Progeny Potion

Kano stayed at the Burrow for a day and finalized the arrangements for the fertility potion.

Kano would be responsible for brewing the potion, with the first batch consisting of twenty bottles for sale. Mr. Weasley would serve as both the potion's living advertisement and distributor, handling sales. Kreacher would be responsible for checking the accounts.

"I said forty-sixty, and forty-sixty it is!"

"I don't agree. It has to be a fixed salary!"

Don't misunderstand—the one proposing a forty-sixty split was Kano, while Mr. Weasley was the one insisting on fixed compensation.

Kano thought that he was not short on money anyway, so it would be good to let the Weasleys take more and improve their lives. But Mr. Weasley felt that he would be taking advantage of Kano and firmly refused to agree. In the end, he set his own pay at the equivalent of one year's salary from his regular job.

In the end, Mrs. Weasley made the final decision and sided with her husband.

"Kano, I know you mean well. But we're not living in such dire poverty. You don't look down on us, do you?"

Once Mrs. Weasley said that, Kano could only raise his hands in surrender and say that he had absolutely no such intention.

"Don't worry, Kano. I'll sell these twenty bottles in two batches. I'll retail five bottles first, then once their effects become apparent, I'll hold an auction. I definitely won't let you lose out."

Mr. Weasley bit the end of his quill and grinned as he drew up a long list of wizarding families struggling to produce heirs.

Kano gave it a brief glance and found that, aside from the Weasley family, nearly every notable family in the wizarding world was on it.

"Don't set the price too outrageously high, Uncle. I'm afraid someone might knock you out one day," Kano warned.

"That's not up to me, Kano. For such an important potion, I don't even dare imagine how wildly it'll sell."

Kano gave a dry laugh. Given how much pure-blood families valued descendants, even if the potion required them to trade their own flesh for it, they would still be groaning their thanks while the knife came down.

"Thank you!"

When Old Parkinson received the first bottle of fertility potion, tears practically burst from his eyes. He clutched the potion tightly and insisted on dragging Mr. Weasley home for a drink.

The main Parkinson line had produced only one daughter in this generation: Pansy Parkinson, who was in Kano's year. But she and Draco had grown up together, and everyone thought they would very likely marry in the future.

Lucius naturally would not object, but Old Parkinson was suffering inside. After he died, the Parkinson family might have to adopt a child from a branch family to inherit the family estate. How could the old man possibly accept that?

Mr. Weasley had to exert tremendous effort to break free from Parkinson's iron grip. He wiped the sweat from his bald head, returned home, and waited quietly.

Before long, the Parkinson family held a celebration banquet and invited many pure-blood families. At the banquet, the men gathered around Old Parkinson while the noblewomen surrounded Mrs. Parkinson, all asking for the secret to pregnancy.

"The Weasley family sold it to me. It really works!"

As soon as Mrs. Parkinson said that, everyone immediately let out sounds of realization. After all, the Weasleys had always had many children, and people had spitefully given them all sorts of nicknames.

Things like "pure-blood goblins" and "pure-blood beggars," mocking them for having many children but earning little. But honestly, if they could have children, who would want to gamble everything on a single heir?

A storm quietly swept through the pure-blood wizarding families.

The topics wizards used to greet one another changed from Galleons, manors, and dragons to "Bought it?", "Drank it?", and "Got one?"

After a crowd of pure-blood wizards cornered Mr. Weasley outside his home, he finally "reluctantly" announced that the auction would be held the day after tomorrow.

On the day of the auction, Diagon Alley.

Old Parkinson stood at the entrance with a face full of joy. This was one of his family's unused properties. The moment he heard that Mr. Weasley was holding an auction, he immediately lent it out and had it arranged as the venue.

One luxurious carriage after another, drawn by winged horses or Thestrals, stopped outside. Pair after pair of finely dressed pure-blood wizards stepped down from the carriages and entered the venue.

Behind the curtain, Mr. Weasley watched the people entering. Nearly everyone on the list he had drawn up was there.

House-elves moved through the crowd, offering drinks to the distinguished guests, while fairies danced beautifully as an opening performance. Yet no one had the mood to drink or watch.

At last, the plump Mrs. Weasley appeared onstage carrying a tray. Fifteen bottles of fertility potion gave off a soft white glow beneath the lights.

As casually as if she were setting down a pot of stew in the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley plunked the tray onto a small table.

A collective gasp came from below. Someone nearly failed to hold back a reminder for her to be more careful.

"I don't know how to do this sort of thing either. I have no idea why Arthur made me come up here to sell it."

The moment Mrs. Weasley spoke, quite a few people below felt sour inside.

Because you can have children, Madam!

"All right, I'll name the price. The starting bid is five thousand Galleons."

The price was certainly not low—roughly equivalent to five years' salary for a mid-level manager at the Ministry of Magic.

Yet the wizards below showed no surprise. They silently began raising their bidding paddles.

"Crabbe, fifty-six hundred. Mm. Prewett, seven thousand. Mm," Mrs. Weasley drawled lazily from the stage.

The wizards cursed inwardly. Everyone knew your maiden name was Prewett. There was no need to remind us just because you thought we were bidding too slowly.

The auction immediately entered a fever pitch. One high bid after another was called out, and the increments rose from one hundred Galleons at a time to five hundred at a time, until finally...

"Fifteen thousand Galleons!" Borgin, stooped over with slick, greasy hair, tossed aside his bidding paddle, jumped onto his chair, and howled with his wand raised.

"Twelve thousand!" Lucius rose to his feet through gritted teeth, holding two property deeds in his other hand. "And two shops in Diagon Alley!"

"Sorry, this round only accepts Galleons." Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Fifteen thousand. Any higher bids?"

Borgin was the owner of Borgin and Burkes, the Dark Arts shop. His liquid funds were among the greatest in the room.

"Third call. No more bids? Then this bottle of fertility potion goes to Mr. Borgin."

Borgin immediately jumped onto the stage, paying with one hand and taking the goods with the other. On the spot, he drank half the bottle and fed the remaining half to his wife.

For a moment, those below who had been planning to kill and rob afterward gritted their teeth in secret. The others had already drunk the potion—what could they do now?

Another four bottles of potion sold for high prices, all acquired by wizarding families with large amounts of liquid capital on hand.

"Considering that many of you indeed have no cash on hand, the creator of the fertility potion has made a temporary decision: starting with the next bottle, property deeds may be used as collateral." Mrs. Weasley took the note passed to her from behind and read it unhurriedly.

A goblin in a neat suit emerged from backstage, looking every bit like a professional bloodsucker from Gringotts.

The auction was paused for half an hour. The goblin sat below the stage, continuously appraising the property deeds the wizards brought to him.

Kano remained hidden in the shadows, watching the old wizards who had gone red-eyed with satisfaction.