"Please change into your shoes, Young Master Snape."
Kreacher reappeared in the gloomy entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, holding Severus's worn, Muggle-made boots. He gently, respectfully placed them on the floor directly in front of the half-blood boy.
Severus stared down at his feet, his jaw dropping slightly. The shoes had been completely, flawlessly transformed. The heavily worn, scuffed leather had been miraculously mended by house-elf magic, and the dull, cracked surface was now polished to a brilliant, mirror-like gleam. They looked exactly as if they had just been purchased from an expensive boutique in Diagon Alley.
"Severus, Kreacher is going to Apparate us directly to the Leaky Cauldron to access Diagon Alley," Regulus said smoothly. He reached out and lightly grasped Kreacher's knobby hand, giving the ancient house-elf a warm, highly approving look.
Kreacher instantly puffed out his little, bony chest, practically vibrating with absolute delight. Kreacher loves Young Master Regulus the absolute most, the elf thought fiercely, tears of devotion pricking his massive eyes.
A short, dizzying Apparition later, the two young wizards were sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, bathed in the bright, warm London sunshine. They sat at a small, wrought-iron table beneath a brightly colored parasol, enjoying massive, dripping sundaes.
"I want to open a shop here in the Alley," Regulus said suddenly, completely shattering the comfortable silence. "Actually, no. At least two shops. I want a massive, multi-level flagship store."
He took a slow, deliberate sip of the iced grape juice in front of him, setting the crystal cup down with a highly practiced, confident posture that practically screamed 'pureblood CEO.' He looked across the table, his dark eyes burning with terrifying ambition. "I currently have two highly detailed business plans. We might not possess the capital to open a physical flagship store right away, but we can absolutely start laying the foundational planning now—"
A child who was barely pushing five feet tall casually talking about multi-store real estate acquisitions and venture capital might objectively sound incredibly childish and absurd. But Regulus had absolutely no one else in this timeline he could trust with his modern knowledge yet, so he had no choice but to plunge ahead and pitch his ideas to the twelve-year-old potions prodigy sitting across from him.
At the very least, Regulus thought, getting a lucrative business off the ground will completely solve Severus's crippling financial issues.
Because, as the Muggles accurately say: Money gives people courage, and it provides an absolute, unshakeable sense of security.
The psychological effect of the pitch was actually quite good. Severus was leaning forward over his melting ice cream, listening intensely, his dark eyes sharp and focused. Compared to the childish, empty boasting of their wealthy Slytherin classmates at school, Regulus had proven that he truly always delivered on his promises, and his magical theory was impeccable. Therefore, Severus firmly believed that Regulus's financial schemes were highly credible.
"The first plan is a highly specialized magical defense items shop," Regulus said, pulling a heavy silver ring from his robe pocket. The metal was intricately carved into the shape of a coiled, rising serpent. "I 'liberated' this from a forgotten cabinet at home. It contains highly compressed, ancient magic and can passively, instantly cast a high-level Protego Shield Charm up to seven times before the internal rune shatters."
He pushed the heavy silver ring across the table, allowing Severus to pick it up and observe the intricate runic carvings carefully.
"I've personally tested its reaction speed with Sirius during our live-fire dueling practice in the attic. It's incredibly useful, bordering on life-saving." Regulus leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I don't know if you've been reading the political section of the Daily Prophet lately, Sev, but as far as I can tell, the overall security situation in the wizarding world is continuously, rapidly deteriorating... Under this violent trend, adult wizards are going to desperately need items exactly like this to ensure their personal safety."
Regulus paused, tapping his finger on the table. "There's a highly lucrative financial concept in the Muggle world called 'insurance'. You've heard of it, right?"
Severus nodded slowly, his mind racing. He genuinely hadn't expected this aristocratic, pureblood little wizard to know so much about Muggle economics.
"Then you must know human nature," Regulus continued smoothly. "People are incredibly, desperately willing to spend massive amounts of money to actively ward off disasters that haven't even happened yet! They will throw Galleons at you just to buy the feeling of averting misfortune. Even during times of relative peace, there will always be paranoid, wealthy buyers for defensive products like this."
That actually makes a terrifying amount of sense, Severus agreed internally, turning the heavy ring over in his hands.
"And for an artifact like this ring... as long as you find the right wizard—someone highly skilled in advanced Transfiguration and basic Alchemy—the actual raw production cost isn't high at all. Not to mention, if we intentionally manufacture them to be disposable after a certain number of uses, we guarantee repeat customers."
"Of course—speaking of production costs—" Regulus stopped, looking steadily and deeply into Severus's dark eyes. "As Rowena Ravenclaw herself famously said: Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."
Regulus leaned back, his voice dropping into a smooth, hypnotic cadence. "Raw Galleons can be earned by literally anyone with a bit of luck. But your raw, instinctual talent for Potions, Severus? That is absolutely priceless."
Regulus watched a faint, pleased flush spread across Severus's sallow cheeks. There's a massive chance here, Regulus thought, ruthlessly continuing to press his psychological advantage. "Potion-making is an incredibly precise science and a strictly disciplined craft. Not everyone can do it, no matter how hard they study. And with raw, unparalleled talent like yours? Total market domination, vast wealth, and international glory are merely a matter of time."
(Author's Note: Yes, Regulus is shamelessly stealing Severus Snape's own iconic "I can teach you how to bottle fame and brew glory" speech from the future, and aggressively selling it right back to him as a motivational pitch.)
Severus's spine straightened slightly, his chest puffing out with pride as a rare, genuinely confident smile appeared on his face.
"The second business plan," Regulus announced dramatically, "is entirely reliant on your specific Potions talent!"
Severus leaned in even closer, his eyes burning with intense ambition, desperate to know exactly how he was going to become rich. But Regulus suddenly leaned back, aggressively creating suspense.
"But before I reveal the master plan," Regulus smirked, throwing a few Sickles onto the table to pay for the ice cream, "we need to go investigate the local competition!"
Diagon Alley, Number 275.
The two boys stepped through the ornate glass doors of Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions. They were instantly assaulted by a dizzying, suffocatingly sweet floral aroma and blindingly bright, pink-bubbled decorations covering every inch of the walls.
"Welcome... er... welcome, gentlemen..." The young witch working as a shop assistant blinked in utter confusion, staring at the two serious-looking, black-haired boys marching into a shop currently packed full of wealthy, gossiping ladies. She clearly wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation. "Young sirs... do you require any assistance?"
"No, thank you. We're just browsing, trying to find a suitable birthday gift for my mother," Regulus lied flawlessly, deploying a charming, innocent smile. Several wealthy, middle-aged witches nearby who were currently selecting anti-aging products cast several highly approving, cooing glances at the polite pureblood boy.
The shelves were packed. Various expensive styles of acne-curing potions, highly concentrated anti-wrinkle creams, glowing skin serums... these were all things Severus historically paid absolutely zero attention to. He followed the highly serious Regulus, silently stalking around the shop like a spy, carefully examining the inventory. He even spotted a massive display of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion—the wildly successful Potter family shampoo and conditioning potions—dominating the center shelves.
Right in front of them, a beautiful, incredibly arrogant blonde witch casually waved her wand, levitating several highly expensive Potter hair products directly into her already overflowing shopping basket.
Hmph, Severus sneered internally.
But what did any of this ridiculous vanity have to do with his lethal Potions talent? Severus, feeling entirely bored, casually picked up a beautifully decorated, crystal sample vial of 'Radiant Glow Serum' and gave it a professional shake.
Suddenly, his dark eyes widened in absolute, unadulterated shock.
He held the vial up to the light. Judging purely by the liquid's specific viscosity, its reaction to being shaken, and its underlying color beneath the pink dye... wasn't this exact formula basically just a standard, first-year Scab-Removing Potion? The only difference was that someone had aggressively added a cheap lilac fragrance and magically altered the color to make it look pretty!
And the retail price tag hanging from the neck of the vial read: One Galleon and twelve Knuts?!
He popped the cork and sniffed the pink potion again, his highly trained nose instantly confirming his suspicions. He was almost completely, one-hundred-percent certain that there were absolutely no rare or expensive potion ingredients inside this vial. The base ingredients cost roughly three Knuts to purchase in bulk.
Is this a joke? Severus thought, his mind reeling. This isn't a business... this is literal, legalized robbery!
"Good day, Madam Zabini! Did you find everything to your liking?" At the front checkout counter, another shop assistant greeted a wealthy customer loudly and enthusiastically. Severus's sharp ears easily caught the heavy, highly satisfying clinking sound of dozens of gold Galleons and silver Sickles hitting the till.
Using the basic, foundational mathematics he had learned in his Muggle primary school before attending Hogwarts, Severus rapidly ran the profit margins in his head.
Suddenly... he started to completely understand Regulus's master plan.
Ten minutes later, after thoroughly browsing the heavily perfumed potion shop and fully understanding the utterly insane, highly inflated retail prices of the cosmetics industry.
"Brand identity," "Initial Seed Investment," "R&D overhead," "Technology Stake equity," "Clinical Trials," "Mail Order distribution," "Venture Capital Investment"...
Standing outside a quiet coffee shop further down the Alley, Severus listened blankly, his head spinning as various complex, highly advanced economic terms he had never heard before in his life tumbled effortlessly out of Regulus's mouth.
As a modern gamer, Regulus had aggressively played and mastered no fewer than five different, highly complex economic management simulation games. Therefore, his theoretical corporate knowledge was more than sufficient to fully support his confident "boasting" to a twelve-year-old.
Honestly, Regulus thought, taking a sip of coffee, I really have to thank modern game designers. When my everyday Muggle life was so incredibly narrow and boring, it was those complex management games that allowed me to learn advanced concepts and access a much wider, strategic world.
"Also, I have a genuinely massive idea, heavily inspired by watching my mum's ridiculous skincare routines," Regulus said, his eyes gleaming. "I'm going to launch a completely brand new, revolutionary cosmetic product. If we promote it properly to the pureblood wives, it will definitely sell like absolute hotcakes."
The more Regulus spoke, the more he genuinely felt like a charismatic Muggle marketing guru giving a TED Talk.
If I were actually Voldemort, Regulus wondered briefly, would I be willing to be this aggressively corporate and inelegant when promoting my evil schemes? Probably not. The Dark Lord has no head for capitalism.
"If this initial product launch succeeds and shows massive profit margins," Regulus continued, tapping his chin, "then I can easily get the Black family estate to officially invest massive venture capital into our startup."
He whipped out a roll of parchment and a self-inking quill, and started rapidly writing and drawing a schematic on the table.
Slowly, something vaguely resembling a horrifying, featureless skull face appeared on the parchment.
Severus stared at the drawing, thoroughly disturbed. What in Merlin's name is this? A new Dark Mark?
"My absolute ace business plan," Regulus announced proudly, tapping the drawing. "Magical sheet masks!"
...He proceeded to explain the entire concept of infused, disposable facial sheet masks in excruciating, highly technical detail to Severus. And Severus, a dirt-poor half-blood boy from an industrial slum, clearly knew absolutely nothing about such high-end, Muggle 'girlie' things.
But this was a cosmetic concept that would literally drive women completely crazy in later generations; Regulus had absolute, unshakeable confidence in its market viability. And hey, Regulus thought pragmatically, if it really doesn't work out in the wizarding world, I could always just patent the idea and sell the business model directly to Muggle Procter & Gamble. Come to think of it, P&G definitely exists in the 70s, right?
Regulus rolled up the parchment and looked Severus dead in the eye, offering his hand.
"Right now, Sev, we've only taken the very first step. But I promise you, an incredibly glorious, insanely wealthy future definitely belongs to us." Regulus smiled, his charisma turned up to the maximum. "Are you willing to invest in the future with me?"