"That's right, it's me! I'm so happy to see you here! This is my dad—he's a wizard too!"
Cho Chang beamed as she introduced him.
Cho's father looked to be in his mid-thirties, a little on the heavy side. Like most Chinese dads, he showed immediate respect for a teacher. He extended his hand warmly. "Professor Sullivan, hello. My name is Peter Zhang. We immigrated from Hong Kong. Qiu told us during summer break that Hogwarts had a Chinese professor—we could hardly believe it! You know how few Chinese wizards there are over here."
"Indeed," Sullivan replied politely, shaking his hand. "You're the first Chinese wizard I've met in Britain since I grew up."
The two men chatted easily. Sullivan asked about the wizarding community in Hong Kong, though Peter had moved to Britain when he was young and didn't know much about it anymore.
Before they left, Peter slipped a red envelope into Sullivan's hand and asked him to look after his daughter once term started. The gesture was pure Chinese.
Sullivan tried to refuse, but after several polite rounds of back-and-forth right there on the street, he finally accepted with an awkward smile. The envelope held only fifty Galleons, but for Peter it was clearly a significant amount. Sullivan made a mental note to find a way to return the money to Cho during the school year.
Once father and daughter had walked off, Tonks suddenly spoke up. "That student of yours has a strange scent on her. It's faint, but it feels familiar somehow."
"Oh?" Sullivan asked, puzzled. "What kind of scent?"
Tonks shook her head. "I can't place it. But I know I've smelled it before. I just can't remember where."
"Forget it if you can't remember," Sullivan said, tugging her arm. "Come on, let's go buy you a few new outfits."
He didn't give it another thought and steered Tonks toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
Over the next month, Sullivan had Avery dig around for any news about the black notebook. Lucius Malfoy's lips stayed sealed, and every other lead went cold. The whole matter seemed stuck.
On the bright side, Arthur Weasley was doing brilliantly. With Sullivan's help, he kept breaking cases and kept appearing in Today's Headlines. By the end of the summer he had become the most talked-about person in British wizarding society.
The sudden popularity made the owner of the Daily Prophet and the Ministry extremely uneasy. They decided they could no longer let Today's Headlines be the only newspaper on the Magic Phone.
Minister Fudge, Daily Prophet editor Barnabas Cuffe, and Dumbledore together arranged a meeting with Sullivan and Rita Skeeter.
In Dumbledore's office, Fudge looked straight at Sullivan. "Mr. Sullivan, Miss Skeeter, many of the stories Today's Headlines runs are exaggerated or outright false. They easily mislead ordinary wizards."
"After careful study, the Ministry plans to station an official inside Today's Headlines to review and assess all news content."
Before Sullivan could speak, Rita Skeeter's sharp voice cut in. "Minister Fudge, do you have any actual evidence of exaggeration or falsehood? And is it even legal under current wizarding law to embed Ministry staff inside a private newspaper?"
"If everything is done properly and legally, Today's Headlines welcomes it. But if this is just someone abusing power, I won't hesitate to let every wizard in Britain know exactly what's happening."
Fudge's face flushed, then paled. "Evidence? The Ministry has been working around the clock on the dark-artifact crackdown. That's official policy, approved by the leadership, and carried out by every single employee. Yet you keep writing only about Arthur Weasley. Is he the only one doing any work?"
Rita took a sip of tea, opened her phone, and replied calmly, "In my experience, highlighting one strong example is the best way to promote any policy. We've mentioned plenty of other Ministry staff too."
"For instance, here we wrote about Madam Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Here we featured young Auror Tonks. And here—"
"Minister, the 'other people' you're talking about wouldn't happen to be yourself, would it? If so, I'd be happy to arrange a personal interview. What do you think?"
"I—well—I think that would be excellent," Fudge stammered, his mouth twitching into an uncontrollable smile. "I mean, it's important that the wizarding public understands the purpose of our current operation!"
Cuffe saw the conversation drifting and coughed loudly. "Minister Fudge, Today's Headlines has already become the most-read newspaper in Britain every single day."
"Yet the Magic Phone store only carries Today's Headlines. That limits the information ordinary wizards can access."
"Wizards deserve more choices and more diverse voices. Don't you agree?"
"Yes, yes, Chief Editor Cuffe is quite right," Fudge said, suddenly remembering why they were really here. "British wizards should have freer, more varied access to news. The Daily Prophet must also be available on the Magic Phone."
Even Dumbledore spoke up. "Indeed. I read both Today's Headlines and the Daily Prophet every day. The two papers complement each other and give me a fuller picture. The Daily Prophet certainly deserves a place on the Magic Phone."
Sullivan set down his teacup with a sigh. "Everything you've said makes perfect sense. But we have a very practical problem right now: the Magical Network is already at capacity."
"To keep the current network running smoothly, I've invested enormous resources and hundreds of thousands of Galleons. Adding the Daily Prophet could easily destabilize the entire system."
Dumbledore immediately understood Sullivan's game and played along. "Su, if we add the Daily Prophet app, how much extra cost would that create each day? I'm sure Minister Fudge and Chief Editor Cuffe would be happy to cover it."
For Dumbledore, the goal was simply to prevent any single voice from dominating. He was perfectly content for Sullivan to profit a little more.
Fudge and Cuffe both looked sour. Sullivan, however, seemed to have made up his mind. "If that's the case, then even if it costs us more, we'll still support the Daily Prophet going live."
"Minister Fudge, Chief Editor Cuffe, you're not strangers here. I'll charge you cost price only: a one-time development fee of five thousand Galleons, plus ten thousand Galleons per month in service fees."
He smiled politely, but his eyes were sharp. The price was deliberately steep—and everyone in the room knew it.