Chapter 48: When Contracts and Money Are Involved 

Edward leaned back in his seat.

“Twenty Galleons a month.”

Mattheus raised an eyebrow.

“I’m renting part of a wall and a narrow strip of garden, not the entire cottage.”

“The door is attached to our home,” Edward said. “There’ll be strangers coming and going at all hours. Noise. Damage to the garden. Who knows what sort of people your pub will attract?”

“A pub in Hogsmeade will attract people from Hogsmeade,” Mattheus said dryly.

“And Hogwarts students,” Edward countered. “Hundreds of them.”

“Two days a week, during the school year.”

Edward frowned, tapping two fingers impatiently against his knee. 

“Twenty Galleons.” 

Mattheus leaned back and crossed his legs. 

“No.”

Edward seemed momentarily at a loss at the firm rejection.  

Mattheus had not walked into this negotiation completely blind.

While shopping, he spent nearly twenty minutes speaking with Owen Cattermole, one of the employees at Dervish and Banges. Mattheus had mentioned that he was considering moving to Hogsmeade, and the conversation had naturally shifted towards rent, property prices, and the cost of living in the village.

Owen rented a one-bedroom flat for ten Galleons a month. According to him, renting a room cost between three and six Galleons a month, a small flat between seven and eleven, a good-sized flat between eleven and seventeen, and a cottage between fourteen and twenty-two. 

For what Edward was asking he could rent a cottage somewhere in the village. 

Shamelessly overcharging him like that… Yeah, he did not like this guy. 

“I know what property costs in Hogsmeade,” Mattheus said. “For twenty Galleons, I could rent a cottage of my own and attach the door there.”

Edward’s mouth tightened.

“You already attached it here.”

“I can move it anytime I want.”

That was a lie—until he bought the upgrade Mattheus would not be able to move the location of the door within a world. 

“You said it was anchored to our wall,” Edward argued.

“Yes, but I never said it was permanent.”

Mattheus held his gaze.

Edward looked away first.

“How much are you offering?”

“Six Galleons a month.”

“That’s too little.”

“Six Galleons for a wall and a strip of garden barely wide enough for three people to walk side by side it’s more than fair.”

“There’ll still be inconveniences,” Edward insisted. “People coming and going, noise at all hours—and what happens when some drunk stumbles out of your pub and makes a mess of the garden?” 

Mattheus tapped one finger against his leg.

The door would not inconvenience them much as it stood on the side of the cottage, well away from the main entrance. Customers would not need to cross the front garden, and Crossroads itself could not be heard through the door once it was closed.

Still, Edward did make a point, and Mattheus wanted the arrangement settled quickly, so he was willing to raise his offer a bit. 

“I’ll pay twenty Galleons upfront as compensation for the door appearing on your property without permission and any inconvenience it has caused,” he said. “After that, nine Galleons a month.”

Edward’s eyes brightened at the mention of the immediate payment.

“Twenty now?”

“Once the contract is signed.”

Edward considered the offer, and Mattheus could practically see him doing the maths. 

“Twelve a month,” Edward said.

“Nine.”

“Eleven.”

“Nine,” Mattheus repeated. “Or I move the door, and you receive nothing.”

That ended the negotiation.

“Fine.” Edward held out his hand. “Twenty upfront and nine every month.”

Mattheus shook it.

“I’ll have a rental agreement drawn up and return in a few days once it’s ready.”

“A contract isn’t necessary.”

“It is for me.”

Edward looked displeased but did not argue.

Mattheus stood up.

“I’d like to say goodbye to Theresa before I leave.”

“She’s probably busy.”

“It will only take a moment.”

Mattheus’s tone remained polite but firm, and Edward did not raise further objections.

Theresa was at the stove, tending to a pot while vegetables chopped themselves on the counter. 

“Finished already?” she asked.

“We reached an agreement,” Mattheus said. “I’ll return in a few days with the contract.”

“How wonderful. It will be nice to have something new in the village.”

“You’ll be welcome at Crossroads once we open. Your first meal will be on the house.”

Theresa smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Mattheus said his goodbyes and walked towards the door.

“One more thing,” Mattheus said after crossing the threshold, turning towards Edward. “Since the cottage belongs to Theresa, she’ll need to sign the contract.”

Edward’s expression tightened. “I handle these things for her.”

“Then bring whatever document authorises you to act on her behalf.”

“You don’t trust me?”

Mattheus smiled pleasantly. “When contracts and money are involved? No, I don’t trust anyone.” 

“Is there anything else, Mr Garcia?”  Edward asked with a strained smile. 

“Oh, and the rent will be paid directly to Theresa, of course.” 

Edward’s fingers twitched against the door handle. 

“Naturally,” he said.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Peakes.” 

And with that, Mattheus turned around and left.

Outside, the afternoon sun was beginning to sink. He walked around the building and stopped before Crossroads’ door.

One less problem.

He still had many things to do before he could open Crossroads in Hogsmeade, but they would have to wait. For now, he needed to change clothes and head to the gym.

Mattheus unlocked the door and stepped inside Crossroads. 

Ted had promised him an extra hour of hell, and the old bastard was a man of his word. If Mattheus wanted to finish training, shower, and open Crossroads at the usual hour, he needed to leave now.

Still, hell ahead aside, his day in Hogsmeade had been fun—and, as the cherry on top, productive.

He had explored the village, seen Hogwarts, developed the beginnings of a business plan, and reached an agreement with the Peakes. 

Not bad for his first day in this world. 

Mattheus checked the time—it was 6:41 pm in this world’s time, and a little before sunrise in Gotham. 

Getting used to the time difference will take a bit of time.

Mattheus unbuttoned his waistcoat as he climbed the stairs, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt. He left them draped over the back of a chair, changed into his training clothes, and returned downstairs with his gym bag slung over one shoulder.

Before leaving, he stopped beside the door leading to Hogsmeade.

He opened the app and removed that door, then took the table and chairs and returned them to their original place. Until he found a way to introduce the multiverse to his customers, Crossroads would operate in only one world at a time.

Mattheus stepped through the door leading to Gotham and took a deep breath. 

He was already missing the clean Scottish air. Gotham just didn’t hit the lungs quite the same way. 

The sky outside was beginning to lighten, and the street was mostly empty, with only a few early birds going to work or returning home from their night shifts. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, and he chuckled. 

Home, sweet home.

***

Ted delivered on his promise.

By the end of the third hour, Mattheus lay flat on his back in the middle of the gym, staring at the ceiling while sweat soaked through every piece of clothing he wore.

“Get up,” Ted ordered.

Mattheus raised one trembling hand and gave him the middle finger.

“You’ve still got enough energy for that, you’ve got enough energy for another set.”

The finger dropped right away, and Ted snorted. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Mattheus turned his head towards the clock on the wall.

He groaned. “I need to open the pub.”

“Then get off my floor.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

Old bastard.

Mattheus eventually managed to drag himself upright, take his bag, and stagger back towards Crossroads. A couple of potions, a long shower, and a large breakfast did wonders for his will to live. 

At ten, Crossroads opened as usual. 

A few hours later, in that quiet time period after breakfast but before lunch, Mattheus took out the journal he had bought from Scrivenshaft’s and opened it to the first page.

He wrote:

Hogsmeade

Beneath the heading, he began listing everything that needed to be done before Crossroads could open there.

-Rental contract.

-Check business and food-service laws.

-Decide opening hours.

-Create prices in Galleons, Sickles and Knuts.

-Prepare student menu.

-Find out whether selling potions requires a licence.

-Advertise before opening.

-The garden. 

The list already looked long, and he was certain he had forgotten several things.

Mattheus tapped the pen against the page.

Opening Crossroads two days a week in Hogsmeade was manageable thanks to the sleep substitution potions, but opening it while continuing to operate fourteen hours a day in Gotham, training almost every morning, and doing all the cooking, serving, and cleaning himself was not.

He added one more thing:

-Hire an employee.

Mattheus stared at it.

After Angie, the thought did not fill him with enthusiasm, but running the pub on his own filled him with even less. 

“Fuck.”

He was so happy in Hogsmeade just a few hours ago… 

Nice things never last.

Omake: The Tournament Arc

A tremendous arena surrounded Mattheus, with thousands of spectators roaring from the stands.

Across from him stood a muscular warrior wreathed in flames, with a giant sword held over one shoulder, looking very cool and dangerous.

“The tournament begins!” the announcer shouted. “Only one shall survive!”

Mattheus raised a hand.

“Question.”

The crowd quietened, and several people leaned forward. What could be so important as to interrupt this epic fight? 

“What does the winner receive?”

“Glory!”

“Anything else?”

“Recognition as the strongest warrior alive!”

“Money?”

“No.”

“Land?”

“No.”

“A magical artefact?”

“No.”

Mattheus walked towards the exit.

The announcer panicked. “Where are you going?”

“To work.”

“You would abandon the tournament?!”

“My pub already makes thousands of dollars a day.” He shrugged. “I’m not risking death for exposure.”

The warrior’s flames disappeared.

“How much is a thousand dollars?” He asked, his eyes gleaming with interest. 

“In this world’s currency? About 60 silver pieces.” 

“So you make over a hundred silver pieces a day? That could feed my family for a month and a half!” The warrior dropped his weapon and walked towards Mattheus.  “Are you hiring?”

Mattheus looked him over.

“Can you cook?”

“No.”

“Pour drinks?”

“No.”

“Are you willing to learn?”

“Yes.”

“You’re hired.”

The announcer watched both competitors leave.

Thus ended the shortest tournament arc in history. 

(PS: Omakes are not canon)