Not, Bro

"It's just a prank. Besides, he's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Fred shrugged. "If he were competent, he wouldn't have missed the trick with the cookie, don't you think?"

"You have a point," Harry nodded in agreement.

He thought of Dudley again. If he hadn't been to Hogwarts a hundred years ago, perhaps he wouldn't mind bringing back some cookies for Dudley to eat.

Dudley?

Thinking of his gluttonous Muggle cousin, Harry recalled Smeltings Middle School, a private boarding school that meant that those who could attend it... came from well-off families.

If my cousin were to sell these prank gadgets at Smeltings Middle School, would they become a sensation throughout the school?

The Weasley family weren't exactly well-off, but by bringing along replicants and making some money, they could supplement their income, and at least Ron wouldn't have to wear his old robes anymore.

Moreover, the Potter Family doesn't have an inexhaustible fortune; it will run out sooner or later, so they should find some suitable ways to make money.

Hmm, no... Canary Cream Biscuit are too eye-catching. I should think of some harmless little prank props instead.

Thinking of this, Harry looked up and asked Fred and George, "Fred, George, I've just remembered something even more interesting."

"What is it?" the clones asked in unison.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Harry tapped the Canary Cream Biscuit. "I mean, besides this cookie."

"Don't you think Canary Cream Biscuit aren't enough? Want to give Professor Quirrell some other ideas?" Fred and George exchanged a glance and high-fived. "Cool! I knew our Gryffindor Lion King's vision would never be limited—"

"No, I mean, is there something less..." Harry picked up the cookie, "Something less magical? Like, something a little lighter, so Muggle wouldn't notice?"

"We hadn't really thought of that," Fred and George said together, then asked, "So what are you going to do?"

Harry glanced at them both, tapped the table with his finger, and said, "You two know I've always lived with my aunt, right?"

"We know." The two nodded together.

"I have a Muggle cousin who goes to Smeltings Middle School," Harry said again. "If we got him to promote your products in his school..."

At this point, Harry stopped talking, leaving the twins plenty of time to imagine.

The twins exchanged a glance, still not understanding what Harry meant.

"You mean, you want your Muggle cousin to take our products to school and sell them?" Fred asked. "But he's Muggle..."

"That's up to your imagination, you two." Harry tapped his finger on the table. "Muggle ' money can be exchanged for Galleon. If I remember correctly, five Pound Sterling can be exchanged for one Galleon, and the students at my cousin's high school, Smeltings, are all from very wealthy families."

"Very rich?" George's eyes lit up; he was deeply attracted by Harry's promise.

"Very rich," Harry said seriously. "Even if they're not as rich as the Malfoy family, they're not far off."

Harry was comparing the Malfoy family to his own era, when they were at the height of their Malfoy family in the Magical World. Cassandra's father, Septimus Malfoy, wielded considerable influence in the Ministry of Magic. Many even believed that Anxis Osbert, the then Minister for Magic, was merely a puppet of the Malfoy, while Septimus Malfoy was the true leader of the Ministry of Magic.

The Malfoy family now... is somewhat like a weasel giving birth to mice—each litter is worse than the last.

Even so, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse; the Malfoy family ' living conditions were unimaginable to the Weasley family.

Harry's words immediately sparked Fred and George's thinking—yes, Muggle have money, why not go and make money off them?

"We'll go and investigate right away!" Fred and George hurriedly slipped away.

Harry opened his mouth, but he hadn't yet offered any suggestions for revision.

But that's fine too; let them figure it out at their own pace.

To Harry's surprise, Professor Quirrell did not appear in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class for two weeks in a row, and Professor Snape took his place.

This time, the Gryffindor students were in trouble—except for a few who received Extra Lesson, everyone had a large deduction in points.

Although the few people who receive Extra Lesson won't have a large deduction in points, they will still have various minor flaws pointed out, resulting in a deduction of one or two points.

To some extent, Professor Snape achieved a kind of equality; he would never let you off the hook just because you performed well in class.

Snape's expression darkened further after seeing Neville execute the Disarming Charm with remarkable ease.

It wasn't because of Neville's standard Disarming Charm, but because while Neville had some knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts, he was still completely clueless about Potions, like Troll Potions.

With this comparison, Snape's opinion of Neville grew even stronger.

"Mr. Longbottom..." Snape said meaningfully to Neville, "A very standard Disarming Charm. Gryffindor will get two points for your standard spellcasting."

For a split second, all the students in the classroom gasped in unison.

Professor Snape? Are you Professor Snape himself?

Besides Potter, he even gives extra points to other students?!

And it was Longbottom, who performed the worst in Potions Class?!

Neville also looked up in disbelief, his expression clearly saying, "Professor, did you take the wrong Potions?"

Snape wasn't offended at all. He smirked and said coldly, "Given Mr. Longbottom's performance, you will be coming to the Potions classroom with Potter every Wednesday and Saturday for my individual instruction."

Neville's face instantly fell. He never expected that his excellent Disarming Charm would bring him trouble—being severely confined by Professor Snape.

Individual guidance?

Don't be ridiculous. Who doesn't know that Professor Snape's one-on-one tutoring is like enjoying a VIP service of one-on-one Venom baptism?

When class ended, Neville was still a little unable to accept this fact.

"What's wrong, Neville?"

Seeing his roommate so distraught, Ron went over to ask him what was wrong.

"I..." Neville shuddered, "I'm going to be put in solitary confinement by Professor Snape... Oh God, I really hope I'll live to see the sun rise again..."

"Relax, Neville," Seamus reassured Neville. "Things aren't necessarily so bad. Look at Harry, he's still alive and well, isn't he?"

"Yeah, Neville," Harry added, "Professor Snape Neville actually very kind and easy to talk to. I learned a lot of useful things from him when I was in solitary confinement."

Upon hearing this, Neville, Seamus, and Ron all looked at Harry with unusual expressions.

No, buddy!

You can't generalize about people's physical constitutions!