"What method?" Ron asked anxiously.
Silan replied matter-of-factly, "Just buy a new one."
"Buy a new one?!"
Ron slumped onto the sofa like a deflated balloon, sighing weakly, "I wish I could!"
"That's definitely a good idea," George said.
Fred continued, "If you can produce thirty-five Galleon."
Young wizards get a discount on their first wand at Ollivander.
If you buy it later, the price will be several times higher.
This amount of money was an Astronomy sum for Ron.
"35 Galleon?!" Ron practically spat out the words. "Even if you sold me, you couldn't get that many!"
George and Fred patted him on the shoulders, grinning, and said, "Don't be silly, you can't even sell yourself. Even if you were bought, your House-elf would be too clumsy to handle."
"Wrong."
Hermione suddenly frowned and said, "Ron used the old wand from the beginning."
"In fact, he never bought a wand from Ollivander, so..."
"So he only needs seven Galleon?" George and Fred realized as well.
"Yes, how come we didn't think of that!"
"But I still don't have enough money," Ron said, somewhat dejectedly. "Unless our dad wins the lottery and has more money than he can spend."
"You really have wild ideas, Ron."
George and Fred were amused by his exaggerated delusions.
Money is not a problem.
Silan sat on the sofa and took out a Galleon, holding it in her palm.
I can give you the money.
Ron opened his mouth, his face turning bright red, and suddenly began to gasp for breath.
The overwhelming joy made him forget to breathe.
"Thank you, Silan..."
"Don't thank me yet." Silan waved her hand at him, her voice calm. "I hope you understand, there's no such thing as a free lunch."
"If you'd like, you can help me make dragon dung compost."
"I'll give you two Galleon a month, this is the deposit."
Silan pressed the Galleon on the table and pushed it towards him with her fingers.
"You only need to work for three months to get 6 Galleon."
"You should be able to buy a new wand sometime before Christmas."
So, choose.
George and Fred egged him on, "Say yes, Ron!"
"This isn't just picking up dragon dung, it's practically picking up Galleon! I really hope we'll have that kind of opportunity too."
Ron stared at the gleaming Galleon on the table, his lips pressed tightly together, still somewhat hesitant.
Dragon dung smells terrible.
The process of making dragon dung compost is anything but pleasant.
Besides, it's not a respectable thing to say this out loud.
The golden Galleon on the table Winky, and Ron's gaze was unconsciously drawn to it.
His thoughts drifted away.
However, it's only two Galleon per month.
If I work for three months, plus this deposit, I'll have enough to buy a new wand.
"A new wand!"
"A brand new wand that is entirely yours, never used by anyone else, and perfectly suited to you."
People's joys and sorrows are not shared.
No one could possibly understand how much this meant to Ron.
Therefore, none of the people present could perceive the turbulent emotions surging within Ron's heart.
The importance of wands to wizards is self-evident.
It is the wizard's companion and the wizard's dignity.
Now, the opportunity to reclaim his dignity as a wizard is right in front of him, and Ron can't help but be tempted by it.
Silan's eyes remained fixed on Ron.
Seven Galleon meant nothing to him.
He could certainly give Ron seven Galleon directly, but that wouldn't be the best approach.
If Ron buys the new wand this way, he'll become useless to Silan.
Silan doesn't like useless people.
A person may lack ability, but they cannot lack the ambition to make progress.
He can give Ron a chance.
Whether Ron can earn that money depends on himself.
Ron picked up the Galleon on the table with two fingers, flicked it into the air with his right thumb, and caught it with his hand.
"I've accepted the deposit."
It means he agreed.
Ron couldn't help but recall the first day of school.
At that time, he thought he and Harry were going to be fired, and he even joked that he would become Charlie Weasley's assistant who collected dragon dung.
Now...
"Okay then, since my cousin is considered a brother too."
Hermione took out her Augurey pen and wrote down the process of making dragon dung compost on Parchment.
"You even know this? You can even recite it from memory?"
Ron was quite surprised as he watched the production steps flow from the quill pen.
Silan also gave her an approving look.
This made Hermione's lips curl into a smile.
Well done, Ron.
Hermione mentally gave Ron a thumbs up.
If it weren't for you, how would I have had the chance to perform in front of Silan?
"You can ask Neville for the necessary tools, and the money will be settled every thirty days," Silan said.
Ron shook his head, somewhat embarrassed, and said, "Let's wait three months before paying. I'm afraid I won't be able to resist spending it; it's too tempting."
Silan nodded, without refusing.
George and Fred patted Ron on the shoulder encouragingly.
"Keep it up, Ron."
"Don't worry, Charlie Weasley once gave me a lump of dried dragon dung, and I've even eaten dragon dung-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. I dare say, nobody knows more about collecting dragon dung than me."
So you're already in work mode? Not bad.
Silan was very satisfied.
After they parted ways, Silan did not return to her dormitory. Instead, she fell into deep thought in the study of the Room of Requirement.
The candle flame flickered slightly, casting his shadow on the wall, making it appear larger and longer.
From a distance, it looks like a giant snake.
After the candle was blown out, darkness instantly filled the room.
Silan closed his eyes, rested his head on the back of the chair, and frowned in deep thought.
Lockhart got the notebook.
"The fact that she suddenly changed her clothes to a style that is significantly different from before could be a signal."
Lockhart's transformation alerted Silan.
A pivotal event has occurred, which means it will trigger a series of chain reactions.
He didn't care about the lives or deaths of most people.
But Hermione could also be attacked.
Even if there's only a one in ten thousand chance, Silan will absolutely not allow that to happen.
"Perhaps we could try making an alchemical tool for Hermione to defend against the Basilisk's attacks..."
But time was of the essence, and Silan didn't have time to start the research from scratch.
"Let's just call in more players."
Having made up his mind, Silan lit a candle and wrote a letter to Nicolas Flamel.
He wrote down his detailed production plan and asked him to take a look.
Of course, he didn't forget to hint to Nicolas Flamel to just make it out.
After writing the letter, Silan immediately pulled Melba out of the Owlery.
Since returning to Hogwarts, this guy has resumed his life of having women on both sides.
"What are you doing in the middle of the night...?"
Melba hung his head, looking dejected.
"Stop pretending. You're an owl, aren't you most active at night?" Silan tapped him on the head in annoyance and shoved the letter into his hand.
"Send this letter to Professor Nicolas Flamel in Paris, and come back after he writes a reply. You haven't forgotten the address, have you?"
Melba gaped, feeling as if all the feathers on his body had fallen to the ground.
"Not again?!"