During his first ten days at Hogwarts, Ryan kept to his routine as firmly as he could… but the strain was beginning to show. The academic pace was demanding, and although he had the grit, the lack of time was starting to take its toll.
Between classes, homework, personal training, and his own projects, his days became a constant chain of obligations. Because Ryan didn't limit himself to the mandatory subjects. After classes ended, he also dedicated time to practicing martial magic, studying Runic Inscription II, and developing his own inventions, ideas that didn't come from the system's formulas, but from his own brain.
He used concepts from Runic Theory I and Enchantment Theory I to create useful magical tools.
The first weekend was a total relief. Like drinking fresh water in the middle of the desert.
The sales of the enchanted quills progressed at a steady, logical pace: 20 units in 10 days, a stable average of two per day. His original stock of 16 ran out quickly, and Ryan had to spend an extra hour making four more.
The first 10 quills he sold at 8 galleons.
5 more at 9 galleons.
And the last 5 at shop price: 10 galleons. Although in some stores they were a bit more expensive, currently 11–12 galleons, so it was still a good deal.
In total, he collected 175 galleons, with only 12 galleons invested in materials, leaving him a net profit of 163 galleons.
His current total capital: 1,650 galleons.
On top of that, there was the damned bet he had lost to Pandora. As punishment, Ryan had to take care of her Potions homework. Luckily, it was only for one week of classes and Pandora didn't go overboard. She even sat with him in the library while he worked, because, according to her, she didn't want the professor to ask her something and expose her. At least that chapter was closed.
And although it didn't seem like it, in the middle of all that, Ryan managed to finish the two pairs of speed-reading glasses. He spent one hour a day for ten days. Delicate, meticulous work. Precise rune inscription. Reinforcement enchantments with no room for error. But he did it. Slower than he expected, yes, but not bad at all.
The glasses were ready.
He let Pandora and Emmeline choose the frames. Emmeline asked for an elegant, high-quality pair: black with dark blue details, costing 4 galleons. Pandora, on the other hand, chose the simplest pair possible, though even the simplest was still good quality, at 2.5 galleons.
The lenses, specialized and resistant to magical distortions, cost 3 galleons each.
In total, the cost of materials was 12.5 galleons for both.
As for his reputation, it had improved remarkably. In just ten days, his name was on the lips of almost every Gryffindor.
And, for the first time, not for something negative.
Not for his usual sarcasm, nor for his oversized ego, nor for his late arrivals or his apparent disinterest in everything.
For the first time, Ryan Ollivander, the eccentric one, the one who never cared about anything, the one who cost Gryffindor 35 points last year and lost them the House Cup, was respected. In his own way, of course.
No one would say it out loud, no one was about to inflate his ego further, but the change was obvious.
It all started with the quill he sold to Alicia in the Great Hall, and the griffin quill she valued at 250 galleons. Then came the sales in the common room, the courtyards, and the corridors.
And now, Ryan had counted at least 50 to 70 students using his quills. He saw boys and girls from all years writing concepts in the air as if the sky itself were a parchment.
Some in the courtyards, doodling nonsense or inventing games. Others in the library, reviewing theory or copying passages from books, using the air as a visual organizer.
The quills didn't write on their own, of course, but they let you write without wasting parchment, without making a mess of your desk, and, above all, think. Visualize. Connect ideas.
A useful, fun, and different tool. And now it was public knowledge that he was the inventor.
Since the invention was legally registered at the Ministry, the Hogwarts staff couldn't do anything about him selling them there. Besides, Ryan hadn't been late even once since the start of the term.
He had earned 10 points in Transfiguration, 5 in Potions, and another 5 in Charms.
Twenty points for Gryffindor. The same boy who had lost them 35 the previous year.
His roommates already spoke to him, which was clearly progress. Even if reluctantly. Perhaps out of convenience.
Perhaps out of genuine curiosity.
As for Emmeline, his relationship with her had also evolved.
From the very first official Transfiguration class, where Ryan gave her an enchanted griffin quill and then helped her with the Evanesco spell, there was a kind of silent connection, a closeness.
She, an elegant young pure-blood of good standing, was never arrogant or prejudiced.
And although her refined presence inspired a natural respect, Emmeline Vance was known for her sense of justice, her manners, and her reliability.
She wasn't prideful, nor did she share the ideals of blood supremacy. In fact, she rejected them.
She helped those in need. She never raised her voice. She didn't seek the spotlight.
Emmeline noticed the change in Ryan. She observed him with growing curiosity.
An inventor with real talent, who in just days showed progress in key subjects like Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions, beyond even the best in his year.
With a sarcastic personality, sharp humor, and a practical intelligence he didn't flaunt with books, but with results.
That she liked.
And though she tried not to show it, she felt drawn to that creative, arrogant, yet fair mind.
Ryan, for his part, was also interested in Emmeline. Not just because of the help she gave him with sales, publicity, and the like. Nor solely because she was beautiful, though, of course, that added value, a lot of value.
It was also her character. Her ability to withstand his sarcasm without crumbling, without being offended, even firing back a remark or two with admirable precision.
She was intelligent, but not intense. Serene, but not passive. And above all, she never tried to please.
He had given her the griffin quill as a mix of flirtation and genuine gratitude.
As for Pandora, Ryan's interest had been there from the very beginning. They had shared a seat on the train. And the moment Ryan heard her name, he knew who she was, Luna Lovegood's mother.
A kind and eccentric figure who had always sparked his sympathy whenever he read the books or watched the films.
During those first days, he felt a genuine curiosity about her.
But the routine at Hogwarts imposed its limits. Classes, homework, his extracurricular schedule just as intense as everything else…
Besides, being in different houses and not sharing classes, they hardly ever crossed paths.
Except in the library, when Ryan had to fulfill the lost bet and do her Potions homework.
Even then, they spoke little. Pandora wasn't distant, but she wasn't especially open either. With Emmeline, it was different. They shared year, house, and every class.
And although she had close friends, Marlene, Dorcas, Alice, Celeste, she had never fully opened up to them.
Always kind and present, but with an invisible barrier. A self-imposed solitude, as if observing were her way of participating without exposing herself.
That gave her freedom.
Freedom to spend time with Ryan without having to explain herself. Without anyone demanding misplaced loyalties.
After all, she wasn't close to Marlene, Ryan's ex-girlfriend. She had nothing to justify.
And he, who used to be a self-centered boy who never took anything seriously, had changed drastically. He no longer arrived late, he earned points, and in difficult subjects like Transfiguration or Potions, he was several steps ahead of everyone else.
Yes, he still carried that charming air of a sarcastic genius, as if he enjoyed being the center of attention…
But he was no longer the typical arrogant one who passed because of a good memory or natural talent.
Now there was work, method, and ambition behind every result.
Who could blame Emmeline for getting closer to him?
Ryan was in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled in an armchair by the window, legs crossed, a book open in his hands.
He was wearing his speed-reading glasses, and although it didn't look like it, he was completely focused. It was nearly five in the afternoon, and the common room was packed. The chatter of conversations, games, and laughter filled the air, but he seemed to exist on another plane.
Several watched him out of the corner of their eye. Some with curiosity, others with a mix of respect and bewilderment. Ryan Ollivander… studying after class?
A voice he recognized instantly pulled Ryan out of his concentration.
"Am I interrupting?"