"Williams?" The Muggles looked at one another, clearly having never heard that surname among England's old financial families.
"Go back and ask around. Preferably in the department that handles mysterious incidents." Roger leaned back slightly, not expecting them to understand that the name represented wizards rather than bankers. "Are you all still waiting for me to treat you to coffee?"
Under Roger's stern rebuke, the large group of people who had charged in so aggressively could only leave in frustration. Outside, the employees in the financial building watched through the tightly shut wooden door, desperately guessing what had happened inside the office.
"Mr. Roger, I'm terribly sorry." Andrew's face was pale, and he bowed his head in shame. "I will handle this properly. The money will definitely be transferred discreetly into your name."
"Forget it. Since we've already been exposed, there's no need to keep hiding." Roger shook his head and went straight to the point. "How much did we make this time?"
"After deducting the high interest, there's still ten point five billion left." Andrew reported hastily, but the smug excitement in his tone was impossible to hide.
"So much?" Thompson was instantly filled with regret. If he had known this would happen, he would have emptied the Ministry of Magic's coffers and personally jumped into the game.
"Cousin, your profit is also one billion," Andrew reminded him.
"Ah… haha, I almost forgot." Thompson laughed stiffly, then hurried to hide the greed and shock on his face.
"Once everything is settled properly, you'll receive your share of the profits as agreed." Roger looked at Andrew, his tone calm.
"No problem." Andrew answered quickly, because not all wizards solved problems in a Muggle way as Roger had done. For example, when his cousin Thompson had been pressured by Muggles, the man's first reaction had been to raise his wand.
"Thompson, handle the Galleon issue properly at the Ministry. Don't give anyone leverage against you." Roger turned to him next. "Also, regarding the exchange from Muggle money into Galleons…"
"The amount is somewhat large, but I'll think of a way." Thompson's voice carried both excitement and pressure.
"Yes, you'll need to work harder." Roger looked at him seriously. "If possible, rise to the position of Financial Secretary as soon as you can."
"Director?" Thompson froze.
"Do you want to remain a low-level clerk your whole life?" Roger asked bluntly. "With your current position and authority, can you even exchange all that Muggle money?"
"I… I understand." Thompson nodded slowly, but then worry returned to his face. "Roger, the wizarding world simply can't absorb such a massive amount of funds."
"Think longer term. This world isn't only Britain, and Gringotts isn't only in Diagon Alley." Roger tapped the desk with his finger. "Find the right opportunity and exchange everything at once, so the goblins don't notice anything too early."
"I understand. If we can't finish exchanging it all…" Thompson rubbed his nose awkwardly. His share of the profit was huge, but compared with Roger's portion, it was only a drop in the ocean.
"Then Andrew can use the remaining money to start an investment company." Roger had clearly already thought of a backup plan. "I'll be going to Hogwarts next month. If anything important happens, you can ask Jessica."
He waved his wand and cast Scourgify on Andrew, cleaning away the dust and sweat from the man's suit. "The Soviet Union is collapsing, and the Iron Curtain is disappearing."
"I thought the other communist markets might collapse too," Andrew said quickly, his financial instincts already running ahead.
"Are you an idiot?" Roger snapped at him without politeness. "Is there a bigger market than the one we just swallowed?"
Andrew immediately closed his mouth. Roger continued, "If a python swallows an elephant and doesn't die, that's already a miracle. All it needs to do afterward is hide somewhere deep and digest slowly. If anyone asks you to invest before I give instructions, reject them all."
"I understand. I will handle everything properly and wait for your orders." Andrew wiped sweat from his forehead. What use would he be if he could not even handle the follow-up operations?
He followed closely behind Roger as they left the office, while the others stared in shock at the little boy walking in the middle. Andrew's entire team was present, and a group of financial elites from prestigious universities escorted Roger downstairs as though he were the true master of the building.
In the ruthless City of London, morality and age meant very little. Money was the only truth.
The doorman saw a crowd of people surrounding the child as they walked out, and he could not help rubbing his eyes. Had he just missed a golden opportunity?
"This bottle of 1926 Macallan is for you." Roger handed the whisky to Andrew. "Take it and celebrate properly with your team."
Andrew accepted the bottle with both hands, looking even more respectful than before. Roger left the City of London with Thompson, and the building behind him quickly returned to its usual polished calm, as though nothing had happened.
A wizard's daily life was often as ordinary as anyone else's, and Roger's became especially boring after that. He ate and slept, then slept and ate, and he increasingly felt like a lazy dragon curled around a hoard.
Jessica measured her son's height during that time and was pleased to see that he had grown a few more centimetres. At least the Blue Moon Essence and the terrifying amount of food were not being wasted.
On September first, Roger was still fast asleep when Bubble's anxious shout rang through the bedroom. "Master, it's time to get up. If we don't hurry, we'll miss the train to Hogwarts!"
"Ah… what time is it?" Roger opened his eyes groggily and looked at his watch. There were still four hours before the eleven o'clock departure.
"Hurry up and pack your things. I've already had Bubble prepare breakfast, and you can eat on the train." Jessica walked in and urged him along. "King's Cross Station, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Are you ready to depart?"
"Ready?" Roger jumped out of bed and gave Jessica a high five, instantly awake.
With the Undetectable Extension bag he had received from Erwin, though Erwin would certainly deny all responsibility, Roger's luggage was especially simple. A vintage backpack held his textbooks and tools, an old-fashioned leather carrier housed his newly purchased snowy owl, Sylph, and one box contained his school uniforms.
Jessica had also thoughtfully prepared several formal outfits for her son. In her view, even a Hogwarts student should know how to dress properly when the occasion required it.
"Let's go," Roger said.
"Let's go." Jessica took his hand, and together they got into the car and headed toward the station.
King's Cross Station was a classic building from the last century. Roger carried his luggage and silently thought that, much like the Maybach, it was so classic that it seemed built entirely from the weight of history.
"Do you remember our platform?" Jessica reminded her son again, afraid that he might forget at the crucial moment.
"Nine and Three-Quarters. I remember." Roger pointed toward the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten, where young wizards occasionally pushed their luggage straight through the barrier and vanished.
"Mum, I think the Ministry staff assigned here must have a very difficult job." Roger's voice was filled with sympathy. "There must be plenty of ordinary people who see this and then need their memories modified."
"Their wages are relatively high, and they earn every bit of it." Jessica held her son's hand and walked through the barrier with him.
A steam train with a deep red locomotive waited beside the platform, and a gold-lettered plaque on it read Hogwarts Express, 5972. Steam drifted through the air, children shouted excitedly, and owls hooted from cages stacked on trolleys.
"Why…" Roger stared at the train and sighed.
"What's wrong? Why are you sighing all of a sudden?" Jessica looked at him in confusion, while the first-years nearby were clearly thrilled by the sight of the express.
"Mum, don't you think it's too old?" Roger studied the train seriously. "I think donating it to an outside museum would be better than keeping it here. It's amazing that a train nearly two hundred years old can still move."
Jessica smiled gently after hearing that. "The appearance of this train may be old-fashioned, but it carries every child's first beautiful imagination of the magical world."
"Its historical value far exceeds the machine itself. It connects generations of Hogwarts students, and that is why we cherish and protect it." Jessica patiently explained as she led him toward the train. "Besides, this train is enchanted. It is far beyond anything ordinary technology can create."
Roger turned back and hugged Jessica tightly. He held on for a long time before finally letting go, because since their return from Azkaban, mother and son had never been separated for an extended period. The thought of not seeing each other for several months made both of their expressions turn heavy.
"All right, the other young wizards are watching. Aren't you embarrassed?" Jessica crouched in front of him and kissed his cheek. "Hurry and get on. Remember to take lots of pictures at school and have Sylph bring them back."
"I know, Mum. I'll miss you." Roger nodded reluctantly.
"I'll miss you too." Jessica fought back tears and smiled as she sent her son onto the train. "All right, son. Now get ready for life at Hogwarts."
She watched Roger enter the carriage and put his things away. Through the window, the two of them waved goodbye to each other, and only then did Jessica turn around and walk away quickly, unconsciously wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.
"Watch out, child!" Jessica exclaimed.
"Excuse me, ma'am…" Harry paused awkwardly, adjusting his glasses.
.....
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