smile and turned to leave.
I already possessed enhanced durability and regeneration, and with the future protective ring against Muggle weapons, my chances of survival had increased significantly. Even so, it still wasn't enough. I wanted to be unstoppable—and, ideally, completely invincible. Simply the most powerful.
At the same time, I remained a pragmatist. I knew all too well that even with this arsenal, I could come up with hundreds of ways to eliminate a wizard with a skillset similar to mine. Paranoia was entirely justified.
Checking the clock, I was already quite late. With a brief farewell and a feeling of satisfaction, I set off at a brisk pace straight for the Leaky Cauldron.
Both Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron were absolutely packed at the end of August. Crowds of people and students jostled everywhere, so I actually had to wait a while for the Floo Network.
"Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire!" I enunciated the address clearly and instantly vanished in emerald flames.
As the world continued to spin around me, I had a moment to wonder why Floo powder was available to everyone for free at the Leaky Cauldron. It had a price, after all, and it made no sense to waste it on just anyone passing by. Maybe for regular customers, but for everyone? As soon as the spinning finally stopped, it became clear to me. Given its strategic location, the Leaky Cauldron must be subsidized directly by the Ministry of Magic. No business owner would voluntarily pay for Floo powder for strangers without going bankrupt within a month.
Dobby was already waiting in front of the fireplace, bowing low, and spoke in his squeaky voice: "Good day, Mr. Rosier. Follow me, please."
I simply nodded and followed him. He led me through the luxuriously furnished interior of their ancestral home. Everything here was opulent, but from my perspective, completely impractical. Personally, I preferred our ancestral castle, which was built as a defensive battle fortress... but so be it.
Dobby led me outside. I caught a brief glimpse of part of the front garden, where peacocks of various colors—black, blue, and snow-white—were strolling. However, I followed the house-elf around the manor to the back of the property. From a distance, I could see a small Quidditch pitch with hoops and the boys in the air. And they weren't alone. Crabbe was flying on a broom, and Goyle sat on a chair just off the pitch. I really was late.
Theodore was, of course, the first to notice me. I saw him say something to Draco, who had his back turned to me, and after a moment, they all stopped playing. Draco and Theo flew down in my direction while I walked to meet them.
They dismounted right in front of me, and with a soft pop, Dobby vanished. Before I could even begin to apologize, Draco spoke up.
"You're late, cousin," he tapped his left forearm pointedly with a raised eyebrow. "We were starting to think you weren't coming at all."
Theo gave him a curious look and then turned his gaze to me. Before I could say anything in response, he nodded knowingly to himself. Sharp kid.
"My apologies, I had some business to take care of in Diagon Alley and it dragged on a bit," I replied with a calm smile. "The rest of my day is completely free."
"I'm taking Goyle!" Theo smirked at Draco.
"Fine," Draco sighed. "Grab a broom, Patrik," he gestured with a nod toward the brooms lying near the table where Goyle sat.
I walked over to them while Theodore soared back into the air. Draco flew low beside me and immediately started with his typical, overly meticulous pep talk: "It's simple, you control the broom with your whole body. Don't squeeze it tightly with your legs, just gently. Lean to the sides to change direction... We have to win, Patrik, you can do this..."
"I know, I know, Draco, relax."
"Patrik… the first time you sat on a broom, you almost killed yourself," he reminded me in a completely flat tone. "Theo is way too cocky, and even though you fly terribly, I trust we'll pull it off somehow."
I'll show you guys who doesn't know how to fly, I thought determinedly. The Malfoys' brooms were in excellent condition, so I was sure I wouldn't end up splattered on the ground like back at Hogwarts.
So, broom in hand, I just nodded at Draco with a grin. As soon as we started playing, my "talent" showed itself in full force...
For the next two hours, flying was nothing short of pure bullying, and Draco's disappointed gaze pierced through me every few minutes. While I had a natural knack for regular sports, in the air I was like a pure-blooded Muggle. I tried my best, but even though I wasn't a total klutz, I simply couldn't keep up with the other guys. Even Crabbe and Goyle flew better than me—they did have significantly more practice over the years, after all.
So... I had to take it on the chin and admit two things. Quidditch was definitely not my sport, and I certainly hadn't shown them who knew how to fly in the air.
Fortunately, even though Draco was disappointed with the result, we all had a great time and laughed a lot. Granted, I was the main target of that laughter, but I took it in stride and had fun right along with them.
***
Author's note:
Cilian Vane somehow seeing apprentice potential in Patrik… only for our MC to get absolutely humbled by his friends at Quidditch in the end. GG.
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90. AD: Piña Coladas and Rainbow Thongs
91. Blood Traitors
92. Before the Storm
93. Arania Exumai
94. Favors and Frustrations
95. Power and Glory
96. Morning Drills and Slytherin Deals
97. Thrill of the Fight
98. Calculated Risk
99. Flight and Fortune
100. Calculated Arrogance
101. GW: A Cunning Kind of Courage
102. GW2: My Best Friend
103. Pride Before the Haircut
104. Fire and Thunder
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