A bag of British pounds is enclosed with the letter, please help me purchase a few more computers at your convenience. I want to modify these tools in my spare time to make them more suitable for wizards.
Nicolas Flamel's letter to Harry Potter, 2 September, 1992
Harry put away the letter and looked again at that bag of British pounds.
"Oh my, what is this?!"
Hermione exclaimed.
"Look."
Harry took out a bundle of fifty-pound notes from the bag, which weren't actually denominations used in everyday transactions.
"Is this British pounds?!" Hermione asked in a low voice, incredulously looking at the swollen bag that was almost half her size. "So many British pounds... Oh my, Harry, just how wealthy is the friend you've made?"
Seamus came over too. As a half-blood wizard, he certainly knew the purchasing power of British pounds.
Heaven knows, even if his dad worked year after year for more than a decade, he probably wouldn't be able to save up this bag of British pounds.
"I don't know about wealth, but he's certainly richer than me." Harry said honestly.
No matter how inflated he felt, he dared not compare his finances to an alchemist who had lived for over six hundred years.
Heaven knows how much wealth Nicolas Flamel has accumulated over these years.
However... the letter says, Mr. Leme still wants him to buy a few more computers over? And wants to modify computers to be tools suitable for wizards?
Hmm...
Harry found it quite interesting and thought Mr. Leme should give it a try.
"Is this Muggle currency?" Ron leaned over to ask. "Just these little pieces of paper, how much can they be worth?"
Wizards living in the wizarding world don't understand the Muggle world, and in the same way, Muggles living in the Muggle world don't understand wizards.
Ron obviously had no concept of British pounds.
"See?" Hermione pulled out a piece of paper and waved it in front of Ron: "One piece of paper like this is fifty British pounds — you need to know, the exchange rate at Gringotts is five pounds for one Galleon, so think about how much money this really is?"
Ron felt his brain instantly overloaded.
Oh my, one piece of paper is ten Golden Galleons, and so many pieces of paper...
Ron felt he could hardly breathe.
So many Golden Galleons... so many Golden Galleons, how many chicken legs could they buy!!!
"I think I should take some time to go out for a while." Harry folded the letter and tucked it in his coat: "But this money is indeed a bit too much, whatever's left after buying should be returned."
Ron forced himself to pull his eyes away from that bag of money and agreed: "You're right, Harry, we shouldn't covet others' wealth—"
Hearing Ron's words, Harry turned back and gave him a thumbs-up along with a few friends.
Ron scratched his head and laughed sheepishly.
To stay under the radar, Harry quickly stuffed the bag of British pounds into the wallet.
Fortunately, that bag of money was surrounded by friends just now, and the people around didn't notice what was happening here, so nothing caused a stir.
Hmm... since Mr. Leme wants to research, he should provide him with a few more models — he remembers there's also a laptop, which he could buy a few of to give to Mr. Leme.
If this can be figured out, never mind anything else, it would be easy to make money in the wizarding world.
Harry actually wasn't very interested in money, but considering that Vivi's money was all taken away by Gellert, he felt he needed to earn some money to fill Vivi's vault.
"By the way, Harry." Hermione suddenly said, "Digory from Hufflepuff just asked me to ask you, when is our Dueling House starting?"
"The night after tomorrow." Harry said, "Tomorrow night I have to go to Professor Lockhart's place."
"What are you going to do there?" Hermione asked puzzled, "Oh my, Harry, this is such an honor, you really should seize the opportunity..."
"Professor Lockhart wants me to help him write replies to his fan letters." Harry said honestly: "He said he's busy making lesson plans for us and can't keep up, so he can only respond to his fans in this way."
Hearing Harry's word, Hermione clutched her chest.
"Oh my, isn't he thoughtful?"
Ron made a vomiting expression, but didn't let Hermione see.
If she found out, he might get scolded again, Ron wasn't stupid.
"Professor Lockhart also said he'll teach me some techniques to deal with rabid fans." Harry said softly, "I actually didn't want to go, but considering he's teaching this, I decided to learn something because... you know."
Everyone nodded, having witnessed firsthand how annoying Colin Creevey could be.
My goodness, having someone like that waiting around at set times every day was truly suffocating.
Everyone's classmates, they couldn't hit, couldn't yell at them...
Harry also thought, just as well on his way back from writing letters for Professor Lockhart, he could go to the lavatory to drink a bit of Age-Enhancing Potion and have a conversation with Bodrick to notify him about Principal Dumbledore owning the Angel's Feather.
While Harry was planning, Lockhart in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Office turned into an elegant older lady.
Despite looking aged, her demeanor and bearing showed that she must have been an impeccably elegant beauty in her youth.
She was Vida Rozier, a capable officer under Gellert Grindelwald.
Vida spread a piece of parchment on the table and wrote out the plan in detail and specially praised Gellert's vision in discovering an exceptional talent like Harry Potter.
She also went ahead and praised Harry's abilities in all aspects.
The letter stated that Gellert's approach was correct in having her prepare in advance and win over Dumbledore's Golden Boy.
And she attached a photo with Harry, though it appeared as a photo with Lockhart.
After writing, Vida threw the letter into the fireplace.
A moment later, a blue flame ignited in the fireplace and swallowed the letter in one gulp.
...
Austria, Nimongard Castle.
Gellert, who received the letter, wore an iron-green face, sitting there holding that photo, not saying a word.
"Sir, what's wrong?" the concerned wizard behind him asked.
Gellert didn't respond, just waved his hand back.
The wizards obediently withdrew, leaving Gellert alone in the room to contemplate.
After a long time, a blue flame ignited in Gellert's hand, burning the photo to ashes, which scattered throughout the room.
"Heh, Scarhead Enchantress..."
"Do you think... my sister would mourn you?"
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