"Galleons are certainly an option, but Roger, you should think it through carefully." Percy leaned closer and lowered his voice beside Roger's ear. "This compensation already places a significant burden on the Ministry of Magic."
Roger turned to Jessica. His mother did not answer for him, only gave him an encouraging nod and left the choice in his hands. Roger smiled back, then turned to Percy and said, "Thank you, Percy. We've decided to pay the difference in Galleons."
"How about sixty thousand Galleons?" Roger offered the price lightly, as if he were discussing nothing more important than the cost of a new school trunk. Percy had yet to react, but Thompson, who had been standing beside him, nearly jumped out of his polished shoes.
"Impossible! If the market is good, that villa could sell for two hundred thousand Galleons." Thompson's voice rose at once, and the careful politeness he had worn earlier cracked under panic. "Even after deducting the compensation allowance, you would have to pay at least another hundred thousand!"
"All right, then I'll take my hundred thousand Galleons instead." Roger calmly pushed the unsigned supplementary agreement across the table. Since it had not been signed, it held no legal force whatsoever. "Right now. Immediately. Please have the full amount transferred to me."
"Mr. Weasley!" Thompson turned to Percy, beads of sweat already forming across his forehead. His earlier confidence vanished so quickly it was almost impressive.
"The property valuation is handled by your finance department." Percy shrugged and walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee. His expression said very clearly that he had no intention of rescuing Thompson from a hole the man had dug himself.
"Mr. Roger, sixty thousand really won't work. It's too low." Thompson quickly forced on a flattering smile, though his eyes darted anxiously between the agreement and the magical map.
If the installment compensation agreement collapsed here, Thompson could already imagine his director's face. The man might not even bother shouting. He would simply sign a transfer order and send Thompson to guard some frozen Ministry outpost in the Arctic.
"I understand your position, Mr. Thompson." Roger's tone was wonderfully sympathetic. "In that case, why not adjust the way the property's value is calculated?"
Thompson blinked. The words seemed to open a door in his mind, and Roger continued as though he were merely offering a helpful academic suggestion.
"For example, the location, decoration, depreciation, and long-term maintenance risks of this villa should all be assessed carefully. That sort of professional reassessment should not be difficult for a financial expert like you." Roger folded his hands together and smiled. "It is only a reassessment, after all."
Roger's suggestion made Thompson's eyes light up. As a Ministry finance officer, he knew the valuation system inside and out, and a small adjustment to a few parameters could bring any property neatly into the expected range.
"I… I believe this property does require a more thorough reassessment." Thompson straightened as though he had suddenly discovered a noble calling. He pulled out a blank piece of parchment and began writing in an elegant, flowing hand.
"I'm going to the washroom," Percy said with a smile, then walked away without looking back. In his heart, he silently congratulated Mr. Thompson on his promising future.
At the top of the parchment, Thompson wrote, Property Appraisal Report for Riverside Villa, No. TW13, Richmond Riverside. Then he studied the magical map, dipped his quill, and began the report with the grave solemnity of a man documenting an ancient curse.
The property was a three-story modern minimalist villa located on the outskirts of London. Although it possessed certain amenities and access to the wider transport network, its distance from the city centre meant that surrounding facilities were limited and daily travel was relatively inconvenient.
The property had a certain degree of appreciation potential. However, due to its proximity to a major waterway, the surrounding environment was damp, noise pollution was significant, and long-term maintenance costs were expected to remain high.
Thompson read aloud as he wrote, his tone fair, objective, reasonable, and thoroughly convincing. No one could deny that the villa was somewhat removed from central London, just as no one could deny that ships occasionally sounded their horns on the Thames.
"Mr. Thompson, considering the growing Muggle population in the London area, I believe the pollution of the Thames should also be treated as an important valuation factor." Roger offered the reminder with a serious expression.
"You're absolutely right. Those Muggles have no idea how to protect the environment!" Thompson nodded firmly and quickly added that section to the report.
He finished the first part with visible satisfaction, then raised his wand toward the map. With a careful motion, he split open the miniature model of the villa, exposing the internal structure for inspection.
The property was large and included a spacious garden, a private dock, and other amenities. However, the living-room and dining-room floors showed severe cracking, with underlying timber exposed in several areas, requiring complete replacement at an estimated cost of ten thousand Galleons.
Roger completely agreed with Thompson's professional judgment. Since the magical model of the house had just been sliced open for inspection, the cracked floors were obviously serious. In fact, they were extremely serious.
Thompson inflated the floor-repair cost to twenty thousand pounds, then converted it into Galleons at the official Ministry exchange rate. As a Ministry of Magic official, and especially as a finance officer, he naturally had to follow the official rate with the utmost seriousness.
The report continued in the same spirit. The ceilings of the master bedroom and guest bedroom on the second floor, as well as the study on the third floor, were all described as suffering from severe leakage and requiring complete renovation. The exterior walls and ceilings were said to be covered in fast-growing vines such as ivy and staghorn ferns, making cleanup both difficult and expensive.
The garden was overgrown and would need to be completely cleared and turned over. Considering the negative effects of certain magical plants and the possibility of stray magical creatures nesting there, additional medical costs from potential accidents also had to be factored into the work. The estimated total cost for the garden alone was five thousand Galleons.
The magical installations inside the house were described as aging and poorly maintained. The carpets were badly damaged, many protective charms had weakened, and most of the household spells would need to be recast before the property could safely house a young wizard and his mother.
Without realizing it, Thompson had already written five pages. The extra deductions and projected costs had reached forty-five thousand Galleons, exceeding even Roger's expectations.
"Mr. Thompson, for the sake of our friendship, why don't we use the remaining five thousand Galleons as a purchasing budget for Muggle equipment and electrical upgrades?" Roger brought him a cup of coffee and smiled politely.
"Friendship?" Thompson looked puzzled, and his hand tightened around the quill.
"Yes." Roger's smile did not change. "A friendship worth five thousand Galleons."
Jessica lay in her hospital bed and watched the exchange with a complicated look in her eyes. She knew very well that the friendship Roger was offering was not the sort of thing a child his age should understand. At the very least, he should not have understood it so clearly.
Still, alongside the ache in her chest, she felt a quiet pride. The Travis family had a mature heir now, one who could think, bargain, and survive. Perhaps one day, because of him, their family would rise again.
Maybe this was what Azkaban had forced him to learn, Jessica thought, and guilt immediately followed. These were things she, as his mother, should have handled for him.
"Ah! That's too much… no, I mean, friendship… I…" Thompson stammered, unable to decide whether to refuse, accept, or pretend he had misunderstood.
"I understand what you're trying to say, Mr. Thompson." Roger pushed the coffee toward him with gentle encouragement. "For the sake of our friendship."
Thompson could hardly believe that he had earned five thousand Galleons so easily. The Treasury Office was only a small department within the Ministry, far less powerful than departments like Magical Law Enforcement, and its employees were paid accordingly.
He had worked in the Treasury for years and earned only fifty Galleons a month. A friendship gift of five thousand Galleons was nearly nine years of hard work compressed into a single cup of coffee and a polite smile.
"I will list all special budgets clearly, including the purchase of Muggle equipment, books, and household materials." Thompson stood up quickly and spoke with a new level of respect. "Naturally, these are necessary to prevent young wizards from being misled by outdated pure-blood ideology. Does that seem acceptable?"
"Mr. Thompson, I have complete faith in your professionalism." Roger nodded as if he had just entrusted the man with a sacred duty.
"I won't disappoint you, Mr. Roger. Cars and small boats should be added as well." Thompson grew even more enthusiastic, fully unleashing his initiative as he conducted a comprehensive and meticulous inspection of the entire property.
They went through the villa room by room. Windows required reinforcement, the dock required repairs, the kitchen required modernisation, and the cellar required redesign. Every problem, real or imagined, found its proper place in Thompson's increasingly magnificent report.
"We should also redesign the underground room. For example, it could be converted into a proper potion-making room." Roger pointed toward the lower level of the magical model.
"Very reasonable. A dedicated potion-making space is essential for safety and education." Thompson nodded without hesitation, and the two exchanged a look of perfect understanding.
Half an hour later, Thompson finished compiling and binding the report, then waited for Percy to review it. In this report, dear Mr. Thompson had successfully and thoroughly devalued the three-story villa on the banks of the Thames.
A property with a market value of one and a half to one point eight million pounds had been reduced in black and white to only six hundred thousand pounds. In fact, if Roger had not intervened several times, Mr. Thompson might have lowered the valuation even further, perhaps to the point where the Ministry of Magic would somehow end up owing Roger money.
"Looks like you two had a very productive conversation." Percy returned, casually flipped through the report, and silently marvelled at Thompson's nerve. The power unleashed by a usually obedient person after awakening was truly astonishing.
"The report is very professionally written." Percy closed it after only a brief look and offered no further comment.
After all, the report would be reviewed by the Finance Department, and the house itself was Ministry property. What did any of that have to do with him? He was merely the Minister's innocent secretary, completely unfamiliar with such professional valuation systems.
"It was only after Mr. Roger's reminder that I recognized the property's many shortcomings in location, structure, decoration, safety, and long-term maintenance." Thompson's eyes gleamed with fresh understanding. "I firmly believe this report fully, thoroughly, and without reservation reflects the property's true value."
Mr. Thompson finally understood why colleagues at the same level seemed to live so comfortably while he had spent years working himself to exhaustion from dawn until dusk. Perhaps there were unwritten rules within the Finance Department, rules he simply had not known before.
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