Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 250: Opening Ceremony (3k)

"Don't wait any longer, hurry and take the caterpillar with you—"

The employee, with his broad head and large ears, plastered a fawning smile on his face.

The Floo Powder Administrators have arrived. They belong to the Floo Network Administration, an agency under the Department of Magical Transportation of the Ministry of Magic.

Responsible for establishing, maintaining, monitoring and managing the flyway network.

Now, they have fast-tracked the Floo network in just half an hour.

Once the green flames were lit in the fireplace, Sheehan could quickly contact Professor Quirrell in places with fireplaces, such as the Great Hall at Hogwarts or Hope Cottage.

However, it is unlikely that one can enter Hogwarts using Floo Powder, as this would be subject to close surveillance.

Did I say I'd been looking forward to you for a long time?

The Fiora administrator, with his broad head and large ears, was equally respectful.

Are you kidding me? This is a teenage version of Dumbledore, receiving such an honor at the age of eleven. His future is bright and promising.

Thank you for your help.

Sheen responded politely.

……

The opening date for Fairy Tale Workshop has been set; it will be the day after the opening of another magic workshop.

Upon learning this, Professor Quirrell was momentarily at a loss for words. Mr. Grimm seemed to be quite famous in the Ministry of Magic… fame could certainly bring money, but it wouldn't last…

Ultimately, the success of a business depends on the quality of its products.

After leaving Fairy Tale Workshop, Sheen went to Magic Workshop.

The Weasley twins are making final preparations in full swing; they've even hired two Hufflepuff seniors.

All the goods were displayed to the brim, and promotional posters were put up everywhere.

The last night before the opening was destined to be anything but peaceful.

Wednesday arrived, the day of the grand opening.

Mrs. Weasley woke them up early in the morning. They each hurriedly ate five or six bacon sandwiches and then put on their coats. Mrs. Weasley picked up a flowerpot from the kitchen mantel and looked inside.

"Not much left, Arthur,"

She sighed,
"I need to go buy some things today... Alright, guests first! Sheen, you go first!"

She brought the flowerpot to him.

“You must say those words clearly, son,”

Mrs. Weasley told Sheehan that George had also put his hand into the flowerpot.

"You know, there are many kinds of demonic fire, and you must choose the right one, but as long as you speak clearly—"

Remember, as soon as you step into the fire, tell them where you're going—

“Mom, Sheehan has walked this many times, but—remember to keep your elbows close together.”

Ron reminded him,

"Close your eyes, there's smoke—don't move around, or you might fall out of another furnace door—but don't panic either, and don't come out too early."

……

Diagon Alley.

“Come quick, kids! I’m so excited!”

Mrs. Weasley said.

Sheehan followed behind the enthusiastic Mrs. Weasley, and he was the only one being held tightly by her hand.

In her words:
“Every Weasley grew up in Diagon Alley, and there’s only one little wizard here who needs more care.”

Diagon Alley was already bustling with people.

It was early morning, with a thin mist still shrouding the sky and the sky not yet fully bright, but that couldn't dampen the wizards' joyful and expectant spirits.

Every product line here is a bestseller in the British magical world; affordable pricing, excellent quality, and novelty have become synonymous with this shop.

The only downside is that there are too few.

The wizards had finally gotten their wish to open for business, and of course they wouldn't miss it.

Sheehan and the Weasleys struggled to squeeze into the crowd, which included magazine reporters who were snapping photos of the shop with their cameras.

This shop is so prominent now that it makes the facades of the surrounding shops look dull and lackluster.

—Because they were buried by the announcement.

Fred and George's shop window, however, continued to attract attention like a fireworks display. Even ordinary pedestrians couldn't help but turn their heads to look at the window, and some people seemed particularly shocked, stopping in their tracks and queuing up in a daze.

The shop window on the left is dazzling with all sorts of rotating, twitching, flashing, jumping, and screaming merchandise.

A huge poster covered the right-hand shop window, with bright yellow lettering printed on it:

Why are you worried about having a headache?

You should care about constipation – the feeling of constipation torments many Chinese people!

"Mom, let go of great Green, we have to go!"

Fred shouted.

She loosened her grip on Sheen's hand.

See you at the shop.

Sheehan nodded to Mrs. Weasley, then left the shop through a path that led to the back of the magic shop.

After entering through the back door, Fred and George continued pacing back and forth.

Sheen saw that Manager Gert was also anxiously looking ahead, both nervous and expectant.

The popularity of the theater exceeded everyone's expectations.

The wizards that flooded in were almost:

"Take my Galleons and give me back your damn products!" was written all over his face.

Sheehan promptly pulled Justin and Hermione from the crowd to his side.

Otherwise, they don't know where they would be swept away by the main force.

"Sheen, my God, this is terrifying."

Hermione was still shaken.

"It seems like even two stores might not be enough..."

Justin analyzed.

The two then followed Sheen with great interest to pick out things.

"What is this?" Justin asked, holding up something that looked like a telescope.

"do not know."

Sheen said.

"what about this?"

Hermione and a bunch of witches are gathered around some dazzling pink products.

"I don't know."

Sheen said.

"Then what do you know?"

Hermione was stunned.

"I didn't make these."

Sheehan explained, but before he could finish speaking, he noticed Justin's eyes darkening, and his expression turned somewhat helpless.

"Can anyone tell me how someone came up with the idea of ​​stuffing a fist into a telescope?"

After using a unique ointment, Justin got rid of his dark circles.

But not every wizard in the shop was so lucky; many times, wizards would scream.

Sheen watched silently, listening to the noisy sounds. He waved his wand, and the products scattered on the ground flew back to their respective areas on their own.

It is not easy to accomplish this, because each object needs to float in a different direction, and different intensities of magical power need to be used depending on its weight.

Sheen couldn't do it before, but now he has been learning for a while.

"A total of three Galleons, nine Sikor, and one Nat,"

Fred's voice rang out from the stairwell. He carefully examined the various boxes in Ron's arms and said,
"Pay it."

"I'm your brother!"

"I almost forgot. Three Galleons and ten Sickles, so Nat will count as one Sickle for you."

"Why is it getting bigger and bigger?! I don't have that much money!"

"Then you'd better put the things back, and remember not to put them on the wrong shelf."

Ron threw down a few boxes, muttering to himself.

……

The shop became quiet before evening.

Customers were very disappointed; there simply wasn't enough product.

Even with all that Sheehan and his men did, they still underestimated the purchasing enthusiasm of the British wizards.

Fred and George felt like they were saying goodbye to a living Galleon with every customer they saw off; their hearts ached terribly.

However, when they saw the warehouse full of Galleons, they almost lifted Sheen up and tossed him into the air.

Some are happy and some are sad.

Professor Quirrell's eyes were filled with worry as he looked at the enormous crowd.

This was especially true after observing Sheen emerge from the trickery.

“Mr. Green… that shop’s animal party series is indeed excellent, perhaps we could reschedule for another time…”

He offered his suggestions cautiously.

He had lost all confidence in tomorrow's opening.

Anyone could see that the wizards had come to the magic shop, and a large number of them bought the items they wanted.

Once these items are used by many people, the wizards' demands will increase. Moreover, that magic shop offers high-quality products at low prices, making it difficult for any other shop to compete.

And to this day, they still don't know where their products are.

The night is very quiet.

Occasionally, wizards leaving the magic workshop would pass by, glance at the place with curiosity, and then walk away without much interest.

This seems to confirm Professor Quirrell's statement.

Sheehan then placed some cookie boxes on the shelf; these cookies looked to be no more than fifty boxes, which made Professor Quirrell even more uneasy.

"This is?"

Quirrell was somewhat stunned.

"Our products."

Sheen explained.

"Oh—oh...yes, that's how it is..."

Professor Quirrell stammered, his face contorted in pain, and said nothing.

But in his heart, he secretly made a decision.

"Relax, Professor Quirrell."

Seeing that Professor Quirrell had been depressed for several days, Sheehan comforted him.

Sheen didn't know how to explain it, but the professor would understand by tomorrow.

Suddenly, the shop doorbell rang. Professor Quirrell looked over with hope and found Professor Terra with her silver hair and beautiful face.

“My disciples, just as I said, tomorrow is the only day we will be open to the public.”

Professor Terra walked over, her eyes sharp.

"The only one open to the public..."

Professor Quirrell paused for a few seconds, then repeated, puzzled.

"For some truly great alchemists, their creations initially exist only in the hands of a specific group of people."

It's not just determined by price; there are many other factors involved.

For example, Filo powder's first transmission is always kept secret because it's too important and can only be strictly controlled...

But alchemists don't want their creations to start out unknown, so they open the shop to the public for a separate day.

Professor Terra was explaining to Sheehan, and incidentally, he was also letting his disciple's representative listen.

"So... these cookies are only actually available for sale for one day?"

Professor Quirrell's vision went black; limited quantities, not for public sale, and his neighbor was an incredibly powerful competitor...

It was pitch black before his eyes—because there was no future.

Even though he had a vague feeling that something was wrong, the series of bad news had already stopped him from thinking.

　There will be a 3-word chapter later.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)