Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 45 Another Business Deal

"Professor, do you have any other brewing recipes?" Rosmerta showed a happy expression.

"I told you, I don't know how to make wine..."

Melvin introduced her to some concepts of pub management, such as adding value to the third space and stimulating impulse consumption.

"A tavern isn't a restaurant, and the taste of the wine is just the foundation. The Three Broomsticks also needs to satisfy the entertainment needs of wizards, just like playing Celestina Warbeck's new songs on Halloween. With just a slight change in the way we operate, business will surely be even more prosperous. We can provide assistance, and the profit ratio is negotiable."

Rosmerta was confused.

Professor Lewynter was talking about some Muggle jargon again. I could understand the words separately, but I couldn't recognize them when they were put together.

Are Hogwarts courses that difficult now? Fortunately, she graduated decades ago, otherwise she might not have received the exam certificate, although running a pub didn't require any certificates.

The tavern owner, who hadn't been a good student in her youth, didn't understand. She only knew that Professor Lewinter seemed a little short of money. After a moment's thought, she said, "Professor, if you need Galleons to make ends meet, I'm willing to buy your brewing recipe. Your improved mead is selling very well, and the recipe is worth at least a few hundred Galleons. You deserve it."

Melvin didn't know whether to laugh or cry: "That's not what I meant."

Rosmerta thought the amount might not be enough. "If you have other brewing recipes, I'm willing to buy more, or I'd like to hire you as a brewing consultant for the tavern. The salary might not be as high as Hogwarts, but the advantage is that you don't have to work 24/7. You can just help me check the cellar occasionally and guide the brewing process."

"It's really not necessary..."

Melvin finally understood why the Three Broomsticks attracted so many customers. Ms. Rosmerta was very good at dealing with people and was genuinely willing to help customers who encountered difficulties. She was clearly trying to help herself, but she even used euphemisms to do so.

In a sense, this is also a long-term and sincere community management.

Melvin thought for a moment and decided to change the conversation. "Ms. Rosmerta, could you please tell me about the tavern's specific business situation? How many drinks do you sell every day? What's your monthly turnover?"

"It's not inconvenient..."

Rosmerta barely hesitated before informing the professor of the situation in the tavern.

Hogsmeade was a purely wizarding village. The Three Broomsticks primarily served the surrounding villagers, offering low prices and pursuing a strategy of small profits but quick turnover. Occasionally, passing merchants preferred to visit the village's other inn, the Hog's Head, where a diverse mix of wizards and witches mingled, some even non-wizards. The drinks there were stronger, the location more secluded, and the information more accessible.

Normally, I can sell a maximum of 200 Galleons of wine a day. After deducting the costs, I only make 20 to 30 Galleons, which means I can earn a few hundred Galleons a month.

Part of these incomes is used to curry favor with people. I don't mean bribery, but just to send some wine to the staff of relevant departments of the Ministry of Magic or Aurors, and also to Cornelius Fudge. Occasionally, when there is an operation to check dark magic items or hunt dark wizards, it can be used to ask for convenience so that the oak barrels in the wine cellar that are used for brewing wine don't have to be opened and searched.

I would also send some wine to the professors at Hogwarts, but this was more troublesome. No matter if I delivered it personally to Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape, they would basically refuse. If I sent it by owl, I would have to pay for the wine later, and I could only buy them a drink when they came to the store for a drink.

Headmaster Dumbledore usually doesn't show up at the Three Broomsticks, but he's easy to talk to and will accept any sweet wine with a smile.

If you occasionally encounter a drunkard, mentioning the names of Dumbledore and Hogwarts can avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble.

These are mutually beneficial.

That's how business works.

For Ms. Rosmerta, who lives alone, it is enough to have saved a certain amount of money over the past few decades, not more or less.

Rosmerta spoke without complaint: "...We occasionally host Hogwarts students on weekends. You know, students in their third year and above get to go out once a month, and they like to come here for a butterbeer." "Let's say two hundred Galleons a day. Try my suggestion; business will definitely improve. The extra amount will just be profit, and we can discuss profit sharing later. What do you think?"

"..."

In fact, Rosmerta would rather hire the professor as a winemaking consultant, or buy a few more winemaking recipes. After hesitating for half a minute, he nodded and agreed.

"As you say, Professor Levent."

……

November 11th, the second Saturday.

It's already winter.

The waning moon set on Halloween night, and the sky was cloudy for several days in a row. Thick clouds covered the sky over the Scottish Highlands, and there had been no light for a week. The young wizards could not see the stars in their astronomy class, so they did not have to report their observations.

The howling north wind grew more and more violent, leaving only two or three leaves on the branches of the willow. The temperature at Hogwarts also suddenly turned into winter. The Black Lake had frozen over. Every morning when I woke up, I could see white frost on the grounds and the outer walls of the castle.

Teachers and students walking outside in the open air exhaled white air from their mouths and noses. In order to keep warm, the students made hand warmers. They put the blue bellflower flame modified by the fire spell into jam jars and held them in their palms. It was warm enough but not burnt.

The eagerness of the young wizards was not affected at all.

Today is the first game of the new Quidditch season.

The Slytherin team had won the championship for five consecutive years. Originally, the Gryffindor team had no hope for this season. Their seeker graduated last year, and the new seekers still needed training and running-in. However, Harry's talent once again gave them hope, and the Nimbus 2000 funded by Professor McGonagall brought even greater hope.

If they can beat the Slytherin team in this match, their house points will move up to second place, and the house cup will be just around the corner.

"I was so nervous I almost vomited..."

Harry felt terrible. They were walking on the path to the Quidditch pitch, the cold wind choking his throat. His friends had prepared a banner for him, but he couldn't be happy.

"It doesn't matter. You didn't eat anything for breakfast anyway."

No one paid any attention to Ron's words of comfort. Hermione looked at the pale Harry and whispered, "Just wait until you get on your broom. Don't think about the game, think about something else."

"Think of something else..."

Harry glanced towards the Slytherin stands. "Snape's leg was injured. He must have tried to break into the room on the fourth floor corridor. What do you think he was looking for? And what was the big dog guarding?"

"You should think about the game."

"If you feel like vomiting while you're on your broom, fly towards the Slytherin stand and vomit on Malfoy or Snape."

"what……"

(End of this chapter)