As the undisputed kings of Hogwarts' back passages, the Weasley twins knew every secret tunnel inside out and had delved deeper than anyone into all the "unorthodox" tricks the castle had to offer.
They really had pointed Lynn toward a golden opportunity. There were plenty of ways to make money; it just took a little time to get the ball rolling.
The twins had solid connections in Hogsmeade. Being the kind of penny-pinching geniuses who could stretch one Knut until it screamed, they'd long ago tracked down places where they could buy their experimental materials at heavy discounts.
The Hog's Head pub was exactly the sort of place where shady dealers went to move black-market goods. Those people didn't just sell; they bought, too.
That was the easiest, most convenient money-making route the twins had access to. The only catch? To turn a profit off those old crooks, you needed real skill (something impressive, like a knack for brewing potions).
Don't let Snape's status as a legitimate Potions Master fool you. The number of students who actually learned anything worthwhile from him in class was depressingly small. Out of more than a hundred students per year, fewer than fifteen percent made it into his sixth-year N.E.W.T.-level Potions class. And once they graduated? Unless their job involved brewing, most forgot everything they'd learned within two or three years.
Paradoxically, their school years were when young witches and wizards were at their most knowledgeable and versatile.
The problem was that any potion brewed in Snape's classroom got confiscated, and hardly anyone bothered brewing over the holidays.
In the wizarding world, potions were always in demand and never hard to shift. Selling them through the Hog's Head's back channels was, for Lynn, an excellent option.
"Compound Draught is probably the best seller, but there's no way I'd have time to brew that right now. Living Death is easy enough, though, and Energizing Potion works too. The profit margin's lower, but the demand is huge, it brews fast (about an hour per cauldron), and one cauldron yields five or six bottles. Even at three Sickles' profit per bottle, that's a Galleon per batch. Way better than a Ministry desk job."
Lynn, finally free of the worry that he wouldn't be able to afford a birthday present for Qiu this autumn, felt deeply satisfied. Once back in the dormitory, he shut the door, walked to his bed, and pulled out his four-dimensional pocket.
The little cloth pouch was ridiculously durable. There wasn't a single sign of wear, and it was insanely stretchy. Anything he could physically lift, he could stuff inside.
Judging by the date, it was about time for the pocket's magical items to refresh. Lynn opened it with practiced ease, stuck his head in, and slipped his whole body through. The pocket itself vanished from the air the moment he entered; it would only reappear once he climbed back out.
Inside was a realm of murky darkness, yet not so dark that he couldn't see. It felt like stepping into a brightly lit room with all the curtains drawn: dim, but navigable.
He had no idea how big the space actually was. He'd tried exploring once, walking for ages without reaching an edge. The moment he turned around to head back, his very next step brought him straight to the entrance.
Near the entrance he had set up several shelves. On them sat every magical gadget he'd collected so far; at least half were Bamboo Copters, which made the whole display look embarrassingly meager.
"Please, anything but another Bamboo Copter this time…"
Lynn swept his gaze around. New items weren't hard to locate. Despite the pocket's vastness, some kind of instinct always guided him straight to whatever had just spawned.
With a quiet prayer, he lifted himself lightly into the air with telekinesis and whooshed forward.
Less than thirty seconds later, vivid colors appeared in the gloom ahead. He reached out and snatched the floating objects right out of the air.
"Nice! Two at once!"
When he saw the first item (something that looked exactly like a flashlight), his eyes went wide.
"Could it be… could it really be the legendary Shrink— Nope, not getting my hopes up."
His excitement lasted all of one second before he ruthlessly squashed it.
"A Shrinking Lamp would never be that easy to pull. Anything's fine as long as it's not another Bamboo Copter."
The instant he touched an item, its name and effects popped into his head like a complete instruction manual. No Identify spell required.
The flashlight-looking thing turned out to be a Fantasy Lamp: a gadget that could project whatever scene you imagined onto any surface using light. Nobita had once used it to prank Doraemon by projecting a giant rat.
The second item was… honestly kind of pathetic.
When Lynn first grabbed it, he genuinely had no idea what it was supposed to do.
Taste-Sharing Chewing Gum. Break the bar and give pieces to different people; whoever chewed the first piece would share the taste of whatever food the others ate afterward. Effect lasted 24 hours.
If you were on a diet, you could theoretically use it to enjoy gourmet flavors without calories.
"If I chewed a piece and then tried tasting some girl's lip balm… would that technically count as getting a free sample…?" A sly grin spread across his face. "Huh. Suddenly it doesn't seem so useless."
He looked at the already-opened pack (only half a box left) and gave himself a mental thumbs-up for his own brilliance. If he ever met a tragically devoted simp who could never win his crush's affection, he could snap off a piece for the guy, slip another to the girl's boyfriend, and (if luck was really on his side) maybe the poor sod would finally know what "seafood" tasted like. Who knows, it might even make him try harder next time.
"What a clever, charitable soul I am!"
Lynn congratulated himself so hard he almost felt the urge to go hunt down a willing lickspittle right that second.
"But why is one pack already opened and snapped in half?"
"Shame."
He pocketed the opened piece separately, then placed both new items on the shelf. Once picked up, gadgets never vanished again.
When he climbed back out of the pocket, the dormitory was still empty. His dorm mates were probably off tearing around somewhere. First weekend after term started; there was plenty to do.
"Guess I'll swing by Hagrid's, ask where I can pick some Grasshoppers and Bounce-Shrooms. Those two are common and I'll need a lot. Buying them feels like such a waste."
Short on cash, Lynn had no intention of spending Harley's money. If he could earn his own, he would. He'd always managed on his own before.
"Oh, right. I still need to give Hagrid that hot-pot recipe."
He walked to the little desk, fished a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket, spread it out, and started scribbling quickly with a quill. As he did, the half-wrapped piece of Taste-Sharing Gum slipped out and landed on the arm of a nearby armchair, unnoticed.
Parchment folded and tucked away, Lynn left the dorm in high spirits. He hurried down from the Room of Requirement and made for Hagrid's hut at the edge of the lawn.
Not long after he'd gone, the dormitory door opened again. Ron came in, flushed and beaming, still smacking his lips as he relived the sweet taste of victory. He'd spent the morning crushing everyone at wizard chess and had been so pleased with himself that he'd scarfed down two extra chicken legs at lunch. Now pleasantly stuffed, all he wanted was a nice long nap. Once he woke up, Ron Weasley, Gryffindor's undefeated Chess King, would ride again.
"What's this?"
As he flopped onto his bed, Ron spotted the half-piece of gum sitting on the armchair. He'd never seen anything like it and picked it up curiously. The wrapper was in English; he could read that much.
"Some new flavor of sweet?"
He examined it for a while, then grinned. "Today really is my lucky day!"
"Here, you can have some too."
Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a grubby, fat rat. Despite all the complaints he aimed at Scabbers, he did care about the old thing; whether rats could chew gum, however, had never crossed his mind.
He peeled the wrapper in two seconds and popped the whole piece into his mouth.
He chewed.
And chewed.
And chewed.
…Absolutely no flavor.
His good mood instantly soured.
"No wonder someone threw half of it away. Tastes like rubbish. Blech~"
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