Chapter 40: Halloween at The Three Broomsticks
Young wizards didn't dress as ghosts to ask for sweets, and the festive atmosphere in Hogsmeade was not particularly lively much less so than at Hogwarts. Aside from a box of candies placed outside Honeydukes for anyone to take, only a few carved pumpkins hinted that it was Halloween.
As dusk approached, the sky darkened. While the regular shops were quiet, their clerks hunched over their counters, counting down the minutes until closing, the pub gradually began to fill with people.
"Scotland should've won the last Quidditch World Cup!"
"Have you been stunned by dragon dung? Canada won fair and square!"
"We were leading by 120 points! It's obvious we were stronger "
A group of middle-aged wizards crowded around the bar. What began as a simple debate quickly turned into a shouting match. Polite conversation dissolved into crude insults. Faces flushed with drink and fury, the wizards hurled curses and nearly came to blows, their hands twitching for their wands.
Some, though drunk, managed to keep their composure showing off their spellwork as they watched the hostess mix drinks behind the bar, hoping to earn her favor.
"Their Seeker caught the Snitch! They're the champions, end of story!"
"That's because Lamont's fingers are too short! He was just an inch away!"
"And whose fault is that his parents'?"
"…"
Madam Rosmerta's silver ladle floated serenely above the copper kettle. After decades of running the tavern, she'd seen this exact scene a thousand times and was unfazed.
The butterbeer fizzed with delicate bubbles, carrying notes of salt and cinnamon. The bitterness of the beer balanced perfectly with the buttery aroma, and the faint yeasty scent cut through the richness creating a blend of savory sweetness with a soft, tart aftertaste.
Melvin took a sip of the foamy drink. If not for the noisy arguments around him, he might have thought the tavern an excellent place for conversation.
As Wright described the technical difficulties in crafting the Memory Mirror words like melting quartz and mixing potions drifting to her ears Melvin's mind had already wandered back to Hogwarts.
She was curious how Miss Granger was getting along with her classmates, whether the sweets from earlier had made a difference, and whether the new students would face the troll directly that night.
Whatever happened, Quirrell luring a troll into the castle would certainly be a spectacle. Pity if she missed it.
Wright truly had terrible timing why did it have to be the night before Halloween?
"…Now I finally understand why the Pensieve is so rare," Wright sighed. "The revealing mist alone costs six hundred Galleons per bottle.
"To ensure image clarity, this prototype Shadow Mirror requires four bottles. Add in the runic engraving on the outer frame, and the cost for a single ten-square-foot mirror comes to three thousand Galleons!"
He spoke slowly, a complex look crossing his face.
As a responsible businessman, his conscience wanted to persuade his client to stop.
As a master craftsman, his creative spirit urged her to invest more.
He watched Melvin's face, searching for a hint of decision but all he saw was mild satisfaction with the butterbeer and faint annoyance at the noise.
"…"
After an internal struggle, morality finally prevailed.
Wright sighed. "Professor Lewynter, this design is far too costly. Based on the desired screen size, the expense could rise into the tens of thousands. Let's consider an alternative."
Melvin blinked, returning from her thoughts. Her gaze fell on the mirror lying on the table, and she nodded. "Let's see the effect first."
It was a single oval sheet of clear, flat quartz, no larger than a serving tray. A small hole, no wider than a finger, had been carved into its upper edge, and a fine network of runes threaded with silver wire lined its border.
Melvin's fingertips brushed the mirror's surface. Smooth and translucent, it pulsed faintly, silver mist swirling within like restless smoke.
Wright raised his wand to his temple, drew out a thin silver strand of memory, and fed it through the opening.
The mist churned, then cleared revealing an image that gradually sharpened: the very scene of The Three Broomsticks they sat in now, rendered so vividly that even the bar patrons' expressions were perfectly captured.
"By anchoring the memory to a single visual frame rather than a full sensory immersion," Wright explained proudly, "the mirror surpasses all known magical image devices."
"The result is… quite remarkable," Melvin murmured, raising her butterbeer for another sip.
She had originally asked Wright to create the magical screen only as a temporary measure. If the wizarding world could adapt Muggle technology, she'd still prefer the Muggle version. But now, seeing the flawless image inside the memory mirror, she realized magical projection might far exceed her expectations.
Moreover, Wright's memory-film design offered a complete upgrade path from flat images to full three-dimensional holography.
Judging by the projection quality, this technology was easily thirty years ahead of anything the Muggle world could achieve. Practically speaking, it also fit better with the wizarding world's current social climate.
Its only flaw was its astronomical cost.
Unfortunately, that flaw was insurmountable.
If only there were a way to earn Galleons quickly, she thought wryly.
I can't exactly go after Voldemort for the Philosopher's Stone, can I?
Melvin drifted deeper into thought, sipping her butterbeer.
"…"
Suddenly, the entire tavern fell silent. The abrupt quiet pulled her out of her reverie.
The wizards who had been trying to impress the hostess stopped talking. The would-be duelists who moments ago had shouted at each other were now sitting shoulder to shoulder. In one corner, an old witch who had been snoring moments ago awoke and ordered a whisky.
Everyone stared toward the bar, as if waiting for something.
Wright noticed her confusion and gestured for her to stay quiet.
Madam Rosmerta bent down and pulled out an old radio from beneath the counter. It wasn't one of Wright's contraband devices it bore the official seal of the Ministry of Magic, clearly a legal product.
"Dear listeners, welcome to the Magical Wireless Union's Halloween Special. Celestina Warbeck sends her warmest greetings to you all and wishes everyone a Happy Halloween. Now, please enjoy the title track from her new album 'You Stole My Pot, But You Can't Have My Heart.'"
A melodious female voice filled the room:
"You stole my pot and fled like a vampire,
You said you loved me, we'd never part
But you stole my pot, not my heart…"
The middle-aged wizards who had been bickering sat quietly, shoulder to shoulder. The old witch closed her eyes and hummed softly along, while Madam Rosmerta's hair swayed gently to the rhythm.
Melvin looked at the silent patrons listening to the song, then down at the mirror in her hands.
"Wright," she said softly, "we'll proceed with this plan."
In this brilliant, magical world
some barren places still desperately needed nourishment.
(End of Chapter)