November 23, 1976

Earlier this week I got a letter from Mr. B. Crouch, and this morning he took me up to Dumbledore's office and we had a meeting. A sales meeting, for lack of a better word. I was nervous, but I wasn't shy about what I felt my work was worth.

I need to write Kauton and tell her to quit paying me. The amount of galleons I just cut this deal for could set Davey and I up comfortably for 10 years without me working a day.

I sold him the patent and rights to the implantable tracking device and map system that I devised on Kauton's commission. All the Aurors are going to get them now.

I sold him the portkey research, unfinished, for the portkey scanner, which I'm sure he'll pass on to DEC to finish.

I sold him the D200 design and the rights to all but 5% of the Darkefell wood. I have enough to craft personal brooms and prototypes. In the contract is the clause that if they ever need or want to upgrade, they will come to me with their broom design needs first and I will have 1 year to produce a suitable advanced model (300 +). With that, The Darkefell 200 broom becomes a declassified item, and I can stop smiling and changing the subject when people ask me when I'm going to design the D200. Well guys, I designed it, 2 summers ago in fact.

With this it occured to me that I never have to have a manufacturing branch of my company. Any artificer worth their salt can build. Not everyone can invent. Not everyone can design. I can design and build prototypes. And of course presents for friends.

But first I'm going to play Quidditch. Selling those items also decreases, I think, the bad guy's interest level in me. Everything I had the Ministry now has. I've got nothing new for them. And you can't duplicate a D200 without Darkefell wood anyway. They'll just have to find their own artificer. Maybe I really can decrease my safehousing level soon. I don't want to live like that forever.