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Chapter 208 - Chapter 208 – Phineas’s Plans for the Future

Chapter 208 – Phineas's Plans for the Future

Card games had one clear advantage: they could generate income. In the magical world, where entertainment was scarce, young wizards would easily be drawn in. After all, aside from wizard chess, Gobstones—rarely played—and Quidditch, which everyone loved, there wasn't much else to do.

Still, the things young wizards enjoyed didn't necessarily appeal to adults. Muggle-borns, half-bloods, and even some pure-bloods who weren't from prominent families usually didn't have the time or interest to play games after graduating. Life became about work, family, and responsibilities—leaving little room for hobbies.

Wizards from powerful families had their own burdens. After graduation, they were expected to take over family businesses, build alliances, and engage in the endless dance of politics—juggling connections with the Ministry of Magic, Wizengamot, the Elder Council, and other influential groups.

That's why Phineas thought a game like Warhammer would be more viable.

In his concept, heroes and soldiers would still be population-based, but races and factions would be drawn from the magical world. Heroes would be modeled on legendary witches and wizards. There would also be customization options available for those who could afford them.

Thanks to magic, the game pieces could simulate real characteristics. For example, a noseless figure modeled after a Dark wizard might carry the immortality trait of a Horcrux.

Phineas believed this sort of game would offer more than card games. Why? Because in the magical world, many family interactions and alliances had historically been centered around power dynamics. When heads of families negotiated, they'd instinctively measure one another's strength—and think about what might happen if war broke out.

That's where the chess pieces came in: a way to simulate war. Organizations like the Ministry could use the models to rehearse battles or simulate diplomatic decisions.

Young wizards, in turn, could use them to understand family legacy, political entanglements, and the complex web of power in the magical world.

In Phineas's past life, miniature gaming pieces like this had also become collectible art—something he hoped to replicate. With customization, players could design not just appearance, but also effects and abilities. Of course, these would cost significantly more.

For instance, if Sirius wanted a custom piece based on himself, he'd have to pay a hefty price. Even a basic hero-model version would be expensive, but if he wanted it to replicate Animagus abilities, that would require an additional fee.

Alternatively, players could buy pieces with special skills without customizing the look.

Phineas also planned to sell rare pieces in a system similar to trading cards. Some would be available only in blind boxes, while others could be purchased individually.

Unlike Warhammer in his previous life, Phineas didn't plan to sell fixed faction battle packs. Instead, he intended to use booster packs, while still maintaining a core set of balanced starter pieces.

He snapped back to the present, pushing aside his long-term planning.

After Phineas explained his idea, Fred and George stopped asking about his future. It was one of their unspoken rules: don't pry beyond what a friend willingly shares.

The three of them tidied up the Room of Requirement and left.

Originally, Phineas had planned to sneak into the Hogwarts kitchen over the next couple of days—without alerting the house-elves.

But after last night's party with Fred, George, and Jordan, the entire day had been lost. Phineas hadn't had a moment to put his kitchen plan into motion.

Even though the Christmas break lasted two weeks, Phineas had to be cautious about the timing.

He absolutely couldn't explore the kitchen on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Because of his intervention—specifically rescuing Sirius—Harry wasn't staying at Hogwarts for Christmas as he did in the original timeline. That shift disrupted not only the canon events, but also Dumbledore's plans.

Dumbledore had intended for Harry to discover the Mirror of Erised during the holiday. It was meant to deepen his longing for family and strengthen his resolve against the Dark Lord. That's why he had returned the Invisibility Cloak on Christmas Day. But now, with Harry spending Christmas at a Black family estate, all of that had changed.

Phineas understood this well. He had to remain discreet during the holiday—any disturbance might draw Dumbledore's attention, which was the last thing he needed.

He also wasn't entirely sure that Hufflepuff's relic was connected to the kitchen. If his theory turned out wrong and he wasted too much time, this Christmas break would be lost.

So tonight, he had to try. Even if he couldn't avoid the house-elves, he'd at least make the attempt.

With the help of the Marauder's Map, the trio snuck past patrolling professors and Filch. They made their way from the seventh floor, where the Room of Requirement was, down to the basement level beneath the Great Hall.

This was where the entrance to Hufflepuff's common room was located.

Near a stack of barrels was a painting of a fruit-filled table. Tickling the pear in the picture would make it laugh and transform into a doorknob.

Behind that door was the Hogwarts kitchen.

Directly below the Great Hall, the kitchen mirrored its layout with four long tables positioned exactly like those above. When meals were prepared, the house-elves placed the food on these tables, and magic would transport it to the ones in the hall.

Hundreds of house-elves worked here. Their quarters and resting spaces were tucked away in closets within the kitchen itself.

Even the house-elves responsible for cleaning the student dormitories resided here.

That was one of the reasons Phineas believed Hufflepuff's inheritance might lie in the kitchen. It was more than a place to cook—it was a center of magical tradition.

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Author's Note:

As mentioned, while card games can be profitable, they have limitations. In contrast, a Warhammer-style tabletop simulation game appeals to all age groups and suits the magical world better. So I chose that route.

I don't know everything about Warhammer, so if there are inaccuracies, I appreciate your understanding. I've adjusted the setting to fit the magical world—and let's be honest, every businessman prioritizes profit.

This idea won't take center stage right away. It's more of a background concept for now. If it's not your thing, feel free to skip it. Yes, maybe it's a bit "wordy," but consider it a bridge toward more exciting developments.

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