HP: The Son of Tom

The word had been accurately thrown around:

Investments.

And the goblin, Kravix as he had introduced himself shortly thereafter, caught her like an ancient predator hungry for metal and opportunity.

"An unusual request," he said, crossing his long fingers over the desk, "Especially coming from someone so... young."

"And that's a problem?" replied Aurelian calmly, without a trace of insecurity.

"No. It's a warning."

Kravix got up and went to a side shelf where he opened a small chest with brass latches. He took out a document bound in dark green leather and placed it on the desk. The title, in gold lettering that changed softly in the light, read:

Investment, Management and Acquisition Systems - Gringotts Private Division.

"Gringotts has centuries of experience managing fortunes, assets, business alliances, even magical properties spread across the globe" the elf explained as he opened the book to a section marked with a red ribbon "We offer private accounts, fake legal figures for discreet investments, magical contract protection, independent audits, everything needed to keep the gold flowing... without the names making noise"

Aurelian flipped through the pages without touching, only with his eyes.

"And do they also manage investments for young men with no history or title... except one that perhaps everyone would rather forget?"

"Ancient blood carries more weight than surname" Kravix replied without hesitation "The Gaunt name is not loved, but it is respected. And now, it has a face again."

Aurelian was silent for a moment, thinking over his next words.

"I have a starting capital of about twenty thousand galleons" he said finally "I haven't made any major decisions yet. But I want to start moving them intelligently. Study the market. Identify stores with potential. Create alliances under a discreet figure. No bragging."

"All of that is possible" Kravix stated "We can create an alternate business identity for you, a firm protected by ancestral magic that will answer only to your blood. In addition, you can authorize magical agents, we call them legal ghosts, they are responsible for making investments on your behalf in magical markets and in some cases, even Muggle ones if you wish"

Aurelian narrowed his eyes.

"And all under Gringotts' control?"

"Under Gringotts supervision, yes. But always with his direct approval. No one moves a single galleon without his magically signed order."

Aurelian thought about the vault he had just claimed. He knew there was no gold or gems in there... but there was something more important: the symbol of a beginning.

"Then I want to make you an offer, Kravix" he said, his tone as serious as an adult speaking among equals "You know the magical economy better than anyone. You have seen my lineage, my intentions and my name. So I ask you: do you want to be the steward of the Gaunt Vault?"

Kravix raised an eyebrow. His face, almost always unperturbed, showed a hint of genuine surprise. And then, a slow, sharp smile, like an edge coming out of a sheath.

"That's not a common offer."

"Nor am I a common figure" replied Aurelian without arrogance, only certainty "I can learn fast, but I need an ally who knows his way around this world better than I do... for now."

Kravix studied him silently, then spoke in that voice that combined diplomacy with financial instinct:

"Managing a vault linked to an ancestral family with dark legacies... is not something an goblin would do out of politeness."

Aurelian kept his gaze steady.

"What is your price?"

Kravix narrowed his eyes.

"Five percent of the net profits generated by any investment transaction, whether it is in the magical or Muggle world. Nothing more. Nothing less."

The boy thought for a few seconds. He did a quick calculation in his mind, not just of money, but of strategic value.

And he nodded.

"I accept."

Kravix extended a thin, bony hand, with nails sharp as onyx.

Aurelian shook it.

And so was sealed the first deal of what would be a new era for House Gaunt.

Kravix waved his hand gracefully, and a file cabinet floated to the desk. As he opened it, multiple documents began to unfold like enchanted wings. Each sheet contained coded information about stores in Diagon Alley, the Night Emporium, and even international markets.

"As a new investor client, you are entitled to access the Gringotts Internal Business Opportunities Bulletin" said the goblin as he rearranged the papers with surgical precision "Here you will find reports on stores with expansion potential, failing businesses with valuable assets, or markets not yet saturated. Many wizards don't understand the value of what they have...until it's all gone."

Aurelian read names of small robe stores, makers of handcrafted cauldrons, distributors of potion ingredients in Hogsmeade village, and even an old magical bookstore in Paris that was on the verge of closing for lack of heirs.

"Which of these sectors has the most turnover?" he asked without looking away.

"Potions and brooms" Kravix answered immediately "Though potions have small margins if you don't control production, distribution and permissions. Brooms... are another game. They require investment in development, but they generate brand loyalty and international visibility, especially in the sports arena"

Aurelian looked up.

"Tell me about the brooms. The most relevant companies."

Kravix nodded and pulled out a small, specific dossier.

"Currently, the market is dominated by three main manufacturers."

Comets (Comet Trading Company)

- Antique. Traditionalists. Manufacture reliable and economical models.

- Famous for the Comet 260, popular among students.

- They don't innovate much, but have a global presence.

Nimbus Brooms (Nimbus Racing Broom Company)

- Young company, but on a meteoric rise.

- The Nimbus 1500 model has just been launched and has revolutionized the market with its speed and maneuverability.

- Rumor has it that they are working on a new, even faster broom for 1990.

Cleansweep

- Very popular with Quidditch teams.

- Focused on sport brooms with competitive balance.

- The Cleansweep Seven is their current flagship model.

"And is there room for new actors?" asked Aurelian.

"Right now... not many people think so. But if someone manages to make a model that is safer, faster or stronger than what's current... or introduce a truly innovative design element, they can grab a share of the market. Especially if they target the youth or professional sector."

Aurelian pondered silently. The concept of aerodynamic design, the use of strong muggle materials like carbon fiber, or even magical stabilization mechanisms... ideas were beginning to swirl.

"You could acquire silent participation in Nimbus or Cleansweep" Kravix added "Or you could also buy smaller workshops and turn them into a division of your own."

Aurelian looked down at the report. He would not make hasty decisions. But he could already see it clearly: there was room to make history in the air.

"And is there anyone who controls the broom distribution market?"

"Not formally. Each manufacturer is in charge of its own chain, although some use distributors in local markets. A weak link... that can be used to advantage."

Aurelian nodded, as a new word slowly formed in his mind:

Gaunt Brooms.

But he wouldn't write it down yet. Not yet.

__________

Kravix closed the last scroll and secured it with a Gringotts seal that burned faintly with financial magic.

"If you are content, we will sign the contracts and I will officially begin acting as your investment representative and account manager."

Aurelian nodded without hesitation.

"Do it."

The goblin pulled out a silver stiletto enchanted with a ruby core. A small incision, a drop of blood on the contract, and the ancestral seal of Gringotts glowed brightly for a few seconds before fading.

"From now on," Kravix said, stowing the documents in a runic-locked chest, "any financial transactions, acquisitions, diversification or asset management linked to the Gaunt vault will be handled exclusively under my stewardship, with direct approval from you."

Aurelian allowed himself a small smile.

"Perfect. I want you to set fifteen thousand galleons in motion. Keep them in a separate compartment inside the vault and start working with them as a primary investment fund. Discreetly. Nothing visible yet."

Kravix inclined his head, satisfied.

"As you wish, Mr. Gaunt. Both your gold, and your vision, are already in place."

Later that day, Aurelian was walking down Diagon Alley in a simple, second-hand tunic, no embroidery, no crest. The goal was clear: to go unnoticed. No one was to see the Gaunt heir, much less link him to financial movements or market research.

Stinky followed him at a distance, disguised as an elf beggar, but with his eyes wide open. Always alert.

Aurelian stopped in front of one of the oldest stores in the alley:

Flintwick's Brooms & Flight Gear.

A carved wooden sign showed brooms floating gently under a suspension enchantment. Three models were displayed in the window:

Cleansweep Seven, elegant and understated.

Comet 260, practical and affordable.

Nimbus 1500, shiny, aerodynamic, with small silver runes on the handle.

It went in quietly. The smell of varnish, treated leather and magic dust enveloped him. A couple of customers were talking to a clerk about replacing the bristles on a broom damaged by hail during a school game.

Aurelian did not interrupt. He just observed. The distribution, the clientele, the weak points: high prices, few methods of personalization, no attention for children or magically disabled customers.

Lack of segmentation. More attractive designs AND real magical differentiation, he thought.

He grabbed a flight catalog and walked out inconspicuously. Outside, Stinky waited for him discreetly under an enchanted lamppost.

"Did you see everything, young master?"

"Enough" murmured Aurelian "The market is old. It is well positioned, but asleep. It fears no competition. That makes it weak."

The gate creaked softly as it closed.

Aurelian entered the orphanage almost unseen, but not fast enough to prevent Mrs. Hargrove, the night manager, from detecting him with her voice sharp as a cutting spell of silence.

"Riddle! Do you think it's time to go back, it's past seven o'clock!"

Aurelian lowered his head, taking in the scolding with studied resignation. The rules were strict: departures had to be brief and justified.

"I stayed reading in the library... I didn't see the time."

"That's what you always say! You think because you have good grades you can do whatever you want?"

"No, no ma'am."

She snorted and jotted something down in her checkbook. Then he waved her off to his bedroom.

He didn't insist. She didn't need to.

That night, like many others before, Aurelian locked himself under the covers with his magic light lit by his fingers, softly as a lamp. He unfolded a sheet of parchment and an old leather-bound notebook he had bought for two sickles. Inside, amid scattered sketches and notations, he began to trace what might become the real thing.

Flying broom: Project A1-G.

Goal: maximum speed + maneuverability without sacrificing stability.

Target audience: professional players / elite pilots.

Inspired by the principles of aerodynamics he remembered from his past life, and what he knew of the still non-existent Fire Saeta, Aurelian began to write down the essentials:

Individually calibrated magic bristles with floating ebony core.

Spruce handle reinforced with runic fiber (proprietary theory).

Intelligent height adjustment system with micro level settings.

Secondary core for reactive magic stability.

Activation with magic fingerprint recognition (experimental prototype).

Power without control is an accident.

Control without power... is boring.

Every night for weeks, he refined the concept. He even tried basic incantations on loose branches he stole from the yard, testing for buoyancy, vibration and directionality. Nothing flew yet... but the important thing was theory.

Aurelian understood something that most magical inventors of the time did not grasp: magic could follow rules, if given the right form.

____________

One cloudy afternoon in early April, while reviewing a book on magical strength of materials, a gray owl burst through the common dining room window and landed on her empty plate. No one else paid attention. The bird dropped a letter with the unmistakable Gringotts seal.

Aurelian broke the seal.

Mr. Gaunt:

Your presence is required at Gringotts at your earliest convenience.

Subject: investment progress.

Private Room 13 - Kravix.

- G.G.

He smiled slightly. Something had moved. Something was already bearing fruit.

He rose from the table, with the same silent air as always.

Only he knew that underneath that patched school robe, an empire was growing.