Saturday was a day filled with hope.
First-years whose enthusiasm had not yet been ground down by their studies finally had ample time to explore the castle; upperclassmen tortured day and night by endless homework finally had a chance to sleep in; and those with permission slips to visit Hogsmeade set off early in the morning carrying shopping lists, many clutching a stack of errands accumulated over the past five days.
Led by Chloe Daniels, a Slytherin senior, Mason made his way secretly to the trophy room on the fourth floor, where a highly covert exchange was about to take place.
“Let me double-check.
As of today, I’ve received six love letters, right?” Chloe asked, crossing her arms as she counted.
This was the third time she had asked Mason on the way there.
“That’s right.”
“And that Ravenclaw b-btch…?”
“Five letters.”
“Good.
It was worth beating my chest and promising Maeve that you were a trustworthy junior.
The gathering is just up ahead.
It starts at ten—don’t ask too many questions.” In truth, Mason was holding one more letter destined for Ravenclaw, almost certainly meant for Chloe’s arch-nemesis.
He hadn’t dared mention it, fearing that the senior girl might pull out a quill on the spot and make him write a fake letter just so she could stay ahead of her rival.
Now, one might wonder what Mason had actually done after catching Elaine last night.
It wasn’t as if he had silenced him for good, right?
Let us rewind to a few hours earlier—
“Are you kidding me?” Seeing Mason pulling endless funny faces across from him, Elaine lowered the hand that had been about to raise his wand, caught between tears and laughter.
*That was close.
Was he really going to attack me just now?
Good thing I pretended to crave sweets to test his temp.*
“What else?” Mason yawned, gesturing for Elaine to go first.
“Professor Snape isn’t about to give me a late-night pass.
If I get reported, I’m finished too.
You didn’t even invite me on such a fun night walk—shame on you, we’re growing distant.”
“Want me to bring you along tomorrow night?” Under Elaine’s golden bangs, fine drops of sweat had gathered.
At this distance, his spellcasting speed couldn’t match Mason’s silent, wandless magic.
A real fight would end with him following Draco’s footsteps, who had spent half a day lying in the hospital wing.
Elaine understood the logic of “if you can’t beat them, join them.”
“That’s the plan.
I happen to want to head outside the castle tomorrow night anyway.
Together?” Mason’s original plan had been to stand on a magic shield and slide down from the Gryffindor Tower window like an elevator, having even consulted Hermione to calculate its feasibility.
*(Hermione: “Mason, don’t do anything reckless.”)*
With Elaine’s help, escaping the castle would surely be child’s play.
“Count me out for that.
*Lies!*
Seeing as their goals didn’t conflict, the two reached an agreement.
Thus, the biggest hurdle to performing the Starlight Enchantment ritual on the edge of the Forbidden Forest was resolved.
All that remained was finding the ritual consumables—precious metals or gems—and a marble basin large enough for the task.
Back to the present.
Mason had learned about the fourth-floor exchange from Chloe while delivering his sixth letter.
He planned to bring the higher-value items he had earned as rewards to swap for trinkets, Galleons…
or even Sickles.
As for why he didn’t simply blackmail the loaded Elaine—if Mason did that, their friendship would be over.
Roommates needed to cultivate some goodwill, after all; it was better to shear the sheep steadily and sustainably.
The two arrived at their destination.
Hanging right at the entrance of the trophy room was a pair of tall banners.
Flanking the doorway were ridiculously huge canvases treated with so much special developing potion that the figures on the cloth displayed rich expressions and movements, complete with an exaggerated smiling close-up every four seconds.
[Gilderoy Lockhart All-Wizarding World Fan Club, UK Branch, Hogwarts Chapter]
Mason wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
“Looks like bringing all the rewards the upperclasswomen paid me was the right decision.”
The nickname “Cupid Mason” came from the fact that he had accepted a staggering twenty-seven delivery errands over five days.
Ninety-five percent of them contained love poems, and a third were letters written by witches to wizards.
There could have been even more, but those required the messenger to read the contents aloud—a humiliation even Mason couldn’t bring himself to accept.
Elaine had even taken the liberty of drawing a Cupid on Mason’s four-house-styled “Helpfulness Medal,” further cementing his title as the “Messenger of Love.”
In short, Mason clearly remembered every single Lockhart fangirl who had handed over her reward with tears in her eyes.
For the sake of the Starlight Enchantment, Mason had no choice but to play the profiteer for once.
The young witches hadn’t altered the layout of the trophy room.
They had brought round stools of various heights and blankets, with some even sitting directly on the floor, introducing their small props to passing witches.
They had chosen this location mostly because it was secluded enough—the corridor marked “out of bounds” was only a short distance away.
There were very few young wizards at the exchange—in fact, Mason was the only one.
Adult wizards were equally scarce, save for a turbaned figure standing silently at the far end of the room.
Judging by his frame, it was Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Rumor had it that he carried a heavy, lingering scent of garlic, and the witches present avoided him like the plague.
That was likely why he was standing there brooding in a daze.
Mason didn’t pause.
Bidding Chloe farewell, he headed over to a Hufflepuff first-year witch he had identified as his target.
Hannah Abbott. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
“Mason?” She looked up, first startled, then delighted.
“So you’re a Lockhart fan too!
No wonder you were always the first to take those related errands.”
“Good morning, Hannah.
Remember what you asked me before?” Mason borrowed a stool from nearby, sat next to Hannah, and asked in a low voice.
“You mean Senior Penelope’s special issue?
Are you willing to trade it?!”
“That one’s not for sale yet.”
Mason had asked around to confirm the value of the special Lockhart photo issue Penelope had used to trade for ten signed photos of Harry: a limited edition of two hundred copies, with only the first twenty bearing Lockhart’s personal signature.
Bringing it to the streets of Diagon Alley could easily fetch a hundred Galleons.
Mason had completed thirty-one errands in total.
Completing fifteen had earned him five Gold Galleons and a badge, with every subsequent errand rewarding one Gold Galleon.
Combined with the items received as payment, his personal stash currently held twenty-three Gold Galleons, four Silver Sickles, and ten Bronze Knuts.
Word was that because there were too many delivery errands, a separate section with its own point system would be created starting next week.
Mason had certainly caught the early wave of profits.
“I have quite a few regular issues and signed photos I traded for.
I was hoping you’d take a look.
If I wanted to trade for some small accessories inlaid with gems, who should I talk to?”
“Gems?” Hannah really wanted to say she had a few decent pieces of amethyst, and if Mason was willing to trade that limited-edition special issue, she wouldn’t hesitate for a second.
“That’s hard to say…” Hannah picked through the Lockhart “relics” Mason had brought, quickly singling out a few signed photos and copperplate theater silhouettes that even Mason found impressive—the latter being mini-plays recreating scenes from Lockhart’s books, starring the man himself.
“Altogether, these could get you almost any non-heirloom jewelry from them.
Here, this is the list.
What reward are you offering me?” Hannah’s hand lingered over the items she had picked out, reluctant to let go.
“How about you pick one photo to keep?” Mason tilted his head.
“Deal!” Hannah immediately pulled out her favorite—though not the most expensive—photo, terrified Mason might change his mind.
“The most generous one is that senior over there.
Not the red-haired one—behind her!
The prettier one!”
Guided by Hannah, Mason went over to negotiate.
With almost no effort, he secured a silver tiara inlaid with three-colored gems.
Meanwhile…
Quirinus Quirrell did his best to maintain his trademark fake smile as he accepted a postcard featuring Lockhart’s face from a newly arrived young witch.
Upon learning from her that this exchange would continue for at least five or six weekends, he gritted his teeth and muttered through clenched jaws:
“Damn you, Gilderoy Lockhart!!!”