Chapter 53: Steven Mor's Dream
"No, sir, this number won’t work… it’s a bit too high… Professor, please take my situation into account. Business is tough right now—can’t we compromise a little on the profit margin?"
"The concept is clever, but the implementation is easily replicable. You know how rampant piracy is. If the cost is too high, people will just buy counterfeit versions. I’d make little to nothing either way."
"Double-sided Mirrors and Floopowder can both serve the same purpose. It might not be as popular as you think. We only tested it out of curiosity. Who knows if it’ll actually sell? If you price it too high, I’ll have no choice but to walk away."
The group surrounded Professor Mor, each speaking in turn, like a swarm closing in.
When Machionni finally made his offer, Wade finally understood—this wasn’t just a casual gathering. Professor Mor’s party was, in fact, a launch event for his Book of Friends.
No wonder he hadn’t allowed Wade to sell the books on school grounds. If the concept leaked early, the surprise effect would be ruined. And besides, selling a few copies in Hogwarts dormitories would only earn Wade pocket change—nowhere near the scale these "Multinational Corporations" could achieve.
The unfamiliar wizards gathered in the little garden were all executives from global magical enterprises. Thanks to Floosystem and Portkeys, cross-border travel was effortless for wizards—far easier than for Muggles. With the Invisible Expansion Charm, shipping costs vanished. It was simple for a wizard to sell their product across nations, even continents.
Wade trailed behind Professor Mor, watching as the elderly man sparred with the executives over the licensing fee for the Book of Friends. One man even offered a flat hundred thousand Galleons to buy the patent outright—only to be nearly thrown out. Professor Mor held firm, raising the price step by step, but refusing to sell outright. He’d only grant usage rights.
The once-pleasing, respectful tone of the executives vanished. Now they were haggling fiercely—some relentless, others nitpicking, some pretending to abandon the deal, others playing on emotion. Yet Professor Mor remained unmoved, like a stone pillar in a raging river.
He started with an outrageously high price, then slowly negotiated, listing every advantage of the Book of Friends: fast, convenient, affordable, universally desirable, and destined to be repurchased throughout a wizard’s life. Did they even understand how beautifully engineered it was? How stable? Counterfeits could never match its reliability. Try it yourself—your Transformation Charm would fail beyond fifty meters, and complex messages couldn’t even be transmitted properly.
When one executive realized he couldn’t convince Professor Mor, he tried bypassing him—turning directly to Wade. But Wade just smiled shyly and stepped behind Professor Mor, as if hiding.
He knew he didn’t need to act mature or sharp at eleven. Let the adults handle this. He had enough self-awareness to know that if this were just him, he might’ve accepted the first offer—ten thousand Galleons for a full buyout.
After all, his previous best idea for the Book of Friends was making a few hundred or thousand Galleons among Hogwarts classmates—by churning out dozens of books in his dorm, like a factory worker on a production line.
Now, though, he was on the verge of sitting at the capitalist table.
But handing over control wasn’t a loss—it was trust. Because these adults were reliable, real people who actually cared.
Wade looked up at Professor Mor, who stood firm and fierce, his thin frame like a cliff face rising against the storm. There was a flicker of confusion and depth in Wade’s eyes.
Seeing Wade caught in the crossfire, his expression distant and vulnerable, Professor Mor waved him off. “Steven, take Wade out to play. Don’t stand around here bothering us.” Then he rolled up his sleeves, ready for battle.
Quiet as a plant, once again classified as just another child—Steven Mor: …
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he gave in, following Wade out. Once outside, he let out a long, weary sigh.
“If you’ve got something to do, go ahead,” Wade said gently. “I can just find a quiet spot to read.”
Who would want to babysit a kid? He certainly didn’t.
“No—no, it’s not you,” Steven Mor mumbled, shoulders slumped. He’d almost kept it to himself, but under Wade’s steady gaze, he finally confessed: “I’m already thirty-six. But my father still treats me like a child. I want to follow in Mr. Scamander’s footsteps—travel the world, become a Magical Creature Specialist. But my parents won’t let me go. They say it’s too dangerous…”
Wade stared, baffled. “But… they’re not holding you prisoner, are they?”
A man in his thirties, a wizard—how could he not just leave if he wanted to?
“If I just disappeared… my mother would be heartbroken. My father would be furious,” Steven sighed. “I just want their understanding… if I go now, I won’t even dare come back.”
Wade was speechless. He hadn’t expected Professor Mor’s son—so large and bear-like in build—to be this soft, this fragile.
After a pause, he asked, “Why don’t you write a letter to Mr. Scamander?”
“A letter? W-what kind of letter?”
“From what I’ve heard, Mr. Scamander keeps many magical creatures. Maybe you could ask him for a job—something like a Keeper. The pay doesn’t matter. What matters is being near him, learning from him. If one day you can handle magical creatures as calmly and confidently as he does, Professor Mor might finally trust you to travel.”
Wade thought of the magical container Scamander carried—self-contained, with multiple climates and ecosystems. He couldn’t help but feel a deep, quiet envy.
“Right! Why didn’t I think of that?” Steven lit up with sudden hope. But then hesitation crept in. “But… how do I write such a letter? What if I sound too bold? Too presumptuous?”
He asked seriously, even though the one he was talking to was just a child.
“Just be honest,” Wade said. “Tell him your dreams, your struggles, your knowledge of magical creatures. If he refuses, he won’t be angry—because you were sincere.”
—Though he couldn’t help wondering: would Mr. Scamander, reading the letter, mistake the writer for a recent graduate?
At first, Wade had thought Steven Mor was intimidating. Then he’d found him gentle and steady. But after spending time with him, he realized—this man’s true nature was childlike, even more innocent than most children.
No wonder Professor Mor wouldn’t let him go. If that were Wade’s own son, he’d never send him out into the world alone, either.
(End of Chapter)
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