The Death Eater terrorist attack at the Quidditch World Cup was undeniably a massive catastrophe.
For safety's sake, Maurise took Kyle and Apparated directly back to Diagon Alley.
Kyle booked a room at the Leaky Cauldron, but just as he was about to settle in, his father appeared in front of him, looking frantic. This was perfectly normal; what parent wouldn't be worried about their child?
Afterward, Maurise had a brief conversation with Kyle's father.
Mr. Chesterfield was a businessman who looked incredibly sharp and astute. Upon learning that Maurise had helped his son, he immediately expressed his deepest gratitude.
As they talked further, Maurise learned that Mr. Chesterfield ran a wholesale business for magical items. His operations covered everything from self-inking magical quills to incredibly rare and precious Invisibility Cloaks, and he managed several companies under his name.
'Well, well,' Maurise thought. 'Who would have guessed Kyle was actually a wealthy heir?'
Maurise suddenly remembered something. He was still looking for a suitable buyer for his Shadow Stones, and Mr. Chesterfield seemed like the perfect candidate. He brought the topic up naturally.
Mr. Chesterfield agreed almost without a second thought, not even asking to see the product first.
"Actually, I am already aware of these stones," he explained. "Someone wrote to me promoting them a while back. I had intended to find time to discuss a deal, but I simply have not had a moment to spare."
Those letters were almost certainly written by Fred and George.
---
By the time Maurise returned to the Ship in a Bottle, the sky was already beginning to lighten with the dawn.
Cinder had arrived before him, a crumpled note clutched in its beak. Maurise took it and smoothed it out. It was from Fred, and it contained only a single sentence:
'If you are alright, write back. George is very worried about you.'
The handwriting was messy, clearly scribbled in a rush. Considering the severity of the riot, it was only natural for the Weasley twins to be concerned.
Maurise smiled faintly. He scribbled "I am fine" on the back of the note and handed it back to Cinder. "Go on. Take this to the Weasleys."
Cinder instantly flapped its wings and flew off.
---
For the next few days, Maurise spent most of his time cooped up at home, rarely venturing outside.
The Death Eater march at the Quidditch World Cup dominated the front page of the Daily Prophet every single day. Rita Skeeter churned out heaps of sensationalized garbage, primarily focusing on tearing the Ministry of Magic apart—that sort of drama always attracted the most attention, after all.
She painted the Ministry as an incompetent husband, helplessly watching the Death Eaters run amok while completely powerless to stop them.
Fortunately, Maurise's friends and acquaintances had not been significantly affected by the incident. Only Sirius seemed to have gotten tangled up in some sort of trouble, having cancelled his original plans to host a party at Grimmauld Place.
And one final thing: Maurise officially invited Kyle to join their small group, the "Explorers." Kyle happily agreed.
---
August ended in a flash, and the day to return to Hogwarts arrived.
That morning, Maurise left Diagon Alley, hailed a random Muggle taxi, and headed straight for King's Cross Station. He was actually there to deliver a shipment of flying broomsticks. Since he was about to return to school, he had handed over the next half year's worth of stock in one go.
The past few days of non-stop work had left him thoroughly exhausted.
It was getting late. By the time Maurise crossed the barrier onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the station was already packed with students and parents.
The clamor of overlapping voices, mixed with the squawking and hooting of various pets, made it as lively as Diagon Alley on a weekend. As Maurise walked past a few middle-aged men, he heard them still enthusiastically debating the events of the Quidditch World Cup.
It was highly predictable that this topic would remain incredibly popular for a long time to come.
"Hermione, you really need to keep your cat under control! Just look at Harry's and my face..."
A familiar, resentful voice drifted over from behind him.
Maurise turned to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing there.
Harry and Ron's faces were sporting several distinct, angry red cat scratches, while the culprit, Crookshanks, was lounging comfortably in Hermione's arms.
"Good morning," Maurise said.
"Good morning," Ron replied grumpily. His gaze landed on Maurise and lingered. "Maurise, did you get new robes?"
"Yes," Maurise replied, sounding a bit surprised as he adjusted his cuffs. "I did not think anyone would notice."
He was currently wearing a brand-new set of pale grey wizarding robes. Outwardly, they looked quite plain, but upon closer inspection, the material was peculiar, as if woven from fine, incredibly soft scales.
His previous robes simply could no longer keep up with his needs. These were his newly customized robes, which had only arrived a few days ago. The material was supposedly the hide of some magical creature.
He had woven numerous enchantments into the fabric, inscribed an array of defensive runes, and integrated an updated version of his Undead Containment Array.
Speaking of which, the Undead Containment Array was now located right on his sleeve. Its physical footprint had been drastically reduced, shrinking to about half the size of a fist.
Ron stared at Maurise's robes for a few seconds before abruptly changing the subject. "By the way, did you get your dress robes sorted out?"
"Dress robes?" Maurise frowned in confusion. "What dress robes?"
'Ah, this topic again.' Harry, standing beside them, wore a distinctly subtle expression.
Ron had been throwing a fit for days over the awful, secondhand dress robes Mrs. Weasley had procured for him.
"It was on our school supply list," Ron pointed out. "You didn't forget, did you?"
Maurise shook his head.
"I will just wear these," he said, tugging lightly at his sleeve. "They have built-in Scouring Charms and Auto-Repairing Charms. They are completely waterproof and fireproof, and they have an extensive amount of internal storage space."
Hearing this, Harry instantly became interested. "Which shop did you buy those from?"
If possible, he would love to get his hands on a set just like them. Those features sounded incredibly convenient.
Maurise answered, "I bought them from an artisan who specializes in custom wizarding robes."
"Custom?" Ron asked casually. "That must have been terribly expensive, right?"
"Not too bad," Maurise shrugged. "I think they are well worth the price. They only cost about the same as a single Firebolt. Do you not think that is brilliant?"
"A Firebolt?!"
Not just Ron, but Harry and Hermione both stared with wide eyes.
"You were definitely swindled," Ron said with absolute certainty. "What kind of robes could possibly be worth that much money?"
Maurise simply smiled.
He actually thought he had gotten a rather good deal.
While they were talking, the rest of the Weasley family trickled through the barrier one by one.
George was the first to jog over, slinging an arm over Maurise's shoulder with a grin. "How was your week? You didn't get hurt at the Quidditch World Cup, did you?"
"No," Maurise replied. "But Kyle's tent was nearly burned down. I was sharing it with him at the time."
"That is awful," Fred frowned, his smile fading slightly. "That must have been a massive loss. Those magical tents cost a fortune."
Maurise waved a dismissive hand. "It is fine. Mr. Malfoy has already paid a rather well-deserved price."