Warwick's Magical Menagerie looked nothing like it had a month ago. Years of grime had been scoured away; cages were spaced with airy aisles; a faint reed-and-citrus incense kept the place from smelling like a brawl between bird droppings and stall muck. Even before the full "Magical-Creature Pokémon" plan launched, business was visibly brisker.
Seeing Theodore "Theo" Ashbourne, Warwick lit up.
"Theo, you were right—fresh front, clean lines. Customers walk in smiling."
Theo nodded, smiling. "If we're training magical creatures as true partners, the shops must say so the moment people step inside—clean, ordered, welcoming. Not 'barnyard stink,' but 'future teammate.'"
Warwick bobbed his head and, brimming with ideas, unfurled his roadmap.
"I'll sort breeds into companion types—gentle temperament, cute looks—and teach garden care, tank-keeping, even simple cooking.
And a combat class for the scrappy ones—let them use that fire.
Then we'll host monthly Battles and Skill Trials—send notices to the Daily Prophet for coverage.
For breeding, Hufflepuff's network will help—I'll tap old classmates…"
Theo agreed point after point, then exhaled. "I believe you'll make it work, Warwick. But I'll be gone awhile—Hogwarts term."
Warwick blinked, then winced. "Right. Term. A month gone already?" He hesitated, reluctant. "Without you here, I—"
"I'll be back every holiday," Theo said. "And we can owl anytime. I want this to succeed as much as you do."
Warwick's eyes reddened. "Hold on. I've got something for you." He vanished into the back and returned in thick gloves, a small creature cradled in his palm—half-tortoise in shape, its whole body a glowing red, shell inlaid with lucid rubies.
"Fire Crab?" Theo blurted.
Warwick grinned. "Pure bloodline. If Fire Crabs had princes, this one's royal. Nasty temper, not a typical kid's pet—but you speak to creatures. It will adore you." He produced a round leather pouch no bigger than a fist. "Want to try it?"
Theo stared. The shape pricked his memory. "Is this… a 'Poké Ball'?" (an in-shop nickname)
Warwick laughed. "Your sketch, my prototype. Not a Newt Scamander trunk—no way it holds a Peruvian Vipertooth—but it's perfect for raising this little ember."
Theo drew a long breath. The Fire Crab alone was expensive—its shell's gems screamed old-family money—and this creature-pouch was, if anything, pricier. Warwick's gift was… extravagant.
Warwick waved off his thanks. "Nothing compared to what you've given me. Besides, we're friends. You're off to school; let me send you properly."
As the word left him, the System text blurred and re-formed:
[You and the Beast-Taming Master have become Close Friends.]
[Reward: Beast-Breeding Mastery — Creatures you raise are more likely to break through bottlenecks and evolve to higher tiers.]
[Claim now?]
Warmth flickered in Theo's chest. He accepted the gifts with a bow. The pairing made perfect sense: test the Mastery on this Fire Crab—see what breakthroughs simmered beneath those rubies. And soon, with Smooth-Fire, At-Will, there might be synergy.
They parted at the door. Theo tucked the leather "Poké Ball" away and stepped into Ollivanders.
The wandmaker was still knee-deep in ancient wands. For generations the Ollivanders had hoarded odd, cantankerous relics—most too old, too choosy, or too set in their ways to accept modern owners. Research was like extracting secrets from stubborn uncles. But with Seven-Apertures Heart, Theo's fit with almost any wand—even the truly ancient—had turned the lock. In a month, Mr Ollivander's breakthroughs had stacked, and even without wielding the Elder Wand himself, he now felt confident he wasn't behind Gregorovitch anymore.
Which was why the old man's reluctance hit hard when Theo mentioned term. For a heartbeat he looked ready to hire the world—alchemists, potioneers, private tutors—to keep Theo in Diagon Alley. He swallowed it. In their world, a wizard who skipped school wasn't whole.
"I must send you with something," he muttered, pacing. "Not a wand—you already have your staff… ah." He rifled a drawer and pressed a signet seal into Theo's hands—Ollivander etched deep. "Theo, you've outpaced every apprentice I ever imagined. Hogwarts is a fine sea, but there's an ocean outside. If you need to reach any master—an alchemist like Nicolas Flamel, a potioneer like Horace Slughorn, or any of the grand names—stamp their envelope with this. They'll indulge an old man and answer you properly."
Theo's throat tightened. The weight of it wasn't metal—it was centuries of Ollivander credit. He bowed and tucked it away like a relic.
"I'll use it well. And I'll help surpass the Elder Wand."
Ollivander's smile warmed the room.
The System chimed again:
[You and the Forge Sect Master have become Close Friends.]
[Reward: Smooth-Fire, At-Will — Perfect command of flame; feel and shape the subtlest gradients of heat. Fire is your companion, ready at a thought.]
[Claim now?]
Heart kicking up, Theo slipped into the small workroom Ollivander had set aside for him. He drew a breath and whispered:
"Beast-Breeding Mastery. Smooth-Fire, At-Will. Claim both."
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