"Wow! Arthur, this stuff is amazing!"
"Yeah! What kind of meat is this? The flavor's incredible!"
Stuffed and satisfied, Fred and George were full of praise.
Arthur didn't hide it. He told them outright: spider legs.
"Wicked, mate! Where'd you get it? We've got to snag some too!" George exclaimed.
"In the depths of the Forbidden Forest." Arthur's tone was so casual it was as if he were talking about his backyard.
"Merlin's beard! The depths of the Forbidden Forest? We wouldn't dare go there. How'd you manage?" Fred asked in shock.
"By accident. I only meant to gather some herbs."
No way could Arthur admit he'd been planning to hollow out the Forest itself.
"Shame Ron didn't get to try this." George shook his head.
"Actually, he tasted it before you did."
Arthur knew the twins just wanted to prank their little brother.
"Whoa! Bet he fainted the second he found out." Fred's eyes went wide.
"Yup."
No one knew Ron better than his own brothers. His reaction had been exactly as they'd expected.
"By the way—interested in my investment?"
"Huh?"
The Weasley twins blinked at the sudden turn.
"I mean, I think your prank products have real potential. I'd like to invest—fund your alchemical research while you're in school. Once you graduate, I'll stake you for a shop in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. You make the products, we split profits. How about fifty-fifty?"
Arthur laid his idea out clearly.
"Oh, bloody hell—tell us you're not joking!" Fred and George looked half in disbelief.
"I'm not. Here's the first installment."
Under cover of his robes, Arthur pulled 100 Galleons from his Zen Garden. The marigolds had been generous lately.
"Thank you, Arthur!"
"No—thank you, Boss Arthur!"
They whooped and danced around, still clowning even in their excitement.
"But fifty-fifty's too much. Fred and I should only take forty." George sobered slightly.
"No, no. Fifty-fifty actually favors me. I hate managing things—I'll just collect dividends. You'll be the ones running the whole shop."
Arthur refused firmly. He wasn't in it for the money. With marigolds bringing in twenty-one Galleons a day, and more on the horizon, he hardly needed it. What he wanted was their brains.
These two overflowed with strange, creative ideas. And their father, Arthur, had managed to enchant a Muggle car into flight. Clearly, the Weasley family had more depth than they let on—after all, they were one of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" pure-blood families.
By investing, Arthur ensured the twins would bring their creations to him first. The exchange would only broaden his own alchemical knowledge.
The twins didn't press the point further. They spoke in unison, solemn for once:
"By the honor of the Weasley name, we won't let you down!"
Thus, the future joke shop that would shake Britain's wizarding world was born—over a midnight snack.
The next morning, Arthur was dragged from bed by Hermione.
For some reason, at Hogwarts the girls' dorm had a big "No Boys Allowed" sign, but the boys' dorm had no such rule.
"What's the rush, Hermione? No classes today." Arthur yawned, slumping into a chair in the common room.
"Cousin, I'm nervous again. What should I do?" Her tone was anxious.
"Nervous? The Transfiguration Club meeting isn't until tonight. Plenty of time."
He was still half-asleep.
"I know, but I can't help it. Help me distract myself?"
"Distraction? Easy. Here—try the games in this."
He handed her a copy of his "Magic Book."
"I made it with alchemy. It can store books, handle communication, even play games."
Hermione took it, experimenting with the functions. In the chat system, she found only Arthur as a contact, and immediately marked him as a special favorite.
In the storage section, he'd uploaded all textbooks from years one through seven.
And for games—there was just one: Plants vs. Zombies.
She tapped the silly zombie icon, followed Crazy Dave's babbling tutorial, and began her very first video game.
Arthur watched for a while, then dozed off beside her.
When he woke again, it was midday. Hermione was still at it—already in the pool levels.
He was stunned. This was the cheat-free version. His cousin had a real knack for gaming!
"Cousin, this is so fun! How'd you come up with it?" she asked, pausing her game.
"Call it a dream. Anyway, I'm not nervous anymore, right?"
"Not at all—thanks to your book! What's it called?"
"Hadn't named it yet. Let's just call it… iPad."
He thought of a certain product from his past life.
Twenty years later, when Hermione heard of a Muggle fruit company's new release, she would briefly suspect her cousin of being a prophet. But that was for the future.
After lunch, Hermione leafed through advanced Transfiguration notes. No longer tense, she found herself gaining new insights into the subject, her skill deepening again.
That evening, Arthur and Hermione went to the Transfiguration Club's meeting room.
Other members soon arrived. Arthur counted ten—six from Ravenclaw, one each from Gryffindor and Slytherin, and two from Hufflepuff.
"Good, everyone's here. First, let's welcome our two new members," Professor McGonagall said.
The applause was warm. Those chosen for the club weren't the type to belittle other Houses.
Introductions done, it was time for demonstrations and discussion.
"Let's start with the newcomers," McGonagall suggested.
Arthur and Hermione nodded.
"I'll go first." Arthur stepped up, raised his wand—and a tiger appeared.
It padded forward, shifting form with each step: mouse, rabbit, pig, horse… every transformation vivid and lifelike.
Finally, with a wave, the tiger leapt and became an Eastern dragon, coiling in the air.
He had performed the cycle of the twelve zodiac animals.
Applause broke out. The seniors were impressed. Only McGonagall knew just how high Arthur's Transfiguration had climbed. He could already manage Animagus-level transformations alone.
Hermione's turn came. Inspired by her morning game, she transformed a chair into a Peashooter.
Its bright eyes glared ahead, spitting peas into the empty air.
"Marvelously inventive!" Even McGonagall couldn't help praising.
Hermione bowed and rejoined Arthur.
Then came the upperclassmen. Each had their own specialties, and Arthur learned plenty from every demonstration.
During the discussion, though, only McGonagall could really keep up with him. Not because he outclassed everyone else, but because his questions were so sharp and unconventional that only her depth of knowledge could match his pace.
By the end of the evening, everyone left enriched.
On the way back, Hermione skipped with joy.
"Cousin, I didn't embarrass myself, did I?"
"Not at all. Hermione was brilliant."
He ruffled her hair.
"Hehe. The seniors are impressive, but none of them are as good as you."
She'd noticed it herself—sometimes her questions stumped even the older students, but Arthur always had an answer. To her, he was the best.
"Of course. I'm a genius!" Arthur said proudly, making her giggle.
"Alright, here we are. Good night, Hermione." He pinched her smiling cheeks.
"Good night, Cousin!"
Hermione hugged him tight, then ran off to her dorm.
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