"An interview…"
Mr. Weasley muttered.
"Nope," Seán said.
He didn't want his quiet Hogwarts life blown up.
Alchemists knew boundaries. The British Ministry and alchemy circles had an understanding. But fame-hungry wizards? Different story.
Like the soon-to-be Defense Against the Dark Arts professor…
If Seán remembered right, Harry once got stuck for hours helping Gilderoy Lockhart answer fan mail.
To Seán, Chocolate Frog cards were more trophy than useful. Fame wasn't the point.
Magic was everything.
"Understood, Mr. Green."
Professor Quirrell nodded, asked nothing, and started ushering the middle-aged witch out.
That's when her calm face cracked. Expected, but still a shock.
Even a Chocolate Frog card—one of the wizarding world's highest honors—couldn't sway every wizard.
She was stunned. A kid this young, turning down glory like it was nothing…
No wonder they called him the Thrice-Great Hermes.
"Please reconsider," she said before leaving. "We don't need your full info."
Seán frowned slightly. Quirrell paused, waiting.
"Chocolate Frog cards collect every wizard who belongs in magical history. We don't care if the info's complete.
"For figures we can't verify, we just sketch a portrait or leave it blank."
She spoke fast, then waited respectfully.
Aside from Mr. Weasley, hardly anyone noticed this tucked-away corner.
Mr. Weasley suddenly felt like he'd stumbled into something huge. The guest had gone from "Hogwarts kid" to "young Dumbledore-level legend" in seconds…
His back started sweating.
"No public appearance?" Seán's voice was young, but no one ignored it.
"If that's your wish—of course," the witch said.
Seán decided to hear her out.
"Bye, Mr. Weasley."
"Oh—go ahead, kid," Mr. Weasley said, waving frantically.
Moments later.
The witch, buzzing with excitement, stepped into the private booth.
The Chocolate Frog Card Committee was strict. They collected wizards from every field, worldwide.
With so many, they had tiers.
Of the current 100+ cards, famous scholars and experts took top priority and most slots.
- Magic theorists (Adalbert Waffling)
- Muggle studies experts (Blenheim Stalk)
- Arithmancy diviners (Bridget Wenlock)
- Geographers & astronomers (Ptolemy)
- Inventors of famous items or spells… and so on.
Next: mega-celebs.
- The entire Weird Sisters rock band—lead singer to drummer, all carded.
- Singer Celestina Warbeck.
- "Vampire crooner" Lorcan d'Eath.
Plenty of sports stars and authors too.
Finally: wizards who did something first in history.
- First witch Minister for Magic (Artemisia Lufkin)
- First to fly a broom across the Atlantic (Jocunda Sykes)
But the highest tier—the ones the cards cannot miss—are the greatest living wizards!
Dumbledore. Grindelwald. The four Hogwarts founders back in the day. Their presence validates the whole collection.
And now, that tiny wizard? The Committee had decided: he was the next era's greatest.
His importance had surpassed Harry Potter.
That's why they sent Louise Vick, head of Information Collection, for what might be a historic meeting.
The booth had a small enchanted fireplace, lighting the room warmly.
Books lined every wall—Quirrell's old collection.
Seán sat on a soft leather stool. Quirrell stood expressionless beside him, like a butler.
"Just a silhouette is fine, esteemed Mr. Green…" Louise explained gently.
…
Outside, the crowds died down. Fairy Tale Cookies were nearly sold out.
Louise emerged from the booth, clutching a folder, beaming. Professor Tella raised an eyebrow as the witch marched straight to her.
"Master Tella from Wagadou—do you have time next week for an interview?"
As an alchemist, Tella was just short of card-level fame… but now she qualified.
Tella knew exactly what this meant. She gave a small nod.
Once again, she'd outshine the old guard.
Young, middle-aged, and now in the disciple game—they couldn't even see her dust.
Total victory.
Delightful.
Diagon Alley was waking up. Shops opened one by one.
Fairy Tale Shop #77 went from dead quiet to instantly packed in three hours.
This left Fred and George—watching from their own joke shop—completely baffled.
"What do you think, George?"
Fred peeked out the window.
"I'm using the telescope, Fred."
Soon, Fairy Tale Shop was left with just casual Diagon strollers. The swarm of wizards had rushed in, seen the impossible creations, then froze at the price tags.
"No wizard would say no to turning into a dragon—unless his wallet says otherwise."
A blue-robed wizard stared longingly, torn between desire and despair.
Nearly everyone inside looked the same: enough money to want it, not enough to buy it.
They could only watch the cookies sell out.
"The entrance sign says 'Remaining series: ongoing supply'…"
One sharp-eyed wizard caught the terrifying implication.