Nothing on the desk had been touched.

"Professor?" Lucas made a struggling attempt to redirect Snape's attention.

Snape settled into his seat.

"Bring out your questions." He extended a hand toward Lucas.

Lucas exhaled. He passed over his notebook, but for the first time in his life, even as Snape explained, his eyes kept drifting across the desk.

"Did you follow that?" Snape closed Lucas's notebook.

"Yes, you explained it very clearly, Professor." Lucas answered respectfully.

Snape was not satisfied. He rapped the desk with his knuckles. "You weren't paying attention. What distracted you? Repeat back what I just explained."

Lucas had a very bad feeling about this.

He answered Snape's question while stealing glances at the exact spot Snape had knocked.

Sure enough, a tiny black figure was darting from cover to cover, running straight toward the source of the sound.

Lucas kept reciting the answer he'd just heard.

Snape wasn't blind. He caught a flash of something black moving through the papers.

The Potions professor kept his expression neutral and gave his sleeve a small tug. Then he moved fast, snatching up a stack of upper-year essays.

The little figure had been using the essays as cover. Suddenly exposed, he froze for just a moment, then his tiny wand fired several small pebbles at Snape with a series of soft pops.

SMACK. Snape hadn't quite made out what the thing was, but the essays in his hand were already coming down.

Lucas threw up a hand. The stack struck the back of it, and with his other hand he snatched the little figure to safety.

The figure was prickly to hold. He struggled in Lucas's grip until Lucas shoved him into a pocket.

"Take it out." Snape's eyes were dangerous.

"Professor, I only made a little figurine on a whim."

Lucas had a feeling he wasn't going to talk his way out of this, but wishful thinking is universal.

Snape gave him very little room to maneuver. "You may choose to let me Petrify you and retrieve the object myself, or you can explain yourself right now."

Lucas hesitated, snuck a glance at Snape, found Snape still staring, and quickly resumed his most contrite expression.

"Can you promise not to get angry if I tell you?" Lucas attempted to negotiate.

Not a chance. Snape smiled to himself, cold and silent.

But what he said aloud was: "That depends on the severity of what you've done."

"No school rules were broken, no one was hurt, and you are the professor I respect most!" Lucas launched into a frantic string of disclaimers.

He could not escape the fate of surrendering his creation.

Lucas reached into his pocket with excruciating slowness and set a small black object on the desk.

Snape looked closely.

He half wondered if he was seeing things.

A tiny figure faced him in an attacking stance, standing vigilantly between Lucas and Snape, ready at any moment to protect Lucas.

"Graham, tell me — what is this thing?" Snape's silken voice dropped to its lowest register as he fixed a dangerous look on Lucas.

Lucas startled.

"It's just... leftover material from sculpting. I made a... you." Lucas had never felt this mortified in his life.

He didn't usually get caught when he was up to something.

The office fell silent. Snape absorbed what Lucas had made. The figure had no facial features, yet its bearing and every small movement were almost identical to his own.

Lucas was reflecting on his own carelessness. He could have made it in the dormitory, in the Forbidden Forest, he could have filled an entire room with them and no one would ever have known.

And yet here he was, caught in Snape's office.

Something clicked for Snape. He suddenly asked, "I seem to recall your ambition was to be a painter. Tell me, Professor-who-was-kept-in-the-dark — is this the sort of thing a painter does?"

Lucas felt the hair on his arms stand on end.

"No — painting was only my earliest dream. My dream now is to be your apprentice and learn the precious art of Potions. Art is interconnected; the art of painting and the art of sculpture aren't so different..."

He was talking while reaching for the figure on the desk.

He had anticipated Snape's move. Snape's hand closed on empty air. His expression darkened, and he drew his wand on Lucas.

"Stand still! You were going to walk out of here with that thing?" From initially finding it merely strange, Snape was now genuinely angry.

"I just think it would be such a waste!" Lucas had already started calculating whether to dodge when the spell came flying.

Though honestly, he thought it more likely Snape would simply vault over the desk and tackle him.

"This piece was completed on the spot. It captured my instantaneous memory of you. If I tried to recreate it later, it would be very hard for any second version to be this... perfect."

Alchemical masters were precious about their work.

And besides, this little figure would stand in front of Snape and protect him.

"You made him in my likeness, don't I have every right to destroy him? Don't make me say it twice, Graham. Hand it over!"

The two of them faced each other in a standoff across the desk.

Lucas tried to identify the crux of it. He ventured carefully: "What do you think I would do with this thing?"

Snape's expression soured.

He didn't answer directly.

But he thought about what others at the school were known to do. A few fragments from his own student days surfaced in his memory.

Lucas watched closely and softened his tone. "I only made a moving figure to watch walk around. I would never use him for amusement..."

He caught the slight twitch in Snape's expression.

That was it.

"Look at him, he even steps in front of me to protect me from harm. Professor, let me keep him. I promise I won't leave him lying around."

Snape felt himself falling into a strange trap. This was Lucas's honeyed tongue at work again. He ought to stay on guard, this young wizard had an uncanny ability to find his way to the very thing Snape cared about.

But this was the first time Lucas had ever fought so hard to keep something.

Snape pressed down the odd feeling rising inside him.

He regarded the little figure squirming in Lucas's hands with visible distaste. "It looks like he's putting considerable effort into escaping your control."

Lucas had nothing to say to that.

He looked at Snape, very much wanting to point out that the figure had been made to reflect Snape's own personality.

The figure was prickly. Seeing signs that Snape might be softening, Lucas shifted to cradling him in both hands, holding him out for Snape to see properly.

Snape crossed his arms, expression one of pure disdain, with no indication he intended to take the thing.

What rekindled his urge to destroy it: the figure had also crossed his arms, and was now sizing Snape up with an arrogant look from head to toe.

This thing was genuinely irritating to look at.

Snape took a deep breath. He reached out and flicked the little figure hard on the head, out of spite.

The tiny Snape tumbled and landed sitting in the center of Lucas's palm.

"It stays in my office only." Snape offered his compromise at last. Then he asked: "How long before the magic on this thing wears off?"

The little apprentice hedged and stammered, glancing at the ceiling, then the floor.

"Lucas?" Snape's tone carried a clear threat.

"I believe he won't expire." Lucas answered quietly. "It's a permanent enchantment. He will continue to exist until the wizard who cast the spell dies."

➤ Next: Pioneer Entrepreneur

Chapter 253 - Pioneer Entrepreneur

Marcus had a new business land in his lap.

That day, Lucas came back to the dormitory looking like a complete disaster, a Wizard's Chess board tucked under his arm.

"What happened to you?" Marcus asked, though Marcus didn't press for who had done it, at this hour Lucas had been in the Head of House's office, and Marcus didn't really want to know anyway.

"Spell training." Lucas tugged the corner of his mouth into something that wasn't quite a smile.

Lucas set the board down on the desk, unfolded it, and placed the wizard pieces in their designated squares.

Marcus shuffled over in slippers. "Why are you suddenly interested in Wizard's Chess?"

Watching Lucas move the black and white pieces, watching them hack each other apart.

"I have a new business. See if you want to be my agent..." Lucas turned around with an air of deep mystery.

Several weeks later, the Hogwarts professors noticed something odd. A number of students had stopped causing trouble and running in the corridors. Instead they kept appearing at random in empty classrooms, forming circles, and shouting at the tops of their lungs.

Argus Filch burst in multiple times and combed through every student present. Mrs. Norris padded around with equal suspicion.

But even when guilt was written plainly across the students' faces, there was never any evidence to find.

Argus Filch brought the suspicions up with the professors.

After enough incidents, the staff began talking it over in the common room.

"Actually, I know what they're up to." It was Filius Flitwick who spoke.

Speaking in a mysterious tone, and only once every colleague's attention had shifted over, Flitwick continued at an unhurried pace: "There's been a craze lately — a kind of Movable Tin Soldier. Made in the shape of wizards. A bit like Wizard's Chess, but with many different ways to play."

Severus Snape's hand paused mid-page. Snape pinched the corner without turning it and kept very still, listening.

"No wonder Argus Filch can't catch them — Filch said he couldn't believe all the young witches and wizards had fallen in love with Wizard's Chess." Professor McGonagall said with sudden understanding. Argus Filch simply hadn't noticed the shape of the pieces.

"This doesn't sound like it breaks any school rules." Pomona Sprout thought it over carefully and said with considerable optimism: "If they're playing with these things and it means less running in the corridors and fewer pranks, then it's a good toy."

"Their purpose in coming to this school is to learn, not to cause as little trouble as possible." Snape closed the book in his hands.

Snape had already guessed who was behind it.

Lucas Graham. Selling these things among the students.

SLAM. Lucas's essay landed on the desk in front of him.

Lucas looked at the glaring A marked on it, turned serious immediately, and combed through every one of Snape's annotations with care.

Aconite should be referred to as monkshood — abbreviations do not convey expertise.

The long word here is run together in the handwriting...

Lucas let out a breath and set the essay down.

Right now Lucas was probably wrong in everything, down to the way he breathed, but the essay wasn't the real problem. It was something else.

Snape waited like a priest hearing confession.

That alone said the matter wasn't especially serious.

Lucas set about looking for an explanation with practiced ease.

The dungeon office was very quiet.

On the shelf behind Snape stood a square glass tank. Inside was a miniature diorama, the centrepiece a lavishly appointed Potions laboratory, a small cauldron in the middle bubbling away and spitting puffs of stone powder.

"You've started a trend among the students." Snape offered a small hint.

"Yes, Professor. I was trying to earn a bit of pocket money." Lucas picked up the cue without missing a beat.

Snape settled into a listening posture.

And so Snape heard from Lucas about the latest craze sweeping the student body.

First came the original Tin Soldiers, custom-made in the exact likeness of whoever ordered them. They could be kept as a personal pet of sorts, exchanged between couples, or set against sworn enemies to do battle.

The clothing defaulted to a standard pattern. Changing the outfit cost extra Sickles, not much, but students always wanted customisation options beyond the school uniform.

Then came full costume sets and custom accessories. If you were going to duel your enemy, you needed proper equipment. Best to spend a little more, learn a few spells your real self could never actually cast, and grind your rival's Tin Soldier underfoot with great satisfaction.

Snape's expression turned odd.

It sounded like playing house.

Every one of those scenes had been replicated inside Lucas's own office as well. The diorama on the shelf behind Lucas gained something new every single day.

"Do they really spend money on this?" Snape looked at Lucas with open skepticism.

Lucas felt a pang of fellow-feeling. "It's been selling like mad."

At first it was lower-year students buying them for a bit of fun. But the thing grew fast, and the demands kept coming.

Lucas didn't want to deal with the increasingly outlandish orders anymore.

So Lucas found several graduating Slytherin students with potential and distributed the orders among them to handle.

Lucas had put together a set of half-original spells. Most of the charms could be found in the school library; the versions Lucas passed along were simply more convenient to use.

Snape flicked his wand.

A small whirlwind shot from the tip, swept up the Snape figurine, and carried it into his hand.

Snape lifted the figurine by its tiny cloak and held it up.

Lucas very much wanted to snatch it. Barely held back.

"Isn't this easy enough to make? How has no one stolen your business?" Snape asked, still suspicious.

Ah.

Well. It wasn't quite that easy to make, was it.

Lucas smiled a little. "Anyone could try, but counterfeit Tin Soldiers don't interact very well with the ones I produce."

There had actually been an incident. A young Ravenclaw had made a Tin Soldier of their own, and it looked completely indistinguishable from everyone else's.

But the moment it entered a duel, the homemade Tin Soldier suddenly grew enormous and flattened everyone else's flat.

Tin Soldiers were a toy with a social dimension.

Homemade ones lacked the balance and combat calibration. Without those, there was no way to enter the market.

Snape asked one more question: "How much have you made from all this?"

Lucas thought for a moment, then started hedging toward an answer. "The customer base has expanded to all seven years and all four houses. Professor Trelawney heard about it and commissioned a custom one as well. But after deducting material costs, the seventh-year students I've hired, maintenance and promotion..."

Tap. Tap. Tap. Snape knocked on the desk.

Snape set the obsidian figurine down on the table.

The tiny figure's guarded expression looked nothing like Snape at all.

"How much!" Snape pressed.

Snape knew the longer the preamble, the worse the mischief.

Lucas held up three fingers.

"Thirty Galleons?" Snape frowned, visibly unconvinced.

"Three thousand..." Lucas said, voice barely there.

Snape was already on his feet, eyes fixed on Lucas, enunciating every word.

"Three. Thousand. Galleons."

Lucas's cheeks were being pinched out of shape. Blinking with an expression of complete innocence, voice muffled: "Professor, I can explain."

➤ Next: The Risks of Starting a Business