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Chapter 25: Reactions
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 15:21:01 +0000 UTCAfter Ryan left, the whispers didn’t take long to explode. Almost everyone had overheard his conversation/pitch/advertisement to Alicia.
“Do you really think it’s worth two hundred and fifty?”
“That’s what he said! But did you see how it wrote in the air?”
“I want one. The eight-galleon one, obviously. Should I go talk to him?”
At the Slytherin table, fifth-year Lucius Malfoy didn’t say anything at first. He only watched the scene with one eyebrow slightly raised.
“You can’t deny the boy knows how to put on a show,” he finally murmured.
Even they had overheard Ryan, thanks to his louder tone.
Rodolphus Lestrange lazily stirred his spoon inside his coffee cup. “Don’t underestimate theatrics. When something looks expensive, people assume it is for a reason. Sometimes all they need is someone to say it with enough confidence.”
Mulciber, with his mouth full of toast, cut in, “But enchanted quills that write in the air aren’t new. Scribbulus sells similar models. What’s the difference? I saw several on the train.”
Lucius Malfoy turned his face just slightly, not even bothering to look at him directly.
“Are you an idiot, Mulciber? Those quills are probably ones he sells himself as the producer. He distributes them to the shops, keeps the supplier’s margin… and now he’s building an image. What you saw today, besides a sale, was a branding strategy.”
Evan Rosier nodded.
“The griffin feather was over the top, yes, but his reasoning was solid. An eagle feather is worth… I think half a galleon. And he sold the enchanted one for eight. Thirteen times the base value, maybe more. If the griffin feather costs twenty, the math comes to around two hundred and sixty. And if he adds twice as many enchantments… three hundred isn’t as absurd as it sounds.”
Rodolphus nodded, thoughtful. “A crazy price, yes. But not incoherent. And while everyone thinks he’s exaggerating… he’s already made eight galleons.”
Rabastan gave a nasal laugh. “The best part is there are idiots who buy it. Eight galleons for a quill? By Merlin. Not even if it cleaned the ink by itself.”
A female voice broke in, low but clear enough to silence the laughter. “Eight galleons for a magical quill that’s a new invention isn’t expensive.”
Everyone turned their heads. Andromeda Black, immaculate, her teacup still steaming in her hands, looked at them with a serene, almost indifferent expression.
“Especially if the quill has new effects, with real utility, and isn’t just another useless decorative trinket like the ones some people here tend to buy with money they didn’t earn.”
The jab hit Rabastan’s ego squarely, and he frowned. “You bought one?”
“Yes,” Andromeda answered without raising her voice. “Weeks ago. I was at Scribbulus buying school supplies with Narcissa when Mr. Perks bought Ollivander’s first lot: ten units, seven galleons each. Seventy galleons in less than ten minutes.”
“So they are useful…?” Evan muttered, surprised.
He had seen a few students with the quills on the train, and now Ryan had just sold one to a Gryffindor girl. But he hadn’t thought the demand would be that strong.
“What do you think?” Andromeda said. “That veteran merchants in Diagon Alley spent that much money out of charity? They’re not idiots. If Perks bought ten so quickly, it’s because he knew there’d be demand. And like you, I already saw several students on the train with those quills.”
Mulciber, still confused, frowned. “But it’s still just a quill…”
Before anyone could reply, a new voice cut in. Dry, slightly offended.
“One that lets you write in the air without paper, ink, or active magic. Do you know another like it?”
All eyes turned to Narcissa Black, seated beside her sister, as poised as ever with her hands folded over her lap. Her tone wasn’t defiant… but it was cold enough to freeze Mulciber’s comment in place.
“I bought one too,” she continued, without changing her posture. “I used it all summer to practice wand movements, runes, and spell structures without wasting parchment or magic. It’s useful.”
Rabastan twisted his mouth. “But it’s just an eagle quill worth—”
“An enchanted eagle quill that writes faster is worth five galleons,” Narcissa cut him off with sharp precision. “I saw you have one. Are you stupid? Why do you spend five galleons on an enchanted eagle quill? Just to write two seconds faster? Then who’s really being swindled?”
Rabastan opened his mouth but failed to form an immediate reply.
“Now that you understand how illogical your argument is, I’ll continue. As my sister said,” Narcissa added, still without raising her tone, “it’s a new invention. It has more utility than ornament, and that’s why its price is higher. That doesn’t make it a scam. So if you’re going to give an opinion, do it with real arguments or remain silent.”
The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
Evan Rosier stifled a chuckle but couldn’t hide his amused smile. He brought his teacup to his lips as if to hide behind the rim, clearly enjoying the scene.
Mulciber, visibly uneasy, sank a little into his seat, trying to look indifferent. But his clenched jaw and the way he avoided Narcissa’s gaze betrayed him.
Rabastan, for his part, pretended not to be affected. He raised his eyebrows as if the conversation were trivial, but the tension in his shoulders and the faint blush on his cheeks spoke for themselves.
After all, Narcissa was only a fourth-year. And she had just left them without a comeback.
Andromeda, beside her, allowed herself the faintest of smiles, a small but genuine gesture, full of satisfaction. Her little sister had spoken with elegance, logic… and edge. She didn’t need protection. She knew how to defend herself.
Narcissa hadn’t defended Ryan. She hadn’t needed to. What she had done was defend herself. She had bought one of those quills. She had used it. It had served her. She wasn’t about to stay quiet while some idiot with no arguments accused her, indirectly, of having been swindled.
And though she didn’t share the same opinion about the griffin quill, which, with its supposed “offer” of two hundred and fifty galleons, seemed to her nothing more than madness disguised as luxury, that didn’t invalidate the value of the original. The one she had purchased.
Back at the Gryffindor table, Dorcas was examining the quill Alicia had just bought from Ryan.
“It really is just a common eagle quill, but it writes in the air without ink…” Dorcas said, still surprised, as she gave it a try: she wrote in floating letters: "Ryan Ollivander greedy."
Then she erased it with the tip, watching it vanish with a soft emerald glow. She wrote it again, just to be sure.
“Maybe he is greedy, but he’s no amateur,” Celeste remarked, resting her elbow on the table with a focused expression. “Did you see how he moved? Every gesture, every pause, the tone of his voice… it was like watching a play with commercial intent. Even the Slytherins were watching.”
“He looked like a walking advertisement,” said Emmeline, who had witnessed it firsthand.
“And it worked,” said Alicia with a grimace, turning her head to glance at the rest of the table.
The murmur was unmistakable: the entire Gryffindor table, and even a few from Ravenclaw, were talking about Ryan Ollivander, about the quills that wrote in the air, and especially about the hippogriff quill. Not because of its functions… but because of its outrageous price: 250 galleons “on offer."
Some students were already checking their pockets, pulling out coin purses, and doing mental math out loud while biting into toast.
“Yes, he literally hooked the whole table,” said Dorcas, still waving the quill through the air. She had written her name three times just to see it float. “Emmeline already has one. Alicia just bought hers. And I… I’m tempted. It’s not just useful, it’s… relaxing.”
Marlene, who had remained quiet until then, tilted her head slightly. “At least now he charges for manipulating. Before, he used to do it for free.”
"…"
It was Dorcas who broke the silence, as always. “Well, manipulative or not… the bastard knows how to sell.”
Just then, a small group of first-years, two girls and a boy, nervous, their robes still a little too long, approached Emmeline and Alicia.
“Hi… excuse us,” said the bravest one, her voice trembling.
“Yes?” Emmeline asked, raising an eyebrow with her usual neutral tone.
“Do you know where Ryan Ollivander will be after the first period classes? We want… we want to see if we can buy one of those magic quills.”
Emmeline stared at them for a second, incredulous.
That little improvised act was already bearing fruit, all because Alicia had bought a quill from him.
She sighed through her nose, then answered in a calm tone, “Classroom 3-C. Ground floor, west side of the central courtyard. Our class ends at 10:30. I’ll tell him to wait for you, since he’s not one to stay in one place…”
The three kids nodded as if she had just given them a secret password.
“Thanks!” they said in unison, before running off.
Celeste raised her eyebrows, amused. “Whoa, Emmeline. First you gave us such a good review of the quills it sounded like you worked on Ryan’s marketing team… and now you’re organizing people like his personal secretary.”
Emmeline took a sip of tea, her expression unchanged. “I just don’t want them wasting time looking for someone who can’t stay put for more than two minutes.”
“Uh-huh. And when he starts his company, you’ll be his head of PR, right?” Dorcas teased, while writing in the air with her quill:
"Emmeline Vance, founding partner."
“If he pays me,” Emmeline replied dryly, “maybe.”
Just then Fabian and Gideon Prewett arrived at the hall, followed by Callum and Jamie, their faces still a little sleepy and hair tousled from their pillows. They sat down between laughter, gentle shoves, and half-stifled yawns.
“What’d we miss?” Fabian asked as he started eating in a hurry, clearly racing against the clock.
“Why is the whole table talking about Ryan?” Jamie asked, frowning. “We’ve been hearing his name since the doorway.”
Gideon raised an eyebrow and looked at Dorcas, who at that moment was writing in the air with an elegant-looking quill. Emerald-green letters floated neatly above the breakfast spread:
"Good morning, half-asleep Prewetts"
“Are you doing that?” Gideon asked.
Dorcas smiled. “No, the quill is. Enchanted. It’s one of Ryan’s inventions. And yes, he’s selling them. Alicia bought one a few minutes ago.”
Alicia, beside her, gently took the quill back from Dorcas and carefully placed it in her case. No way she was lending it to boys she knew didn’t even take care of their own things.
“What? Seriously?” the four of them said in unison, visibly baffled.
“Yes. Why would I lie?” Dorcas shot back with a crooked smile, enjoying their surprise.
“I saw some on the train…” Callum muttered, remembering. “I didn’t think they were his. I thought it was one of those new things Flourish & Blotts was selling.”
“They are selling them at Flourish & Blotts, but he must’ve struck a deal with the owner to put them there…” said Emmeline, who had bought hers at the shop.
“Incredible,” Gideon said. “Maybe his grandfather taught him some kind of craft trick,” he added, summoning a glass of juice that appeared out of nowhere on the table.
“And how much did he charge you?” Fabian asked, narrowing his eyes at Jamie.
“Eight galleons,” Alicia answered calmly.
Fabian blinked. “Eight?”
“Special price for being a prefect,” Alicia added flatly.
“And those golden letters?” Callum asked, pointing with his spoon toward a floating spot in the hall. A few meters away, words glimmered in the air:
"If you want your quill, look for Ryan Ollivander."
Several heads were crowding around it as though it were a prophecy revealed by a seer.
“Hippogriff quill,” Celeste explained with theatrical flair. “Double duration, limited edition, touch of natural genius… and two hundred and fifty galleons. On sale.”
The four of them stared at her as if she had just said Ryan had bought the Hogwarts Express.
“That’s a joke,” Callum said.
“That’s what we all thought. But he didn’t seem to be joking,” Dorcas murmured, still intrigued.
Gideon burst out laughing.
“And you bought that one too?”
“Merlin, no,” Alicia said firmly. “I stuck with the regular one. Though I have to admit, he sold the idea like he was auctioning off gold in the middle of a war.”
“Ryan Ollivander, star salesman,” Fabian said, chuckling. “Never thought I’d say that without sarcasm.”
It was then that Emmeline, who had been silent for the last few minutes, asked in a casual tone, though her eyes never left the floating letters:
“Did any of you see him this morning? Did he wake up with you?”
Gideon shook his head almost immediately. “No. When we got up, his bed was exactly the same as last night. Not a single crease. Like he never slept there.”
“Hm…” Emmeline said, lowering her gaze for a moment. “Interesting.”
She didn’t say it with excitement, but not with indifference either. It was… a mental note.
She stood up gracefully, adjusting her school scarf. “I’m leaving. It’s almost time, and you’re too loud for this early in the morning,” she said, looking specifically at Gideon and the boys.
“Thanks!” Fabian said with his mouth full.
“You’re welcome,” Emmeline replied, without turning back.
And she left the Great Hall with steady steps, leaving behind a brief silence.
“Is it just me, or does it seem like Emmeline’s very interested in Ryan lately? And by lately, I mean the last twenty-four hours…” Dorcas blurted out without filter, turning to look at the others.
Celeste laughed, Alicia pressed her lips together with a thoughtful grimace.
“You mean the free marketing she gives him? Or surviving eight hours in the same compartment without killing him?”
“All of that,” Dorcas replied. “And now that question about whether he slept in his bed. Who cares about that… unless you’re watching closely?”
“Maybe she’s interested as a businesswoman,” Fabian said through a mouthful. “Or maybe she’s worried he’s swindling people, he could.”
“It’s not just that,” Celeste murmured. “Emmeline never gets involved with anyone. She always keeps her distance. Even with us, and we’ve shared a dorm since first year.”
“Yeah,” Alicia said, lowering her voice a little. “She… never really opened up. Not out of malice, just… that’s how she is.”
Marlene set her coffee cup carefully back on its saucer. “I know her well. And if she’s paying attention to Ryan, it’s because she’s analyzing him.”
“Analyzing?” Gideon repeated.
“Yes. Emmeline doesn’t get carried away. She observes. Thinks. Calculates. If Ryan did something that caught her attention, she’ll follow it until she understands it.”
Jamie scratched the back of his neck, confused. “And is that good… or bad for him?”
“I don’t know…”
