Madam Lawson clearly had not expected Maurise's broomstick to be so incredibly fast.
The moment she kicked off, the sheer acceleration violently threw her upper body backward, nearly causing her to slip right off the polished handle. Fortunately, her reflexes were exceptionally sharp, and her flying technique was solid. She barely managed to stabilize herself in time.
She proceeded to test the broomstick for a full half-hour.
During that time, she executed a dizzying array of advanced Quidditch maneuvers. Even though Maurise knew next to nothing about the sport itself, it was glaringly obvious that her flying skills far surpassed Harry's.
Finally, Madam Lawson brought the broomstick down.
"Incredible," she gasped, her face flushed with exhilaration. Still panting heavily, she magically produced a roll of parchment from thin air and handed it to Maurise. "I managed to jot down some performance data while I was up there."
Maurise took the parchment and glanced down.
The page was densely packed with various metrics. Acceleration rate, absolute top speed, turning sensitivity...
How on earth had she managed to record all this while flying at such breakneck speeds?
Maurise looked up, asking the question he cared about most. "How does it compare to the Firebolt?"
"It surpasses it in absolutely every single aspect," Madam Lawson stated slowly, emphasizing every word. She was not joking in the slightest. "Except for comfort... but that is entirely irrelevant, especially for professional Quidditch players. Honestly, I believe its speed pushed the absolute limits of my control."
"That is good to hear," Maurise nodded in satisfaction.
Immediately following that, Madam Lawson fired off a rapid barrage of questions.
"Which company manufactured this broomstick? Who is the designer? And wait, its origins are completely legal, correct?"
She clearly recognized the immense value of the artifact in her hands.
Maurise answered simply, "I crafted this broomstick myself."
The moment he spoke, Madam Lawson's eyes lit up like blazing torches, as if she had just stumbled upon a priceless, legendary treasure.
"Then, young man," she immediately stated, "let us discuss a formal business partnership."
She spoke so quickly it seemed she was terrified the opportunity might slip away if she paused for even a second.
"Just call me Maurise." Maurise smiled faintly.
---
His negotiation with Madam Lawson lasted for a full two and a half hours.
Through their conversation, it became abundantly clear that while Madam Lawson was a passionate Quidditch enthusiast, she was first and foremost an incredibly shrewd businesswoman.
Legally selling a new model of flying broomstick was far more complicated than Maurise had initially anticipated. It even required formal registration and approval from the Ministry of Magic's Broom Regulatory Control department. Fortunately, Madam Lawson assured him she could personally handle all the necessary bureaucratic red tape.
As a side note, Maurise decided to name his broomstick series the "Phantom." It held no profound, hidden meaning, but choosing a widely recognizable and appealing name was never a bad idea.
Ultimately, Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley became the sole, exclusive distributor for the Phantom series broomsticks in all of Britain.
By the time Maurise finally stepped out of the shop, the sky had already begun to darken.
The streetlamps lining Diagon Alley flickered to life one after another. He glanced back over his shoulder. The young clerk was waving enthusiastically at him through the display window, a massive grin plastered across his face. Maurise had sold him a first-generation Phantom at an incredibly steep discount.
He reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the crisp parchment. It was the formal partnership contract they had just signed. According to the terms of the agreement, he was required to deliver exactly twelve Phantom broomsticks within two weeks for an initial, trial-run sale.
Maurise silently calculated the time required in his head. He could probably churn them all out in a single night. Since his production capacity was entirely reliant on his own two hands, he could not simply outsource the manufacturing process to a factory like standard broomstick companies did.
Before heading home, Maurise took a detour into Knockturn Alley. It was still relatively early, and he planned to crash at Frick's place for a free meal.
However, Knockturn Alley felt decidedly abnormal today.
As Maurise strolled down the narrow, crooked street wearing his bone mask, he could clearly sense that the atmosphere was wrong. Usually, around this time, while the alley was never exactly bustling, there would always be a few shady figures hurrying past or suspicious peddlers squatting in dark corners, hawking completely untraceable goods.
But today, it was far too quiet.
Along the way, aside from a mangy dog urinating against a brick wall, he had not encountered a single living soul.
Just then, two figures suddenly materialized directly in front of him.
"Halt." A cold, authoritative voice rang out.
Maurise stopped in his tracks, looking up without changing his expression.
Two people stepped out from the deep shadows of the alley, completely blocking his path. They were wearing standard Auror uniforms, and they both looked remarkably young. Wait a minute... were these not familiar faces?
Maurise recognized them instantly. They were the exact same two young Aurors who had suffered a humiliating defeat at his hands right in front of Minister Fudge not too long ago. What an incredible coincidence.
The male Auror took a step forward, eyeing Maurise with intense suspicion.
"Remove your mask," he ordered sternly.
Maurise complied. With a casual wave of his hand, the bone mask dissolved into motes of white light and vanished into the air.
These two should certainly remember him.
Sure enough, the moment the male Auror got a clear look at his face, his expression shifted dramatically. It was as if he had just seen a ghost.
He opened and closed his mouth twice before finally managing a much softer tone. "Oh, it is you, Mr. Black."
He naturally had a very deep impression of this particular Hogwarts student. After all, not only had the boy thoroughly embarrassed them in front of the Minister, but his actions had also resulted in them receiving formal disciplinary action.
Maurise nodded politely. "Long time no see."
He had completely forgotten their names... actually, no, he had never known them in the first place.
"Yes, it has been quite a while," the female Auror added, her tone noticeably much warmer than their previous encounter.
"However, I do not believe this is the proper time for idle chitchat," she continued urgently. "I must warn you, Mr. Black, Knockturn Alley is exceptionally dangerous tonight. You need to leave immediately."
"What exactly happened?" Maurise asked curiously.
The two Aurors exchanged a quick glance, seemingly weighing whether or not they should disclose classified information to a student. Ultimately, the female Auror decided to speak.
"The Ministry received an anonymous tip claiming that a vicious pack of werewolves is organizing a gathering in this area tonight," she explained, lowering her voice significantly. "While it could very well be a hoax, we are required to thoroughly sweep the perimeter regardless."
Werewolves?
A sudden realization hit Maurise. He tilted his head back, peering up at the sliver of sky visible between the leaning buildings. Although the moon was not directly visible from within the cramped alleyway, wasn't tonight a full moon?
According to what Lupin had told him previously, certain malevolent werewolves actively sought out densely populated areas right before their transformation, intentionally attacking innocent people to exact revenge on society. If a large pack of them gathered here, it would undoubtedly turn into an absolute massacre.
It was perfectly reasonable for the Aurors to be dispatched to handle it.
"Is it just the two of you?" Maurise lowered his gaze back to the Aurors.
The male Auror shook his head firmly. "Of course not. We have multiple squads stationed at every major intersection, and there are heavily armed strike teams on standby just outside the perimeter... Ah, I should not have said that much. Regardless, we need to escort you to a safe zone immediately."
Maurise signaled his understanding. "Alright, I will leave. But there is no need for an escort."
With that, he turned and began walking back the way he came.
Interfering with official Ministry business was generally frowned upon, and he was not an unreasonable person. He would just find a quiet corner and teleport back to his ship.
Simultaneously, the two Aurors turned and hurried down an intersecting side alley to continue their patrol.
However, Maurise had barely taken three steps when several bloodcurdling, bone-chilling wolf howls suddenly erupted from the exact same alley the Aurors had just entered.
"..."
What were the odds?