By the time they left the Emerald Workshop, dusk had already fallen.
Sean, Mr. Marle, and the witch Suya finalized the last details of the Magic Hand Mirror. The two-person calling version was the most common; the three-person and four-person versions, meanwhile, were priced at a terrifying premium.
Marle explained it like this:
"Honored Mr. Hermes, it has to be that expensive. If it isn't, how can we show how precious a multi-face mirror is?
Besides—Merlin—this is something you crafted with your own hands…
You don't need to worry. I swear it as a military pledge: in three days, thirty different multi-face models will be snapped up."
He rambled on about things like "celebrity effect" and "scarcity drives value," then enthusiastically started refining the product line.
"The ultra-thin mirror has to cut its weight to half the standard version—five centimeters! Too thick, too thick, that's basically a brick! Would you use a brick?
Enough, my dear Lawrence, stop making trash—are you trying to make our premium customers use a chunk of iron? A whole kilogram?!
And the back pattern—haven't I emphasized this already?!"
Marle rolled up his sleeves and marched straight onto the production line.
He seemed quite familiar with the Emerald Workshop's alchemy apprentices; he directed them effortlessly.
Sean and Professor Tayra simply stood there and watched as he expanded the Magic Hand Mirror product line to an absurd extent.
Magic was even more wondrous than Sean had expected. In just one afternoon, they'd already redesigned the appearance of the mirrors they'd made before.
Now Sean was holding a Niffler-shaped Magic Hand Mirror in his hands.
Its back carried a Niffler's markings, and on top were two soft decorative cat ears.
To Sean, it was basically a phone case.
And it didn't stop at Nifflers. Marle designed a whole range for the girls:
Niffler edition: comes with a fuzzy little pouch for storing trinkets.
Puffer-fish edition: squeeze its chubby belly to open the mirror face.
Unicorn edition: a glowing soft horn decoration, made with diffusing powder and pure white materials.
For male wizards, he designed:
Fire dragon edition: constant temperature; if a non-owner uses it, it heats up automatically.
Pegasus edition: can float in midair on its own.
Phoenix edition: ornate feather reliefs, regal and flamboyant.
Of course, Marle also designed plain models—and "special" ones too: a bat-like "Voldy-bat" version, a Dementor version, a Golden Snitch version…
Suya followed along beside him, wide-eyed, diligently taking notes.
After the massive overhaul to appearance and thickness, Marle set his sights on the display capabilities.
"Honored Mr. Hermes… besides showing the wizard, can it display the surrounding environment outward too?
And if we add something like film—can it record the scene?"
Marle asked, careful and respectful.
"It can," Sean said, thinking: So… a camera function.
"In Merlin's name… we're going to make a killing!" Marle gasped—and dove straight back into the production line.
The already-overworked alchemy apprentices immediately turned pale when they saw him coming again.
"New feature added—every single unit must be fully modified by tomorrow!"
Marle announced.
Dozens of wizards fell silent.
"Mr. Marle, with all due respect, that's impossible!" one wizard protested.
"Double the wages!" Marle waved a hand.
"B-but—modifying three hundred mirrors in less than a day… we'd have to work nonstop…"
The man in a black-and-gray robe sounded much weaker now.
"Double the bonus too!"
Marle added.
"No problem! Mr. Marle!"
The man instantly lit up.
Even apprentices—workshop apprentices—were paid well in the first place.
Now it was doubled.
Sean knew money could be powerful, but he hadn't expected it to be this powerful.
By the time they walked out of the Emerald Workshop, Sean already had sample units for every redesigned version in hand.
"Time's tight, I'm afraid I can't accompany you any further—use this pair of Magic Hand Mirrors to contact me—Merlin, this is so convenient! Ten times better than owls and fireplaces—"
After seeing Sean and Professor Tayra out of the workshop, Marle immediately plunged back into the production line.
He was beaming, muttering over and over, "We're going to make a fortune… a fortune…"
Under the twilight veil, a warm wind stepped lightly across the clouds. At the edge of the setting sun, the young wizard and the old one were wrapped in orange light.
"Marle is a decent merchant," Professor Tayra said. "He has all a merchant's slyness, but he also has a conscience. That's rare."
They were heading for the fireplace as she spoke.
…
On the second day of Easter break, Sean was still busy in the dungeons—apparently being taken away by Professor Tayra a few days ago had irritated Professor Snape.
That day, Snape didn't even return to his office. He stayed cold-faced beside the cauldron, until the thick steam swallowed his features.
Sean brewed potions, thinking he might not be able to make it to Diagon Alley for the launch after all.
He didn't feel disappointed. Instead, he pulled his mind back to the Polyjuice Potion he was making.
Beyond that, he still had to think about how to break the curse on the Resurrection Stone.
In the cauldron, green bubbles rose and burst; outside it, the flames flared and died.
Only when the Polyjuice Potion was finished did Snape impatiently let an owl carrying a letter in.
Sean took the letter from Bai Yi's talons, then stored Bai Yi inside the Wizard's Book—Bai Yi was still chattering, insisting on pecking at Snape's robe.
[Dear Sean:
Diagon Alley has apparently opened another fine new shop. Do you have time to accompany an old bag of bones out for a stroll?
With love,
Grandpa Marcus]
Sean looked up. Professor Snape gave a sharp, uncharitable snort.
So Sean knew Grandpa Marcus's wish was about to be dashed.
Just as he was about to write back, there came a knock at the door.
A few minutes later, Professor McGonagall hauled the young wizard out of the dungeons with no small effort.
"Olivia told me the Magic Hand Mirrors are on sale," McGonagall said gently. "You should be there."
And so Sean met Grandpa Marcus at the Leaky Cauldron.
The Leaky Cauldron was dark and grimy. A few old women sat in the corner sipping sherry from small glasses; one was smoking a long clay pipe. A small man in a tall hat was chatting with the nearly bald bartender, who looked like a shriveled walnut.
Marcus stood right in front of the bartender. He set down his butterbeer, unable to hide his cheer.
"Come here—let me take a good look at the McGonagall family's darling child."
~~~
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