Soon, Charlen welcomed his first weekend as a professor at Hogwarts.
Expecting him to stay quietly at school was obviously impractical.
In fact, he still had a lot of work to do in the Muggle world.
“Mr.
Mime, I’ll be leaving the reserve in your hands for the next couple of days,” he told several Mr.
Mimes and Audinos before leaving the school.
The Mr.
Mimes acted almost like caretakers for the nature reserve, while the Audinos took on the role of doctors.
The Audinos flicked their cute, large ears, responding to Charlen’s words.
“Excellent.
If you run into any trouble you can’t handle, go find Charizard and the others.” Charlen didn’t plan to take his Pokémon with him on this trip.
The safety of the reserve needed protecting far more than he did.
He hadn’t forgotten that there was still a major trouble residing in the school.
Heaven knew if Voldemort would make any unnecessary moves after learning about Pokémon?
After arranging everything, Charlen closed his office door and cast a spell on it.
Even a highly advanced Alohomora would find it difficult to pick the lock in a short time.
Furthermore, if anyone attempted to do so, Charlen would receive an immediate alert.
Of course, with Dumbledore around, the chances of anything happening were slim.
This was merely a safety precaution.
…
The year was 1991.
Although a certain gaming company named Nintendo already existed, the Pokémon IP did not.
Charlen had already come of age this year, so he didn’t have to worry about the Ministry of Magic’s Trace tracking his magic.
In fact, from the moment he had been expelled from Hogwarts, the Trace had ceased to function.
Many people believed that the Ministry’s Trace was bound to the wand, but that wasn’t actually the case.
Before officially starting school, first-year wizards already had their wands but weren’t monitored by the Trace.
Moreover, some young wizards didn’t buy their wands; they inherited them.
For example, both Ron and Neville used secondhand wands.
Of course, the Trace wasn’t really designed for wizards living in the wizarding world anyway.
Charlen didn’t care much about the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, but he wasn’t particularly resistant to it either.
In his view, while wizards couldn’t remain hidden forever, exposing themselves directly was obviously unwise.
Compared to modern firearms, the wizards’ wands and spells didn’t hold much of an advantage.
The terrifying Muggle “upright apes” would obliterate wizards with machine guns.
But magic was magic, after all.
As long as one didn’t get caught, it was incredibly useful.
Charlen had no qualms about casting spells on Muggles; after all, the Ministry of Magic cast Memory Charms on them all the time.
“If nobody saw it, it’s zero calories”—this was Charlen’s survival code.
As long as he wasn’t caught red-handed, it didn’t happen.
Besides, no one would ever dare cast Prior Incantato on his wand anyway.
Armed with the power of magic, starting a company in the Muggle world became an incredibly simple task.
First of all, the issue of funding was easily resolved.
Naturally, Charlen wouldn’t resort to robbery, but he could certainly apply for a bank loan.
After taking a number at the bank, he sat patiently in a chair, waiting.
There were quite a few people there for loans.
“Next, Mr.
Charlen Gold.” Charlen stood up from his seat and walked toward an office.
This scene reminded him of the “chosen Muggle” in *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*.
That plump fellow had also intended to get a bank loan to open a bakery.
Upon entering the room, Charlen saw a man sitting behind a desk reviewing a stack of documents.
He knew this person was conducting an asset assessment on him.
Seeing Charlen enter, the man immediately set the documents aside and gestured for Charlen to take a seat.
“Mr.
Charlen Gold?” “Yes, that’s me.” Charlen nodded.
“You look very young,” the interviewer said immediately after glancing at Charlen.
Charlen had lied slightly on his application, writing that he was twenty-five and worked as a teacher at a vocational welding technical school named Hogwarts.
Seventeen was of age in the wizarding world, but not in the Muggle world.
“I’m sorry, Mr.
Gold, but your application doesn’t state your salary.” “Yes, is there a problem?” Charlen’s salary wasn’t high.
In fact, the salaries of all Hogwarts professors were barely getting by.
“Well, Mr.
Gold, if your income is low, our bank cannot approve a loan for you, let alone the large sum you are requesting.” The bank officer’s tone wasn’t particularly polite.
After all, Charlen hadn’t even filled out his income, which in the officer’s eyes made him practically unemployed.
“Actually, regarding my asset assessment, I’d like you to take a look at this before making a decision.” Charlen opened a box and pulled out a long, slender object.
The bank clerk gasped, thinking Charlen was about to pull a gun out of the box.
He almost pressed the silent alarm.
But he quickly realized that the object Charlen pulled out was not a gun, but a slender wooden stick about the length of a forearm.
He was dumbfounded.
“Is this…
an antique?” The stick did look quite exquisite.
But this was a bank, not a pawnshop; and he was here to apply for a loan, not to offer collateral!
“Sir, if you want a valuation on this…
walking stick, I suggest you consult a professional.
Our bank doesn’t offer such services.” He was already planning to ask Charlen to leave and move on to the next client.
“Don’t be in such a hurry, sir.
Look here.” Charlen flicked his wand.
The tip lit up, successfully catching the other man’s attention.
“*Confundo*.” The moment the spell was cast, the clerk’s eyes grew unfocused, and he became utterly dazed.
“Sir, do you remember?
I am a premier client of your bank.” Charlen waved his wand, and the clerk’s eyes swayed back and forth like a pendulum, following its movement.
“Yes, you are a premier client…” “So, the loan—” “Of course, it’s approved.
I believe we can grant you a high credit line and a low interest rate.” The man’s gaze remained locked on Charlen’s wand, but his hand reached into a drawer, pulled out a contract, and signed his name on it.
Charlen didn’t pick up a pen, yet his signature automatically appeared on the contract.
The clerk seemed completely blind to this magical sight.
Signing and stamping were completed in one smooth motion.
As Charlen walked out with the paperwork, he didn’t forget to modify the clerk’s memory.
Magic was indeed incredibly useful!
A Memory Charm wasn’t foolproof against a true master of magic, but presumably, no master of magic would waste their time investigating a mere Muggle.