Investments

A few days later, a sleek black owl arrived at the Black Manor, carrying a letter sealed with the distinct insignia of Gringotts. Damian eagerly accepted the letter, recognizing the familiar script of Bloodaxe. He tore it open and read:

Dear Master Black,

I have successfully conveyed your message to Randolph Spudmore regarding your investment proposal. He will arrive at the bank tomorrow to discuss the details further. I trust you will be prepared for the meeting.

May your vaults overflow with gold,

Bloodaxe

A satisfied grin spread across Damian's face. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. The next day, he made his way to Gringotts, anticipation bubbling within him.

Upon entering the ornate bank, he quickly scanned the interior, taking in the marble floors and goblin tellers scuttling about with their usual urgency. Spotting Randolph Spudmore waiting near the entrance, Damian approached the young inventor. Randolph was a wiry man in his thirties with tousled brown hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose. He wore a simple yet elegant robe, its fabric slightly rumpled, suggesting he had been preoccupied with thoughts of the meeting. As he caught Damian's eye, his expression shifted from anxiety to cautious optimism.

"Master Black," Randolph greeted, his voice wavering slightly. "I received your message. I must admit, I didn't expect to be summoned by the Black family."

Damian extended his hand, a confident smile on his lips. "It's good to meet you, Randolph. Let's head to Bloodaxe's office; I'm excited to discuss your future—and, of course, the future of the Firebolt."

They made their way through the bustling bank, finally reaching the office of Bloodaxe, the Black family's long-time accounts manager. The goblin's office was adorned with various trinkets and artifacts, displaying his wealth of experience. Bloodaxe sat behind a polished obsidian desk, his sharp features and keen eyes scrutinizing them as they entered.

"Welcome, Master Black and Mr. Spudmore," Bloodaxe greeted, his voice gravelly yet respectful. "I trust you are ready to discuss this significant investment?"

Damian nodded, gesturing for Randolph to take a seat beside him. "Yes, Bloodaxe." he turned to Randolph "Let's see what we are investing in."

With a proud grin, Randolph reached into his bag and pulled out a sleek broomstick, holding it up for Damian to see.

"This is the Firebolt," he said, placing it gently on the table. 

The broom's polished wooden handle gleamed in the light, and its aerodynamic shape was unmistakable. The bristles, perfectly aligned and shimmering with a hint of enchantment, suggested speed and precision.

"Just look at the craftsmanship," Randolph continued, his voice filled with pride. "Every detail has been meticulously designed to ensure not only performance but also aesthetic appeal." The runes etched along the shaft glowed faintly, hinting at the powerful magic woven into its very core.

As Bloodaxe prepared the contracts, Damian turned to Randolph, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "So, tell me more about the Firebolt. What makes it so special?" 

Randolph's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Oh, it's incredible! The Firebolt can reach speeds of up to 150 miles per hour! Its finish is not just for looks; it's enchanted to enhance aerodynamics, making it incredibly stable during flight. It also has an unbreakable brake charm. The firebolt has a polished ebony handle that is diamond cut. 

"Plus, the materials we use are exceptionally durable—much more than any broom on the market. We've even infused it with charms that make it resistant to wear and tear, ensuring that it can withstand the rigors of competitive Quidditch matches." 

He paused, a glint of pride in his eyes. "It's not just a broom; it's an experience."

Damian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What materials set the Firebolt apart from other brooms on the market?"

Randolph leaned in, careful to what he is sharing. "I use a combination of self-designed runes and goblin silver. The runes are specifically crafted to enhance the broom's speed and stability, while the goblin silver acts as a conductor for magical energy. This combination allows the Firebolt to respond to the witch or wizard's intent more effectively than any other broom out there." 

His eyes sparkled with excitement. "It's what makes it truly unique; the Firebolt isn't just a tool for flying—it becomes an extension of the rider."

Damian nodded, gesturing for Randolph to take a seat beside him. "Yes, Bloodaxe. I believe we can make Firebolt Industries a household name. However, for that to happen, I need to hold a majority stake in the company—51% to be precise." 

Randolph's eyes widened in disbelief, his face paling. "You want to take control of my company? I built the Firebolt! It's my invention!" 

"Randolph, I understand how you feel," Damian said, his voice steady and calm. "But think of it this way: my intention isn't to overshadow your work or diminish your role. I want to provide the resources and connections necessary to elevate Firebolt Industries to new heights. With my backing, we can secure major contracts, attract more investors, and ramp up production to meet the growing demand." 

Randolph's expression shifted slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he considered Damian's words. "But wouldn't that mean losing my creative control?" 

"Not at all," Damian reassured him, leaning forward. "You'll still be the heart of the company. Your vision and creativity are invaluable, and I want to ensure they're front and center. This is a partnership—one that can allow you to focus on what you do best while I handle the business side of things. Together, we can create something extraordinary.

"Think about it: with my resources and connections, you could expand your production, increase sales, and ultimately profit far more than you would on your own."

As Randolph listened, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his mind. Here he was, a seasoned inventor, sitting across from a twelve-year-old who was laying out a vision that made sense. The words rang true, yet they were difficult to accept. How could he, a man in his late twenties, be lectured on business by a child?

"But what about my vision?" Randolph finally countered, crossing his arms defiantly. "I don't want to lose control over my creation."

"Randolph," Damian said, leaning forward, his tone earnest, "this isn't about losing control. It's about growing your vision. Together, we can revolutionize the broom market. Imagine the advertisements, the sponsorships, the possibilities! You'll still be the face of the company, and I'll ensure that your creative vision is honored."

Randolph hesitated, glancing down at the floor as he mulled over Damian's words. Bloodaxe's sharp gaze flitted between the two, sensing the pivotal moment unfolding before him.

"I just... I don't want to regret this decision," Randolph murmured.

Damian placed a reassuring hand on Randolph's shoulder. "I understand your hesitation. But think of all the young witches and wizards who dream of flying on a Firebolt. You'll be giving them that chance—and earning a fortune while you're at it."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Randolph sighed, a resigned smile breaking through his uncertainty. "All right, Damian. You've convinced me. Let's do it."

"Excellent," Damian said, his heart racing with excitement. "You won't regret this. We'll draw up the contracts right away, and soon, Firebolt Industries will soar to new heights." 

Bloodaxe, who had been listening intently, felt his respect for Damian grow as he witnessed the young heir navigate the complexities of the negotiation with maturity beyond his years. It was clear to the goblin that Damian was not just a boy from a prestigious family; he was a strategist and a leader in the making.

With that, Bloodaxe began preparing the necessary documents, his goblin hands moving swiftly as Damian and Randolph exchanged determined glances, both knowing they were on the brink of something monumental.

After signing the document, Randolph leaned back in his chair, his expression a mix of excitement and apprehension. "This is a huge step, Damian, but I'm going to need a substantial amount of money to ramp up production. Flawless brooms don't come cheap, you know."

Damian nodded, already anticipating this need. "Bloodaxe," he called, turning to the goblin who had been observing the proceedings with keen interest. "Please transfer 10 million Galleons to Randolph's account."

Bloodaxe's eyes glimmered with approval as he noted Damian's decisive action. "As you wish, Master Black," he replied, swiftly making the necessary arrangements.

"Randolph," Damian continued, "while you work on the production of the Firebolt, I want you to market it aggressively. I suggest you build at least seven flawless prototypes and then negotiate a contract with a well-known Quidditch team. If they agree to play with the Firebolt and promote it during their matches, it will not only generate buzz but also bring in significant funds."

Randolph's eyes widened with realization. "You're right! If a team like the Chudley Cannons or Puddlemere United endorses the broom, it could skyrocket our sales."

"Exactly," Damian replied, a confident smile spreading across his face. "Then we would increase the prices of the brooms with different levels and showcase them to the public. Let's make this happen."

With a renewed sense of determination, Randolph nodded. "I'm on it, Damian. In less than a year our broom will be the king of the skies."