Chapter 59: Alliance
"The news of Harry Potter joining the team spread quickly. Taking advantage of the fame of the Boy-Who-Lived, the news about The Three Broomsticks and the Mirror of Memory also spread rapidly. Nearly half of the British wizards had heard of them."
The slightly oily voice of Borgin echoed in the room. "But not all tavern keepers are insightful. Ordinary drinkers and enthusiasts simply join the fun. Wright and I counted on the way here and found about 19 buyers interested in the Mirror of Memory. One of them is Old Will of West Overton..."
Borgin and Burke's, in Knockturn Alley, is famous. Anyone seeking novelties like the Mirror of Memory, which cannot be obtained through usual channels, turns to Borgin.
Some perceptive wizards, aware of the reputation of the Monks-Tully family, had also approached the repair shop a few blocks away. Wright added a few more names after Borgin finished speaking.
"Ada of Godric..."
"Alfie of Dingworth..."
"One-Eyed Jack of Upper Flagley..."
The British wizarding world is so small that established magical families are almost always related. Even the pure and ever-victorious Malfoys share blood ties with the Weasleys, the disgrace of the pure-bloods.
Monk Stanley and Borgin had their own acquaintances, each with their own prejudices when presenting lists of clients. With ordinary customers, they simply mentioned their names and where they were from. With close acquaintances, they detailed the client, earning the sympathy of their supplier, Lewynte.
Melvin listened silently to the introductions of the two intermediaries' clients, quietly evaluating their backgrounds and selecting some special, high-quality customers.
The witch of Godric, Ada, runs the tavern The Golden Snitch. They brew their own beer, passed down from generation to generation, and the nearby villagers love it...
These were the regular customers.
Old Will, from West Overton, was an auror. He went mad alongside Mad-Eye Moody during the Last Wizarding War, and a Death Eater blew off his arm. He always felt itching and pain on rainy days and could only rely on whiskey for relief. After retiring, he opened a pub specializing in liquors. At first, only his fellow aurors supported the business, but over time many wizards came to drink there. Many of the drinkers' relatives had been killed by Death Eaters and were grateful to Harry Potter. There were also some Quidditch fans. When they heard that The Three Broomsticks was broadcasting a Hogwarts match, Old Will took the drinkers to Hogsmeade, closing his shop for a week. Rosmerta almost thought he was there to steal her recipe.
This person had auror experience and was a high-quality client.
"Alfie, from Dingworth, is a talkative man. He was a commentator for the Quidditch World Cup. During the final of 1986, he scolded the West German national team in the commentary box for accepting bribes and fixing matches in the last round of the group stage. After the match, the Tournament Committee asked them to publicly apologize in the newspaper. Alfie has a hot temper. Outwardly, he said he wanted to apologize, but in front of the reporters, he berated several officials from the Department of Sports and the Tournament Committee..."
"Alfie eventually resigned of his own accord and returned to his hometown to open a Quidditch club. Normally, retired players and referees hang out there. Last week, he went to watch a match at The Three Broomsticks. When paying for drinks, he directly handed over several thousand galleons to Mrs. Rosmerta, saying he wanted to buy the shadow mirror." In the end, Malcolm mistook him for a drunkard and threw him out.
This one had professional experience and was also a high-level client.
"One-Eyed Jack, from Upper Flagley, used to be a Quidditch match photographer. It was during the 1986 Quidditch World Cup. To get the most exciting shots, he got too close to the field, and a bludger hit him in the eye. After retiring, he founded a magazine dedicated to reporting Quidditch news and publishing articles about the sport. However, he was too professional, and his sales were not as good as others who sang in another language. He went bankrupt within two years.
"The magazine office has since been transformed into a bar, a bar for intellectuals. The clients are basically people from publishing houses. Editors and journalists have the same bad habits. They either always say baseless things or talk too much." It all sounds impressive, but thinking it over, well, in reality, he said nothing. Alfie resigned because he insulted Ministry officials, but they claimed it was exposing Quidditch corruption and he was ostracized...
Melvin's eyes lit up. This Jack was even more professional. His mind must be full of wonderful scenes.
"Ah, and there are some pure-blood wizards. They don't buy it for their business, but simply to display it in their mansions. Pure-blood families are like that. I won't mention their names,"
said Wright, his mouth dry as he took a sip of beer.
Old Tom and Borgin, both pure-blood, smiled awkwardly. Borgin cleared his throat, looking somewhat uneasy. "Lastly, there's Knockturn Alley. It's home to a group of wizards who prefer not to be seen. Some are Quidditch enthusiasts, others are fans of Harry Potter. They usually hide underground in Knockturn Alley, and in their free time, they enjoy a few drinks to relax... In short, we also need a mirror."
Melvin paused. Knockturn Alley was a complex place, and since they were channel partners, they were considered high-quality clients.
After listening to the other buyers, Old Tom compared himself with them and suddenly realized he had no competitive advantage. He quickly said: "The Leaky Cauldron is willing to cooperate with the school. If you have a Mirror of Memory like The Three Broomsticks, I'll give part of the profits to the school football team, plus a commission for teaching you."
"Just like The Three Broomsticks..."
Melvin looked at him sadly. "The Mirror of Memory doesn't cost money. I provide the content for free. The pub only provides the venue, and there's no operational risk. It's an almost cost-free deal. Anyone would be willing to buy it."
Old Tom scratched his head and smiled shyly, the scene somewhat ghastly.
"The Mirror of Memory costs thirty thousand galleons. How much will your pub earn? A few hundred galleons a month, and it will take more than a decade to recover the investment..." Melvin briefly explained the situation and concluded: "The Three Broomsticks is a unique example of how to promote the Mirror of Memory." Other pubs joining the competition won't charge the same price.
Old Tom and Borgin nodded thoughtfully, without skepticism. Similar memory-display products exist on the market, costing tens of thousands. Both are businessmen and understood that such a loss-making venture is unpopular.
Only Wright blinked subtly.
Thirty thousand galleons? How did he not know this? The last time a large-scale mirror was made, it cost nearly ten thousand, mainly due to R&D and trial production costs. Even counting these, it was only nine thousand galleons. How could Melvin so casually say thirty thousand galleons?
No matter, thirty thousand is thirty thousand. Wright, who didn't understand business, drank his beer in silence.
As a veteran businessman of Knockturn Alley, Borgin vaguely sensed that the young professor wouldn't sell according to price: "Professor, what do you mean?"
"The Mirror of Memory can be sold at a discount. The price is thirty thousand, and you can get a 70% discount. The image content can be negotiated separately, and we guarantee you a favorable price."
Thirty thousand with a 70% discount... a direct saving of twenty thousand!
Old Tom downed his whole glass of beer, stunned by the surprising price.
"But there are conditions."
"What conditions? Professor, tell me!"
"The tavern owners who buy the Mirror of Memory must join our Magical Mirror Club."
Without waiting for their questions, Melvin began explaining: "This club was founded by Wright and me. It mainly handles the production and review of cinematic content. Later members must comply with the relevant rules and cooperate with us in developing and producing more interesting cinematic content."
Old Tom and Borgin looked at Wright.
Wright remained silent, drinking his beer.
Don't look, don't ask; he had just learned the news himself.
Old Tom had drunk too much beer that night, and his mind was unclear: "Professor, I still don't understand it very well. Can you specifically tell me what this club does?"
Melvin did not lose patience and explained calmly: "The Mirror of Memory, the Mirror of Memory, is a magical mirror that can replay memory images. Not only the memories I provided you, but also yours. Old Tom, you've also heard the identities of those people. They must have memories of previous Quidditch World Cups, even exclusive perspectives and expert revelations. They can also analyze the match situation by replaying the images..."
Melvin turned his gaze toward Borgin: "And you, Borgin, Knockturn Alley is often frequented by traveling merchants from various countries. They have a presence worldwide. They can undoubtedly obtain memories of other Quidditch events, group-stage matches of the World Cup, intercontinental matches, routine training games of several teams, and even house matches from other schools of magic..."
As the three listened to the calm words of the young professor, a door seemed to slowly open before their eyes, revealing a vaster world.
"I know you, Old Tom, don't care about business, but surely you want to see those thrilling matches with your own eyes," said Melvin, guiding them like a good and patient teacher, imagining a bright future. "Join our club, and together we will collect the best Quidditch matches from around the world, centralize resources, and produce content. Time and space will not limit viewing. You'll be able to watch matches from Hogwarts, the Chudley Cannons, the Armenian National Youth Team, and more without leaving home..."
Old Tom, unknowingly, finished another beer, set the glass on the table, and shouted: "The Leaky Cauldron wants to join!"
Borgin sensed the promising business opportunity and quickly agreed.
The only one left at the table was the workshop owner, who drank silently.
Wright looked up, meeting their gazes, speechless. "Why are you looking at me? I can't agree to this on behalf of those tavern keepers. At most, I can tell them about tonight's conversation, but that won't happen until after Christmas, when some are traveling abroad."
After a brief discussion, the four reached an agreement.
Old Tom and Borgin were beaming with joy over the 70% discount they had received. Although Wright still had to return to deliver the news, he had already earned two substantial commissions, with the potential for even more in the future.
Only the young professor Levent sacrificed his own interests for the good of the wizarding world; that was truly admirable.
Everyone had a bright future.
"...Well then. Interested customers can schedule an appointment with me this weekend." Melvin put down his glass and stood up. "That's all for today. I'm heading back to the school."
"Professor, I'll escort you there..." Old Tom stood and followed him.
Wright and Borgin watched the two men walk away, averting their eyes as if to say something, only to realize that Melvin's beer was still untouched while theirs was almost gone.
Remembering what they had heard upon entering the house, they exchanged glances and kept quiet.
...
The Christmas holidays were slowly coming to an end.
The wizards and witches who had been on vacation returned home, preparing for a new year of work and study. Magical communities throughout Britain were thriving again, and taverns were reopening.
At nightfall, two figures emerged from the alleys of Hogsmeade. Malcolm and Tucklot walked side by side, trading jokes and recalling their Christmas adventures. Passersby remained silent, eyes fixed on them, hearts full of awe.
But soon, the familiar argument once again echoed through the streets.
That a Seeker can catch the Snitch has nothing to do with finger length. Harry Potter's victory proves it! Lamont lost because of his poor skill! Don't blame his teammates! Don't blame his parents!"
"How can it be the same? One is a college tournament, the other is the World Cup!"
"What's the difference? He has shorter fingers than Lamont, yet he still won!"
"How can it be the same? It's Harry Potter!"
"So what?!"
"He beat that guy in his cradle!"
"..."
Seeing the two men start pushing each other, passersby sighed in relief. These were familiar sounds, familiar movements. All the neighbors had returned before Christmas.
Hearing the two men quarrel, they headed to The Three Broomsticks, where the residents suddenly noticed that the pub had a new sign. A year-old poster was stuck in the window, showing Lamont, lively and flying on a broom. Below was the headline:
Scotland vs. Canada: The Final Battle of 1990!
...
20:00.
Charing Cross, Westminster, London, seemed somewhat deserted from the outside, but upon entering the Leaky Cauldron, a pulsating roar of activity immediately filled the air.
Frenzied fans crowded before the Silver Mirror, and each goal triggered deafening cheers. Old Tom squeezed into the front row to watch the match, cheering along with the other customers, while several of the Abbott nephews busied themselves with their flasks.
"..."
The auror Kingsley Shacklebolt remained silent in a corner at the edge of the counter, a position from which he could discreetly observe the action while maintaining a commanding view.
He was a regular customer of the pub, and the clerk, recognizing the tall, dark-skinned, bald auror, offered him his butterbeer and made some mocking remarks about ending his holidays so early.
Shacklebolt smiled helplessly, saying he didn't want to work either.
Hearing the wizard's deep, drawn-out voice, the slightly irritated clerk, burdened by the tight schedule, calmed down and offered him an extra portion of fish and chips.
Shacklebolt leaned on the counter, watching the clerk walk away and contemplating the scene.
He still had a few days of vacation left and didn't want to return to work so soon, as he had accumulated enough time off over the years. However, his duties were extremely special. While the Ministry of Magic had holidays, 10 Downing Street required him to arrive early.
At the Ministry, he was captain of the Second Auror Brigade in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. At the Muggle Prime Minister's Office, he was an undersecretary, about to be promoted.
Shacklebolt's gaze swept across the image shown by the Silver Mirror, his expression calm.
The Mirror of Memory seemed like a magical modification of a Muggle television. If Headmistress Umbridge ever found out, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would be busy again...
(End of chapter)