"It's just a prank. Besides, he's the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Fred said with a shrug. "If he's actually competent, he shouldn't fail to notice something suspicious about the biscuit, don't you think?"
"You've got a point," Harry nodded in agreement.
He suddenly thought of Dudley. If he had never traveled back to Hogwarts a hundred years in the past, he probably wouldn't have minded taking a few of these biscuits home and letting Dudley eat a couple.
Dudley...
Thinking about his gluttonous Muggle cousin reminded Harry of Smeltings, the private boarding school Dudley attended. And if students there all came from wealthy families...
Would prank items like these become wildly popular if Dudley sold them around school?
The Weasley family wasn't well off. If Fred and George could earn some money from inventions like these, it would help support their family. At the very least, Ron wouldn't have to keep wearing secondhand robes.
Besides, even the Potter fortune wasn't infinite. No matter how much gold filled the family vaults, it would eventually run out. They needed a reliable way to make money.
No... Canary Creams were too flashy. They needed harmless prank products that Muggles wouldn't immediately recognize as magic.
With that thought, Harry looked up at Fred and George.
"Fred, George, I just thought of something even more interesting."
"What is it?" the twins asked in perfect unison.
"Do you have any other ideas?" Harry tapped the Canary Cream on the table. "I mean... besides this."
"Don't tell us you think the Canary Cream isn't exciting enough and want to come up with something even better for Professor Quirrell?" Fred and George exchanged a glance before high-fiving each other.
"Brilliant! I knew the Lion King of Gryffindor wouldn't limit his imagination!"
"No, that's not what I mean." Harry picked up the biscuit. "Do you have anything that's... less magical? Something subtle enough that Muggles wouldn't notice."
"We've honestly never thought about that," the twins admitted together.
"So what are you planning to do?" they asked.
Harry glanced at them and tapped the tabletop with a finger.
"You know I've always lived with my aunt and uncle, right?"
"We do."
"I have a Muggle cousin who's currently attending Smeltings," Harry continued. "Now imagine if he started selling your products at his school..."
He deliberately stopped there, giving the twins plenty of room to imagine the possibilities.
The twins exchanged another look. They still hadn't quite understood.
"You mean... have your Muggle cousin sell our products at school?" Fred asked. "But they're Muggles..."
"That's where your creativity comes in," Harry said, tapping the table again. "Muggle money can be exchanged for Galleons. If I remember correctly, five pounds can be exchanged for one Galleon. And the students at Smeltings all come from extremely wealthy families."
"Extremely wealthy?" George's eyes lit up. Harry's idea immediately caught his attention.
"Very wealthy," Harry said seriously. "Maybe not quite as rich as the Malfoys, but not far behind."
Harry was comparing them to the Malfoy family of his own era. Back then, the Malfoys had been at the height of their influence in the wizarding world. Cassandra's father, Septimus Malfoy, wielded enormous power within the Ministry of Magic. Many believed that the Minister for Magic at the time, Anchises Osbert, was merely a puppet, while Septimus Malfoy was the true power behind the Ministry.
The modern Malfoy family...
Well, they had declined considerably over the years.
Even so, a starving camel was still bigger than a horse. The Malfoys still enjoyed a lifestyle the Weasleys could hardly imagine.
Harry's words completely changed the twins' way of thinking.
Exactly!
If Muggles had money, why shouldn't they earn it?
"We're off to start researching!" Fred and George exclaimed before rushing away at full speed.
Harry opened his mouth, realizing he hadn't even had the chance to offer any suggestions.
Still, perhaps that was for the best. They could experiment on their own.
What Harry hadn't expected was that Professor Quirrell would fail to appear in Defense Against the Dark Arts for the next two weeks. In his place, Professor Snape taught every lesson.
The Gryffindors suffered terribly.
With the exception of the handful of students receiving Snape's special attention, everyone lost huge numbers of House points.
Even those "special" students weren't spared completely. Snape always found tiny mistakes to criticize, deducting one or two points whenever possible.
In a way, Professor Snape achieved perfect equality.
Outstanding classroom performance would never earn you mercy.
When Neville executed a flawless Expelliarmus, Snape's expression somehow became even darker.
It wasn't because Neville's Disarming Charm had been poorly cast.
It was because Neville had actually shown talent in Defense Against the Dark Arts while remaining utterly hopeless at Potions, as clueless as a troll.
The comparison only made Snape even more dissatisfied with him.
"Mr. Longbottom..." Snape said meaningfully. "An excellent Disarming Charm. Gryffindor will receive... two points for your proper spellcasting."
For one brief moment, every student in the classroom gasped in perfect unison.
Professor Snape?
Was this really Professor Snape?
Other than Potter... he actually awarded points to another student?
And to Longbottom, of all people—the very student who performed the worst in Potions?
Neville stared at him in complete disbelief.
His expression clearly read:
"Professor... did you accidentally drink the wrong potion?"
Snape didn't seem offended in the slightest.
Curling his lips into a cold smile, he said,
"In light of Mr. Longbottom's performance, every Wednesday and Saturday you will report to the Potions classroom with Potter for private instruction."
Neville's face fell instantly.
He had never imagined that performing an excellent Disarming Charm would bring such terrible consequences.
Private instruction?
Give me a break.
Everyone knew Professor Snape's "private instruction" was nothing more than the deluxe VIP version of a one-on-one verbal lashing.
After class, Neville still couldn't accept reality.
"What's wrong, Neville?" Ron asked with concern, noticing how dejected his roommate looked.
"I..." Neville shuddered. "Professor Snape is putting me in detention... Oh, Merlin, I just hope I'm still alive to see tomorrow's sunrise."
"Relax, Neville," Seamus tried to reassure him. "It might not be as bad as you think. Look at Harry—he's doing just fine."
"Exactly, Neville," Harry added. "Professor Snape is actually very kind and easy to talk to. I learned a lot from him during detention."
The moment those words left Harry's mouth, Neville, Seamus, and Ron all stared at him with identical expressions.
"No, seriously, mate...
People are built differently."
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