"Yes," Richard said briefly. "What about our dollar assets?"
"Sir," Dan said, snapping out of his daze, "we have just under three million dollars in our accounts. The rest of the funds are in circulation."
Richard picked up a document from the table, glanced at it, and said:
"Two hundred and seventeen million. Not bad, but it could be better. Mr. Silver, begin negotiations with the banks. We need an investment loan secured by securities, for the maximum amount possible."
"Sir," Dan said, wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, "a loan? For which project?"
"We'll arrange a separate loan for the power plant," Richard replied. "The Crown will act as guarantor there, so that loan is covered."
"If we're not talking about the power plant, then what is this for?" Dan asked.
"Mr. Silver, I need capital for currency speculation through a hedge fund," Richard said openly. "By the end of August, you should have the borrowed funds ready. Convert them into dollars, then buy Deutsche marks and wait for the pound to fall. I estimate the pound will reach its lowest point against the Deutsche mark around mid-October, though that isn't certain. You'll need to rely on brokerage reports. Your objective is to maximize profit from exchange rate movements while keeping risk under control."
"Sir," Dan said, growing more uneasy, "such operations could lead to major losses."
"I have professionals to manage the risks," Richard replied. "So make sure you do the same. Follow standard financial practices, and everything will be fine."
"But Mr. Rich," Dan continued, "why are you so certain the pound will fall?"
"It's obvious," Richard said. "The Bundesbank is maintaining higher interest rates than the U.S. and the rest of Europe, and despite pressure, it has no intention of lowering them. This will draw capital into Germany, strengthening the Deutsche mark and putting pressure on other currencies. The dollar will be less affected than the pound. That's why the pound–dollar–Deutsche mark–pound cycle offers the greatest profit potential. The Bundesbank is expected to announce its next rate decision in early September. That's when investors from Europe and the U.S. will start moving funds into Germany—and when the pound will begin to decline."
During Richard's speech, Mr. Silver sat with a stunned look.
"Um... I understand, sir," he said. "I'll pass your wishes on to the hedge fund brokers."
"Mr. Silver..." Richard's gaze grew stern, pinning the man to the chair. "I hope you won't ruin such a simple and effective scheme by leaking the information..."
"Y-yes, sir," Dan's voice wavered. For some reason, the little boy frightened him greatly at that moment. "I mean, no, sir... I mean, I won't tell the competitors anything... You can rely on me."
"That's great," Richard's menacing look gave way to a warm smile. "I'm counting on you."
========== Special Interlude ==========
Lucius Malfoy's day didn't go well from the very morning: Dill, his favourite peacock, fell ill...
The well-groomed aristocrat Lucius tried not to show impatience. He and his charming, yet seemingly cool, blonde wife stood on platform nine and three-quarters, awaiting the arrival of their beloved and only son.
And then that very moment came: the smoking red locomotive "Hogwarts Express" arrived at the platform.
Lucius and his wife projected a haughty air of superiority, looking down on the other wizards. Finally, their dear Draco emerged from the carriage. Narcissa Malfoy immediately disliked the boy's appearance. Draco looked dejected and paler than usual.
The Malfoys tried to keep a low profile in public. A sullen Lucius grabbed his son's suitcase and Apparated back to his estate. Narcissa hugged her son tightly and Apparated with him after her husband.
When all the Malfoys were home, Narcissa could not resist and asked:
- Draco, are you okay?
The boy sighed sadly, his shoulders slumped, and his gaze fell on the floor.
"Son, what happened?" Lucius asked coldly.
"It's all that Mudblood Rich and that nasty sixth Weasley with that vile Potter!" Draco said shrilly, throwing his head back.
Narcissa began to seethe. Like most mothers, the mere hint that someone had dared to offend her boy was enough for her.
- What did they do?
Draco had been holding it all in for too long. He sobbed. Tears streamed down his face. He began babbling hysterically:
"They... They... They've become completely insolent! First, Potter, instead of being friends with me, chose the sixth Weasley and Rich as his friends. Then, all year, that vile Rich, that filthy Mudblood, was throwing money around left and right. Dad, can you believe it? He paid Ravenclaw students over a hundred thousand Galleons just so they could play with pencil lead and duct tape!"
Lucius's eyes widened at the amount he'd been told. He didn't believe it.
"How much?" he asked, thinking he had misheard.
- One hundred thousand.
"How much, how much?!" Lucius' eyes widened even more.
- One hundred thousand!
- Draco, maybe you imagined it and we were talking about Knuts?
- No, dad, galleons. One hundred Morgan thousand galleons!!!
"Uh-uh..." Lucius froze and was in a daze. "Draco, is this for sure?"
"Of course, Dad! The whole school was talking about it. They said Rich needed to turn lead into film, and he promised a hundred thousand for the method. One time, the entire Ravenclaw class sat at breakfast with duct tape, arguing over who would turn the lead into film and how. It even came to blows, for which Professor McGonagall fined their house a hundred points. And at the end of the year, that bastard..." Draco choked with indignation. "He actually paid that money!"
Lucius' vision blurred. He barely managed to stay on his feet and clutched his heart, which skipped a beat for a moment. A thought flashed through his mind:
"Just think, a hundred thousand for some triviality! A hundred thousand Morgan Galleons for transforming a pencil lead!!! That's almost seven times our family's annual income. This Rich is insane and incredibly rich."
Narcissa listened to her son with wide eyes. She resembled a fish out of water, silently flapping her mouth and breathing heavily.
The shock didn't end there. Draco continued to complain:
"At the end of the school year, we decided to show those bastards their place..." the boy's voice grew even thinner, and his body shook with hysteria. "There were four of us... I thought Crabbe and Goyle were strong, and I brought Nott along with us. But they... they..."
"Who are 'they,' Dracokins?" Narcissa asked tenderly.
"Potter, Weasley, and Rich... They ignored us at first, like we were nothing. And they looked like they were so much taller than us, like they were the center of the universe... And then..."
"What is it, son?" Narcissa asked her crying son again.