"Half a wizard? What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked, frowning. "I've never heard that before."
"Because he never went to school," Anne explained. "You're right that Hogwarts sends admission letters to every young witch and wizard of age, and there's a scholarship fund for those who can't afford tuition. But that year, something major happened in the magical education system."
"The Nobby Leach incident?" Hermione said immediately.
"Yes, that's the one," Anne replied with a nod.
Ron and Harry looked completely lost.
"Oh, honestly, you two slept through every single Modern Magical History class, didn't you?" Hermione said, wearing the same exasperated expression she used to have at Hogwarts. "Nobby Leach, 1962 to 1968, the first Muggle-born Minister for Magic. His appointment terrified the pure-blood faction. Many of them resigned from their posts in protest. Then, in 1968, one afternoon, he suddenly resigned due to a mysterious illness. Almost everyone in the Ministry's Department of Magical Education had been appointed by him, so his departure caused chaos. Within the next three months, there were five large-scale strikes and uprisings. The entire event became known as the Nobby Leach Incident. It's said that many Muggle-born children never received their Hogwarts letters that year. Some cases were corrected later, but others… were never found."
"Exactly right," Anne said, smiling and pressing a light kiss to Hermione's cheek.
"Tartar Methen never went to school, but he learned magic from a wandering wizard. After that wizard died, Tata naturally inherited his wand. But his magical knowledge was self-taught, patchy, incomplete. Trained wizards learn through a structured, unified system. So, you could say he's half a Squib, he can do magic, but there are many things he has no idea can even be done with it."
"Because he never studied, he couldn't find work at any normal shop in Diagon Alley. He grew up in Knockturn Alley instead. But he does have one advantage, an excellent memory. That's why someone recommended him to me."
"Then why didn't you let him join?" Harry asked.
"That brings us back to what I asked earlier," Anne said, her expression turning strange. "You all know about the hunting squads that are roaming the wizarding world right now, don't you?"
All three nodded.
"There are the Ministry's official squads," Anne continued, "and then plenty of self-organized ones. They're not only hunting you, Harry, they're also tracking down runaway Muggle-born witches and wizards. Every time one of them is captured and turned in, the Ministry pays fifty Galleons. That's a lot of money. And Tata joined one of those squads early on."
"But… he is a Muggle-born wizard!" Ron exclaimed.
"Think about it," Anne said calmly. "In those black-market, gray-area operations, no one's checking your blood status. Poor wizards, outcasts, desperate people, they join for one reason only."
"Money," Hermione murmured.
"Exactly. As long as there's gold to be made, they don't care."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Anne… when you asked earlier whether he was caught voluntarily or not, don't tell me…"
"Yes," Anne said grimly. "From what I found out, he joined two hunting squads, and sold out nearly half the Muggle-borns in them."
Hermione gasped. Harry and Ron's faces twisted in disgust, like they'd just swallowed a fly.
"I…" Harry stammered, lost for words.
"Didn't think people like that existed, did you?" Anne said softly. "Every society is a pyramid. The base is always the largest. Where there's light, there's shadow. People like Tartar Methen live in that shadow. What he did broke the unspoken rules of the black market, though, I'd guess someone set him up to be caught this time."
"There are rules in the black market?" Ron exclaimed.
"Of course there are. Anywhere there's profit or power, there are rules," Anne said with a shrug. "Otherwise how could anyone do business, or trade information?"
"Tata wasn't stupid. After two betrayals, he should've hidden himself away. My guess is he got caught while trying to run. Someone wanted him sent straight to Azkaban. Tsk… The Ministry's already caught about twenty of his kind, or maybe it's tied to something else entirely. Something doesn't add up. Interesting…"
"Interesting?" Ron yelped. "How is that interesting?"
"In a purely analytical sense," Anne said, eyes gleaming slightly, "if we assume people act as rational economic agents, then their guiding principle is simple, maximize their own benefit. In a free market, like the black market, for example, that principle shapes behavior and drives predictable patterns of exchange. It's—"
She suddenly stopped, realizing she'd slipped into lecture mode. Clearing her throat, she muttered, "Anyway, that's all economic theory. The point is, Harry, you did nothing wrong. Tartar Methen was the kind of man who'd sell his soul for a handful of Galleons. What happened wasn't your fault."
Harry sat there, blinking blankly, then gave a slow nod.
"Ahem." Anne took Hermione's hand and stood up. "I haven't eaten dinner yet. I'll head to the kitchen. You boys carry on."
She tugged Hermione toward the tent's kitchen.
Ron scratched his head. "What did Anne just say? I didn't understand a single word."
"I didn't either," Harry said. "But… she said it wasn't my fault."
"Yeah, that part I caught," Ron said. He paused, then added, "Now I finally get why Dumbledore made Anne the head of the Order."
In the kitchen, Anne's stomach growled. She spotted a box of instant noodles in the cupboard and grabbed two packs.
"Hermione, could you fill half a pot with water?" she asked while tearing open the packaging.
Hermione nodded and lit the stove with her wand.
Anne waited by the pot, holding a bowl with two dry noodle cakes.
"Anne, what you said earlier, that was just to make Harry feel better, right? It's not going to cause much trouble, is it?" Hermione asked, lowering her wand.
Anne placed the oil packet on the pot lid to soften the congealed sauce. "There will be some trouble," she admitted. "I didn't expect Harry to rescue so many at once. Because he did, the Order has to help those people now, they're his responsibility. And once word spreads among our inner circle… well, a few of them will start complaining again. I've told them over and over to stay safe, not to take unnecessary risks, but there are always a few who don't listen."
"Like who?" Hermione asked.
"Hagrid. And Mr. Weasley," Anne said before realizing. "Hermione?"
"I'm just curious," Hermione said quickly. "I won't tell Ron or Harry."
Anne sighed. "Fine. Hagrid listens to Professor McGonagall, if anyone can keep him from doing something reckless, it's her. As for Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley's the best person to rein him in."
"I've already sent them word," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Still, they can both be a bit… stubborn."
"That's exactly what worries me," Anne muttered.
The noodles began to soften. Anne mixed the seasoning into a large bowl, poured in the hot water, and stirred. The savory aroma quickly filled the kitchen.
"Almost done," Anne said, covering the bowl for a moment. After thirty seconds, she lifted the lid, smiled in satisfaction, and took a bite. "Not bad."
She picked up some noodles with her chopsticks and offered them to Hermione. "Try it? It's been ages since I made noodles like this."
Hermione hesitated.
"Wait, it's hot," Anne said, blowing on the noodles, then holding them out again with a playful sparkle in her amber eyes. "Now?"
Hermione opened her mouth slightly and took a bite.
Anne grinned, eyes crinkling with delight. "Good?"
Hermione swallowed and nodded. "Delicious."
Anne beamed, took a big bite herself, then led Hermione to the back of the kitchen. She tapped a red square panel on the lower cabinet with her foot.
"Step back a bit," she warned.
The wooden panel rose smoothly, forming a makeshift counter. Anne set the bowl on it, pulled two high stools from inside, and sat down. Then she reached into one of the shopping bags she'd brought back earlier and pulled out a small watermelon. With a swift slice, she opened it to reveal bright red flesh.
"Summer isn't summer without watermelon," Anne said cheerfully, offering the half-melon to Hermione. "Got it in market."
Hermione smiled, took the spoon, and sat opposite her.
Anne watched expectantly as Hermione scooped out a piece of fruit. Catching Anne's look, Hermione rolled her eyes and fed her a spoonful.
Anne bit into it happily. The sweetness burst across her tongue, and she laughed. "I knew my girlfriend was the best."
Hermione laughed too and gave her another spoonful.
By the time Anne finished her noodles and shared the last of the watermelon, she was happily full.
Outside, Harry had already taken a stool and was keeping watch by the tent.
⚡︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⚡︎
The complete release can be accessed through Patreon.com/Crimson_Lore