Chapter 86: Covenant, Galleon
Wade had already considered this question. He asked calmly, “You can do Dark Magic too, right?”
“…A little,” Lupin hesitated, then decided not to hide it.
Wade nodded. “I read in the books that during the Wizarding War, the Ministry of Magic authorized Aurors to use Unforgivable Curses against Death Eaters. Dark Magic, meant to harm, can also be used to protect. It shows that magic’s nature isn’t inherently evil—what matters is the one who wields it.”
“Dark Magic is evil because it silently corrupts the soul of the one who uses it,” Lupin added quickly, fearing he might mislead a young mind. “And it carries immense danger and unpredictability. Once失控, it can cause serious harm—both to others and to oneself. That’s why Hogwarts strictly forbids students from learning or using Dark Magic.”
“I understand,” Wade said. “If you accept this job, you’ll be my teacher. And if you ever think I shouldn’t learn Dark Magic, you’re under no obligation to teach me.”
Lupin relaxed slightly, a small smile forming.
He’d expected a prodigy to be arrogant—but this boy was unexpectedly level-headed, open to advice.
That was a promising start.
At that moment, Professor Mor pushed open the door. He glanced around the pub without focusing on Wade and Lupin, then sat at a nearby table and ordered a cup of Honeywine.
“So,” Lupin asked, “if I accept, what should I do now? How should our magical instruction proceed during the school year?”
“Those details can wait,” Wade said, pulling out a scroll of parchment and placing it on the table. “First, read this Covenant. If you agree to its terms, sign your name. Only then is the contract officially binding.”
Lupin’s expression sharpened. He unrolled the parchment and read through each clause.
The Covenant was simple. The core responsibilities matched their earlier discussion: protecting Wade’s interests, keeping his secrets, never harming him, assisting in acquiring Alchemy Materials and Magical Artifacts, and fulfilling the duties of a Family Tutor—teaching knowledge, designing appropriate lesson plans, and doing everything possible to ensure the student’s safety in magical studies.
Lupin nodded silently in approval. All of this was expected, reasonable.
Then he reached the section on compensation—and paused.
“Base salary… 30 Galleons per week?” he blurted, stunned. “That’s three times the rate listed in the job advertisement!”
“Mm.” Wade nodded. “10 Galleons per week for the Agent role, 20 for the Family Tutor position—this is the base. Plus, you’ll earn a commission on transactions you help manage.”
Lupin’s eyes widened further. He continued reading—and sure enough, the details of the commission structure were clearly spelled out.
At the end of the Covenant, there was a clause stating that if Lupin failed to perform his duties and caused additional losses to the Client, Wade retained the right to unilaterally terminate the contract.
Wade knew that, given Lupin’s situation, even a low salary would have been enough to make him accept. Few would hire a dangerous Werewolf. And Lupin’s stronger moral compass wouldn’t allow him to pursue gain through illegal means.
But low pay, a binding contract, and personal integrity could only ensure duty—they couldn’t guarantee devotion.
And Wade needed more than duty. He needed a teacher who would pour everything into him, a comrade who’d stand beside him in danger, a trusted ally he could rely on in his back.
That kind of loyalty and commitment couldn’t be bought with obligation alone.
If Galleons could buy a wizard’s loyalty, Wade would have emptied his treasure vault without hesitation.
But raising the salary too high might make Lupin suspicious—wondering if he was being manipulated.
Lupin stared at the parchment, hesitating. “This… this is far too generous.”
He’d only hoped for a weekly salary of 10 Galleons—enough to survive, nothing more. The unexpected windfall made him uneasy.
“I expect you to deliver value in return,” Wade said after a pause. “If not, I’ll fire you next month.”
The words sounded like a threat—but with a hint of playful childishness that made Lupin’s tension ease. He chuckled, gently saying, “Then I’d better give you 200% effort to keep my little master happy.”
—Or perhaps, after his Werewolf identity is exposed, I’ll be fired on the spot?
That thought flickered in his mind. Still, he lowered his head and carefully signed his name on the parchment.
Wade signed his own name beneath it. The Covenant was now sealed.
From his bag, Wade pulled out the new Book of Friends and the Soft-Light Badge. “Now, let me brief you on my new task. Mr. Machionni, owner of Aslan Magical Workshop, should arrive in about half an hour with three broomsticks. I’d like you to be ready before then.”
Lupin stared blankly at the items. “So… my job starts already?”
“Of course.” Wade arched an eyebrow and tapped the Book of Friends with a finger. “I always seize every moment.”
…
Soon after, Machionni arrived.
He pushed open the door, saw Professor Mor and Wade seated at separate tables, and instantly understood the situation. Pretending not to notice the professor, he greeted Wade warmly from the corner.
Once informed that Lupin was Wade’s Agent, Machionni didn’t flinch at the sight of the tattered robes or the worn, weary look of a Werewolf. He plunged straight into business, praising the Soft-Light Badge with genuine enthusiasm—even more so than the Book of Friends.
“You finally grasp the true meaning of making money, Wade,” he said, leaning in and whispering, eyes sparkling. “Next time you have something like this, you must come to me. I’ll give you the highest price—no one else will beat me. Because the fools out there simply don’t understand the greatness of this kind of work!”
The brown-haired wizard came in like a storm, left just as fast—vanishing before the Butterbeer on his table had even been touched.
“So… that’s it?” Lupin asked, still dazed.
“Yep,” Wade said, in high spirits. “You’ll get used to it. I told you—we seize every moment.”
Lupin blinked. “Then… what now?”
“Not in a hurry.” Wade handed him the Book of Friends for contact purposes, then passed him a pouch of Galleons. “This is your first week’s salary. I suggest… uh… you start by taking care of yourself.”
…
Professor Mor slowly sipped his Honeywine, watching his student with half-lidded eyes.
The boy was smiling, speaking confidently with the other wizard—something rare, almost radiant. There was assurance in his voice, clarity in his stance, a brightness like the first light of dawn.
So exceptional.
Time took some, changed others… centuries passed, and in the end, you’d realize—some things never truly changed.
(End of Chapter)
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