This time, Will had stumbled into a lucky break. He had intended to use the Ministry of Magic to push things along, but Scrimgeour had actually struck a deal with the Order of the Phoenix.
That might mean Voldemort would hold out for less time, but it also meant he would see the Origin Spells.
And then... the entire Wizarding World could end up in an arms race.
Once that race began, Will would have every advantage. Like America during World War II, he could make a fortune from the war.
That fortune might not come in any obvious form, but it would be far more useful than Galleons!
It was one of his most important trump cards, and he would only play it at the very end.
Fifteen minutes later, the three finished eating.
Will drained his grape juice and gave his wand a gentle wave. As though they had come to life, the dishes on the table lined up and flew back to the kitchen.
"Let's go," Lupin said, rising. "It's about time."
Sirius burped, pulled a large, crumpled hood from his pocket, and slipped it over his head to hide his face. He funded the Werewolf Mutual Aid Association, but had always remained anonymous. After spending so long in Azkaban, he had little desire to draw attention to himself.
"How are you planning to hide your face, Will?" Lupin asked. He had put on a hood too—at least he needed to conceal himself on the way to the association.
"Want me to get you another cloak?" Sirius asked.
Will spread his hands. "I'm a wizard."
He tapped his wand, and his simple clothes changed. In the blink of an eye, they had become a voluminous gray cloak with a hood.
The large hood cast his entire