Brooms and Cocks ch.18

Exiting the bathroom, freshly washed and dressed, Harry Potter found Hermione waiting for him with a bag. The charming, petite woman had put in a lot of effort with her makeup and outfit, and his gaze kept returning to her shapely behind.

"We should have enough time to get there and prepare, in case there's no traffic," he reassured her. "Don't worry about being late. After yesterday's announcement, they'll want to hear what we have to say. Too many opportunities for profit and disruption."

Amelia was waiting for them in the back seat of the limousine, a champagne glass in hand. The alluring Italian had a smile on her face, unable to contain her excitement as they drove through San Jose on their way to Cupertino. She bombarded Hermione with questions, to which his assistant responded with growing irritation. Both ladies showed their frustration in different ways, but thankfully left him alone as he gazed out the window. It was his first time in California, and he was curious about the place, but along the freeway, there wasn't much to see besides the sprawling city and occasional glimpses of the bay.

With every mile passing under the limousine's tires, he expected anxiety and apprehension to creep in, but he only felt a buzzing thrill of excitement, akin to what he usually felt before a race. He was excited but not nervous, and he began to do breathing exercises that helped him focus before a race.

Breathing deeply, filling the back part of his lungs, he allowed himself to meditate on his dreams. He imagined a broomstick, cheering crowds, the flash of gold in the hand of the driver standing on the podium. He saw a shop and a storefront where they would sell his brooms, avoiding dealer politics and local bureaucracy.

A calm enveloped him, and his mind filled with a vision of himself, with crystal-clear details. His face was adorned with a short, neatly trimmed beard, and he wore a tailored Italian suit. Each arm was wrapped around a different woman, and as his mind swept over them, he felt a flicker of surprise.

Instead of the sisters, Hermione and Amelia on both shoulders, his stepmother, Kate, held one side, and Eleonora Zabini the other. Behind them walked Hermione and Amelia, and behind them, the smaller sisters. In the distance, more shapes appeared; their curves were distinct, but their faces blurred.

It was his dream; the ultimate reward, and in his tranquil state of meditation, he could access it without fear, guilt, or shame.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice was faint and distant until he snapped out of his trance and looked at her. "We're here... everything okay? You've been sitting there with a smile on your face the whole drive."

"I'm better than okay," he said, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her slender neck. He pulled her into a passionate kiss, leaving her breathless and with a fluttering chest, allowing her to see the confidence he felt in the smile that graced his lips.

"What...?" Her voice trailed off, and her dark eyes tracked his face as she stared at him in astonishment.

"Today, we take another big step towards the future we're pursuing," he said, turning to also embrace Amelia. "Trust me, and I'll give you both the world."

"I entrust you with my life," Hermione breathed, her voice full of emotion. Amelia furrowed her brow, unwilling to go that far, but nodded. "I trust you, but my investment is minimal. I'm here for the show."

"Not anymore," Harry said, shifting on the seat bench and moving closer to the sturdy woman. "I want you to take on the role of Chief Financial Officer, which will be announced tomorrow."

Amelia's eyes widened, and for the first time, it seemed like she was at a loss for words. He moved to open the door, but her hand shot out, stopping him in his tracks.

"This is a real role in your company, Harry," her eyes searched his, seeking what he couldn't say, but whatever she found seemed to echo in her heart. "If I'm to be a figurehead, I can understand, but I have no experience in this role."
"You know more about the industry than anyone else I could think of, and you have connections that will make finding sponsors easier than for other teams. Hermione can assist you with financial matters, but I need your mind and instinct."

"Did Eleonora ask you to do this?"

"No one asked me to do this," he said, squeezing her hand and watching as the fear dissipated from her eyes. "I've been wanting to find a role for you for a while, and when Hermione asked who I had in mind for this position, your name was the only one that came to me."

"If you're going to make me smear my makeup," she said, her eyes watering, her lips spreading into a wide smile as she wiped away tears before they could fall. "You clever boy, of course I'll do it!"

Despite her words, her makeup was smudged after she threw her arms around him and kissed him thoroughly. From Amelia's throaty murmurs as her hands touched his arms and hands, it seemed she wanted to do more than just kiss him, but time was pressing.

"Remember to let me do the talking once we're in there," he reminded the pair as they exited the limousine and straightened their clothes.

Leaving their bags and laptops in the limo, he looked at the spiraling glass walls and carved columns in the modern building. He saw the central circle of trees, a small park no bigger than half an acre but looking like a little farm, complete with goats munching on grass.

"Mr. Potter?" asked a pretty young woman with a tablet, pushing open the large glass doors to let them in. "I'm Fionna, your guide and attaché during your visit. If you and your guests would like to review and sign the NDA, I'll take you to the conference room."

"A pleasure, Fionna," said Harry, taking the tablet from her.

She showed him a respect he'd never received in Godric's Hollow, and he realized that with so many startups and tech companies run by Hogwarts alumni, it was more accepted in this culture. He didn't count on his youth as an asset, but perhaps it could be used in a space where most CEOs were fresh college graduates, and billion-dollar valuations handed to nineteen-year-olds were not uncommon.

The NDA agreement was standard, so he signed it and handed back the tablet, wanting to admire the strange architecture of the building through which she led them. The foyer was beautiful, but as they passed the offices, it looked like a playground for children. Foosball and ping pong tables were set up between desks, and the lights were dimmed.

Fionna led them upstairs to a large, glass-walled conference room. Inside, four men awaited, two with assistants by their side. Most were busy tapping away on laptops, but one young man with slicked-back hair was staring out the windows with a bored expression. As they approached the office, he sat up straight, said something to the others, and plastered on one of the most fake smiles Harry had ever seen.

"Is this the man of the hour?" asked the smooth-haired guy as Fiona pushed open the glass doors to the conference room. "The genius who wants to revolutionize British wizarding sports?"

"Not revolutionize, just revolutionize," said Harry, approaching him to shake his hand. "After yesterday's announcement, your timing couldn't be more perfect."

"After yesterday's announcement, your timing couldn't be more perfect," said another young man, who sat at the table with a second assistant, a pretty brunette with a high, perky bust and a sharp gaze. "I'm Connor Whitaker, and this rapscallion here is Everett Vanderlite."

"At your service," said the smooth-haired young man. "And these are John and David, managing partners here."

The two older men nodded in greeting as Harry took his seat at the head of the table. Hermione sat to his right, and Amelia to his left, each of them earning approving looks from Everett Vanderlite.

The handshake from the first man was weak, his hands as soft as a woman's, but Connor's handshake was firm and confident. Harry debated whether to let the first impression carry too much weight, but he liked this man and felt he could trust him in a way he hadn't trusted the other.

"Thank you, Fionna, that will be all," said John. "Becca, could you fetch me a Fresca? I'm parched," said Everett in a pleading voice that made Hermione frown in disgust. Connor caught her at it, and Harry saw a smile on the young man's lips before he softened his expression.

"Do I assume correctly that you've begun securing tools and products for the manufacturing plant?" Connor asked. "Connor, old chap, let Harry rest and settle in first. Hermione, how about you? Would you like something to eat or a glass of sparkling water?"

Hermione shook her head, politely declining. However, Harry sensed her growing frustration with Everett's focus on her. Not wanting to offend the man at his own meeting, she sat with her hands folded in her lap, trying to ignore his gaze fixed on her face. Harry wanted to shield her from the man's attention, but she had dealt with such things from men in meetings longer than he had.

"If she needs anything," Harry said, unable to keep the tension out of his voice as he looked Everett Whitaker in the eyes, "I'll let you know."

His eyes shifted from Harry to the beautiful, petite woman at his side and back, then widened in understanding. A nasty expression crossed the man's face. It was the look of a spoiled child who had just been told he wouldn't get a toy, and as quickly as it appeared, the plastic smile returned.

Anxiety churned in Harry's gut.

This meeting was crucial for securing the necessary funding, but he wasn't naive enough to think that funding wouldn't come with any strings attached. Could he trust this man to not have any power over him? He immediately found the answer to that question and silently thanked Hermione for insisting he be able to change the presentation.

Adapting what he had planned to say, he shifted the focus from Vanderlite Industries to Whitaker. Whitaker's portfolio didn't fit as well with what he wanted to achieve, but he had to trust his instinct. "British broom markets have stagnated and become obsolete," Harry began.