A New Year, A New Game

January 1982

Returning from Paris, James felt refreshed, but his mind was already shifting gears. The vacation had been a momentary pause in his relentless march toward success, a brief moment to breathe before diving back into his plans.

The first major event of the year was the release of E.T.'s first teaser. It was short — just a few glimpses of the film's core moments — but it was enough. The industry buzz was immediate. Executives whispered about how it could be the biggest box office hit of the year, and audiences were already clamoring for more.

James knew what was coming.

E.T. wouldn't just be successful — it would be a phenomenon. It would break records, define a generation, and solidify Spielberg's name even further in cinematic history. But more importantly for James, his name would be forever attached to one of the most iconic films of all time.

That alone would open doors.

But he didn't plan to sit back and let success carry him. If there was one thing Hollywood had taught him, it was that momentum must be leveraged. Fame was fleeting — he needed to convert it into power.

At the same time, his publishing ambitions were also moving forward.

His mother had submitted Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone to Scholastic and a few other major publishers. The early responses had been promising — some editors were intrigued — but there were no official offers yet.

James knew the publishing world was slow, but he hoped that American publishers would not be as blind as British ones.

Meanwhile, his financial empire was quietly growing.

The profits from his gold short were still sitting in carefully structured investments, compounding steadily. His financial team kept close watch on the stock market, ensuring that his assets were diversified and protected.

But James wasn't just interested in safe bets.

There were bigger opportunities on the horizon.

Two names had been on his radar for months: Microsoft and Oracle. Their IPOs wouldn't happen until 1986, but James had already set things in motion. His asset manager had begun subtly reaching out, inquiring if any early investors were willing to part with shares before the companies went public.

It was a long-term play, one that required patience. But patience was something James had in abundance.

Still, Hollywood required more immediate moves.

James had been carefully watching the power dynamics within the industry. He took note of which executives were rising, which were falling, and who was looking for new, independent projects. He attended industry parties, not as a child actor, but as a future mogul. He listened more than he spoke, absorbed every conversation, and studied how deals were made in real time.

If he wanted to direct his own film, he needed to make the right connections.

He already knew his first project — Home Alone.

A film that, in his past life, had been a cultural and financial juggernaut. A project that studios would initially hesitate on before realizing its true potential. But James didn't intend to wait for the studios to understand — he will make it and sell it to the highest bidder.

And then, in the middle of all this planning, the call they had been waiting for finally came.

James was in the living room, flipping through a trade magazine when he heard the phone ring. His mother answered, expecting another routine conversation with an agent or business contact.

Instead, she froze.

Her smile bloomed as she turned to look at him.

'James,' she said, her voice hushed. 'It's Scholastic. They want to sign a contract for Harry Potter.'

A slow smile spread across his face too.

The pieces were falling into place.