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When the conversation wound down, Arthur called a servant who brought out several folders and presented them to Augusta, Cyrus, Harry, and the others. At the Yule Ball two days ago, Harry had brokered a deal with Cyrus. The Greengrass family, with generations in logistics and supplying ingredients, was exactly what Harry needed to bolster his potion-making endeavors. Although Cyrus was impressed, he initially didn't have the available ingredients to support Harry's needs. That's when Harry introduced the Longbottoms into the equation, and now it was time to go over the details of their collaboration.
Harry opened the folder handed to him, his eyes scanning the contract. The Longbottoms would supply the herbs, the Greengrasses would provide other ingredients and handle the selling, while Harry would be responsible for crafting all the potions. It was a partnership that leveraged the strengths of each party.
"Let's see," Harry murmured, calculating the percentages in his head. "If the Longbottoms are supplying the herbs, which are crucial for the potion's efficacy, I'd say they should get a significant share. Say, 25%?" He looked up at Arthur, who nodded in agreement.
Cyrus chimed in, "Considering we're handling distribution and acquiring other necessary ingredients, 35% for the Greengrass family seems fair. It's quite the task to ensure everything is in place for the potions to be made and sold."
Harry nodded, "That leaves 40% for me. I'll be doing the potion making, after all. It's a lot of work but absolutely worth it if we get this right." He glanced at the contract again, ensuring the numbers added up and reflected the effort each party was putting in.
Augusta, who had been listening intently, added, "This arrangement seems equitable. It's important that each party's contribution is recognized. The Longbottoms are happy to provide the best quality herbs. Our gardens are more than capable of meeting the demand."
Cyrus, with a thoughtful look, agreed. "And the Greengrass logistics network will ensure that the potions reach every corner of Britain. We'll also handle any negotiations with apothecaries and potion shops."
Harry, satisfied with the arrangement, looked up from the contract. "It's settled then. We each have our roles and responsibilities."
Nigel, who had been quiet for a moment, couldn't help but add his own spin, "Ah, revolutionizing potion-making, are we? Just be sure not to blow anything up in the process, Master Harry. I'm not sure the contract covers explosion damages."
Harry chuckled, "I'll try to keep the explosions to a minimum, Nigel. No promises, though."
Arthur, smiling at the future profits, extended his hand to Harry, "It's a deal, then. The Longbottoms are proud to be part of this venture."
Susan couldn't help but express her concern, "Harry, can you really manage such a vast potion production on your own? You have classes, Quidditch, and other things..."
Tracey, echoing Susan's sentiment, added, "It seems like a lot to handle."
Harry, with a chuckle, assured them, "Don't worry ladies, I've a trick up my slave. It might seem like a lot, but I've got everything under control."
His assurance seemed to calm the room, and even Augusta, Arthur, and Cyrus, who had initially shown signs of worry, seemed to trust Harry's confidence. After all, Harry had committed himself, and his word carried weight.
With the business discussions concluded, everyone moved inside for dinner, marking the transition from formal agreements to the warm hospitality of the Longbottoms. The table was laid out with meticulous care, showcasing an array of dishes that spoke volumes of the Longbottom family's dedication to making their guests feel welcomed and valued. Each dish, from the succulent roast to the finely seasoned vegetables, was prepared with a touch of magic, enhancing both flavor and presentation.
Harry, taking his seat among the assembled guests, couldn't help but appreciate the effort that went into the meal. "This looks incredible," he remarked, eyeing a particularly appetizing dish of magically seasoned potatoes that seemed to shimmer with a light all their own.
Nigel quipped, "I do hope you remember to eat with your mouth closed, Master Harry. We wouldn't want to give the Longbottoms the impression that we were raised by wolves, now would we? With your howlings and chirpings lately, I really started to think it is the case."
Rolling his eyes at Nigel's remark, Harry focused back on the conversation at the table. Augusta had just asked Susan about her favorite subject at Hogwarts, to which Susan responded with a smile, "Charms, definitely." Her eyes flickered towards Harry as she spoke, and he wondered briefly if her choice had anything to do with them sharing the class together, or if it was merely a coincidence.
Nigel whispered in Harry's mind, "Charms, eh? Perhaps a subtle charm has been cast, making the class more appealing. Or is it the company, Master Harry?"
Harry ignored Nigel's insinuation, instead engaging in the conversation. "Charms is fascinating," he contributed. "It's amazing what you can achieve with just the right flick and swish."
Susan nodded, her gaze lingering on Harry a moment longer than necessary before she turned back to Augusta. "Yes, and Professor Flitwick is such a brilliant teacher. His enthusiasm makes every class exciting."
Augusta smiled warmly at Susan's words. "It's important to find joy in learning. Magic is a gift, and understanding how to wield it properly can bring about wonders."
The conversation shifted as Cyrus Greengrass chimed in, expressing his appreciation for the more practical applications of magic, particularly in the business world. "Understanding the nuances of potion-making and the intricacies of magical contracts requires a deep knowledge of various subjects, including Charms."
Harry listened intently, his mind weaving through the implications of their discussion. It was clear that magic touched every aspect of their lives, from the simplest household charm to the most complex business dealings.
As the evening approached and the guests started to leave, Harry made his way to bid them farewell. The atmosphere was filled with warm goodbyes and promises to meet again. Once everyone had departed and only Petunia and Harry remained, Harry turned to Augusta Longbottom with a thoughtful expression. "Lady Longbottom, may I have a moment of your time in private, please?" he asked, his tone respectful yet firm.
The request caught Neville and the others by surprise, but Augusta, sensing the seriousness in Harry's voice, nodded in agreement. Together, they walked to her study, a room filled with the history and achievements of the Longbottom family. Augusta took her place behind her desk, gesturing for Harry to sit opposite her.
Once settled, Harry didn't waste any time. "Lady Longbottom, I've observed Neville in our classes and noticed the wand he's using. If I'm not mistaken, it belongs to his father. However, it's clear that the wand isn't compatible with him. I believe you've seen this too. So, my question is, why would you want Neville to struggle?" Harry's voice carried a weight of genuine concern, devoid of any accusation.
Augusta, taken aback by the question, paused to consider her words carefully. "Harry, it's not a matter of wanting Neville to fail," she began, her voice reflecting a mix of sorrow and determination. "It's about tradition and the belief that using his father's wand would somehow connect him to the strength and courage his father exhibited."
Harry's expression darkened as he spoke, "Respectfully, Lady Longbottom, Neville is his own person, not a mere reflection of his father. Pressuring him into a predetermined mold won't change that."
Agusta's brows knit together in disagreement, "Mr. Potter, I believe the family should have a say in Neville's future."
Rising from his seat, Harry countered firmly, "No, Lady Longbottom, it's not just the family's decision. Neville is my God Brother, and I have a right to be concerned about him. The wand selects its owner, not the other way around."
Agusta interjected, her tone resolute, "No. It is not that the wand picks the wizard, but the wand maketh wizard. Neville, with his father's wand, will become as great as him."
Harry insisted. "Neville isn't Frank. The more you impose, the more he'll struggle. He needs the freedom to discover his own path, to wield his potential in a way that honors his own identity, not just his family's legacy."
Augusta wanted to protest, but as she thought, she realized she was trying to turn Neville into Frank himself. The realization struck her harder than she expected, making her reevaluate her stance on the matter. She looked at Harry, seeing not just a young wizard but someone deeply concerned for Neville's well-being.
"You're right, Harry," Augusta conceded after ten minutes of silence and a heavy sigh, her voice softer now, tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've been so focused on preserving our family's legacy that I may have overlooked what's truly best for Neville. It's just that... losing Frank and Alice was a blow from which I've never fully recovered. I thought that by holding onto these traditions, I could somehow keep their memory alive."
Harry nodded, understanding the depth of her pain. "I know it's hard, Lady Longbottom, but Neville needs to carve out his own path. And he needs the right tools to do so, starting with a wand that chooses him."
Augusta sighed, a look of resignation crossing her face. "Very well, Harry. I'll take Neville to Ollivanders as soon as possible. It's time he had a wand of his own."
Harry smiled, relieved. "Thank you. It means a lot to both Neville and me."
As they stood to leave the study, Nigel couldn't resist commenting, "Well, that was a rather stirring speech, Master Harry. Who knew you had it in you? A regular Cicero, minus the toga, of course."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Thanks, Nigel. I think."
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