A good story is impactful—especially when there's a driving force behind it.
Magical Legends was already a well-selling magazine. After an internal editorial meeting, they decided to heavily promote the new serialized work. Authorization? Check. Adaptation rights? Check. Official statements? Done. So what was there to hesitate about? Time to launch the promo campaign!
Rivalry among peers is natural, so they didn't bother worrying about competition. They outright bought the front pages of major wizarding newspapers with galleons. Wizarding Wireless Network, Voice of Magic—you name it, they were in. They even paid the Weird Sisters just to squeeze in a plug during their concert intermissions.
While Andrew was diligently practicing Transfiguration, Flourish and Blotts had already hung up a fresh banner at their door:
"Dumbledore: A Legend" — Now Serializing in Magical Legends!
Unsurprisingly, the magazine became a huge hit.
Dumbledore's name alone was the best kind of advertisement. And the story? Genuinely entertaining. The inconsistencies in Andrew's draft were completely "wizard-fied" by several editors, and all the fairytale-like elements were eagerly accepted by witches and wizards raised on magical bedtime stories.
A legendary figure acquiring legendary items? Absolutely logical.
Dumbledore drank from the Fountain of Fair Fortune, wielded the Elder Wand, obtained an ancient potion recipe and successfully brewed it, enrolled at Hogwarts as a "hatstall" genius, and embarrassed the Gont family who had broken off a betrothal (the editors were far less afraid of curses than Andrew). While studying at Hogwarts, he even got his hands on Gryffindor's treasure buried beneath the castle (originally, Andrew had written that he earned the approval of the castle's sentient tower—edited out). Is there a problem with that?
Absolutely none!
The biggest problem with the story was that too many juicy adventure arcs were teased in the preview, and the only part actually released was Dumbledore acquiring the ancient potion recipe!
"When is next month's Magical Legends coming out already?!"
"Can't you guys learn from Lockhart and just release the whole adventure in one go?!"
With readers debating and cursing in equal measure, Magical Legends printed two extra editions—within just three days.
At this point, even Lockhart's bestselling adventure books were overtaken. After all, Magical Legends didn't raise the price, and the magazine was already mass-market. The cost-performance ratio was unbeatable.
Unfortunately, Andrew—the instigator behind this phenomenon—remained completely unaware. Though the increased manuscript fee and editor's letter were already en route by owl, he had just woken up, washed up quickly, and headed out for a morning run.
It was a habit he'd developed since arriving—running fast solves many problems.
If Apparition weren't so difficult, it would've been the first magic he learned.
Run, eat, revise a few drafts, and then it was time for study.
Now that he had solved the "galleon" issue—something that could tackle most wizarding-world problems—he could finally try learning spells and Transfiguration.
As for Potions... the lingering memories of lab safety rules kept him too uneasy to try brewing anything at the orphanage. After skimming through the required ingredients and identifying common herbs, he shelved the book.
He hadn't received any notice forbidding underage magic yet, but he suspected that this freedom wouldn't last. Even the speed-run film explanations emphasized how spellcasting was banned during summer vacation. He figured his magical window would close once term started.
"Alohomora…"
Andrew studied this charm—said to be able to unlock most locks—and wondered what wizards used it for nowadays. (In the 1600s, Eldon Elsrickle learned it from an old African wizard and used it to rob Muggle and wizard homes across London.)
He pulled an old, rusting lock from the drawer—something from the orphanage's storage room.
It was practically corroded shut, but he figured a bit of graphite might still help.
While muttering observations to himself, he tapped the lock gently with his wand:"Alohomora!"
The spell caused a hoarse click-clack-clack sound, and under the power of magic, the lock popped open.
Clearly, the charm—essentially a wizard's auto-loot cheat for the Muggle world—had worked.
Whether he could master it completely would depend on continued diligent practice.
"Another day starting on a great note…"
Andrew smiled—but something still felt off.
His best Transfiguration spell so far was conjuring a solid needle. The first charm he learned was levitation. Then came Lumos for illumination. Now he was learning how to unlock doors. He was also obsessed with being able to run fast.
Whichever way you looked at it—this path was leading straight to Azkaban.
"Speaking of which… Azkaban…"
A sudden spark of inspiration hit him. He scribbled on a notepad:(A plot about thwarting a dark plot at Azkaban's original site—though the evil experiment wasn't fully stopped, so it became home to Dementors.)
"Now that's worth the manuscript fee! Sew in all the lore you can!"
Andrew set the notepad aside and returned to reading more about Alohomora. To fully master it, he had to be able to cast it under any circumstance. Today's goal was to consistently open this particular lock. After that, he'd move on to different types.
Knock knock knock!
A sound came from the window, followed by more tapping. Andrew looked over and spotted a snowy white owl pecking at the glass.
"Hmm?"
He walked over in puzzlement and let the owl fly in.
"…Huh?"
One look at the letter and Andrew's jaw dropped slightly.
No way. There are people who actually don't fear death?
Don't drag me down with you, you maniacs!
Do you even know who Dumbledore is? You dare mess with that guy?!
Number one in Britain. Took Hogwarts by force. Defeated Grindelwald abroad. Wiped out dark wizards at home. The strongest man in the wizarding world. His students are everywhere. At least 98% of them are in Britain. Stay away from me! Don't get your blood on me!
…This galleon reward though!!!
Andrew froze, stared at the Gringotts bank draft, then rubbed his eyes.
"I guess the editor did have their reasons."
"And to be fair, it's not a lie. Dumbledore was Gryffindor's top student. Recasting the story with him is no big deal. As long as there's no character defamation, the editorial team should be able to handle it."
"I just need to make sure I never write gossip, never write anything negative."
"Right. That's the rule."
Andrew, fully convinced, tucked away the bank draft—enough to cover an entire year's worth of expenses, miscellaneous purchases, and donations to the orphanage—with plenty to spare.
And that… was just one month's manuscript fee.