"It's too soon for that, Millicent. I haven't received the award yet. There's no guarantee I'll actually win the Nobel Prize. However, I am expected to attend the royal reception in Sweden on the tenth of December."
"And where exactly is the problem?" There was a hint of mild surprise in the Minister's voice, as though she could not imagine what the difficulty might be.
"Hogwarts..." Richard let out a weary sigh. "Deputy Headmistress McGonagall flatly refused my request for leave to attend the Nobel Committee's reception. What's more, she ignored my father's written request and spoke very disparagingly of Muggles and 'their prizes.' Frankly, I have no idea how I'm supposed to handle a situation like this."
A sigh of relief drifted from the Wizardphone.
"Richard, I don't see any problem at all. I'll issue an official directive instructing Hogwarts to grant you leave on the tenth of December. I'll also assign an escort from the Department of Education and arrange Portkeys to and from Sweden."
"Millicent, you're wonderful!" Richard said, his spirits immediately lifting. "Thank you!"
"You're very welcome, Richard. I'm glad I could help."
"It was a pleasure speaking with you. All the best."
"Goodbye, Richard."
***
September flew by at the speed of the Hogwarts Express. Before Richard knew it, the nineteenth had arrived, falling on a Saturday. Fortunately, second-years, like first-years, had both Saturday and Sunday off. Saturdays were supposedly reserved for private study and homework, but most of his classmates spent the day entertaining themselves instead—playing Gobstones, Exploding Snap, Wizard Chess, hide-and-seek, and tag. The usual childhood games, merely adapted for magic.
Richi, however, had devoted the entire morning to financial matters. On Friday, he had already asked his father to send his Wizardphone to Silver for a while. According to the cover story for the employees, it wasn't an ordinary radiotelephone but a specially commissioned satellite phone, custom-built so it could place calls even from the ends of the earth—let alone from a private school with no telephone service.
After breakfast, Richard settled into a corner of the Hufflepuff common room and dialed the number for the manager of Grosvenor Junior—or rather, Gerald's direct line.
Mr. Silver's voice sounded slightly anxious.
"Good morning, sir."
"Mr. Silver, it's good to hear from you. I apologize for disturbing you on your day off, but I'd like to hear your report. How is our hedge fund doing?"
"Er... One moment..." Papers rustled over the speaker. "This week the stock market experienced Black Wednesday. On the sixteenth, the British Chancellor raised the interest rate from ten to twelve percent. The pound fell sharply against both the Deutsche Mark and the U.S. dollar—by two point fifty-two percent against the former and four point forty-nine percent against the latter. Fortunately, we'd already secured the loan and exchanged the pounds for dollars well beforehand. As a result, the hedge fund was able to capitalize on the currency fluctuations and realize the maximum possible profit. At present, we're up nine million seven hundred forty-three thousand dollars."
An involuntary smile spread across Richard's face. His voice was honey-sweet.
"Excellent. Continue expecting the pound to decline further. What other good news do you have for me, Mr. Silver?"
"Your father... The Duke instructed us to operate through your hedge fund. He invested a much larger sum..."
Richard was pleasantly surprised. During their earlier conversation, the Duke of Westminster had openly expressed his distrust of financial speculation. Yet, in the end, he had decided to join the very venture Richi had spent the past year preparing.
"Mr. Silver, how much did my father invest?"
The manager's voice faltered.
"F-five billion dollars... in borrowed funds."
Richi froze when he heard the figure. He had never expected his father to place such immense trust in him. A sheen of sweat appeared on the boy's forehead. He had never been absolutely certain that the pound would collapse while the Deutsche Mark would soar.
After all, this was not quite the world he had come from, but a parallel one. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. As he imagined what would happen if his father suffered massive losses, a chill ran through him. Richard himself had risked losing up to twenty percent of his investment—no more than fifty million dollars. Gerald, on the other hand, had risked an entire billion!
A bitter taste suddenly filled Richi's mouth, and his head began to spin. He was grateful he was already sitting down. Had he been standing, he was certain his legs would have given way.
"Excellent..." The words came out only with considerable effort, as though he were trying to winch a four-wheel drive out of a swamp. "Just excellent. Keep working in that direction. What are the analysts saying?"
"The financial analysts predict the current situation will continue at least until the end of September. They expect to realize gains of up to ten percent."
"Excellent. Mr. Silver, don't let this process out of your sight. Now, what about the power plant?"
"Your specialists have arrived at the power plant. They've fenced off the site and posted security. According to the expert commission sent to inspect the facility, all of the buildings have, rather astonishingly, been completely restored. The commission members were thoroughly amazed. The specialists say they've never seen a major renovation completed so quickly. The buildings look as though they're brand new."
"Mr. Silver, what about the equipment?"
"Everything is in perfect order," the manager replied. "The loan has been secured, the electrical equipment has been purchased, and it will be delivered shortly. The supplier has promised to complete installation and commissioning before the end of the year."
"Wonderful." Richard felt a satisfaction unlike any other—the kind that came from seeing tremendous returns on something into which he'd poured so much effort. "One last thing, Mr. Silver. How are things with the graphene?"
"The graphene, sir..." Silver shuffled through more papers on the other end of the Wizardphone. "Everything is going splendidly. A large number of research laboratories and scientific manufacturing companies have placed orders for graphene film. The total value of confirmed orders now stands at one hundred and one million dollars, and more continue to come in. The sales department has already forwarded the production requests to Research Department so the graphene can be supplied to our customers. According to the Finance Department's projections, by the end of next year we should be able to sell between five hundred and seven hundred million dollars' worth of graphene film."
(End of Chapter)
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