After half an hour of discussion, the three finally reached an agreement.
Fred and George offered Robert a price he couldn't refuse. Any lower would have felt like helping him for free, but they also added conditions. All goods Robert sold at Hogwarts, excluding wands, were to be exclusively distributed by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes until the twins graduated and left school.
Robert understood their reasoning clearly. At this stage, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was still in its infancy. They had created a few small gadgets, but only a handful of Gryffindor students had shown any interest in buying them.
Robert was their first major client. Between earning startup capital and building a reputation, Fred and George chose the latter without hesitation. While capital was important, they hoped the wand stickers would help spread the name "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes" to the common rooms of the other three houses. With future collaborations in mind, the long-term benefits outweighed the immediate cash.
Robert, of course, agreed without much thought. This was exactly why he had sought out the Weasley twins. Their partnership was a perfect match.
However, when Robert revealed the price he intended to charge for the stickers, Fred and George were stunned.
"How much?" Fred asked in disbelief.
"Two galleons," Robert replied casually.
Fred pointed at the golden Lockhart sticker at the top of the pile, convinced he had misheard. He knew the item wouldn't be cheap, but two galleons for a sticker?
"A sticker for two galleons? Can that even sell?" Fred muttered, still in shock.
"Ah, that one's just for show," Robert said, waving his hand dismissively.
"What about the silver Dumbledore sticker?" George asked, cautiously.
"Five sickles," Robert answered. "Head of House ones go for two sickles."
At that, both twins exhaled in relief. That pricing was much more reasonable and consistent with what was being sold in the wand shop. Any higher and even they wouldn't have been confident about sales.
"Leave it to us," Fred said confidently.
George raised an eyebrow. "Just prepare a large enough bag—you'll need it to carry all the silver sickles!"
Both were filled with enthusiasm, and Robert trusted them completely.
Sure enough, when Robert laid out all the prepared stickers, a few sharp-eyed students immediately noticed. Six Professor McGonagall stickers sold on the spot. Soon, more students gathered.
Two sickles wasn't exactly cheap, but school had only just started and Halloween hadn't yet arrived. Everyone still had plenty of pocket money to spend.
"I regret this a bit," Fred whispered, watching the crowd swarm.
"Same here," George nodded in agreement, feeling a pang of heartache.
That evening alone, they sold sixty-five Professor McGonagall stickers, six Dumbledore stickers, and one Professor Sprout sticker.
The total revenue amounted to 162 silver sickles.
And that was just from Gryffindor House in one evening. If they expanded to all four houses… the twins' eyes practically turned into the shape of silver coins.
Even more promising was the nature of the product: the developing solution used on the stickers would fade over time. Eventually, the portraits would stop moving, forcing students to purchase replacements. It was a perfect recurring sales model.
To be honest, Fred and George felt a little envious.
Early the next morning, as soon as Robert stepped into the common room, he found Fred glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes.
"What's with that look?" Robert instinctively took a step back.
"Nothing, nothing," Fred replied, quickly masking his expression with a friendly smile. "I just wanted to ask… anything special about your stickers?"
"Of course," Robert said proudly. "I use a special pine resin glue. It doesn't interfere with wand usage at all."
Wand…
Fred instantly woke up fully.
How could he have forgotten? Anything that sticks to a wand—magical tape, portrait paint, even minor embellishments—tends to interfere with its functionality. They slightly disrupt spell casting, making the wand less effective.
But Robert's stickers had no such drawback.
Of course. This was something the twins couldn't replicate. Getting up early to catch him had been a waste of time.
Without another word, Fred turned and left under Robert's confused gaze.
"That was weird," Robert muttered. He didn't think too much of it and headed off to the Great Hall for breakfast, planning to return the book he'd borrowed from the library afterward.
However, just as he opened the portrait hole, his extended leg quickly retracted.
"Harry? Ron?"
Lying in the corridor outside the common room were Harry and Ron, looking completely wrecked.
"Did you... sleep out here all night?" Robert asked, surprised.
"Not all night," came the Fat Lady's voice. "They arrived ten minutes ago and just lay down. Didn't say the password, either. And you know I can't let people in without the password."
"You changed the password," Harry mumbled, barely audible.
Robert noticed how pale they both were. Just making it back up to the eighth floor had clearly drained them of all strength.
The Fat Lady had indeed changed the password that morning. Harry and Ron had been in Snape's office the entire time—there was no way they could've known.
"Come on, get in first," Robert said, stepping aside. "Do you need help?"
"Preferably not," Harry croaked.
They both staggered inside, barely able to keep their balance.
"Want something to eat?" Robert gestured toward a plate of biscuits left on a table. The Weasley twins had brought them from the kitchen the previous night, and there were still quite a few.
Logically, after such a rough night, Harry and Ron should have been starving. But as soon as they saw the biscuits, both of them clutched their stomachs and turned away in horror.
"Ugh…"
They looked even paler.
Eventually, Robert found half a bottle of pumpkin fizz, and they each managed to sip a little.
"What exactly happened in Snape's office?" Robert asked, settling into a nearby armchair.
"You wouldn't believe it," Ron said, clutching the bottle of pumpkin fizz with trembling hands.
"He made me squeeze leeches. By hand. A whole bucket..." Ron trailed off and leaned over, vomiting the bit of fizz he had just drunk.
"Wow…" Robert's face twitched. "I have to say, it's impressive that Snape could get that many leeches so quickly."
"No. Just one bucket," Harry said weakly, lips trembling. "He made me process Flobberworm mucus. Also by hand."
Robert silently stood and shifted to an armchair farther away.
Although he knew it wasn't polite, he was genuinely thankful he hadn't touched them earlier.
"Flobberworms, leeches, slugs—Snape is definitely doing this on purpose."
"Of course he is," Ron muttered. He had vomited so many times the night before that he barely had the strength to curse.
"I'm so jealous of Hermione," Ron added, his voice full of despair. "Her detention was just polishing silver…"
Robert fetched them some plain water.
"Don't feel too bad," he tried to comfort them. "Look on the bright side."
"Like what?" Harry asked, eyes hollow.
"Well…" Robert paused, trying to think. "At least Snape didn't make you collect rat spleens or spider eyes. That has to count for something, right?"
"I'd rather drop out!" Ron declared with absolute sincerity.
Harry didn't answer. An internal struggle was clearly raging inside him. It was as if a needle were swinging between the horrors of Privet Drive and the idea of rat parts.
Still, whether it was psychological or not, they did seem slightly better. They sat quietly, sipping plain water.
"I'll go to the Great Hall and get you something," Robert offered.
"Thanks, but I really can't eat," Harry replied, shaking his head. His stomach felt like it was in a vice grip, and the very idea of food made him nauseous.
Ron was in the same state. Hunger was preferable to throwing up again.
As more students entered the common room, many came over to check on Harry and Ron, full of concern. But after hearing what they'd gone through, most silently backed away.
It wasn't coldness. It was instinct.
Ginny attempted to approach several times but couldn't quite manage. At one point, when she looked at Harry, his face momentarily transformed in her mind into a giant Flobberworm in school robes.
At that moment, the young witch clenched her fists, silently vowing to preserve the original image of Harry in her heart.
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