Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 80: Laying out Bait

Chapter 80: Laying out Bait

“…and that’s the plan. Any questions?” I asked, looking around the room. Besides myself, there were my three lawyers and a couple people from the financial sector.

“Uh, are you sure, Mr. Rose?” one of my lawyers hesitantly inquired.

“I am,” I confirmed with a nod.

“It will result in quite a few hefty costs,” he warned. “And the hit to reputation may impact sales… and other matters.”

“I know, but it is for the best,” I assured him. “The problem is that I have to know when to pick my battles right now.”

I waved a hand at the numerous files and documents on the desk between us. “These lawsuits are frivolous, and contesting them will simply result in more money being wasted, especially if certain people try to tie us up in litigations. But that is the point. I want to ensure these are drawn out for as long as possible. Any PR hits we take because of it will fade in time and be forgotten quickly.”

“Why, though?” another legal advisor inquired, sounding somewhat incredulous. “We can easily get some of these dismissed! I mean, this one right here! The lawsuit claims that your hair growth cream caused hair to grow in somebody’s ears and he’s now deaf because of it! So easy to challenge this!”

I snorted, amused. Yes, anybody stupid enough to put hair growth cream so deep inside their ears that they went deaf definitely deserved what happened to them. But it was exactly the sort of thing I needed.

“Yes, we could easily get a judge to overturn some of these lawsuits, but you see, the point of all of this is to loose money,” I claimed. “The worse we do in court, the better!”

One of the lawyers nodded slowly, starting to see where I was going, but the others still looked skeptical, especially the guys from the financing department.

“There is a method to my madness,” I told them. Picking up one of the files, I continued, “See this right here? This zoning law issue for my waste disposal and recycling center is being pushed by some easily bribable government goons whose pocket are being filled by people who want me to fail. Now, I could just bribe them right back. But the more I struggle with dealing with it, and the longer everything is drawn out, the better it will be because that’s what certain individuals want.”

“You want to lose money… to convince people to bail you out?” one financier asked, his tone a mix of incredulity and intrigue.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “I know it may seem odd, but it needs to happen this way. Once I am approached with helping hands, the problems will all just… evaporate. Like dew under the sun.”

“This is quite risky,” the first lawyer warned me. “If this ‘help’ does not manifest soon, then your businesses may suffer bankruptcy.”

“Really? That’s even better!” I said cheerfully. “Bankruptcy will definitely make ‘helpful’ people crawl out of the woodworks. Can you arrange things to make this go along faster?”

The lawyers and money-men shared disturbed looks, but one of the guys who handled the money for my various businesses nodded slowly.

“I… yes, it’s possible. But the risks to the company and especially the employees-!”

“Don’t worry, nobody will lose their jobs and there will be no pay cuts,” I interjected. “I have… alternative sources of cash that don’t need to be mentioned right now. Just make it look like we’re spiraling towards bankruptcy. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Rose,” they said in unison.

Oh, I knew they didn’t fully understand. I didn’t blame them, though. The only times somebody wanted to run their business into the ground on purpose is when they plan on cutting loose and stealing a ton of funds.

Scams like that weren’t exactly uncommon, and if that’s what they thought I was doing, then I would let them think that for now.

‘They won’t be able to tell anyone what I’m planning, regardless,’ I thought to myself as I watched them leave the meeting room. The contracts they’d signed would keep them from spilling the beans to anybody outside the company.

‘I don’t need Sir Briar finding out what I’m doing. Not yet,’ I mused.

Hard to believe that just yesterday I was explaining my plan to the others in know. I was excited, because things were finally coming to a head. We were going to deal with this! Sir Briar was going to wish he’d just left me alone!

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Hard to say, considering that I was going to be manipulating his mind.

I shuddered, still a little skeeved out by the thought of having to deal with the old man by using magic to twist his free will, but I couldn’t do anything else. Giving in would result in me losing direct control over my businesses, and the risk of all the magic I used being revealed was too much.

There was also the fact that I need access to the resources Sir Brair and Gladstone Financial had at their disposal. Researching and creating a globe-spanning super-ritual was not going to be cheap.

‘I’ve spent over a million pounds on materials and supplies to create the ones I’ve already used,’ I thought to myself with a wince.

Dragon’s blood wasn’t cheap, and yet it was one of the cheapest substances with a bountiful amount of magic I could use to create the special ink that was necessary for the ritual.

Despite my cavalier attitude towards the loss of money I’d shown to my advisors, I really needed this gamble to succeed, or I’d be in deep trouble. I was pretty sure Sir Briar would leap at the chance to get me indebted to him, but there was still the danger of him actually letting me go bankrupt before swooping in and stealing everything from me.

‘Of course, if that does happen, Sir Briar loses the secrets of how my medicines and other businesses work,’ I thought. This was the key to the gamble, really. I was betting on Sir Briar knowing about magic, and that he knew that my products were so successfully because of this.

If my companies were stolen from me, I’d make sure that Sir Briar wouldn’t get the most important parts: the enchanted and runic equipment that allowed me to infuse everything with magic, or the employees who knew how to make and operate everything. I’d destroy the former and my magic contracts ensured the latter would forget everything to do with magic.

‘Should that happen, I could always start over again. But Sir Briar cannot, and he’ll have wasted a lot of money on a lemon,’ I thought, sneering a little at the idea. ‘And I have a feeling he knows all of this. I just have to wait and be patient, and that greedy old man will act sooner or later.’

Another idea then hit me. ‘Should I get Delilah to help stir things up? If Sir Briar learns that Mr. Hunt will try to step in and help his daughter’s boyfriend’s company, then the old man will definitely act sooner.

No idea why Sir Briar and Mr. Hunt were such bitter rivals despite being business partners, and I honestly didn’t care. Regardless of my opinions towards Delilah’s father, if I could use him to my benefit, I would, and I had a feeling Delilah would leap at the opportunity to do so as well.

‘I’ll bring this up with her later,’ I told myself. The idea was a solid one, and if I could play two enemies off of each other to make it better for me, then I’d certainly try.

‘Now, it’s time to move on to Phase 2,’ I thought to myself as I stood up and left the meeting room, taking the files and folders with me.

“Gladys, can you make some calls for me?” I requested from my secretary as I returned to my office, and Mrs. Calloburgh nodded primly in response.

“Yes. Same ones from the list you gave me this morning?” she inquired.

“That’s right. No need to make any additions. Just schedule meetings with them,” I replied.

“I’ll see to it immediately,” she assured me and I smiled gratefully. Mrs. Calloburgh was definitely a treasure. So helpful!

111 &&& 111

The next step was controlling the narrative and making it seem like I was bothered by all of these problems hitting.

See, I knew about leveraging technology to get my message out. Interviews in the newspapers, on the radio and TV. I would manipulate perception about me, and ensure that people were sympathetic to me, a poor, struggling start-up businessman, and not taking the side of the litigious assholes trying to sue me.

To that end, I was I’d had my secretary set up a lot of interviews with journalists and a few spots on talk shows. Minor ones, not big news stuff, but it was a start, and I had no doubt I’d be snowballing soon.

Hence why I was currently sitting in a booth at a radio station, preparing to have an interview with Big Ben, one of London’s popular DJs and radio hosts for the local radio channel. It was listened to by a large number of people, and was easily the best person Mrs. Calloburgh had managed to book me with.

“So, you ready?” Benjamin “Big Ben” Carlton asked me as he finished his set-ups.

“Sure am,” I replied confidently as I adjusted the headset microphone I’d been asked to wear.

“You do seem cool as a cucumber,” Ben commented, eyeing me closely. “It’s always a toss-up for people I interview.”

“I’ve gotten used to it,” I chuckled, causing Ben to snort.

“Suppose so. You know, you’re not really the type of person I invite onto the show,” he admitted. “I’ve interviewed actors, musicians, football players, even a guy who saved people from a fire. But no politicians or business tycoons.”

“Thank you for the compliment. But I’m not a tycoon. Not yet,” I replied and Ben laughed.

“You really are confident!” he said. “Well, let’s get this show started!”

A few lights in the studio turned green, and Ben let the intro sound clip play before launching into his speech.

“Wooo! London, it’s me! Big Ben here! Sure hope you enjoyed “I Would Do Anything For Love” by Meatloaf! It’s still a banger, after all! But you all know that already!” Big Ben said, his on-air persona filling the recording booth. “Now that we’ve had some fun, it’s time for Tall Talks with Big Ben! My guest for today is somebody you may have heard about in the news! He went from selling homemade remedies at Farmer’s Markets to the owner of a multi-million-pound medical company, it’s Edward Rose!”

“Thank you for having me here today, Big Ben,” I said, leaning in so the mic could pick up my voice. “And may I say that Meatloaf really outdid himself with that song? It’s going to go down in history, mark my words!”

“That’s Big Praise coming from a Big Man like yourself,” Big Ben said, and I chuckled softly.

“Just telling the truth. And I’m barely a man, really.”

“That’s right!” Big Ben said, clapping his hands. “You’re only twenty years old, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I’m still nineteen,” I replied with a smirk. “My birthday is in two weeks.”

“Damn! And already a millionaire!” he whistled.

“I had a lot of luck,” I replied.

“Is that so?” Ben inquired.

“I met my investors through a tutoring job. One of my clients happened to be the son of some very nice, but also very rich, people. Through their connections I met a lot of helpful people, including the love of my life,” I said, smiling fondly.

“I’m sure the single ladies will weep, knowing you’re off the market,” Ben winked.

“Probably, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied. “Still, I am immensely grateful for their help.”

“So, it’s who you know, eh?” Ben inquired.

“Such is life,” I shrugged. “Oh, hard work and a few good ideas doesn’t hurt, but you need to make connections. Humans are social creatures, and friends help friends. It’s just the way of the world.”

“So, if things are hunky-dory, then what’s up with all the lawsuits?” Big Ben inquired. “Is it true that your concoctions are, ah, ‘unsafe and dangerous?’ And that they ‘are the work of the devil?’”

“Ah, yes, I remember those two particular claims,” I drawled. “I suppose hair growth cream would be dangerous if, say, inserted into the ears, or any other orifice they don’t belong. But really, I have clear warning labels saying not to the do that!”

I shook my head as Ben hit the laugh track. When it ended, I continued. “As for the devil comment, well, I’m devilishly handsome, but my Vicar assures me I am not a demon of any sort.”

Ben gave a polite chuckle while hitting the laugh track button again, before folding his hands in front of him, his expression switching over to a serious one.

“What’s the deal, then? Why do you think you are being targeted like this?”

“Well, obviously, it’s because I’m the new player in the game,” I replied. “Several of the lawsuits are quite frivolous, and any decent judge would have thrown them out, yet the fact they’ve stuck around this long proves that somebody is keeping them around for some reason.”

“You think this is an attack against yourself?” Ben asked, sounding intrigued. “By the bigger medical players out there?”

“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “They’re just jealous of my products, and how much better they are. I’ve gotten death threats from several people I know for a fact are connected to Horton Hair, the biggest name in wig and toupee making in the UK, and Solutien, a hair growth scam product that’s existed well before my own, actually useful, hair-growth creams were even introduced.”

“Quite the claim,” Big Ben said, but the grin on his said told me he was loving the juicy gossip.

“Perhaps, but it’s quite easy to find these things out. It’s like they weren’t even trying to hide how many palms are being greased,” I snorted. “Now, I won’t name any names out loud, because that would be ‘slander’ and ‘libel,’ but I know. And that’s the most important part.”

“Sounds like you know a lot of things,” Ben commented.

“As a certain American hero likes to say, ‘knowing is half the battle,’” I said with a dry chuckle. Ben laughed along with me, before turning serious again.

“So, what’s your plan, then?” he asked me. “What exactly are you doing to get these problems resolved?”

“Part of that is getting my side of the story out there so certain people can’t get the facts twists is Step One,” I told Big Ben. “But the other part is going to be making sure my products are as useful and safe as can be so nobody can try to accuse me of selling unsafe products again.”

“I see, I see, that makes sense,” Ben hummed, before switching topics. “Let’s leave that dull and dreariness behind, and talk about something more interesting. Like, what’s your company’s next big project going to be?”

“Big project, huh? Well, we’re not really moving forward with anything right now due to the legal issues hitting us left and right, but before this happened, we were working on something very special,” I claimed, and I knew I’d hooked Ben.

“Oh? What would that be? Assuming you can tell me about it, of course.”

“Certainly. It’s not a secret, just a long-term project that’s been put on the backburner for now,” I replied. “So, you know my headache and hangover cure?”

“I sure do!” Ben confirmed. “It’s damn good stuff! It starts working much faster than anything else I’ve ever tried. Really helps after a night of partying!”

“Glad to hear I’ve got one satisfied customer,” I smirked, before turning serious. “One of Cauldron Remedies’ long-term projects has been to try and create a medicine capable of helping reduce the effects of Alzheimer’s and other mental problems, such as concussions.”

“R-really?” Ben uttered, and for the first time in the interview I managed to catch him off-guard. He was surprised, and yet there was a hint of… desperation? Or longing? I hid my satisfaction at having found his weakness, and knew I now had an ally in the media.

“Yes. The brain is a delicate thing, and the research was purely in the preliminary phases. But the medicine for fixing hangovers and headaches has revealed some interesting and promising results. We think it may be possible to find a way to eventually help the brain recover from any damage it’s suffered by using that medicine as a base,” I said, before sighing sadly. “Unfortunately, we had to cancel some of the funding for it, and pause the research while we handle the lawsuits. We simply can’t handle all of that at once.”

“I-I see,” Ben said with a slowly nod, before shaking his head and getting back into his carefree persona. “Well, if you manage to do that, I know a lot of rugby players who will be very excited for any other results.”

“And plenty of grandmas and grandpas,” I added, and seeing Ben flinch a little, I knew that someone in his family was suffering from some sort of dementia.

“Yeah, yeah, them too,” Ben agreed. “Let’s hope this silly legal stuff gets cleared up quickly so you can get back to the important things, eh?”

“I hope so too,” I said with a nod.

The two of us spent a few more minutes talking about different topics, such as other stupid customers doing stupid things with my products, and what sort of movies we were looking forward to seeing this coming summer.

But, eventually, our time together drew to a close, and Big Ben made a gesture at me, then at the people in the sound booth.

“Damn, man, it’s been real, but we’re almost out of time,” Ben said. “Before we go, Mr. Rose, is there anything you want to say?”

“Two things, Ben: First… I really enjoyed that iced tea you got me when arrived. I would really like the recipe,” I replied with a tiny amused grin. “Second, is that this isn’t the end. It’s just a setback. I’ll be bouncing back and better than ever sooner or later.”

“How confident,” Ben chuckled. “And I’m afraid Stacy has never told anyone her secrets to making the best iced tea in England.”

“Darn,” I said in mock disappointment. “I suppose I’ll just have to console myself with my fabulous wealth.”

Ben snorted at that. “Well, you heard it here, folks! Despite the opposition facing Mr. Rose, he’s not surrendering, and is getting ready to make the comeback of the century! Thank you for being here today, Mr. Rose!”

“No problem, Big Ben, I enjoyed it a lot,” I replied.

And with that, the interview was over. There was a bit more to do, but I wasn’t going to be involved as the radio station did some edits and prepared to slot it into upcoming airtime.

When it was time for me to leave, Ben shook my hand, but pulled me off to the side for a quiet, private conversation.

“So, that thing about a cure for Alzheimer’s…” he began.

“Yes, it’s true,” I told him. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

Indeed, I’d been working on a way to create something to cure the human brain of its ills for a while, now, and I had high hopes that Merula Snyde would be able to create something using her knowledge of the forbidden Mind Potion.

Of course, it was slow going, as the brain was easily the least understood organ in the human body. Not even magic could know all of its secrets. The mind was fragile, but I had a feeling that in a couple years I’d have a way to slow or even halt the degradation of the think-meats.

“I see,” Ben said slowly. “I see.”

He then nodded. “Well, you’ve got my support, Mr. Rose. I’m rooting for you.”

“You can call me ‘Ed’ if you,” I replied. “It feels weird to be called ‘Mr. Rose’ so much. Like I said, I’m only 19. Makes me seem old.”

“Sure thing, Ed,” Ben chuckled. “Well, again, good luck.”

“Thank you,” I replied, and with that, I knew I’d found a new ally. Who knew where this might lead? But any ally was a good one, especially those in the media.

‘Now, to see what Sir Briar’s reaction will be?’ I thought to myself as I got into my car. I was very interested to find out!

111 &&& 111

It wasn’t all fun and games for me. Oh, sure, I had fun spending time doing interviews and sharing my side of the story, but in between these moments I had plenty of less pleasant tasks.

Not just paperwork, though that did take up a significant portion of my time (when I wasn’t doing homework and preparing to graduate from university next year). There were

And, of course, speeches to make.

“…and to address the rumors about cutting benefits or letting some of the workers go, no there is no truth to any of that,” I said, having repeated this same speech a couple times already with my other enterprises.

Some employees had been getting antsy and worried as the lawsuits piled in, and I’ll admit, I sorta forgot about them and their morale when putting together my plan. So now I was scrambling to calm them down and assure everybody that no, I wasn’t going to be firing anybody or taking away the end-of-year bonuses.

I looked out at the truck drivers and other workers of Citrine Services, the waste disposal business the last one I had to handle. A couple people remained skeptical, but relief was present on a majority of faces.

“Now that that matter is out of the way, onto other things,” I continued, clapping my hands to get their attention again. “So, it has come to my attention that some people are using the ‘repair’ functions here, and then taking items home with them.”

Several feet shuffled nervously, and a couple awkward coughs rang out. I couldn’t blame them, really. People threw out lots of stuff that was barely damaged and still usable. And the Reparo talismans could fix up a lot of the superficial damage, as well as internal issues.

“To be clear, I don’t mind if you do this,” I informed them, much to their relief. “The repair shop is supposed to fix things up, after all. Just make note of the usage of the items, okay? We’re running out of ‘repairs’ because people would try and sneak them out and not record them when they’d be used.”

“Another thing I wanted to remind everyone about is to stay away from the ‘recycling’ pit when it is in use. Smithson fell in last week and nearly got ‘recycled’ so keep your distance! We’ll be installing guard rails around the pit so this doesn’t happen again!” I said, and the garbage man in question blushed at being called out for his mistake.

“Alright! Any questions?” I inquired, looking around the assembled workers.

“There’s a bunch o’ rats making a nest in the cafeteria!” somebody called out.

“Not a question, but thank you for letting me know, I will deal with it promptly,” I promised. “Anything else?”

“When are we getting new trucks?” somebody inquired. “We’re doing our best but the hauling is slowing down! We need more vehicles for the new routes!”

“That issue is known, and if things go well, we should have eight new garbage trucks by the end of April,” I told him.

“Is there a way we can get more parking?” another person wondered.

“I will look into it,” I said. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem, though.”

This went on for a bit longer, but eventually I answered their questions and satisfied their curiosity, and met up with Mark in his office at the recycling plant.

“Well done keeping things on track while we’ve been dealing with the suits, Mark,” I said, pleased by how smoothly the operations were running.

“No worries, boss, here ta help,” Marky Fetters replied. “And thanks for letting the guys go dumpster diving.”

“Hey, if they want an old couch or TV and don’t want to pay for it, they can have it,” I shrugged. “Not like we lose anything by not recycling the items. Not when we have literal tons of trash still coming in for processing.”

“True. Still, it means a lot to the blokes,” Mark said. “Though, uh, speaking of ‘recycling…’”

“Yes?”

“We might have a problem,” he said. “With, uh, some of the other Squibs on the payroll.”

“What happened?” I pressed, feeling concerned.

“They noticed I don’t need to use my blood to activate the alchemical stuff,” he informed me, and I frowned.

“Should have expected that,” I muttered to myself, before returning my attention to Mark. “What have you told them?”

“Nothing. I’ve deflected and waffled. But they ain’t idiots, boss. They know something is up and they’re getting pushy,” he warned.

“Hm. I better deal with that,” I hummed. “Actually… what do you think I should do, Mark? Should I let them take part in the ritual, like you did?”

“Part of me wants to say ‘no,’” the night club owner admitted. “They haven’t earned it yet.”

He then sighed. “But at the same time, I know that they won’t stop pushing. Plus… they’re Squibs. Like us, boss. Don’t they deserve their birthright, too?”

“A lot of good points,” I murmured. “In that case… I will tell them about the ritual. But only after they sign another contract with Oath Binding Ink. Having the other Squibs know about it will motivate them and cement their loyalty even further… and I do need more experimental subjects to see how far away a person needs to be for the ritual to work.”

If I wanted to change every person in the world into a mage, I first had to find a perfect vector for it. And while I had a feeling the Leylines would be key, I still needed to see what else I could do.

“I’ll tell ‘em you want to speak with ‘em, then,” Mark said.

“Just let me get the ink ready, first,” I requested. “And while I’m at it, I’ll make enough for all of the Squibs in my employ.”

“Alright. Let me know when you can do it. And, uh, try to do it soon? Not sure how much longer I can keep them from asking more pointed questions,” Mark warned, miming a stabbing gesturing.

I winced, not liking that at all, before coughing nervously. “Yeah, I better put in a rush order with Merula.”

Mark nodded at me. We went over a few more things, before I had to leave. There were things I needed to do.

‘Including letting my Potion’s Mistress know she’ll need to whip up a new cauldron of Oath Binding Ink,’ I thought as I left the recycling center. No rest for the wicked, or the good.