"Let me call you Henry." Dumbledore placed two cups of lemon honey tea on the table, gesturing for Hoare to sit down.

Hoare took the cup handed to him, nodded, and took a big sip before expressing his gratitude, "Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Dumbledore winked at him with his blue eyes.

"If I'm not mistaken, this potion is meant for Squibs, isn't it?" Dumbledore sipped his tea and spoke leisurely.

"Yes." Hoare wasn't surprised, after all, the man in front of him was the greatest white wizard in history.

"Would you mind telling an old man like me why you came up with such an idea?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.

"Because..." Hoare looked up and met Dumbledore's gaze, "I used to be a Squib."

Hoare's words surprised not only Dumbledore but also all the portraits hanging on the walls.

The figures in the portraits, upon hearing Hoare's words, pressed their ears tightly against the edges of their frames, wishing they could lift their frames and move closer to the table to listen more closely.

"I'm very sorry, I took the liberty of asking Severus to call Mr. Filch over. If you don't want to..." Knowing Hoare's situation, Dumbledore naturally assumed that Hoare's potion was intended for himself.

"No, I was planning to ask Mr. Filch for help anyway," Hoare explained. "I've fully regained my magic now, so I can't test the potion on myself."

"I thank you on their behalf." Dumbledore's expression was unusually serious as he said this.

He didn't press Hoare on how he regained his magic, and Hoare was grateful to the old man for that.

"Henry, with young people like you, I see a brighter future for the wizarding world. You have ideas, creativity, and the ability to execute them. The future of the wizarding world belongs to you." As Dumbledore spoke, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

"I believe in you, Henry! This potion will become a treasure of the world."

"Perhaps we really can achieve peaceful coexistence with the Muggle world."

Hoare could tell that old Dumbledore was painting a rosy picture for him, and it was getting more and more outrageous!

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The higher the pedestal, the greater the responsibility, and the more sacrifices required.

I am Hoare Weasley, not Peter Parker.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, you've misunderstood. I'm not doing this for free." Hoare quickly interrupted to stop Dumbledore from continuing to paint the picture, lest he end up being part of the world merger.

"What do you want?" A glint of darkness flashed in Dumbledore's eyes.

Throughout his life, too many people had wanted something from him, like Tom and Gellert. He was a bit curious about what this young man in front of him wanted.

"Money," Hoare stated bluntly.

"What?" Dumbledore rubbed his ears, feeling as if he had heard something unbelievable.

"Oh, I mean Galleons, Gold-Galleons." Hoare fished a Gold-Galleon out of his pocket and showed it to Dumbledore, grinning brightly. "Lots of them, shiny and yellow, even better."

Dumbledore chuckled, "Well... well done, young man."

"Rest assured, if this potion works as we hope, I'll pay you 500 Galleons." Dumbledore removed his half-moon glasses and wiped them silently, feeling as if his glasses were a bit foggy.

"Headmaster, 500 Galleons seems a bit low. This is a life-saving potion," Hoare said, slightly dissatisfied with the price.

"Oh, as far as I know, you're doing this without any cost, using the school's materials," Dumbledore said, pacing back to his headmaster's chair and sitting down slowly, his eyes fixed sharply on Hoare.

"The school's materials are free, but without my invention and production, those materials would remain just materials," Hoare countered, pulling up a chair to sit opposite Dumbledore, refusing to lose in momentum.

"Child, you certainly have ideas, but can you tell this old man, is it you or Henry who has the ability?" Dumbledore's words were blunt, essentially asking Hoare if he wanted to become famous.

"I'm a student of Hogwarts, certified by the school," Hoare replied, not intending to reveal his identity or give credit to Henry.

"Oh, I see, my child."

"Let's not beat around the bush. If you sell this potion to the school, I, this old man, promise that the creator of this potion will remain unknown to anyone but me and Snape until you give permission," Dumbledore vowed solemnly.

Hoare hesitated for a moment, then placed the potion bottle on the table. "1,000 Galleons, it's worth that price."

"As for anything else, let's discuss it after you've seen its effects," Hoare added. "I hope you can use Hogwarts as a guarantee. It's not that I don't trust you, but I trust Hogwarts more, as it's currently protecting me."

"Deal. That's the price for this potion." Dumbledore picked up the potion from the table, pondering for a moment.

Using Hogwarts as a guarantee was a first, but there's a first time for everything. He believed Hogwarts would understand this old man's decision.

He placed a small cloth pouch on the table with a thud, indicating it was quite substantial.

As expected of old Dumbledore, straightforward and decisive.

Hoare was very satisfied as he opened his coin pouch, ready to welcome the Galleons flying out of Dumbledore's pouch.

This potion, with simple materials but a different production method, could indeed cause the upheaval Dumbledore mentioned if widely adopted.

Such upheaval was not something an eleven-year-old could bear.

If possible, Hoare only wanted to remain behind the scenes.

Responsibilities and obligations, aside from those to family and friends, were not something he wished to shoulder.

As for why he wanted Dumbledore to see the effects before discussing anything else, it was to leverage the price.

The two of them exchanged knowing smiles.

They shared some of Dumbledore's private stash of Honeydukes candies, including large creamy yellow almond toffees, glistening pink coconut ice, honey-colored toffees, and a big tub of fizzing whizbees.

After they had eaten their fill, Snape arrived with Filch.

Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts.

He was responsible for maintaining the school's safety and order and punishing students who broke the rules.

Most importantly, and the reason he was here, he was a Squib.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I heard you were looking for me." Filch followed behind Snape, standing with a nervous and ingratiating tone, his eyes darting around.

"My dear Mr. Filch, I need your help." Dumbledore approached and shook Filch's hand.

Hoare felt that Filch was almost moved to tears. "No, no, Headmaster Dumbledore, it's my honor to help you. Just tell me what you need."

Dumbledore explained the potion situation to Filch, assuring him, "Rest assured, Snape has already checked and tested it, with no side effects."

"R-really? Can I really have magic?" Filch looked at Dumbledore in disbelief, tears welling in his eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore, you're not lying to me, are you? Is this real? Can I really do it?"