Prima materia was usually not large in volume or heavy in weight. To make a Philosopher's Stone as big as Nicolas Flamel's, a dozen or so grams of prima materia would be enough.
And a Philosopher's Stone that large, carefully regulated, could supply more than ten magic-metal factories.
If there really were tens of thousands of tons of prima materia on the moon that could be mined and brought back, then for at least a hundred years, there would be no need to worry too much about a shortage of magic power.
"Work hard. Try to land on the moon within a year," Murphy encouraged.
With magic as support, a moon landing would not require a rocket as enormous as Saturn V. A slight modification of existing rocket models would be enough to send people into lunar orbit, so landing on the moon within a year was not an especially exaggerated task.
Even so, even under the best projections, it would still take more than a year before they could use magic power from moon-produced prima materia.
And whether that prima materia could be used directly was still unknown.
Murphy did not plan to put all his eggs in one basket. After making arrangements for the moon-landing plan, he returned to the British Ministry of Magic beneath London.
To avoid disturbing anyone, Murphy visited through the fireplace and appeared in the first-floor hall.
He had not been to the Ministry of Magic in a long time, and many of the arrangements here looked different from before.
The fountain in the first-floor hall had originally held a statue of the Magical Brethren: a wizard holding his wand aloft in an exaggerated pose, surrounded by a witch, a Centaur, a Goblin, and a House-elf.
But now the center of the fountain had