This was something utterly ridiculous.
Ron clearly hated Link so much, and yet, he was still thinking about getting a job at the factory Link had set up.
But in reality, that was actually understandable, even reasonable.
After all, Ron was broke.
He was so poor that he had to read The Daily Prophet over Harry and Hermione's shoulders. As for snacks and toys? Forget about it.
As for working at George and Fred's factory, that was truly out of the question.
No one knew better than Ron how much of a scam his two brothers' business was.
George and Fred had even snatched back the Galleon they'd paid him for helping pass along a message back when he became a prefect, saying afterward, "You didn't actually do anything useful, did you?"
The workshop they ran was basically a sweatshop, miserable pay and actual danger to your life.
'Only a fool would work there!'
———
So, for the sake of a few Galleons, Ron came to the M.O.M.H.L. factory instead.
Of course, whether he would actually end up working here depended on whether the pay and benefits Link and John had announced earlier were real or not.
Full of doubt, Ron stared at the bulletin board in front of him.
It was covered with dozens of job postings, but what first caught his eye were the large, bolded numbers after the top few positions, "10 Sickles/hour," printed in big, clear letters.
"One Galleon equals 17 Sickles, equals 493 Knuts. That means if I work just two hours a day, I can earn one Galleon and three Sickles? Merlin's beard! The waitress at the ice cream parlor in Diagon Alley only makes ten Galleons a week! So if I work just seventeen hours here, I'll make as much as she does in a whole week?"
Ron's heartbeat suddenly sped up, blood rushing to his head until he felt dizzy.
But the excitement quickly faded into disappointment.
Because all those "top-paying jobs" at the top of the board had already been crossed out.
Which meant they were full, no openings left.
"I knew it! Totally false advertising. There's no way a student part-time job pays more than a full-time worker! Link's no different from George and Fred, birds of a feather, all of them!"
Ron muttered under his breath.
At that moment, though, a large hand landed suddenly on his shoulder.
"Ah!"
Ron jumped straight into the air from fright, only to spin around and see an older Hufflepuff girl staring at him in equal shock.
She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she had a stunning figure, tall, curvy, confident, the kind of girl most guys couldn't take their eyes off.
Unfortunately, Ron was far too spooked right now to notice any of that.
"Uh! Sorry, I scared you," the girl said, recovering first. She gave an apologetic smile and introduced herself.
"I'm Gregory from the M.O.M.H.L. factory's Human Resources Department. I saw you staring at the notice board for a while and thought I'd say hello. Are you here looking for a job?"
"No, no, no! I'm not, I wasn't, you've got it wrong!"
Ron's face flushed red. He yanked his scarf up to cover himself and waved his hands in denial.
Heavens have mercy.
He had deliberately gotten up early just to come here before anyone he knew could spot him. His plan was to quietly check things out first, then, if it looked good, maybe come back later in disguise to actually work.
But before he could even finish scouting, he'd already run into one of the factory employees.
'What do I do, what do I do?' he panicked. 'She works for Link! If she tells him I came here, I'm finished! No, I have to get out of here!'
In a fluster, Ron spun around to leave.
But Gregory, the HR girl, grabbed him firmly by the arm.
"Don't be in such a hurry, junior," she said, eyes gleaming like Galleons as her tone turned coaxing.
"You're already here, right? Why not let me at least show you what positions are available? If you really don't want any after hearing me out, you can leave then."
Ron turned his head away, waving his hands repeatedly.
"No need, no need. I already looked, all the positions are full anyway."
"Who said they're full?" Gregory frowned in confusion, but then turned to glance at the top of the board, at the high-paying jobs Ron had been staring at. Realization dawned.
"Oh, you meant those positions! Come on, the factory's been open for over a week, of course those got snatched up first. But don't worry, there are still some slightly lower-paying ones open. Come on, I'll show you."
Naturally, Ron didn't want to go, and struggled to pull free.
But Gregory seemed surprisingly strong and simply dragged him to another notice board.
"Here! How about this one? Enchanter for Wizard's Chess sets, 7 Sickles per hour."
At that, Ron froze mid-struggle. He turned stiffly, voice trembling.
"Seven Sickles… an hour? Is that real?"
It was a stupid question, the words were printed right there in black and white.
Still, Gregory smiled and explained, "Of course! But that job requires an Outstanding in your Charms O.W.L. and a decent grasp of Alchemy. Preferably, you'd be taking N.E.W.T.-level Alchemy courses too."
"I'm only in fifth year. I haven't taken my O.W.L.s yet."
"Really?" Gregory blinked in surprise. "You don't look that young."
Ron ducked his head, blushing. He thought she was complimenting him for looking mature.
"My mistake," Gregory said quickly, then pointed to another listing.
"Then how about this one, Foxglove Venom Neutralizer Mixer, 6 Sickles an hour. You'll just need to pass a hands-on test first, successfully brew three batches in a row and you're hired."
"Uh, that… that one's not really my thing."
Ron said weakly, lowering his head even further. Foxglove Neutralizer was a pretty simple potion, but as a bottom-tier Potions student, his brewing success rate was pathetic.
He had never regretted not studying harder as much as he did now.
If only he'd listened to Hermione and actually paid attention in Potions class, that 6-Sickle-per-hour job could've been his.
Gregory didn't catch his real thoughts. Seeing his pitiful expression, she comforted him instead.
"That's okay! There are other jobs, just not as well-paid, and maybe a bit tougher."
She scanned the board again before saying thoughtfully, "Hmm… Potion Ingredient Processor, 5 Sickles per hour. Only basic knowledge of Potions required. You could handle that, right?"
Then, leaning in close to his ear, she whispered, "Also, for safety reasons, each workstation is completely enclosed, so you don't have to worry about anyone finding out you're working here."
Ron had been looking a bit more hopeful up until that last line. Then suddenly every hair on his body stood on end. He stared at her, horrified.
"How… how did you know that?"
"Hehehe, " Gregory covered her mouth and giggled.
"You're not the first shy student afraid your classmates will laugh at you for getting a part-time job. But honestly, what's so bad about it? What do you actually lose if someone teases you a little?"
"We're not breaking any laws or hurting anyone. There's nothing wrong with earning money through our own hard work! Being broke, that's what really hurts. Work a few days, then go have a feast in Hogsmeade, or buy a gift for your parents. Wouldn't that feel great?"
Ron stared blankly at her. He'd never heard anyone talk like that before.
But he couldn't deny it, her words struck a chord.
Especially "Being broke is what really hurts."
He thought of all the times he'd suffered because he didn't have pocket money, and suddenly his nose stung. He nodded firmly.
"You're right. There's nothing shameful about earning your own money!"
Gregory's eyes lit up.
"So that means you'll take the job?"
At this point, Ron couldn't bring himself to refuse anymore. He nodded again.
"Alright! Fantastic!"
Gregory cheered, grabbed his hand, and dragged him into the nearby HR office. Moving quickly, she pulled a parchment contract from a drawer and set it before him.
"Sign here, and here's where you put your handprint. Here, use this ink…"
Ron, still flustered, followed her lead and signed everything she pointed to, barely glancing at the text.
He probably should've, but right now his brain was too full of other things, like the fact that Gregory, this pretty upperclassman, was still holding his hand… and had earlier leaned in close to whisper in his ear.
Just remembering the warm breath brushing against his ear made goosebumps rise all over his arms.
While Ron was lost in his thoughts, Gregory finished processing the contract.
She smiled sweetly and pointed toward the door.
"All done! Mr. Weasley, your workshop is the third room on the right after you step outside. Just pick any workstation and get started. Oh, and don't worry, every station has its own timer and counter. You'll be paid for every single Knut you earn."
And with that, Gregory cheerfully pushed Ron out the door, and before he could stammer out a word, she slammed it shut.
Bang!
As the door closed, Gregory let out a long sigh of relief, flicked the parchment in her hand, and said happily, "Another fool tricked, that's another 2 Sickle commission for me! Hehe, perfect."
With that, she tucked the contract away, poured herself a cup of coffee, propped her long legs up on the desk, and started slacking off without a care in the world.
Meanwhile, Ron, standing out in the hallway, had no idea what had just happened behind the door.
He stared blankly at the closed office, his overheated brain cooling fast. After a long moment, he trudged numbly to the right.
It wasn't until he stepped into the classroom Gregory had pointed him to that he finally began to snap out of his daze.
Four neat rows of workstations stretched before him.
Gregory hadn't lied, each one was separated by dark wooden panels, with only a small opening facing the aisle.
Since it was still early, Ron was the only one there.
At this point, there was no turning back. With a sigh, he walked to the most secluded workstation at the back.
The door to the cubicle closed automatically behind him, giving him a faint sense of safety at last.
He looked around and noticed that the walls were stocked with a full set of potion-handling tools, even spares for things like dragonhide gloves, which often tore easily. Very different from George and Fred's workshop, where workers had to bring their own gear.
There were even two buttons on either side of the empty metal workbench, one red, one gold. The red was labeled "Request Materials", the gold "Submit Product."
Ron sat down and cautiously pressed the red button.
Click!
A trapdoor near the button sprang open, and a small pot of wormwood popped out. At the same time, two digital timers appeared on the wall before him, their red numbers ticking rapidly upward.
Watching the fast-moving digits, Ron froze, unsure what to do.
He fumbled for a while before finally remembering what his task was supposed to be. Grabbing the tool kit from the wall, he began processing the wormwood.
Wormwood, being a key ingredient for Dreamless Sleep and Blood-Replenishing Potions, wasn't hard to handle.
Just chop, juice, boil, and filter it, and you'd get a bottle of wormwood extract.
Even a first-year who'd had a few Potions lessons could manage it easily.
So although Ron was a bit clumsy, his progress went surprisingly smoothly.
After filtering and bottling the wormwood juice, he set it in the wooden basin and pressed the gold button.
Click!
Another crisp mechanical sound, an alchemical arm extended from the small door on the gold side, swiftly taking the basin away.
One of the two timers stopped ticking.
The final time displayed, 11 minutes 43 seconds.
And that time appeared on a ranking list next to the clock.
1st Place: Station 17, "11:43."