The next couple of days passed in the blink of an eye.
With Bill preparing to leave for Egypt in a few weeks, the Burrow remained lively from morning until night. Neighbors and friends dropped by to congratulate him, Mrs. Weasley insisted on preparing enough food to feed twice the number of guests, and somewhere amidst all the celebrations the twins continued inventing new ways to annoy Percy.
A small farewell gathering was even held for Bill's departure, giving everyone an opportunity to wish him luck on the next stage of his life.
Surprisingly, however, I found myself spending very little time with the twins.
Instead, most of my days were spent with Mr. Weasley.
The more time I spent watching him work, the more I realized how badly the wizarding world underestimated Arthur Weasley.
Most people saw him as an eccentric Ministry employee obsessed with Muggle artifacts.
They were wrong.
Arthur possessed an extraordinary engineering intuition.
He wasn't formally trained as an inventor, nor was he an enchanter like Professor Flitwick, but he had an instinct for understanding how objects worked and, more importantly, why they were designed that way.
It suddenly made perfect sense where Fred and George had inherited their creativity.
While helping him dismantle and reassemble various Muggle devices that had stopped functioning after prolonged exposure to magic, our conversation naturally drifted toward my own research.
"So, what exactly has been troubling you?" Arthur asked as he carefully removed several gears from an old cassette recorder.
I leaned back in my chair.
"The projection device."
"The one you gave everyone for Christmas?"
I nodded.
"The current version can only store a single projection. I want one device capable of storing many different projections that the user can freely choose between."
Arthur looked at me curiously.
"And why can't it?"
"I haven't figured out a practical method yet. Every solution I've tried either makes the enchantment unstable or far too complicated."
He hummed thoughtfully.
Then, without even looking up from the object in his hands, he asked,
"Why do they all need to be inside the same device?"
I blinked.
"What?"
Arthur finally looked up.
"Why are you trying to fit everything into one object?"
I frowned.
"Because..."
The answer refused to come.
Arthur smiled knowingly.
Instead of explaining, he stood up and wandered over to a pile of discarded Muggle electronics occupying one corner of the room.
Most had long since stopped functioning around magic.
He rummaged through them for nearly a minute before pulling something free.
He held it out.
A compact disc player.
I stared at it.
Completely confused.
"A CD player?"
Arthur simply smiled and waited.
I took the device from him.
At first, it made no sense whatsoever.
Then...
My eyes slowly widened.
The device itself didn't contain all the music.
The information wasn't built into the player.
It simply read interchangeable discs.
The player remained the same.
Only the medium changed.
My breathing unconsciously quickened.
Why had I been trying to enchant every projection permanently into the projector itself?
That had been the wrong approach from the very beginning.
What I actually needed wasn't a more complicated projector.
I needed magical storage media.
Individual enchanted discs.
Anything capable of storing a single projection independently.
The projector would simply read whichever storage medium was inserted into it.
Just like a CD player.
Just like...
I suddenly saw dozens of solutions branching out from that single realization.
Replaceable projection discs.
Entire collections.
Educational libraries.
Months.
I had been stuck on the same problem for months.
And Arthur had unknowingly solved it with a single question.
I stood up so abruptly that the chair nearly toppled over.
Before I even realized what I was doing, I stepped forward and wrapped Mr. Weasley in a hug.
He froze for a second before awkwardly patting my back.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley."
I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice.
"You have no idea how long this problem has been haunting me."
Arthur laughed warmly.
"I don't think I solved anything."
"You didn't."
I pulled back, unable to stop smiling.
"You simply reminded me that I was trying to solve the wrong problem."
Sometimes, the greatest breakthroughs didn't come from finding new answers.
They came from finally asking the right question.
That evening, I was in such a good mood that even the Weasleys found it unusual.
For perhaps the first time since arriving at the Burrow, I wasn't buried in my own thoughts or absentmindedly planning ten steps ahead. Instead, I found myself smiling for no particular reason, joining in the twins' jokes, laughing at Charlie's stories about magical creatures, and even answering Percy's questions about the projection enchantments with far more enthusiasm than usual.
The sudden change didn't go unnoticed.
Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she watched me laugh at one of Fred's terrible jokes.
Then her gaze slowly shifted toward the twins.
"What did you two do?"
The twins looked at each other innocently.
"We didn't do anything."
"For once."
Mrs. Weasley folded her arms.
"I don't believe you."
"Mum!"
"We're offended."
"You should be."
She continued looking between the two of them before her expression suddenly changed.
"Wait..."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"You didn't feed Alastair any experimental sweets, did you?"
The twins gasped in exaggerated horror.
"Mum!"
"How could you accuse us of something so cruel?"
"We haven't even bought any experimental sweets yet."
Fred received an elbow to the ribs from George.
"Ow!"
Mrs. Weasley's eyes narrowed even further.
"I knew it."
I couldn't help laughing.
"It's nothing like that, Mrs. Weasley."
She looked unconvinced.
"Then why are you so cheerful today?"
I glanced toward Mr. Weasley, who simply smiled into his cup of tea without saying a word.
"I finally solved a research problem that's been troubling me for months."
Mrs. Weasley's expression immediately softened.
"Well, that's wonderful, dear."
Then she pointed her serving spoon at me.
"That deserves celebrating."
Before I could protest, another generous helping appeared on my plate.
"And since you're all leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow, everyone is eating properly tonight."
A chorus of groans immediately rose from around the table.
"Mum..."
"I'm full."
"I can't eat another bite."
Mrs. Weasley remained unmoved.
"Nonsense."
She looked around the table.
"You'll all be growing children until I say otherwise."
Even Bill, who was an adult, wisely chose not to argue.
Watching every Weasley surrender without a fight told me all I needed to know about who truly ruled the Burrow.
Later that night, after everyone had retired to their rooms, I found myself sitting at the small desk in the Twin's room with parchment spread across every available surface.
The excitement from earlier still hadn't faded.
Instead of enchantment equations, however, tonight's parchments contained sketches.
Circular discs.
Locking mechanisms.
Magical grooves designed to guide mana through predefined paths.
One sheet became five.
Five became ten.
Every few minutes another idea would strike me, sending my quill racing across the parchment before the inspiration disappeared.
For the first time, the projector no longer felt like an distant dream.
I could finally see the complete design taking shape.
The projector itself would become merely the reader.
The true magic would lie within the interchangeable projection discs.
Different discs for different memories.
Different lessons.
Different entertainment.
Different purposes.
The possibilities seemed endless.
By the time I finally set my quill down, the first light of dawn was beginning to creep through the window.
Stacks of blueprints covered the desk.
I leaned back in my chair and smiled.
Tomorrow we would return to Hogwarts.
And with us, I would carry an idea that had the potential to change not just my little invention...
...but perhaps magical entertainment and education itself.
__________________________
Support me on p@treon(chapter 107):
[email protected]/blaze98