The short Christmas holidays proved extremely busy and productive for young Grosvenor.
The day after Christmas dinner at the royal palace, Richie exchanged all the accumulated ingots of precious metals for gold, which he then took to Gringotts, filling his vault with ringing Galleons. By wizarding standards, the sum was staggering, and even ordinary peoples could only envy such wealth—nine million and forty-five thousand Galleons. That was after giving ten per cent of the metals' value to the intermediary banker, while another one per cent went to the goblins.
Richard found it astonishing that the wizarding economy had not collapsed long ago. It was easy enough to understand where the money for purchasing gold came from—the goblins had amassed enormous quantities of coinage over the centuries of the bank's existence. More than that, the little creatures minted the coins themselves. What puzzled him was something else entirely: a first-year student, casting a commonly known charm once every day or two before bed, had managed to earn an immense fortune. Could other wizards not do exactly the same thing?
Of course they could. Very much so. Some even used similar methods already, as Madam Marchbanks had hinted. But…
There was an explanation for it. Richie was wealthy and titled, so no one questioned him possessing enormous quantities of gold. If an ordinary wizard had shown up before the goblins with the same amount, however, he would either have been skinned alive financially or handed straight over to the Aurors. The latter happened more often than not, which was why clever wizards usually cashed out only modest sums so as not to stand out or attract the attention of magical law enforcement.
The goblins loved gold, yet at the same time they hated wizards—a fact they did not even bother concealing. But Richard Grosvenor, whether one hated him or not, was still the son of a Duke. Unlike certain wizards, the goblins were not fools. They understood perfectly well in whose country they lived. For that reason, antagonising the royal family was the last thing they wanted. On the contrary, they did everything in their power to establish good relations with an important figure.
And besides, greed burned fiercely and indestructibly within the hearts of those little creatures, while nothing in the world attracted them more than gold. It lured them just as El Dorado had once lured adventurers from every corner of the globe. Because of that, Richard enjoyed the finest possible conditions of service at Gringotts, and he accepted it as entirely natural.
In short, Richie had successfully solved his problems with chips—that is to say, wizarding money—for the foreseeable future, and he hadn't needed the Philosopher's Stone for it in the slightest.
The following day was spent visiting Mister Merdit Corner, an elderly grey-haired wizard who served as Britain's representative to the International Confederation of Wizards.
Over tea, the young Earl discussed a variety of matters with the older wizard. Yet the central topic of their conversation was the arrangement for bribing other ICW representatives.
Much to Richard's regret, Mister Weasley had only managed to bribe the most corrupt and cheapest of the representatives. He lacked the connections, pressure, and decisiveness needed to approach the others. Mister Corner, on the other hand, was not burdened by excessive scruples, possessed extensive connections, and had a tremendous love of money.
By the end of the tea, they reached an agreement: Merdit Corner would bribe another thirty-five, perhaps even forty, members of the ICW in order to guarantee a majority of votes. In return for his intermediary work and efforts, he would receive ten per cent of the total sum spent on bribes. At the same time, however, a strict limit had been imposed, so the wizard would not become overly greedy.
Quite literally the very next day, the Grosvenor vault at Gringotts began to shrink at an alarming rate. Richie had no doubt whatsoever that Corner would use the entire limit of three million Galleons. At the same time, there was equally little doubt that the crafty wizard would purchase the necessary number of votes.
Quite possibly, the upcoming emergency assembly of the International Confederation of Wizards was destined to become the most corrupt gathering in the organisation's history. Richard doubted any wizard before him had ever considered spending twenty million pounds simply to pass a desired law. After all, a wizard possessing such a fortune could live in absolute comfort for his entire long life, with enough left over for children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren besides.
On top of that, Richard also had to devote time to business matters and deal with the accumulated paperwork.
As a result, the short holidays vanished in the blink of an eye.
Young Grosvenor only just managed to board the Hogwarts Express moments before departure. As was so often the case, those living closest tended to arrive latest. Richie might have lived far from King's Cross Station, but he had expected to get there quickly with the help of a Portkey. First, the presence of servants prevented him from Apparating immediately, which caused him to arrive at the London house later than planned. Then, rather unexpectedly, the car broke down. Richie had hoped it could be repaired on the spot, but such tricks did not work with a Bentley—it would have to be hauled off to a garage on a tow truck. They were forced to call a taxi, yet it took an eternity to arrive. In the end, Richard and his bodyguard simply set off for the station on foot.
The train pulled away mere seconds after Richie climbed aboard. Every compartment was already filled with students, forcing the boy to search for familiar faces.
End of Chapter)
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