"Yes, my Lord," Chelsea said even more quietly than before. "Here… a mirror. It became much stronger after I attached several layers of graphene film to it."
"This is all excellent work, Miss Chelsea," Richard praised her. "You have most certainly earned a reward. Miss Chelsea, come to see me on the next weekend with a full report detailing the tested properties of various materials combined with graphene, and you shall receive your prize."
Richard noticed that some of the female students were glaring at Chelsea with unmistakable hostility — almost animalistic malice and envy. Others, meanwhile, looked at her as though she were a fool whom rich little Richie had simply taken pity on. Pitied her so much, in fact, that he had even refrained from announcing her reward aloud as he had done for the other contestants.
To ease the tension in the room, Richard raised his voice:
"Professor Flitwick, do you have anything to add?"
Filius Flitwick, who until that moment had gone unnoticed by most of the students, suddenly stepped into the centre of the room, applauding loudly. In the abrupt silence that followed, he declared cheerfully:
"Bravo! Bravo! Fifty points to Ravenclaw and fifty points to Hufflepuff for such a significant contribution to magical science. And now, everyone disperse!"
"All the best, ladies and gentlemen," Richard bid them farewell before heading towards the exit of the dormitory.
The students reluctantly began drifting back towards their dormitories or filing out through the main door of the common room.
***
Richard devoted the following Sunday to meeting with the leaders of the Ravenclaw research groups. An abandoned classroom on the fourth floor had been selected for the occasion and swiftly transformed into something respectable with the aid of charms and transfiguration. Chelsea Chester was the final visitor of the day.
"Good afternoon, my Lord," she said shyly, once again attempting something resembling a curtsey.
"Good afternoon, Miss Chester. Please, take a seat."
The classroom had been turned into a makeshift office. Through Richard's efforts, a school desk had become a luxurious writing table, while the boy himself sat in a comfortable transfigured armchair. Opposite him stood another cushioned chair for visitors, upon the very edge of which Chelsea perched nervously.
The girl gazed at young Grosvenor with a mixture of admiration and concealed anxiety.
"Miss Chester," Richard began after noticing her hesitation, "I shall confess honestly: every method of using graphene that you demonstrated was already known to me. However, the fact that you independently arrived at such conclusions speaks very highly of your intellect."
Chelsea's shoulders drooped in disappointment, and in a trembling voice she asked:
"So… I won't be paid?"
"My dear Miss Chester, whatever gave you such an idea?" Richie asked with mild indignation. "I promised you a reward, and Grosvenors keep their word. Here, Miss Chester. Present this parchment at Gringotts Bank, and you shall be paid ten thousand Galleons, on the condition that you continue researching applications of graphene. And should you achieve further success, you may count on receiving another reward."
Chelsea seized the parchment with a death grip. Delight slowly spread across her face.
"This is for me? Truly?" she asked, as though unable to believe any of it was real.
"Yes, Miss Chester. You are not in a hurry, are you?"
"No, my Lord," the girl replied, shaking her head vigorously.
"Miss Chester, tell me about your plans for the future. What do you intend to do after graduating from Hogwarts?"
"I don't know, my Lord," Chelsea murmured quietly. "I've thought about it, but…"
"Miss Chester…" Richard rested a hand upon a folder.
Chelsea glanced at it and, with surprise, noticed her own name written across the cover.
"Yes, indeed, Miss," Richard continued. "This is your personal file. According to it, you are an orphan living in a children's home in the city of Chester. A coincidence? I think not. More likely the orphanage staff simply lacked imagination."
"Yes, my Lord," the girl admitted bashfully. "That is true."
"It is rather surprising that you were never adopted, nor even placed with a foster family, Miss Chester," Richie continued.
"Erm… yes, sir…" Chelsea lowered her gaze.
"Or perhaps not," Richard said, raising one eyebrow. "According to the orphanage staff reports, you are something of a troublemaker with criminal tendencies."
Chelsea jerked upright, eyes wide with shock as she stared at Richard.
"N-no… No, sir! I'm not like that! It's…"
"I am listening, Miss Chester."
Richard rested his elbows upon the desk and placed his chin atop his interlaced fingers.
"It was because of accidental magic, probably…" Chelsea said more quietly. "When I was little, strange things used to happen around me. Sometimes something would catch fire, sometimes things would break, and the caretakers thought I was doing it deliberately, so they punished me for it."
"I see… I take it you have no desire to return to the orphanage, Miss Chester."
"Yes, my Lord," Chelsea nodded vigorously.
"And you will hardly be able to make use of the money at all," Richard continued, thinking aloud. "The orphanage is hardly going to let you come and go as you please, and magic during the holidays is forbidden…"
Chelsea merely sighed sadly. She already knew that perfectly well.
"But let us return to my earlier question," Richard said. "What will you do after leaving school?"
"Work, sir," the girl replied with a helpless shrug.
"You are aware that you are considered a Muggle-born witch?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you have also heard about the attitude most wizards have towards Muggle-borns?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"So, Miss Chester, you harbour no illusions that a well-paid career awaits you after Hogwarts? In the magical world, you are nobody, which means the best you might hope for is work as a waitress or cleaner — and even that is uncertain. Among ordinary people, you are unlikely to fare any better, considering you do not even possess a basic secondary education."
(End of Chapter)
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