22 Financial Currents

Vernon Dursley found himself seated across from his nephew, Harry, the weight of the boy's gaze bearing down upon him like a physical force. Emerald eyes, sharp and penetrating, held Vernon in a trance-like state, his mind adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Gradually, the fog lifted, and Vernon blinked rapidly, his senses returning to him in a rush. He straightened his posture, clearing his throat as a flush crept up his neck. "Right, then," he began, his voice gruff. "If it's a trust you want, I'll see to it."

Harry regarded his uncle with a calm gaze, his expression gentle. "A trust would be good," he agreed, his voice carrying a lighter tone, almost playful. "However, my main concern lies in the strategic allocation of our resources."

Vernon's brow furrowed, his lips pursing as he considered his nephew's words. "Resources? You mean the money from those... papers of yours?"

A slight nod was Harry's only response, his demeanor relaxed.

"Well, out with it, then," Vernon huffed, leaning back in his chair. "What did you have in mind?"

Harry's fingers steepled before him, his gaze self-assured. "Vodafone and Sage Group," he stated, the names rolling off his tongue with a quiet confidence. "I believe investing in these companies would yield substantial returns in the years to come."

Vernon's eyes narrowed, skepticism etching lines across his features. "Vodafone? Sage Group? I've never heard of them. Are you sure about this, boy?"

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Harry's mouth, his expression one of quiet amusement. "Trust me, Uncle," he murmured, his voice having a tone one wouldn't expect from someone his age. "I have a knack for spotting opportunities."

Vernon shifted in his seat, his gaze darting from side to side as he mulled over his nephew's words. The boy's reputation preceded him, his intellect and accomplishments a source of both pride and unease for the Dursley family. Still, the notion of investing in unfamiliar companies nagged at Vernon's sensibilities.

"I don't know, Harry," he began, using his name for the first time in the conversation. "It all seems a bit... risky."

Harry's expression remained impassive, his eyes holding Vernon's gaze with an intensity that bordered on unsettling. "Risk is inherent in any business endeavor, Uncle," he countered, his voice low and measured. "But with proper planning and foresight, the rewards can be substantial."

After a moment's pause, Vernon exhaled a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. "Alright, then," he gave in, his tinged with a touch of surrender. "We'll do it your way. But if this all goes pear-shaped, don't come crying to me."

Harry's smile was small, barely there, his eyes sharp with confidence. "Understood, Uncle," he stated, each word measured and imbued with self-assurance. "Your trust in me is well placed."

oo0ooOoo0oo

The late afternoon sun bathed the Dursley residence in a warm radiance as Vernon and Harry prepared to depart, donning their jackets. Vernon's gaze fell upon Petunia, settled on the couch, her attention fixed on the flickering television screen, while Dudley lay sprawled on the carpet, engrossed in a video game on his Commodore 64.

Harry lingered behind, a silent observer, as Vernon approached Petunia. "We're going to the bank to establish a trust," Vernon stated simply, "with Harry as the beneficiary and me acting as the trustee. It's a way for him to invest the earnings from his published papers."

Petunia's brow furrowed, her surprise evident. "Stocks? At his age?"

Vernon's expression softened, a rare occurrence. "You know his capabilities. I trust his judgment."

Petunia's lips parted, a silent acknowledgment of Vernon's unexpected confidence in Harry. Rising from the couch, she nodded. "I'll keep an eye on Dudley."

Dudley's gaze shifted momentarily, curiosity piqued by the exchange, before returning to the game's vibrant pixels.

Vernon and Harry departed, and they slowly approached the car. Once inside, Harry's voice cut through the silence. "After establishing the trust at Barclays, we'll need to transfer the two million pounds from your account."

A fleeting shadow of greed crossed Vernon's features, swiftly extinguished by an unnatural calm that washed over him. He blinked, refocusing on the road ahead, acquiescing to Harry's words with a nod.

Harry's lips curved into a subtle smile.

The grand entrance of Barclays Bank loomed before them, its imposing facade speaking volumes about the institution's prestige. Vernon and Harry strode purposefully through the doors, their footsteps resonating on the polished marble floors.

Approaching a counter, Vernon cleared his throat. "We're here to establish a trust fund."

The banker's gaze widened with recognition upon seeing Harry, the renowned child prodigy, but their professionalism remained unwavering. 

A legal advisor was summoned, and the trio retreated to a private conference room. Vernon and Harry outlined their intentions, the advisor guiding them through the intricate paperwork with practiced ease.

Each stroke of the pen etched their names into the documents, binding them to the trust's terms. Vernon's signature flowed with a practiced hand, while Harry's strokes carried a weight beyond his years.

Upon concluding the necessary procedures, the advisor offered a nod, their gaze reflecting a measure of respect. "The trust has been established, and the two million pounds will be moved from your account, Mr. Dursley."

oo0ooOoo0oo

The grand lobby of Barclays Bank exuded an air of opulence, its marble floors polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the warm glow overhead. Vernon Dursley strode alongside his nephew, Harry, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space.

Nearing the reception, Vernon's eyes briefly darted to Harry, his forehead creasing just a touch. Harry's face showed nothing, his cool green eyes staring at the receptionist's face. 

"Good afternoon," Vernon said to the receptionist, his tone straightforward. "We'd like to meet with a financial advisor to discuss investment opportunities."

The receptionist nodded in acknowledgment. "Of course, sir. One moment, please." Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and after a brief exchange, she gestured towards plush seating. "Mr. Hawthorne will be with you shortly."

Vernon and Harry settled into leather chairs, the silence between them palpable. Vernon's fingers drummed an erratic rhythm against the armrest, a subtle betrayal of the unease that simmered beneath his stoic facade.

Harry remained motionless, his gaze sweeping across the lobby with a relaxed curiosity. 

A well-groomed man in a crisp suit approached, extending his hand. "Mr. Dursley, Mr. Potter," he greeted, his voice rich and resonant. "I'm Edward Hawthorne, your financial advisor."

Vernon rose, clasping the man's hand firmly, while Harry remained seated, his eyes appraising the advisor with a scrutiny that belied his tender age.

"Shall we?" Hawthorne gestured towards a nearby room, and the trio made their way inside, the door closing behind them with a soft click. 

Once seated, Hawthorne leaned forward, his elbows resting on the polished table. "Now, how can I assist you today?"

Vernon cleared his throat, his gaze looking towards Harry, silently deferring to the boy's expertise. Harry's posture remained relaxed, his fingers steepled before him as he regarded the advisor with a calm gaze.

"We're interested in investing in Vodafone and Sage Group," Harry stated, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that seemed at odds with his youthful appearance.

Hawthorne's expression briefly betrayed surprise before he quickly masked it with professionalism. "Interesting choices," he mused, his fingers tapping against the table in a contemplative rhythm. "May I inquire as to your reasoning?"

Harry's lips curved into a faint smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Vodafone is poised to take advantage of the expanding mobile communications market," he explained, his words flowing with a practiced ease. "Their infrastructure and market share position them for substantial growth in the coming years."

Vernon's gaze shifted between Harry and the advisor, his expression one of keen interest. He nodded slightly, showing that he was keeping pace with the discussion.

"And Sage Group?" Hawthorne prompted, his pen poised over a notepad, ready to capture Harry's insights.

"A leader in business management software," Harry continued, his tone carrying a note of finality. "As technology continues to expand across every aspect of modern enterprise, their products will become increasingly important."

Hawthorne hummed, his expression one of thoughtful consideration. "Sound reasoning," he conceded, his pen scratching against the paper as he jotted down notes. "However, I must caution you that investments carry inherent risks, particularly for companies operating in rapidly evolving markets."

Harry met Hawthorne's gaze calmly, his green eyes steady. "I understand the risks," he said quietly. "And I see their potential."

Hawthorne's gaze met Vernon's, a silent question passing between them. Vernon's lips pressed into a thin line, and with a slight nod, he signaled his agreement to Harry's judgment. 

The advisor's pen danced across the paper, capturing the details of their investment strategy, his movements fluid and practiced.

oo0ooOoo0oo

The park basked in the golden hues of midday, the sun's radiant warmth caressing the lush greenery and well-trodden paths. Amidst the gentle hum of activity, Lucas sat cross-legged atop a raised pillar, his form encased in an invisible barrier that emanated a gentle heat, rippling outward in a sphere around him. His green eyes were closed, his breathing slow and measured as he delved into the depths of his mind, seeking a solution to a challenge that had long eluded him.

Sensing the presence of others had proven to be a formidable task, one that Lucas had grappled with for some time. He had tried various approaches, from utilizing air currents and vibrations to manipulating objects in the wind and even attempting to use light to indicate movement. Yet, none of these methods had yielded the desired results. This time, however, Lucas had an entirely different visualization in mind, one that might finally resolve his concerns.

Drawing inspiration from the thermal goggles used by the snipers in Germany, he sought to imitate their ability to detect heat signatures. In the vast expanse of his mental sea, Lucas stood at the edge of the water, the sun's rays reflecting off the gentle waves like a thousand glittering diamonds. The air above the sea was cool, contrasting with the residual warmth of the sun-baked bedrock beneath the surface. This delicate balance of elements formed the perfect foundation for his spell.

Lucas envisioned the warmth from the sun's rays penetrating the surface of the sea, creating gentle thermal currents that wove through the cooler waters. These currents represented the warmth that all living beings emit, invisible threads that interlaced the cooler backdrop of the air and water. The air above the sea acted as a carrier, picking up the subtle differences in temperature from the thermal currents below.

Lucas imagined the wind gently stirring the surface of the sea, becoming a conduit for the thermal signatures carried by the currents. Each living being, he understood, was like a stone dropped into the vast sea, creating ripples of warmth that spread through the thermal currents. He focused on sensitizing his perception to these ripples, detecting the unique thermal signatures emanating from humans, distinct from the ambient warmth of the sea bedrock or the coolness of the deep waters.

With a deep inhalation, Lucas aligned himself with the sea and the air, blending his awareness with the thermal currents and the breezes above. As he exhaled, he released the spell into the sea and the air, his breath mingling with the wind, enhancing its capacity to detect and carry the warmth signatures back to him.

The spell transformed Lucas's perception, enabling him to feel the presence of people through the thermal ripples they created in the sea of his visualization. Whether stationary or in motion, each person altered the thermal landscape around them, their warmth creating subtle currents that the wind brought to Lucas's awareness.

To maintain this enhanced state of perception, Lucas kept a part of his consciousness anchored in the sensation of the sea and the air, feeling the interplay of warmth and coolness. This connection allowed him to continuously monitor the thermal currents and the air, providing a constant stream of information about the presence and location of people within his vast sea.

However, the complexity of the visualization proved to be a strain, and Lucas found himself struggling to maintain the intricate interplay of elements. His brow furrowed, a slight crease forming between his eyes as he sought to simplify the process. Gradually, he began to imagine his sea at twilight, where the thermal currents created by living beings glowed faintly against the darkening waters, each ripple a beacon of presence. This mental image streamlined the detection process, focusing on the contrast between the natural warmth of life and the cooler, serene environment of his vast sea.

As the visualization solidified, Lucas felt a subtle shift in his awareness, a heightened sensitivity to the thermal signatures around him. He could sense the faint warmth of a jogger passing by, their footsteps leaving a trail of ripples in his mind's eye. A family picnicking on the grass appeared as a cluster of glowing embers, their laughter and movements creating a dance of warmth against the backdrop of the park.

But Lucas could feel the strain of maintaining the spell. His breathing grew more labored, and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple, evidence of the mental exertion required to sustain such a complex visualization. With a slow exhalation, Lucas allowed the spell to dissipate, feeling the thermal currents fade from his perception as he returned to the present moment.

His eyes opened, revealing a steely determination in their emerald depths. While he had achieved a measure of success, he recognized that this was merely the first step in mastering the art of thermal detection. Constant practice and refinement would be necessary to simplify the visualization and extend the duration of the spell, but Lucas was undeterred.

As Lucas sat atop the raised pillar, his mind delving into the intricacies of his visualization, a wry smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The irony of his situation was not lost on him—a child prodigy, celebrated for his brilliance, yet struggling to master a seemingly simple task. The thought sparked a hint of amusement in his emerald eyes, a rare moment of levity amidst his relentless pursuit of magical mastery.

Perhaps, he contemplated, it's time to bring some order to this chaos. The idea of naming his combination spells had a certain appeal, a way to categorize and compartmentalize the various techniques he had developed. His mind wandered to the spell he had just crafted, the intricate interplay of thermal currents and air that allowed him to detect the presence of others. Thermal Currents of the Vast Sea, he thought, the name rolling off his mental tongue with a satisfying cadence. It was a fitting title, capturing the essence of the visualization while hinting at the vast potential it held.

His thoughts then drifted to the spells he had employed in Germany, the ones that had helped him immensely amidst the chaos and destruction. The memory of his enhanced speed, the way the wind and water had propelled him forward with a force that belied his small frame, brought a glint of satisfaction to his eyes. Wind's Gale and Water's Swell, he decided, the name a nod to the visualizations he had harnessed.

And then there was the spell he had used to absorb the flames, to deprive the inferno of the oxygen it craved. The image of the fire, its hungry tongues licking at the air, only to be swallowed by the misty breeze he had conjured, brought a cold smile to his lips. Misty Breeze, he thought, the name a deceptively gentle moniker for a spell of such devastating potential.

With a deep breath, Lucas unfolded his legs and rose to his feet, his invisible barrier shimmering in the midday sun. He cast a glance around the park, taking in the lush greenery and the distant sounds of laughter and chatter.