Rowan's subscription copy landed beside his plate. The front page covered a Ministry scandal involving Floo powder regulation, but a small notice at the bottom read: "Exclusive Interview with Tournament Finalist - Page 3."
He turned to page three.
MUDBLOOD FINALIST SPEAKS: "BLOOD STATUS IS IRRELEVANT"
Exclusive Interview with Tournament Victor Rowan Ashcroft
By Sophronia Inkwood, Senior Correspondent
The photograph showed him from the tournament, mid-duel.
Rowan read quickly.
Inkwood had been fair. Surprisingly so. She'd included his full responses rather than cherry-picking inflammatory snippets. His observation about Black's double standards was quoted accurately. His challenges to the original article's framing were presented clearly. Even his statements about modernizing the wizarding world were included without excessive editorial commentary.
She'd added some contextual notes. "Ashcroft's confidence may strike some as arrogance," "His criticism of wizarding tradition may alarm conservative readers," "Whether his ambitions exceed his abilities remains to be seen." But these felt like professional balance rather than deliberate poison.
The article concluded with his final quote: "We can't change prejudiced minds through arguments. We can make prejudice impossible to justify through achievement."
"That's actually quite good," Iris said from across the table, reading her own copy. "She let you speak."
"She did." Rowan rolled up the parchment carefully. "Now we see how people react."
The few remaining students in the Great Hall read the article with varied reactions. Some curious, others skeptical.
Over the next few days, Rowan received dozens of owls. Supportive letters from Muggleborns thanking him for speaking out. Hateful screeds from blood purists. A few simply curious.
He answered the supportive ones briefly, ignored the hateful ones entirely, and responded to curious ones with carefully worded explanations.
One letter stood out. It arrived on Wednesday, carried by a magnificent eagle owl. The parchment bore the Flamel family crest.
Dear Rowan,
Perenelle and I read your interview with great interest. Your articulation of blood prejudice was both accurate and admirably bold. Few eleven-year-olds would challenge Phineas Nigellus Black publicly, even indirectly.
We are even more convinced that having you study with us this summer will be worthwhile. Your perspective on magical innovation aligns with several projects I've been considering. Perhaps we can collaborate.
We will send the Portkey for your arrival on June 20th at noon. Pack lightly—we have everything you might need, including an extensive library.
Looking forward to our time together.
Nicholas Flamel
Rowan read the letter three times, relief settling in his chest.
Whatever controversy the interview had generated, it hadn't damaged his relationship with the Flamels. If anything, it seemed to have strengthened it.
He had ten days remaining at Hogwarts. Ten days to prepare for an entirely new kind of education.
The Prophet articles, the fame, the controversy. All of it faded compared to the opportunity waiting.
Rowan pulled out fresh parchment and began making lists: books to review, questions about alchemy, topics he wanted to discuss. By the time he finished, he had three full pages of notes.
Let magical Britain debate whether a Mudblood should be taken seriously.
Rowan had more important things to focus on.
He had two alchemists to impress.