"He has a PhD in finance from Cambridge." Thompson sounded rather proud as he made the introduction. "Oh, right, Roger, you may not know this. Cambridge's position in the Muggle world is, how should I put it, somewhat similar to Hogwarts' position in ours."
"Thank you, Mr. Thompson." Roger nodded, then walked over and warmly extended his hand to Andrew. "I've heard of Cambridge. Along with Oxford, it is considered one of the two finest universities in Britain."
"Of course. There's no doubt about that." Thompson agreed strongly, as if Roger had just stated one of the basic laws of magic. Coming from a wizard, especially one from a pure-blood family, that recognition made Andrew visibly proud of his Cambridge background.
The praise for his alma mater also helped Andrew relax. He shook Roger's hand, then straightened his posture and said, "Mr. Roger, during my university years, I led my school team to victory in the national stock investment competition through exceptional trading performance."
"I received an offer from a major investment bank immediately after graduation." Andrew's voice gradually filled with confidence. "After that, I designed several high-risk operational strategies, including securing extremely high leverage for clients and shorting stock markets in multiple countries through derivatives. I also—"
"Ahem." Thompson coughed lightly, reminding his cousin that they were among wizards. No matter how impressive his achievements in the Muggle world sounded, they were not worth much here unless they could be turned into something useful.
Andrew immediately understood and stopped talking about past glory. He looked at Roger and moved straight to the point. "Mr. Roger, are you planning to invest in the City of London? How much capital do you currently have available?"
"I have eight hundred thousand pounds on hand at the moment." Roger opened the Undetectable Extension case, revealing neat stacks of pound notes inside. "It is a little low, to be honest, so please don't mind."
"Mr. Roger, you're joking." Andrew's tone remained polite, but his eyelids twitched slightly.
The average yearly salary for an ordinary employee in the City of London was roughly twenty-five thousand pounds. Eight hundred thousand pounds meant thirty-two years of wages without eating, drinking, or spending a penny. Even at the private bank where Andrew worked, the minimum investment threshold was only five hundred thousand pounds, so the capital Roger had prepared was already a considerable personal fortune.
He quickly shifted into professional mode. "Eight hundred thousand is enough for initial investment operations. However, to enter the financial district properly, capital alone is not enough. You also need connections, experience, and the ability to identify the right opportunities."
"Mr. Andrew, there are some things I may not have explained clearly." Roger looked at him calmly. "I need your help obtaining sufficient leverage. In other words, I need you to use your connections to secure enough credit lines from major banks."
"Please rest assured, that is entirely possible." Andrew patted his chest with confidence. "I wonder what kind of credit line you need. Ten times leverage, perhaps?"
"No." Roger shook his head.
"Fifty times?" Andrew paused, then nodded after a moment. "That would be difficult, but not impossible."
"That still isn't enough." Roger's expression remained unchanged, but Andrew's heart gave a hard jump when he saw the boy shake his head again.
"Could it be one hundred times?" Andrew stared at him, wide-eyed and unable to hide his disbelief.
"Andrew, even one hundred times leverage only doubles the amplification compared with fifty." Roger spoke as if he were discussing a homework problem. "If we add the principal and this property together, could you borrow enough capital to short Soviet-related financial products?"
Andrew froze completely. His mind went blank for a moment, and he could hardly believe what Roger was saying.
Of course he knew the Soviet Union was politically unstable. Everyone in finance knew that. But this was still the Soviet Union, the superpower that had once stood toe to toe with America, the so-called European steamroller whose army could supposedly reach the English Channel within weeks.
Who had given Roger the courage to short a superpower? Was this the result of wizards knowing too little about the Muggle world? Andrew could not stop the thought from rising, and fear tightened his throat until his lips trembled and no words came out.
"I don't need you to monitor the international situation day and night." Roger leaned back slightly, his tone steady. "What I need you to do is short everything related to the Soviet Union. Short government bonds, short the ruble, short stock indices, and short commodity futures such as oil and natural gas."
"Then, at the right time, close the positions." Roger looked at Andrew's stunned face and smiled faintly. "You see? It's very simple. Where is your wolfish spirit, Mr. Andrew?"
"I… I…" Andrew made several strange sounds, but none of them formed a proper sentence.
His last major deal had also involved short selling, and it had ended with his account being liquidated by the counterparty. To be honest, he was already standing on the edge of bankruptcy. Now Roger wanted him to go short again, and this time the target was the Soviet Union.
Andrew could hardly imagine the outcome. Perhaps he would leap from a financial building. Perhaps the KGB would find him first and throw him into a steel furnace.
Roger stood, poured Andrew a glass of Haig Dimple whisky, and placed it gently in front of him. "You know as well as I do that the City of London is full of geniuses and hardworking men. But very few people can seize an opportunity before it vanishes."
"I, on the other hand, have an opportunity." Roger's voice was calm, but every word landed clearly. "What I lack is someone capable of executing it."
Andrew took a sip of whisky. The burn seemed to steady him, and slowly, his hands stopped trembling. His lips no longer quivered, and the fear in his eyes faded into something sharper.
He was already standing on the edge of a cliff. Sooner or later, he was going to fall anyway. If that was the case, he might as well place one enormous bet before the ground disappeared beneath him.
Once Andrew understood that, his posture changed. He set down the glass, and his tone became noticeably steadier. "Mr. Roger, would you happen to need a professional Muggle asset manager? I can provide you with a complete financial planning solution."
"Oh, good question." Roger leaned forward with interest. "That depends on whether your investment plan impresses me."
Andrew thought for a moment, quickly organized his ideas, then laid out a detailed investment blueprint. "First, I need to know the valuation of this property."
"The paper valuation is only six hundred thousand pounds." Roger answered without hesitation.
"Six hundred thousand?" Andrew had no idea which blind fool had produced that estimate. In his admittedly unprofessional opinion, the property was worth at least one and a half million, not counting the valuable interior decorations around them.
"That isn't important. You can recalculate it using your own valuation system." Roger's smile carried no guilt whatsoever.
"I understand." Andrew nodded, deciding not to ask further. "In that case, the first round of leveraged capital can be magnified eight times, and the real estate can be leveraged five times. Conservatively speaking, we can secure around seven million pounds in available funds."
"Very good. That gives us a sufficient base to operate from." Roger listened with great interest and nodded frequently.
"Exactly. That is the multiplier effect." Andrew's voice grew more confident as he entered familiar territory. "We use that money to open more highly leveraged accounts with major banks such as Barclays and HSBC. I have connections in those places. For example, the president of Barclays is an old classmate of mine."
As those financial terms poured from Andrew's mouth, Roger's eyes brightened. He had found his entry point into the Muggle financial world, and more importantly, he had found the right partner.
"Seven million pounds at ten times leverage gives us seventy million pounds." Andrew paused, letting the figure settle in the room.
"Not bad. That is already quite impressive." Roger nodded, then smiled. "But I hope to go even further."
"Further?" Andrew took another sip of whisky, and this time his confidence did not waver. "That is entirely possible, but Roger, are you familiar with betting agreements?"
"A bet?" Roger asked.
"That's right. A zero-sum game, and far more exciting than ordinary short selling." Andrew considered his words, then smiled. "With seventy million in capital, we can move off-exchange and structure private betting contracts. If we leverage that twenty times, that becomes one point four billion."
Andrew's voice trembled slightly as he said the number. Losing such an enormous sum would mean losing everything, and that might be the least of his worries. If Roger had not been a wizard, if he had not come from a pure-blood family, and if Thompson had not personally vouched for him, Andrew would never have dared to gamble like this.
"One point four billion." Thompson went rigid when he heard the figure, completely unaware that tea had spilled onto his clothes. A full one hundred and forty million Galleons. That amount of money could probably buy the entire British wizarding world.
"Roger… are you sure?" Thompson finally asked the question burning in his chest.
It was the same question Andrew wanted to ask but did not dare to say aloud. Both men looked at Roger, waiting for an answer that could make this madness sound even slightly reasonable.
"Confidence?" Roger looked at their doubtful expressions and gave them an answer that sounded utterly convincing. "I wouldn't dare say eighty percent, but one hundred percent is absolutely no problem."
"I am that certain because of a prophecy." Roger's tone lowered slightly, and the room seemed to quiet with it.
"A prophecy?" Andrew repeated.
"Yes. This month, the Soviet Union will experience violent upheaval. By Christmas, it will be gone." Roger looked from Andrew to Thompson, his expression calm and certain. "Believe in the power of magic. Fate is never wrong."
Thompson lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Then he looked at Roger and said, "Roger, count me in."
.....
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