Chapter 567: The Hogwarts Group Chat
Outside, the snow was falling in thick, woolly flakes that clung to everything
they touched. Inside the greenhouse, the glass panes were frosted with a
delicate webbing of condensation.
The droplets soon began to run down the glass, however, because a fireplace came
"clattering" across the floor toward the center of the room. The heat radiating
from the hearth caused the snow on Justin's scarf and hair to melt instantly.
Justin's shivering frame finally went still as the warmth seeped into his bones.
"It's absolutely freezing out there," Justin said, wiping his face with his
sleeve.
"You should have layered up," Sean noted, looking down at his own attire.
He was currently wearing woolly thermal undergarments, a silk waistcoat with
intricate embroidery, a thick wool-lined working robe, and a heavy black winter
cloak fastened with silver buckles. Professor McGonagall had personally selected
the outfit, and the result was that Sean—who was naturally lean—was currently
wrapped up like a plush ball.
Sean didn't mind. For most of the year, the British climate made the idea of
warm, furry clothing incredibly seductive.
Justin let out a chuckle. "Don't take it personally, Sean. My mother used to buy
me clothes just like those."
"Used to?" Sean asked, tilting his head.
"She changed eventually," Justin said with a warm smile. "She realized I was
capable of handling the cold on my own."
Sean nodded, thinking of the rare, soft smile McGonagall wore when she picked
out the robes. He decided he was perfectly happy being a "plush ball" for now.
Just as they were about to head out, a hand reached out from the flames of the
trotting fireplace, followed shortly by a head.
"Professor Quirrell," Sean said.
"My apologies for the intrusion, sir," Quirrell said. He was bundled against a
storm of his own, and his face was full of regret. "That rush order..."
Sean paused. He had been so immersed in his practice of Element Vitalization
that he had completely forgotten about the backlog at the Fairy Tale Workshop.
Usually, the Workshop's customers were a patient lot. Delivery dates were
generally given as a "window of time"—they might be late, but they always
arrived. It had become part of the shop's charm.
The problem, however, was that this specific batch of Magic Hand Mirrors was
destined for Uagadou. International trade within the wizarding world was a
labyrinth of red tape and portkey schedules; if they missed this window, the
delivery wouldn't arrive for months.
"How long until the Quidditch match?" Sean asked, turning to Justin.
"Two hours," Justin replied, watching the fireplace with fascination. They had
known Sean's hearth was connected to the Floo Network, but they'd rarely seen
him use it, and they certainly didn't know it led directly to his business
headquarters.
"Are you heading down to the pitch now?" Sean asked after Quirrell's head
retracted into the flames.
"Oh, I still have a few batches of buttered toast to finish in the kitchen..."
Justin adjusted his scarf and headed for his own corner of the Shack.
By the time Sean had finished crafting three new mirrors, he noticed Justin
"coincidentally" hovering nearby.
"Are those... Magic Hand Mirrors?" Justin asked, his pretense of working
vanishing instantly.
"Third-generation models," Sean explained, etching ancient runes into the silver
backing. "They're equipped with a mobile node for the Localized M-Net. By the
way, did you collect the mirrors from Hermione and the others?"
"Of course." Justin carefully lined up several mirrors on the workbench.
Magic Hand Mirrors were sturdy alchemical constructs, but they were still
mirrors. Without proper care, the glass could still shatter.
"Is this why you wanted them, Sean? You're giving us access to the mobile Web?"
Justin asked excitedly.
"Mmm," Sean nodded. "The Localized M-Net can now store text logs. It allows
everyone on the same frequency to receive the same broadcast simultaneously. It
also supports the creation of private 'sub-channels' for groups. The Daily
Prophet will even be able to publish news bulletins directly to the glass—though
you can block those by tapping the rune on the side if they get too annoying."
Sean explained the mechanics as he worked. Over the last month, his networking
technology had finally matured. Currently, a single node was powerful enough to
cover the entirety of Hogwarts and its grounds.
If every wizard in the school purchased a third-generation mirror from the
Workshop, they would effectively be linked into a single, real-time
communication grid.
The Hogwarts Chat, Sean thought with a faint smirk.
"That's wicked!" Justin cheered. He could hardly contain himself.
A few minutes later, Sean handed Justin his upgraded mirror. Justin immediately
tapped the surface.
[Justin: Is anyone there? Can you see this?]
A line of glowing text appeared on Sean's own mirror.
"There's no one else yet, Justin. The third-gen mirrors haven't officially hit
the shelves," Sean noted with a sigh of patient long-suffering.
"Right, right—" Justin was still grinning like an idiot. "But when will they be
available?"
"Within the week."
Sean had produced a total of seventy third-generation mirrors in this initial
batch. Nearly all of them had been pre-ordered by various Ministries of Magic
and the MACUSA. There had even been a few foreign wizards who had tried to camp
outside the Workshop to secure one. Fortunately, the sight of Professor
Quirrell's wand emitting a faint green glow had been enough to discourage
them.
"I've got to get these back to the others!" Justin practically skipped out of
Hope Cottage, clutching the mirrors to his chest.
Sean could already imagine the chaos. Within days, the students, the staff, and
likely Dumbledore himself would be part of the Web. No doubt the students would
immediately start dividing themselves into smaller cliques: The Hufflepuff
Common Room Chat, The Quidditch Club, The Never-Hungry Society, and so on.
Sean opened his own system panel to check his progress:
[Wizard Sean Green: Alchemy Talent - Gold] [High-Tier Warp Gate: Novice
(100/900)] [High-Tier Wizard's Tome: Expert (8,900/9,000)] [High-Tier Magic Hand
Mirror: Master (100/?)] [High-Tier Fairy Tale Biscuits: Master (1,700/?)]
[Advancement: Master three types of High-Tier Alchemy to unlock the 'Alchemical
Master' title (2/3)]
He was incredibly close to the Master rank in Alchemy. The only hurdle was the
Wizard's Tome. Expanding the internal dimensions was a slow, delicate process.
He estimated it would take another two weeks for the space to stabilize enough
for his next major expansion.
Perhaps Newt Scamander has some insights on stabilizing expanded spaces, Sean
mused.
Outside, the snow continued to fall, leaving the grounds looking soft and
pristine. As Sean descended the stairs toward the castle gates, he felt the cool
breeze against his face and the damp kiss of melting snowflakes on his cheeks.
The sound of the student body surging toward the Quidditch stadium echoed
through the courtyard. He pulled out his mirror and saw that the "Hogwarts Chat"
was already in a state of civil war.
[Hermione: Is this for real? I can actually leave a message?] [System: You have
received a message from 'Hermione': Merlin's Beard, it works!] [System: You have
received a message from 'Justin': Sean, we're in the third row.] [System: You
have 5 new notifications...] [System: 'Ron' has renamed the channel "Hogwarts"
to "The Know-It-Alls".] [Hermione: ?]
Sean closed the mirror with a small, amused smile and continued toward the
pitch.
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