Once Rita Skeeter had left, Sullivan, Lupin, and Avery stepped back into the private meeting room inside the store.
The second the door closed, Avery's whole demeanor flipped one-eighty. He bowed low, voice dripping with deference. "Mr. Sullivan, is there anything else you need me to do?"
Sullivan waved a hand. "Nothing. Just keep living exactly like you always have. If Voldemort contacts you, tell me immediately."
Avery's face tightened. "He—he's really still alive?"
Sullivan gave him a half-smile. "Don't play dumb. He already reached out to you, didn't he? Or are you seriously telling me that little stunt in June—luring Dumbledore to the Department of Mysteries—was your own bright idea?"
Avery's shoulders slumped. "Ah… Mr. Sullivan truly sees everything. Nothing gets past you." He forced a weak smile and bowed again.
"Enough. Go home. And one last piece of friendly advice," Sullivan said, pulling out the small bead and giving it a little shake. "Don't try to remove the brain worms. Don't try to hide anything from me. You will die."
"I understand completely!" Avery answered quickly. He gathered Rad and his house-elf, and the three of them left without another word.
Lupin watched them go, still uneasy. "Su, are you sure just letting him walk out of here is smart?"
Sullivan grinned. "Relax. After he gets a couple of headaches, he'll learn exactly how nasty those worms can be."
"What if Voldemort helps him get them out?" Lupin pressed.
Sullivan shook his head. "The worms slowly eat away at his brain and replace the damaged parts. Give it enough time and they become his brain. Voldemort might be able to remove them, but Avery would end up a corpse. He's a smart man—he'll make the right choice. Plus, I can influence his thoughts through this little toy whenever I want."
Lupin shivered. The whole thing felt disturbingly close to the Imperius Curse. Still, the target was a Death Eater, so he wasn't about to start feeling sorry for the guy. He was just glad Sullivan was on the right side.
It was six o'clock in the evening in Britain—barely one in the afternoon in America. Old Mr. Stewart had just sat down at his desk when his Magic Phone buzzed with a new system notification.
Ding! New app in the store: Today's Headlines. Stay ahead of every story in the British wizarding world—download now and get the news first!
Ever since the Magical Network launched, Stewart had started to see Sullivan's bigger plan. Phones were just the hardware; they'd make a quick buck, sure, but the real money—the long-term empire—was in the network itself.
He'd been wondering how to cash in on that network. The second he saw the new app, he tapped it, downloaded, and installed Today's Headlines.
The top story hit him like a Bludger:
Flying Feather Magic Phones Forms Strategic Partnership with the Avery Family—Wizarding Communication Is About to Change Forever!
Below it was a photo of Sullivan and Avery shaking hands, plus Rita Skeeter's full interview and glowing write-up about the future of wizarding comms.
Stewart kept scrolling. There were smaller British wizarding stories—some hidden dark wizard caught in Diagon Alley, a wizard family getting along great with their Muggle neighbors—and even an ad from Honeydukes Sweetshop showing off their signature Fizzing Whizzbees and Chocolate Frogs.
The comments section was already buzzing.
"Fizzing Whizzbees—my absolute favorite!"
"I'm in America. How the heck do I get my hands on these? Anyone selling them stateside?"
"France here—same question!"
"Chocolate Frogs are easy to find in New York, but no Whizzbees yet. Hoping that changes soon!"
Stewart slammed his palm on the desk and shot to his feet. That's it. That's how the Magical Network was going to make money.
No—bigger than that. Today's Headlines wasn't just about profit. It was a mouthpiece. Sullivan wanted to control wizarding public opinion? Or maybe it was Dumbledore pulling the strings. The old man had finally decided to grab real power?
For a moment Stewart's mind flashed back fifty years to another powerful man. But that was Britain's problem. America's wizarding world had come a long way and could handle itself.
What mattered right now was growing his own family's influence and business. He fired off a message to Sullivan: "Su, I want a newspaper too!"
Sullivan read the text and his lips curved into a sly smile. "What newspaper?"
"Don't play dumb, kid," Stewart shot back. "I want an app just like Today's Headlines. My own!"
Sullivan pretended to hesitate. "Stewart, do you have any idea how much magic it takes to keep the global Magical Network running? We're already pushing the limit with one newspaper app."
Stewart's reply came with an angry emoji. "Just name your price."
Sullivan chuckled. "Since we're old friends… let's say ten thousand Galleons a year."
"Ten thousand?! You've lost your mind. Five thousand max!"
"Five thousand won't even cover the server upkeep. No deal."
They haggled back and forth until Sullivan finally "reluctantly" dropped the yearly fee to eight thousand Galleons. On top of that, Stewart had to pay a one-time five-thousand-Galleon development fee.
Once the verbal agreement was done, Sullivan created a new group chat, pulled in the five Raven's Feather kids, and explained Stewart's request.
In the Raven's Feather group he added: "Finish this project and each of you gets a hundred-Galleon bonus."
"Professor Su is the best!" the five of them replied at once, hyped.
They had no idea that on this single little side project Sullivan was clearing tens of thousands of Galleons in pure profit. Even the greediest capitalist would have shed a tear at the margins.
Old Mr. Stewart wasn't the only sharp mind in the world. The owner of the Daily Prophet was next. He reached out to Sullivan almost immediately.
Sullivan ignored him completely. Today's Headlines was his own baby; it had just launched. Adding the Daily Prophet right away would cannibalize his traffic.
He knew he couldn't block them forever—the Prophet had Ministry connections, and the Ministry wasn't about to let one man monopolize public opinion. So he'd stall as long as possible, let Today's Headlines build its reputation first, and jack up the price when the Prophet finally came begging.
Time slipped by. Before anyone realized it, July was almost over.
One afternoon Sullivan's phone buzzed with a message from Hermione: "Professor Sullivan, I think something's happened to Harry!"