Hogwarts, Slytherin Common Room.
This was no longer a gloomy dungeon; it had been transformed into a cyberpunk-style "Loan Shark Center."
A giant red LED scrolling marquee hung on the wall: [STILL WORRIED ABOUT NO CASH FOR A NIMBUS 2000? STRESSED ABOUT HAVING NO GALLEONS FOR A DATE? PROFESSOR SNAPE PROUDLY PRESENTS: SOUL MORTGAGE LOANS. LET YOUR DREAMS PAY THE BILLS!]
Snape sat in an executive chair modified from a potion cauldron, holding stacks of parchment contracts, wearing the distinctive cold smile of a capitalist.
"Next. Weasley."
Ron walked forward tremblingly, holding a drooling Blast-Ended Skrewt (as collateral).
"Professor, I want to borrow 5 Galleons to buy a new quill... Hermione took mine to write her essay."
"Fine." Snape didn't even look up. He tapped the parchment with his wand, and the paper wrapped around Ron's wrist like a snake. "Interest is 2 hours of 'Deep Sleep Time' deducted daily. If you default, your hairline will automatically recede 1 millimeter as a penalty."
"2 hours of sleep?!" Ron screamed in terror. "I'll fall asleep in class!"
"That is your problem," Snape said coldly. "Sign. Or I take your Skrewt to brew a 'Slow-Witted Potion'."
Ron signed his name with tears in his eyes.
Just then, a bone-chilling chewing sound came from the corner.
Cronch... cronch... so fragrant... this shine... this viscosity...
Snape frowned and looked toward the corner.
Ivan was lying on the floor, clutching the hem of Snape's black robes that dragged on the ground. He had buried his face in the fabric, rubbing against it frantically like a hamster, drool dripping from his mouth.
"Potter?" Snape kicked Ivan with the toe of his boot. "What madness is this? You haven't signed your loan contract yet."
Ivan slowly lifted his head.
His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles heavy enough to look like he'd taken two punches. His gaze was unfocused—clearly the result of pulling a 72-hour all-nighter fixing Metaverse bugs.
He looked at Snape, but he didn't see Snape.
In his hallucination, Snape's tall, black figure had transformed into a giant, glistening, black bottle of "Vidal Sassoon Shampoo."
And Snape's greasy black hair? That was the ultimate high-budget commercial effect.
"Shampoo..." Ivan murmured dreamily, sticking out his tongue to lick the hem of Snape's robes. "Is this... deep repair formula? Or anti-dandruff? Why does this bottle look like Professor Snape? That's so cyberpunk..."
"What do you take me for?!" A vein popped on Snape's forehead. He tried to pull his robe back, only to find Ivan's grip shockingly strong (the potential of the sleep-deprived is limitless).
"Don't run..." Ivan hugged the "bottle" tight, even trying to bite Snape's belt buckle (thinking it was the bottle cap). "Let me see the ingredients... silicone-free? Does it prevent hair loss? I want to buy it! I want to become strong too!"
Snape took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to use Sectumsempra to slice Ivan into deli meat.
"Dobby!" Snape roared. "Inject him with a 'Sobriety Shot'! Double dose!"
Dobby's hologram popped up, holding a giant syringe: [Warning: Master, Sobriety Shots are out of stock. Mr. Grindelwald took all of them earlier. He said he needed them for the Blast-Ended Skrewt in Las Vegas.]
"Las Vegas?" Snape paused. "What are they doing there?"
[They are participating in the "Mr. Dark Magic Global" Bodybuilding Contest.]
Dobby pulled up a live feed.
On screen, a brilliantly lit stage (with neon pyramids and Sphinxes in the background).
The host (a Death Eater in a sequined suit) was shouting hoarsely:
"Next up—the 'Golden Bachelor' duo from Nurmengard! Gellert Grindelwald, and his... pet?"
Grindelwald was wearing a tiny black speedo, draped in a mink coat, showing off his perfect inverted-triangle physique to the camera.
Beside him, the giant Blast-Ended Skrewt was wearing a custom tuxedo with a bow tie. Due to imprinting, the Skrewt firmly believed it was Grindelwald's son and was mimicking him, putting its front claws on its hips in a bodybuilding pose.
"ROAR—!!"
The Skrewt let out a roar, spewing a jet of green acid that corroded a massive hole in the stage backdrop.
But this didn't affect the judges' scores.
At the judges' table, a group of Veelas and Giantesses were slamming the "YES" buttons:
"So sexy!"
"Those muscle lines! The sheen on that carapace!"
"The old guy isn't bad either! A bit aged, but he has flavor!"
Grindelwald smugly made a finger-gun gesture at the camera:
"See that, Albus? This is the correct way to rule the world! Not with wands, but with dopamine! My follower count has already surpassed yours! If you don't want Hogwarts to go completely bankrupt, get over here in your maid outfit and be my backup dancer!"
The feed cut back to Hogwarts.
Snape looked at the screen, then at Ivan on the floor chewing his robes, and suddenly felt exhausted.
"This generation of students is impossible," Snape rubbed his temples. "Even the Headmaster is selling his body..."
Just then, Ivan's eyes lit up.
He saw the bottle of "Potent Hair Growth Potion" Snape had just taken out to prevent his own hair loss.
In his hallucination, that wasn't hair tonic. That was the "Black Shampoo Refill Pack!"
"Refill pack!"
Ivan let out a cheer and lunged at Snape like a hungry tiger.
He snatched the bottle, didn't even bother uncorking it, and shoved the entire thing—glass and all—into his mouth, crunching it down.
Crunch, crunch.
Glass shards mixed with green potion trickled down the corner of his mouth.
> [System Alert: Ivan Potter consumed "Snape's Special Blend · Potent Hair Growth Potion · Glass Shard Limited Edition." Intelligence -50, Hair Volume +10,000 (Temporary), Mental State: Berserk.]
Instantly, a thick bush of green hair erupted from Ivan's head. It was prickly and grew wildly like Hagrid's beard, instantly wrapping him into a green ball of yarn.
"I AM FILLED with POWER!!"
Green-Furball Ivan bounced up from the floor, eyes shining as he looked at Snape.
"Professor! Does your 'bottle' have more stock? Give me another! I'm going to turn everyone at Hogwarts bald! Only I can possess this lush hair! I am the King of Volume!!"
Snape looked at the Ivan-turned-Green-Hagrid and silently raised his wand.
"Expelliarmus... no, Expelli-Sanity."
"Stupefy!"
A red light hit Ivan.
But Ivan just wobbled. That thick green hair absorbed the impact of the spell like a sponge.
"Useless!" Ivan laughed maniacally. "This is the power of 'Rejoice'! Smooth! Silky! Unbreakable!!"
Snape looked at Dobby in despair. "How many sedatives left?"
[Only one left, Professor. But...]
Dobby hesitated. [That was prepared for Lord Voldemort. He had an emotional breakdown during his livestream when his fake nose fell off, and he was about to use it to numb himself.]
"Use it on him!" Snape pointed at Ivan. "If we don't stop him, he's going to gnaw the Slytherin Common Room down to the studs!"
Just as Dobby prepared the injection.
Ivan suddenly stopped laughing.
His unfocused eyes stared dead at the top of Snape's head.
In his hallucination, a massive, golden, spinning NFT Purchase QR Code appeared on top of Snape's head.
"Is this..." Ivan reached out a trembling hand, pointing at Snape's scalp. "Is this the purchase portal for the Limited Edition Skin?"
Snape froze, subconsciously touching the top of his head. "What?"
"BUY IT!"
Ivan roared, pulled out his wand, and cast Accio on Snape.
Before Snape could react, an invisible force sucked him right in front of Ivan.
Ivan hugged Snape's thigh, pressed his face against Snape's knee (since Snape was taller), and spoke with pious reverence:
"Godfather... no, Daddy. Your scalp is so smooth... Is this the legendary 'Prestige Edition'? I'm buying! I'm buying with my soul!"
Snape: ???
Am I being sexually harassed? Or am I being treated as merchandise?
"Get off, Potter!" Snape was humiliated and furious, kicking Ivan away.
But Ivan didn't give up.
He rolled on the ground, stood up, and his eyes suddenly became incredibly clear (though still crazy).
He looked at Snape and suddenly revealed the smile of a business genius:
"Professor, I have a brilliant business plan."
Snape stepped back warily. "What do you want?"
"Since your scalp is so smooth, so full of NFT potential," Ivan rubbed his hands together, "why don't we turn the top of your head into a 'Metaverse Billboard'? We'll call it 'Snape's Shining Forehead,' exclusively for hair tonic ads! We charge 100 Galleons per second! We can pay off Grindelwald's debt in no time!"
Snape's face turned black as the bottom of a cauldron.
"You want me to live the rest of my life carrying a billboard on my head?"
"Not just that!" Ivan got more excited, even pulling out parchment to draw a diagram. "We can have 'Bidding Rankings' on your head! Whoever pays the most gets their name floating on your forehead! Like 'Malfoy Family Hair Tonic,' 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Anti-Balding Cream'..."
"ENOUGH!" Snape couldn't take it anymore, sparks flying from his wand tip. "I'm going to show you the prelude to Avada Kedavra right now!"
Just then.
Dobby's voice cut in, laced with panic:
[Urgent Notice! Mr. Grindelwald lost the beauty contest!]
Ivan and Snape froze simultaneously.
"Lost?" Ivan paused. "Isn't the Blast-Ended Skrewt invincible?"
[The Blast-Ended Skrewt won.]
Dobby played the results clip.
On stage, the Skrewt was holding the trophy, looking adorable and confused.
Grindelwald stood next to it with a dark face, holding the runner-up wreath.
[But, while accepting the award, the Skrewt accidentally knocked off Grindelwald's wig... Now the entire wizarding world knows Gellert Grindelwald is actually balding.]
In the video, Grindelwald was frantically covering the top of his head, shouting at the camera:
"Cut the feed! Cut this part out! Albus! Use the Time-Turner to come back and help me! My image is ruined! My hair tonic sales are going to crash!!"
Snape watched the balding Grindelwald on screen, then touched his own greasy but at least thick hair.
He suddenly felt balanced inside.
"It seems," Snape pocketed his wand, a mocking smile curling his lips, "our 'Hairline Loan' business is about to get a major client."
He looked at Ivan and pointed to the contract on the floor:
"Potter, quit dreaming. Send this contract to Nurmengard. Tell Grindelwald if he wants to cover up the truth about his baldness, he needs to sign this 'Lifetime Endorsement Agreement.' The price is—he gives me his tank as a birthday present."
Ivan's eyes lit up, the green fuzz on his head trembling with excitement:
"You got it! On my way! I'll ask him if he needs 'Mediterranean-Style Bangs' while I'm at it? I can Photoshop some for him in the Metaverse!"
Watching Ivan scramble out of the room, Snape sighed and sat back in his chair.
"This isn't Hogwarts..." he muttered to himself. "This is clearly a mental asylum."
Meanwhile, in a corner of the screen.
The real Voldemort (having just logged off the Metaverse) was huddled in a corner, watching the news about Grindelwald going bald. He touched his own newly grown, not-quite-healed nose.
He suddenly felt that he was actually quite handsome.
"Quirrell," Voldemort whispered, "go get me a mirror. I'm taking a selfie. I'm tweeting: #EvenIfIHaveNoNoseIHaveHair."