Chapter 275: An Accepted Invitation
Not long after, while Sean was busy simmering potions in the dungeons, a literal deluge of mail began to arrive.
Professor Snape watched with a deepening scowl as owl after owl swooped into the gloom, dropping letters onto the workbench. He looked as though he were barely restraining the urge to seize the birds and stuff them all into a boiling cauldron.
The mail was a chaotic mess. First, there was the overwhelming wave of press clippings. The fervour surrounding "Mr. Hermes" had never truly died down; if anything, it had reached a fever pitch now that some lucky wizards had started finding his card in their Chocolate Frogs.
Then came the reports on the Fairy Tale Biscuit series. After the shop had opened its doors twice, journalists had finally confirmed the types of biscuits being sold.
Normally, this wouldn't have caused such a stir, but this time was different. The enchanted noticeboard outside the shop had been updated. In the photographs accompanying the articles, several large words were clearly visible: Cerberus Series coming soon.
The excitement of the wizarding public was enough to nearly topple the shop. Every day, crowds gathered at the entrance, hoping the mysterious alchemist would change his mind and release a few public invitations.
The allure of a Three-Headed Dog needed no explanation. More importantly, the shop demonstrated undeniable potential. If he could create a Cerberus biscuit, why not a Thunderbird?
If there were Thunderbirds, why not Wampus Cats, Occamys, or even Phoenixes?
The mere thought was enough to make any wizard's blood boil with anticipation.
Consequently, even though the shop only opened once a month, there was a permanent crowd outside the door. Its agent, Quirrell, spent his days studying the Dark Arts and Defense Against the Dark Arts, occasionally tossing out any "dunderheads" who attempted to break in and contacting the Ministry to ensure they were sent straight to Azkaban.
In truth, wizards were always fond of seeking such "shortcuts."
Back when the Philosopher's Stone was being guarded, two or three wizards a week had tried to steal it, only to vanish without a trace. This served as a subtle reminder: those at the pinnacle of the wizarding world always possessed formidable personal power.
In this world, there was little political "authority" that wasn't backed by raw magical superiority. Magic, in its purest form, was power.
Following the tidal wave of news reports was a single, private letter:
Dear Mr. Green,
Following your approval, an invitation has been delivered to the Chocolate Frog Card Committee. The Fairy Tale Workshop will open for business tomorrow.
—Yours faithfully, Quirrell.
The Chocolate Frog Committee had requested to purchase an invitation for a hundred Galleons during their last meeting. Sean had a fair idea of what they intended to do with it, and he hadn't raised any objections.
After that came letters from Ron, Harry, and the others. The group from the Room of Requirement—or "The Room of Hope" as they called their little circle—wanted to head to Diagon Alley in two days to buy their school books. Each of them had written to ask if Sean would be free to join.
As Sean was drafting his replies, an owl fluttered toward Professor Snape. Snape gave it a cold, sweeping glance before untying the invitation from the bird's leg.
By then, Sean's cauldron had already cooled. He began packing a multitude of crystal phials into a velvet-lined box. While Sean could brew basic potions himself, some of the concoctions Professor Quirrell required were far from simple; usually, Quirrell had to source those from the darker corners of Knockturn Alley.
July passed in a blur of thunderstorms.
Sean had gradually mastered his Animagus form, and his proficiency in Soul Transfiguration had officially reached the [Entry] level.
On the day the storms finally broke, the Fairy Tale Workshop was set to open.
The entire British wizarding community was in a state of agitation, everyone hoping they might be the lucky recipient of an invitation.
By now, invitations were being traded on the black market for astronomical prices—sometimes upwards of a hundred Galleons. Unfortunately for the speculators, the invitations carried a unique charm; a purchased invitation simply would not work for anyone other than the intended recipient.
This hadn't been discovered through official channels, of course. It was found out when an elderly wizard passed away, and his son was barred at the door despite holding the card.
The Daily Prophet was running a massive feature on the incident, pushing the news of Gilderoy Lockhart's upcoming book-signing event into a small corner of the back page.
After all, who cared about a book signing when an "exclusive interview" with Mr. Hermes had just been released?
As if to drum up even more hype, the Chocolate Frog Committee released their exclusive interview in the second week after launching the new card. Simultaneously, they dropped a bombshell: one "Hermes Card" had a hidden Fairy Tale Workshop invitation attached to the back of it.
This revelation caused the crowds in Diagon Alley to triple in size. Wizards were even flocking in from other countries just for a chance at the card.
Sean remained indifferent to the chaos of the outside world. He looked at the gloomy figure beside him, feeling a slight sense of surprise.
The Professor was actually going with him.
"Have you forgotten? You are still serving your detention," Professor Snape said in a silky, menacing tone. "You had better move quickly—Sean Green—"
He dragged out the name, though the usual crushing pressure was curiously absent.
In the corridors, Sir Cadogan had donned a helmet he hadn't worn in years, obscuring his face from Lady Violet.
Only after the two robed figures—one tall and one short—had vanished did the knight bury his face in his pony's mane, sobbing and guzzling wine.
Lady Violet and the Fat Lady watched him, bewildered, as tears and snot streamed down his face.
"My dear ladies, do you see?" the knight blubbered. "Wizardly bravery is of two kinds. There is the bravery of the reckless, and the bravery of those who endure humiliation for a greater burden. Which is the more noble? To this day, the world has found no answer..."
The knight continued to ramble in riddles while downing more wine. Moments later, he tried to challenge a group of painted monks to a duel, claiming they had tried to peek under Miss Sunflower's skirts back in the previous century.
The monks were, of course, known for being rather lecherous—a fact every portrait in Hogwarts knew—but few were as persistent in remembering century-old grudges as Sir Cadogan.
The Fat Lady finally understood why the knight was always in a duel with someone.
Diagon Alley, outside Shop No. 77.
The shop hadn't even opened yet, but a stall selling Chocolate Frogs had been erected right next to it. Dozens of wizards who lacked invitations were lining up, faces full of longing.
Harry and Ron were among them.
They had come with Fred and George. Unlike a certain silent partner who preferred to stay in the shadows, Fred and George ran their business with infectious, daily enthusiasm. They had recently rented a shop in Hogsmeade and were excitedly planning to take Wizard Wheezes global.
Thanks to them, Harry and Ron were able to buy a few extra Chocolate Frogs. Ron was particularly desperate to complete his collection with the "Hermes" card.
Suddenly, the fireplace inside the Fairy Tale Workshop roared to life. The warm, orange lamps flickered on.
Amidst a tense, clamouring atmosphere, the doors opened.
The invited wizards surged inside—they had been anticipating this day since the moment their invitations arrived.
Professor Snape swept into the shop like a gathering storm cloud. The moment he laid eyes on Quirrell, his expression became truly terrifying.
He whipped out his wand, pressing the tip directly against Quirrell's chest.
"Ah... I had hoped you might be smarter," Snape hissed. "Smarter enough to crawl out of Britain and never return."
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