“Seeking a pair of the softest woolen socks in the world.
In exchange, I offer three days of usage rights for the Great Hall.
Interested parties, please place the socks in the small wooden box at the foot of the gargoyle by the entrance to the Headmaster’s office.
— Albus Dumbledore.”
As soon as Hagrid finished building the request board, Elaine immediately pinned the very first request they received at the highest and most prominent spot.
“Merlin’s dragon dung…”
“Does it say which three days?”
“My grandmother has incredible handiwork!”
Mason nudged Harry with his shoulder and asked, “How did you convince Headmaster Dumbledore?”
“Just like you said.” Harry wasn’t sure how to describe it.
“We ran into Professor Dumbledore and told him we wanted to help everyone solve their problems.
Elaine even copied down the things you said and showed them to the professor…” Since it was dinner time, even more young wizards had gathered after hearing the news, trying to squeeze in for a look at the request Dumbledore posted.
Feeling uncomfortable being squished, Mason and Harry backed out toward an open corner as they spoke.
“He strongly agreed with your view and said…
things like this often need someone to take the lead.
Then he wrote out a request himself and handed it to us.”
“Simple to look at, hard to pull off.
The criteria depend entirely on the individual.
Looks like Dumbledore is quite the master angler himself,” Mason remarked with a sigh.
He then asked, “What if others want to post requests?
Are there any restrictions?
Also, I remember Elaine saying at lunch that wizards who complete a certain number of requests would get extra rewards…”
“I…
I don’t really remember, haha.” Harry wasn’t short on money, so he naturally hadn’t paid much attention to what Elaine said afterward.
Ron and Elaine stood on either side of the request board.
Compared to the blonde gorilla, Ron was likely experiencing such a spotlighted moment for the very first time in his life, happily answering questions for older female students from other houses.
Seamus had also been pushed out of the crowd.
Overhearing Mason’s question, he offered an explanation: “Professor McGonagall is helping Elaine set up the review standards.
I heard from Cedric that members of the Transfiguration Club will help out too.
In short, don’t even think about posting requests for help with cheating or copying homework—”
“As for rewards, any wizard who completes fifteen requests can claim five Galleons and a badge from Elaine.
After that, every additional request earns an extra Galleon.
Word is, every young wizard who gets a badge can earn ten extra house points for their house during the current school year!”
*Why does it feel like I can already see Miss Know-it-all covered in badges?
Also, I was only practicing magic for a little bit—how on earth did you guys pull together such a massive operation in so little time?*
Amid the chatter, more young wizards flooded into the Great Hall.
A few professors stood reservedly in the distance, heads leaning close together as they conversed in hushed tones.
“I have a pair of self-heating woolen socks!
My grandma gave them to me last Christmas!
Once I win the usage rights to the Hogwarts Great Hall, I’m going to plaster posters of the Weird Sisters everywhere the eye can see!!!”
An unnamed Ravenclaw girl let out a scream and sprinted toward her house common room like a madwoman.
Her outburst served as a divine revelation to other ambitious students.
Whether they wanted to fill the Great Hall with posters or private portraits, redecorate it entirely in Gryffindor common room style, or play “God Save the King” on a loop 360 days a year, everyone rushed back to their dorms, determined to claim the request and force their unique aesthetic tastes upon everyone else.
Professor Snape also began reining in his students, sternly warning them not to ask their elders for help completing requests just to fill the Great Hall with portraits of the Head of House himself.
*Foolish lions.
The truly clever ones are already writing letters!*
As the tide of people shifted in and out, Mason and the other two were finally able to see the area around the request board clearly again. This chapter was taken from novelping(.)com without permission.
Elaine was being supervised by Professor McGonagall and others as they discussed the design of the badges.
Ron was far more unrestricted, surrounded by several heavily made-up older girls who seemed to be asking if they could post purchasing-agent requests on the board.
“Mason, I finally found you!” Elaine had asked Harry to keep an eye out for Mason, but both had been swept away by the crowd.
He wanted Mason to help make some decisions.
“Coming!” Mason jogged over.
“Good evening, Professor McGonagall.
Good evening, seniors.”
“Hello, I’m Cedric Diggory.” The third-year Hufflepuff held out a hand and gave Mason a warm handshake.
“Grace Evans.” Another senior from Slytherin appeared rather cold by comparison.
“Professor McGonagall says the style of the badge should depend directly on the recipient’s house.
That is, if a Gryffindor student earns it, the badge will primarily feature Gryffindor styling…” Elaine said, looking somewhat troubled.
“Isn’t that great?
What do you feel is missing?” Mason spoke the inner thoughts of the other three.
“It’s not prominent enough!
I mean, it’s too modest.
When you pin a badge like that on yourself, who’s even going to notice it?”
*Is being a little modest a crime against you?* Cedric suffered inwardly; they had been arguing about this for quite some time.
Mason clicked his tongue.
Rich kids were indeed hard to please.
After giving it some thought, he turned and asked, “Will you mark the incoming requests?
For instance, if the requester is a Hufflepuff student, can you tell from the request?”
“The parchment given to each house is different,” Grace answered in a flat tone.
“Then that’s easy to solve, though it’ll be a bit more work to craft—color shifting.
The badge’s appearance shouldn’t depend on the recipient, but on the requesters.
Whichever house’s tasks you complete the most, the badge will lean toward that house’s style.”
“When the time comes, Ravenclaws will be wearing badgers on their chests, Hufflepuffs will wear lions, Gryffindors will wear lions, and Slytherins…”
“A brilliant idea!” / “That’s improper!”
Elaine and Professor McGonagall spoke simultaneously.
Elaine thought it would be absolute entertainment, while Professor McGonagall worried that her little lions would all end up wearing Slytherin snake badges on their chests.
What a joke!
Would she not know what her own students were like?
With the little lions’ intelligence, they would never realize that the Slytherins would deliberately post a pile of garbage requests just to ruin their badges and turn them into a laughingstock—the little snakes were never short on money.
Of course, she couldn’t have anticipated that the Gryffindors would generate enough accidental trouble on their own to fill the board.
“Then, Professor McGonagall, what do you think…?” Elaine hadn’t dared to speak up when McGonagall objected earlier, but now he grew anxious.
He didn’t particularly want to go against his own Head of House just yet.
“If you insist.” Professor McGonagall didn’t want to pour cold water on her student’s enthusiasm.
*Ah, well, at worst I’ll just spend more time screening them, and dump any excess workload onto Dumbledore.
Who told him to get me involved in this in the first place?*
In the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore—happily slacking off and trying on socks—suddenly shivered, feeling as though a strange burden had just landed squarely on his shoulders.
Seven requests from across the four houses were rapidly reviewed and approved by the five of them.
Professor McGonagall summoned a dizzy Ron and had him pin the requests onto the board.
[Seeking a 1966 Fisher Brothers limited edition Gobstone set.
I can trade two of the newest sets for it!] — Zacharias Smith.
[The water pressure in the second-floor bathroom pipe is terrifyingly high.
[The smell in the Owlery is terrible.
My owl stinks because of it.
Any perfume recommendations?] — Daphne Greengrass.
[Wizard’s Chess Club endgame challenge.
Win three consecutive matches to bypass the application process and join with full benefits.] — Hogwarts Wizard’s Chess Club.
[I’m dying for some Fizzing Whizbees.
Can a third-year or above bring me a pound of them?] — Eddie Carmichael.
[Ten autographed photos of Harry Potter, tradeable for a Lockhart photo album/portrait.] — Penelope Clearwater.
[Not-so-dangerous magical creature hatchling needs care.
Reward can be chosen at my hut.
(McGonagall’s PS: Care of Magical Creatures O.W.L.
certificate required.)] — Rubeus Hagrid.
Everyone present turned to look at Harry at the same time, as if looking at a class enemy.
In the end, Mason took ten autographs and, under Percy Weasley’s hawk-like, thief-spotting gaze, traded them to Penelope Clearwater for a copy of *Witches Weekly: Most Charming Smile – Lockhart Special Edition*, which even included three bonus close-up, perfect-angle snapshots.
“I didn’t expect you to like Lockhart too, junior!
These three photos are yours to keep~” Penelope gave Mason an encouraging look, grabbed the autographs, and dashed off to her group of girlfriends.
It seemed another trade was in the works.
Mason obviously wasn’t a fan, but that didn’t stop him from evaluating Lockhart’s commercial value.
He knew that next year, Professor Lockhart would take over the position from the unlucky Quirrell and come to Hogwarts to teach.
If he collected a bit more Lockhart material now and leaked news of the new professor at the end of the term, couldn’t he sell these already rare photo albums for a handsome price?
It felt a little unethical, though.
Besides, when Lockhart’s reputation crashed next year, there might be a reckoning.
Better to wait for the holidays and resell them to the middle-aged ladies in Diagon Alley.
“I heard…
you got the photo album from Penelope?”
Hermione was clutching a book so thick it could serve as a chest plate.
She crept up next to Mason, asking with a trace of anxiety.
*Almost forgot, Miss Know-it-all is one of his fanatical fans too.*
*Wait, no, she shouldn’t be fully obsessed with Lockhart yet—at most she’s read one or two of his books.*
“Want to buy it?” Mason could read plenty of internal conflict in the little beaver’s eyes.
If this were the Hermione from the start of second year in the original story, she would already be pulling out her wallet.
“No need to be so distant.
I don’t make money off people I know.
If you want to see it, feel free.
These three photos were freebies anyway—take them if you want.
Just remember to let me borrow your notes once you’re done writing them.”
This made Miss Know-it-all feel even more embarrassed.
How could a legendary wizard’s merchandise be considered equivalent to her own class notes?
In fact, she temporarily lost interest in the photo album altogether.
A massive commotion suddenly erupted at the entrance of the Great Hall.
Countless young wizards streamed in, surrounding a tiny figure like stars holding up the moon.
At the same time, the request hanging high at the top of the board—the one belonging to Dumbledore—was marked complete.
Completed…
Done…
Finished…
“?!
That fast?!”