Hogwarts: Card System

To make trading easier for every wizard, without the hassle of constant meetings and bargaining, I have introduced the Wizarding Trade Board for everyone's convenience!

"Our goal is to make business effortless in the wizarding world!"

"You heard me right! For the first three days, item appraisals are absolutely free. No charge! I repeat, no charge! I'm not interested in Galleons!"

"Just let me know what second-hand items you want to sell, and I'll list them on the board free of cost. That way, interested buyers can see them and make offers directly—no middlemen taking a cut!"

"Of course, I recommend bringing your items here for appraisal. That way, I can guarantee their authenticity. Buyers will have peace of mind, and if there's an issue, we'll cover the loss. If I miss something, then it's my mistake, and I should face the consequences!"

Ted stood atop a small crate, his energy infectious as he addressed the bustling crowd at Diagon Alley. 

His enthusiasm was reminiscent of a Quidditch announcer hyping up a match, his voice brimming with confidence and excitement.

"Do you agree?" he called out.

"Where's the applause?"

"Show me you're with me!"

Unbeknownst to the crowd, Ted had subtly woven a charm into his words, amplifying their appeal and stirring the excitement in his listeners.

A voice from the front row piped up, "How much for that waterproof, moisture-resistant cloak? Is it new? Can I take a closer look?"

Ted's eyes gleamed. 

Finally, some business! 

With limited help, he hadn't been able to arrange formal consignments yet. 

But here was a golden opportunity.

"No need to worry! We guarantee every item on the Trade Board! Here's the waterproof cloak—take a look!" He pulled out a slightly dusty cloak and gave it a quick flick with a cleansing spell, revealing its pristine fabric. 

Water beaded and rolled off without a trace.

"Since you're our first customer, I'll give you a 20% discount! And don't worry—the seller won't lose out; we'll cover the difference."

"But wait—do you actually need this cloak? I don't want anyone making an impulsive purchase!"

Whether it was Ted's earnest expression, his smooth salesmanship, or the persuasive charm laced in his voice, the customer felt completely at ease.

"Actually, yes! I'm traveling to Bergen, Norway, next month for business. I'll be there for at least two months. You know they call it the City of Rain? I can't bear the thought of casting dozens of waterproofing spells daily. This cloak would be a lifesaver!"

"Ah, perfect! You'd be drenched without it, and you don't want to waste all your magic on constant spells. The price with the discount is 2 Galleons and 16 Sickles. It's yours! Safe travels!"

The customer eagerly completed the purchase and hurried off, thrilled with his find.

Seeing this, others in the crowd stepped forward, their interest piqued. Some wanted to list items for sale, others asked about specific products they needed but hadn't found yet.

Ted grinned. Business was booming!

Later that afternoon, Ted sent his owl, Anzu, with a letter for Jerry, summoning him to Diagon Alley once he'd settled at home. There was work waiting for him!

At the edge of Scotland, near the English border, the Ministry of Magic had established a settlement for part-human wizards and magical creatures. 

It was called Livenkel, a hidden mountain village where many of them lived in peace, away from Muggle society.

Because of their distinct features—Jerry's pointed ears, Goof's small horns—they couldn't blend easily with Muggles. 

When Livenkel was founded, the Ministry placed strict security measures, including a powerful Muggle-Repelling Charm to prevent exposure of the wizarding world.

Muggles, defined by the spell as non-magical individuals, couldn't enter. 

However, part-human wizards, Squibs, vampires, and werewolves were unaffected.

Anzu, now a large owl with a wingspan of nearly five feet, made the long flight from London to Livenkel in just three hours. 

Upon arrival, it surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings with a curious tilt of its head before finally allowing Jerry to untie the letter from its leg.

"Thank you, Anzu. That must have been exhausting," Jerry said, offering the owl a treasured biscuit as a reward.

Jerry's eyes scanned Ted's letter, and his heart raced with excitement. He was needed!

A soft voice called from inside, "Jerry, is someone here?"

"Mom, it's Ted's owl! He sent me a letter!"

The door creaked open, revealing a woman in her thirties with the same round, furry ears as Jerry. 

Though still young, weariness lined her face—years of hardship had taken their toll.

Years ago, conditions for part-humans were harsh. 

Without a stable income, Jerry's family had struggled. This was why he needed to find work in Diagon Alley.

"Mom…" Jerry hesitated. "I want to work with Ted. He found me a job. I can stay at the Leaky Cauldron and visit home on weekends."

His mother gently cupped his face, her eyes filled with both love and reluctance. "But you just came home."

"I want to help you, Mom. I can work now! I can make things better!"

She sighed, her fingers brushing his ears in a tender gesture. "Alright, alright. You're growing up. A wizard needs to stand on his own. 

We'll leave tonight. I'll pack your things, and we'll use Uncle Pooley's Floo Network to get you to Leaky Cauldron…"

...

In the afternoon, Anzu swooped in through the open window, flapping his wings dramatically before landing on the table with a loud thud.

"I'm exhausted! Absolutely knackered! Caw! Caw!~" he huffed, ruffling his feathers for emphasis.

Ted chuckled and tossed him a few pieces of beef jerky. "Thanks for your hard work, buddy. It's quite a trip to Jerry's place."

Anzu puffed out his chest. "The distance? Pfft! That was nothing. But I had to battle an eagle mid-flight. Had to put the feathered brute in its place!" 

With that, he yanked a long, pristine tail feather from his wing and dropped it on the table triumphantly.

Ted groaned, rubbing his temple. "Why do you always pick fights wherever you go? Can't you just fly peacefully for once?"

Anzu ignored him, hopping across the table with an air of victory. "Oh, and Jerry's coming tonight! He'll be using the Floo Network to arrive at the Leaky Cauldron. Caw!"

By four in the afternoon, Ted was already waiting at the fireplace in the pub, flipping through a book absentmindedly.

With a sudden whoosh and a burst of emerald flames, a small figure stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing from the soot.

"Hey! Jerry!" Ted snapped his book shut and strode over, pulling the dazed boy to his feet.

Jerry grinned, brushing off his cloak. "Ted! Long time no see! I'm ready to get started!"

That evening, Ted treated Jerry to a feast. 

They even stopped by a Muggle cheese shop, where Jerry gawked at everything like a wide-eyed first-year at Hogwarts. 

Wearing a slightly oversized hat, he trailed behind Ted like a lost puppy, staring at the neon signs and bustling streets in amazement.

"Muggles are incredible… They live without magic, and yet they create such fascinating things!" he murmured, watching an escalator move people effortlessly.

Ted laughed. "Wait till you see a Muggle arcade. It's basically a bunch of moving pictures you can play! Like a living magical painting, but interactive."

The next day, Ted introduced Jerry to Mr. Jiggers at the apothecary. "This is my good friend, Jerry. He's got a solid understanding of potions and herbs. He can help while I'm busy."

Mr. Jiggers, an older wizard with a permanent look of mild exasperation, sized Jerry up before giving a small nod. "Fine. But he starts with basic ingredient prep. No messing about."

And so, Jerry dove into work, chopping roots, crushing leaves, and measuring out precise doses of powdered substances. 

It was tedious but far better than the odd jobs he had before. Plus, the pay was better than what Ted had earned when he first started.

Meanwhile, Ted had his hands full with high-level potion brewing. 

On particularly busy days, he even took over for Mr. Jiggers in making common, high-demand potions. 

The experience was invaluable, and he racked up a decent number of skill points each day.

But Jerry had another job—helping manage the Wizarding Trade Board.

At first, Jerry was baffled by Ted's setup. 

A whole system for trading second-hand magical goods, all laid out like an auction house from one of those RPG games Ted loved.

"You're telling me… you convinced people to list their unwanted magical items here?" Jerry asked, staring at the growing inventory.

Ted smirked. "Not just that. I scrounged up old junk from everywhere. Mr. Jiggers' storeroom, the Weasley twins, even the Leaky Cauldron's basement. Repaired, cleaned, and listed."

Jerry's eyes widened. "You're basically flipping magical goods?!"

"Exactly! And we're just getting started."

Ted even wrote to his contacts, asking if they had unused magical trinkets. Every now and then, a real gem would surface—a rare, enchanted item hiding among the clutter.

Within days, Ted had already identified five or six high-tier artifacts, two of which were classified as rare quality by his trade system.

One was an heirloom passed down in a pure-blood family—an object of power, though the owner only sought an appraisal. 

Sadly, Ted wasn't about to snag a priceless relic at a bargain.

Still, every high-end item brought in experience points. 

And more importantly, the business was booming.

Among the many oddities he acquired, Ted even stumbled upon two magic-infused materials that he could personally use.