...

"It's... that's the fifth-year textbook..." Percy mumbled, looking down with a guilty expression.

"Exactly right, Dyroth!" Fred chimed in, stepping forward as Percy struggled to find the words. "We don't have enough gold at the moment to buy you a new one, but our parents are sending money soon. If you're in a rush, you can take mine in the meantime, and I'll get a new one when I can."

Percy, flustered, quickly added, "Or we could offer you some other goods to make up for it!"

Fred winked at Dyroth and grinned. "We've got all sorts of treats—Ton-Tongue Toffee that'll give you a real mouthful, and stink bombs that can clear a classroom for a week!"

"And that's just the beginning..." Fred started, but Dyroth raised his hand.

"Enough," Dyroth said with a laugh, shaking his head. "There's no need for a new book. It's not damaged, and I've already made my notes in it. Switching would just be a hassle."

"But..."

"No 'buts,' Percy," Dyroth insisted, his voice calm and friendly. "If you really want to help, just lend me your old notes. Having a look at a Gryffindor top student's notes is worth more than a new book anyway."

Percy's face lit up with pride. "It's no problem! I'll bring them to you in the morning, right in the Hogwarts hall."

"No rush, Percy. Whenever you're free, I can always come to pick them up."

Percy thought it over, then nodded. "Tomorrow morning it is then. I'll leave you to rest now. Goodnight, Dyroth!"

With that, Percy guided Fred and George away, but Dyroth waited for a few minutes, keeping his eye on the stairs.

Before long, two familiar figures tiptoed their way back into view.

"So, the generous friend sent us a secret invite. Ready to see what we've got on offer?" Fred asked, grinning mischievously.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"We've got the goods," George added, "let me guess what you're after—"

"No need to guess. I'm interested in more than just your products." Dyroth smirked, a glint in his eyes.

George covered his mouth, feigning shock. "Oh no, it's over! Every girl in Hogwarts will be heartbroken!"

Dyroth rolled his eyes. "Is this what makes British humor so famous?" he muttered to himself. Even teenagers are this cheeky.

Fred patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. We won't tell anyone."

"Back to business," Dyroth said, regaining focus, "I called you here to discuss a... partnership. Or more precisely, an investment."

Fred and George exchanged surprised glances, a spark of excitement in their eyes. They could hardly believe what they were hearing. For years, no one had ever taken their products seriously. Their pranks had earned more scolding than praise, especially from their mother and the professors.

Dyroth continued, gauging their reactions carefully. "Your products have potential. With the right funding, you could take them to the next level. I'm willing to invest."

Fred and George's faces lit up as Dyroth stretched out five fingers.

"Five galleons..." George murmured, his voice hopeful.

"No, fifty," Dyroth corrected.

"Fifty?" Fred gasped, almost in disbelief.

Dyroth handed them a heavy bag of gold. "This is just the first batch. I'll cover all your materials and experiment costs going forward. In return, I get a backup of whatever you invent, and we split the profits 50/50."

Fred and George were speechless. They pinched themselves to make sure they weren't dreaming before enveloping Dyroth in a tight hug.

"George, this isn't a dream! Mr. Grindelwald is actually willing to back us!"

"We won't have to hide or sneak around anymore!" Fred said with excitement as if their entire world had shifted.

"And that's not all," Dyroth added. "After you graduate, you can come and work for me. I'll even set up a joke shop for you to run."

"Merlin's socks, today's our lucky day!" Fred exclaimed, almost dancing in joy.

Dyroth smiled at the sight. It wasn't just a kind gesture. He knew full well that the Weasley twins' mischief could become the flagship of his future business ventures.

As they discussed further plans, Dyroth stretched, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders. "It's getting late. How about we—"

"—have a midnight snack?" George cut in with a raised eyebrow.

Dyroth rubbed his belly, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. "You read my mind. Where do you suggest?"

"The Hogwarts kitchen, of course!" Fred said, as if it were obvious.

Fred and George led Dyroth through secret passages, their excitement palpable.

Halfway through the journey, Dyroth began to regret agreeing. Is it really worth sneaking out in the dead of night for food?

But before long, they reached a brightly lit stone corridor. At the end hung a painting of a fruit bowl. Fred approached it confidently and tickled a pear.

With a soft giggle, the pear transformed into a green door handle.

Fred twisted it open and grinned. "Welcome to the Hogwarts kitchen, Mr. Grindelwald."

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