Chapter 63: That’s What Ravenclaws Are Like

"Leaving? That's great news!"

"I knew you were a true Ravenclaw — you understand the better answer."

"If you ever need help with anything, just come to us. Don't be shy."

"No trouble at all — we all have the same goal, right?"

Laughing, the older student in charge of the club waved Andrew off with a big smile — truly worthy of a first-year who'd officially joined right at the start of term, and now basically secured half a "stay-on-campus" position. That was way better than spending a few months as an intern at the Ministry.

Who wouldn't prefer staying at Hogwarts over fighting tooth and nail for a Ministry placement? He wasn't like those few extreme maniacs. Most people joined the club for the higher chance of getting into the Ministry — stable jobs, that was all. They were just drifting along. No one spoke up because opposing those crazies was useless, and sure, those nutcases really did draw a bit of attention from the Ministry — but it's not like anyone actually supported them.

Besides, even if those maniacs did show up, they'd only badmouth a "traitor" behind his back — no way they'd dare in front of others. Who would be dumb enough to offend Andrew now? From now on, part of the club's funding paperwork and the requests for spare classrooms for events might all have to go through him!

Meanwhile, Andrew himself wasn't thinking that deeply — unlike these club veterans, he'd never spent time analyzing Hogwarts' administrative structure and comparing all the moving pieces.

But he was genuinely happy — what he'd thought he'd be stuck with for two more years just to build up enough clout to break away was now gone overnight. He was thrilled.

'Unbelievable. A club that's supposed to be the safest, being linked to the Ministry, turns out to be full of freaks… At least it's over now…'

He thought so — but he'd thought too soon. Just the next day, after finishing his classes and handling a round of homework sorting for Professor McGonagall, he got tangled up again — only this time, it was completely different.

"Very good — the way you categorized this batch of assignments is excellent. Your annotations are clear too. Saved me a lot of time."

While Andrew was buried in second-year essays, Professor McGonagall had already done a quick review of the work he'd pre-sorted.

"I'm glad it meets your standards, Professor. I'm not very experienced with this yet."

Andrew grinned — he'd even slipped his own homework into the stack, giving himself top marks without hesitation.

"Hmm… Time's up."

The multi-needle clock on McGonagall's desk gave a soft chime. She glanced at it, then at Andrew.

"Do you have any more classes today?"

"No, Professor."

"Good. Come with me — you should get familiar with this side of things too. Consider it a bit of a preview."

What?

Confused, Andrew followed McGonagall up to the fifth floor, to a secluded classroom — no one really came here since these rooms were kept locked and had no scheduled lessons.

Also, if you got caught making noise here, it wasn't just a points deduction — it was straight to detention.

"This way."

McGonagall led him to a curtained classroom door and knocked.

"Come in."

The door spoke — then swung open by itself.

Was that recognizing her specifically, or does knocking always work?

Andrew wondered, but didn't ask — and he had other things to worry about now.

What should've been an ordinary classroom had clearly been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm; it was more like a miniature library inside. Shelves and desks filled the space. Six students were hunched over papers, scribbling intensely, while a few others were speaking with a professor he didn't immediately recognize.

One thing was obvious: if Professor McGonagall was taking time to come here herself, this was no casual chat.

"Minerva — and this is?"

"Andrew Taylor. He's my new assistant, first year. You've always said I don't pay enough attention to your projects. Well, I should have more time now."

"That's wonderful!" The professor's smile was clearly genuine. She turned to Andrew. "If you ever take Muggle Studies, I think you'll do very well."

Oh, right — Professor Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor.

"Berkeley, please explain to Andrew what we're working on — thoroughly. It's clear Minerva plans to have him helping long-term."

"Yes, Professor."

The speaker was a ginger-haired boy who looked like he didn't fuss much with his appearance — another Ravenclaw. After nodding to Burbage, he scratched his messy hair and led Andrew to a slightly tidier desk in a corner.

"So… do you know about the Ministry's discount vouchers?"

"Huh?"

Andrew was stunned — no point pretending here; he'd only embarrass himself trying to bluff about something so serious.

"Sorry… I'm Muggle-born, so I'm not very familiar."

"Ah — I knew it…" The other boy looked a bit frustrated. "I said this would happen if they keep letting those nutjobs run things… Never mind, I'll start from the top."

"You know about wizarding world prices, right?"

"A bit — but I've never studied it properly."

"That's fine. You know that food can't be conjured with magic, right?"

"Yes, I learned that when studying Transfiguration."

"Good. So — do you know where wizards get their daily food? I mean real wizard families, not the stuff here at school — vegetables, bread, canned goods, fruit, even cheap alcohol?"

"Doesn't the magical world produce it?"

"Now that's a proper Ravenclaw answer."

The boy nodded, dropping his earlier impatience.

"Of course not. If all those supplies came from within the wizarding world, the cost would be outrageous."

"Just do the math — a wizard's wages versus household buying power. You'll see it's impossible to cover that with purely magical production. In reality, it all comes from Muggles. The Ministry buys it using Muggle money, then resells it cheaply to wizard families. Discount vouchers, special vegetable shops… all kinds of systems like that. They recycle a bit of Galleons this way — and keep wizards fed and calm."

(The Weasleys' plentiful food and their endless bacon sandwiches are obviously a perk of this policy.)

"So they don't get desperate and target Muggles for food?"

"Exactly. A wizard with a wand and an empty stomach will abandon morality real quick. Plenty of food is the foundation for keeping the wizarding world stable — and for maintaining the Statute of Secrecy."

"But here's the issue: the Ministry doesn't like to advertise it, but they have to keep growing their wealth in the Muggle world to keep the supply steady. Our research group, under Professor Burbage's guidance, is developing new methods for the Ministry to build that wealth."

…

Now Andrew finally understood why he'd had to sign that confidentiality agreement — his old club just tried to cozy up to the Ministry. These people, though? If they came up with something that worked, they'd skip exams altogether and waltz right into the Ministry — maybe even start an entire new department…

T/N: For twenty chapters ahead on all my fics become a P@tron at P@treon.com/LordHipposApostle