Hogwarts: The Wizarding World's First Capitalist

"How can you be so stingy?"

In the Hufflepuff common room, Carl was sitting on the sofa alone, worrying about his own mistakes. He had just returned from the headmaster's office.

In that room, that stingy old Deng spoke sarcastically as soon as he saw him.

"Isn't this the great Mr. Hoffenzollern? Why don't you develop your organization and earn your money in school?"

"Why are you interested in wasting your precious time today to come and visit your principal? I've made it clear in advance that I can't afford to compensate you for wasting all this time and the losses you've caused."

Before he could even make a request, Old Deng started to lecture him, and then used magic to kick him out of the principal's office.

Back in the Hufflepuff common room, Carl thought carefully about what he had done recently.

I have indeed been a bit naughty recently, but I have done nothing but develop an organization within Hogwarts like Voldemort did.

He robbed Gringotts Bank, placed his own people in the British Ministry of Magic, and threatened to manipulate the personnel arrangements of the Ministry of Magic.

He attempted to interfere in the British Prime Minister election and turned 80% of Hogwarts' property, except the castle, into personal property through various means.

I didn't do anything excessive. Overall, I was a very obedient student who loved to study, respected teachers, and united with classmates.

There is no need to get so angry and act as if you have done something wrong.

Carl, who had completed the moral cycle in his mind, began to blame Dumbledore for being ungrateful and for his good intentions in preparing to give him some family love.

He actually used morality to accuse himself, while on the other hand he said that love is the greatest magic in the world.

On the other hand, he completely ignored my efforts. It's really double standard. It's all that old man's fault. There is absolutely no problem on my part.

After emphasizing it several times in his mind, Carl couldn't help but sigh deeply. After all, even if the old man was wrong first.

He had to ask him for help when it was time. He had just carefully studied Professor Flitwick's paper.

It was discovered that in the manufacturing process of the magic lithography machine, its core optical components do require the support of ancient magic.

So he tried to calm down and started thinking about what gift could make Old Deng calm down.

Generally speaking, cake is the best dish at this time, but he was troubled about choosing the flavor.

At this moment, Kevin Lestrange, a first-year student, ended his lunch break and prepared to go to the afternoon class.

"You're just in time." Carl called out to the other person, looked at his still cute face, and suddenly asked.

"If I want to apologize to someone, I'm going to give him a cake I made myself, if that person is you."

"What flavor do you think is best?"

"what???"

Kevin Lestrange suddenly became nervous, his face looked extremely panicked, and his hands kept moving up and down.

"You...you...why do you have such an idea?"

"I just feel that I have been a little too indifferent to that person's feelings during this period of time."

"I want to ease the relationship between the two parties."

"Is that so?" A barely perceptible surprise flashed across Kevin Lestrange's face, and his expression gradually became happy and proud.

"There's actually no need to hug or apologize or anything like that, and there's no need for gifts either. Just be fair and just. Being too partial is not good."

"But then again, if I have to give it as a gift, I would accept it. I like the refreshing smell of lemon and citrus."

"By the way, don't add so much sugar if you can."

"Is that so!!" Carl nodded slightly, smiled brightly and said gently.

“Thank you for your valuable advice, it helps me a lot.”

"It's okay, I can accept the apology." Kevin Lestrange muttered a few words under his breath, and then immediately left the common room.

He came to a secluded corner of the corridor, took out a notebook he carried with him, and began to record everything.

There was a work report written on the cover of the notebook, which was a record of Carl's daily behavior according to Grindelwald's request.

Although it is called a work report, it is almost like a diary and a confession.

Most of the above content is.

"Saturday, September 9th. I spent a week with the Dumbledore heir. I have to admit that he is a very charming person."

"He's got this elegant, eccentric demeanor, and one minute he could be writing letters to his congressmen in gorgeous Gothic script."

"And in the next second, he can drag me to play cards, and remind me that his gambling skills are very superb. I lost 20 gold galleons."

At first glance, this work report seems relatively normal, but in the corner of this page, the author wrote in a very panicked handwriting.

"My light, please forgive my fall. I have never seen a boy who can emit such an alluring light. Why are his arms and neck so smooth and beautiful?"

As time goes by, this tone gradually increases.

"On September 9th, Dumbledore's heir and that damned idiot were working out in the room. I never imagined I would encounter such a scene."

"When the sweat flowed down the gaps between his muscles, that damn feeling came back to me."

"My light please forgive me."

At the same time, complaints about Cedric also occupy the vast majority of the article.

"On September 9, I met the man in the room for the first time. He had a smell that I hated."

"This feeling is very subtle. It reminds me of a certain bastard wearing a mask. Their smell is very similar."

"Even his behavior is the same. Every move he makes reveals clumsiness and stupidity. I really don't understand why he could win the favor of Dumbledore's heir."

"On September 9, I was a little overwhelmed. Although I was only undercover, my heart will always belong to my light."

“Even if you’re playing a role, the unfair treatment you receive from being under the same roof still makes you angry.”

"That damn annoying guy is simply a good-for-nothing. Dumbledore's heir has a habit."

"He would make eight small cakes every night for the next day's breakfast and bring them into the room at night."

"In the third drawer on the left side of his desk, for whenever we fall asleep or that bastard works too late."

"He would steal those little cakes, sometimes three, sometimes four. I don't understand why he was stolen so many times."

"Dumbledore's heir, why don't you hide those cakes somewhere else? Could it be that being with someone for too long really affects each other's IQ?"