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Brooms and Cocks ch.9
🕑 Added 2024-01-22 13:00:01 +0000 UTC"What do you know about racing?" She looked around the room, realizing that Hermione had left them alone. She turned back to Harry, furrowing her brows in anger.
"I know my father was interested in it," Harry began cautiously, fully aware of the mercurial nature of the woman before him. "I know your family is prominent in the sport and produces some of the best runic engines in the world. Her eyes narrowed, but Harry continued. "I know there were some agreements between you, but I can only speculate on their details."
"Go on," she challenged him, daring Harry to continue. "What do you think Eleonora Zabini, a young man, would agree to?"
"I know you want another team on the grid, but they want an English team to open up this sport to a new market. I know the Big Three are falling apart, and you'd sooner bite off your tongue than get back in bed with them," Harry stated, and she turned around and spat.
"I'm not hearing anything about contracts," she replied, leaning back and crossing her arms.
"Engines for podiums," Harry said, noticing a slight corner-of-the-mouth twitch confirming his hunch. "Power for position. You agreed to sell my father engines for the car he was designing. In return, Zabini was to get an infusion of cash, no obligations, and an agreement that in the first year, he'd podium or he wouldn't be committed to delivering engines anymore."
"That's not the entirety of our deal... but it's close enough that I'm suspicious," she admitted, a hint of skepticism in her tone, as her eyes sparkled with an unusual emotion: curiosity. "I assume you intend to honor the agreement? Do you have your father's contacts in the Big Three? Can you convince four dozen of the top engineers to join your startup?" Her furrow deepened as she shook her head. "Unfortunately, I don't think so."
"Maybe I don't have his connections yet, but I share his determination. You can bet against us if you want, but you'll only be disappointed. I doubt a woman like you enjoys disappointments," Harry retorted.
She smiled, leaning back and accentuating her impressive figure with the silk blouse. She was acutely aware of the impact she had on men, and Harry noticed the corners of her lips curl into a predatory grin as his eyes roamed her face.
"I don't believe you'll succeed," she remarked dismissively, waving her hand.
Harry's facial expression betrayed his surprise at her next words, and she laughed heartily. "Don't get your hopes up, kid. No, I'm not looking for a husband, but rather disruption." She emphasized the word, striking his desk and leaning forward with an intense gaze. "I want those old, outdated fools and gray-haired idiots in the executive positions to be disoriented. The racing politics have been against my family for the past decade, and conglomerates have taken control. Do you see that, yes?"
Harry nodded, well aware that a few international conglomerates had infiltrated the manufacturers, exerting a detrimental influence on the sport.
"I'll be honest with you," she began, shaking her head. "I never thought your father had a chance. But by trying, he'd give me a better negotiating position."
"And if he had won?" Harry asked.
"Then it would have been a win for me and my family... Do you really believe you can build a broom and get it ready for the first qualifications in Australia?" she asked.
"If I didn't believe it, I wouldn't be sitting here," Harry replied, gesturing towards the old wooden-paneled office. "In this relic from the '40s, banging the desk. I'd have taken up the invitation to Hogwarts and be chasing tail right now. Yes, Eleonora, I truly believe we can make it."
She studied him for a moment, tapping her manicured fingernail against her chin, then nodded decisively. "Two engines and a spare. That's all I can afford, and Zabini will take fifteen percent equity in your teams, including earnings."
"Ten," Harry countered, realizing he was risking it all if he pushed too hard, but he also suspected that Eleonora Zabini wouldn't respect a man who accepted the first offer she presented. "And your agreement that if we make it to the podium, you'll go on a date with me."
"A date?!" Her reaction seemed torn between anger and amusement, but ultimately, she settled on the latter. "For a man who walks onto the grid like Alexander into Persia... that's a man I'll be dating... and nothing less."
Harry wasn't sure where his last demand had come from, but this woman was playing tricks on him. Her bold personality and commanding presence hadn't initially endeared her to him at his father's funeral, but now, seeing her in her element, discussing racing and business, she was more captivating than any woman he had ever met.
"Then we have a deal," Harry said with a wink, standing up and extending his hand.
Eleonora leaned back, rose to her feet, and firmly grasped his hand. Even in heels, she was a tall woman, and he was seated as Hermione had escorted her into the office. When she looked up at him, her amusement seemed to wane, and her breath quickened as she glanced at the breadth of his shoulders.
"You're an intriguing man, Harry Potter," her smile sent a shiver down his spine as she released his hand and turned to leave, giving him an unobstructed view of her flawless posterior. "Perhaps the power units won't go to waste on another English fantasy...?" There was a hint of curiosity in her tone as she looked back over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. She caught him checking out her rear, and he saw her smile deepen and her eyes brighten. Before he could respond, she gracefully exited his office, her heels clicking down the corridor.
In her tone was a trace of curiosity as she glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Harry. She had caught him admiring her behind, and he noticed her smile deepening and her eyes brightening. Before he could reply, she slipped out of his office gracefully, her heels clicking down the corridor.
In less than an hour, they confirmed that three power units were being prepared for shipment in a container and would be on their way that day. The excitement Harry felt after reading the details of the shipment was only balanced by the increasing stress he felt on his shoulders.
Hermione proved invaluable in that first week and beyond. Harry had a clear vision of what he wanted to achieve, but he lacked the knowledge of the necessary processes to make it happen. Brilliantly, she acted as a project manager, organizing the schedule based on Harry's priorities. Thanks to her knowledge and tireless efforts, they were well-prepared when news of the Great Triad's merger was announced. They were ready to seize the opportunity and disrupt their supply lines. Panic spread among manufacturers across Europe, and newspaper headlines only heightened their concerns.
They used this uncertainty to secure contracts and hire staff, increasing their production capacity but also depleting the company's modest remaining capital. With Amelia's help, Harry managed to keep the banks at bay for now, but without sales and investments, financial ruin loomed.
After the initial week in which he found his footing, Harry began sifting through stacks of CVs sent by recruitment firms from across the country. He was looking for engineers, but the candidates he saw didn't inspire much confidence. There were countless young runic engineers with excellent records from prestigious schools, but their experience was largely theoretical. Many of them could boast achievements like math wizardry or spelling bee champions, but they lacked practical experience working on brooms. Harry grew increasingly concerned when Amelia called him at the beginning of the third week.
"I hope you've chosen a nice suit because you have a meeting in Palo Alto," she informed him.
"Palo Alto? Where's that?" Harry asked.
"It's in California, in Silicon Valley," Amelia explained, her accent becoming more pronounced in her excitement, making it challenging for Harry to keep up with her rapid speech. "My friend is an angel investor, and his investment firm is always on the lookout for promising startups. I mentioned your project during dinner yesterday, and he was intrigued."
"I don't run a tech company," Harry pointed out. "Why would he be interested in racing or sports cars?"
"Harry, he's a billionaire. One of his friends races Muggle toys... for fun. Go tell them what you're building. What could it hurt? He wants to meet on Thursday, and I persuaded him to lend us his private jet. You'll come," Amelia insisted convincingly, a hint of determination in her tone. "And bring Hermione."
"We'll be there," Harry agreed, already thinking about the upcoming opportunity.
He gathered Hermione and began strategizing with her. She contacted Amelia, obtaining a list of people attending the meeting. As she started researching them, Harry worked on turning his ideas into a persuasive presentation.
Harry was surprisingly excited about this process. Public speaking was never his favorite activity in school, but this was different. It was something he deeply cared about, something that sparked his passion, and he knew he could make others feel the same way.
In his mind, he began sketching out a marketing strategy. He saw its rough outline, key phrases that would resonate on TV and social media, ideas that would stick in people's minds. As he took notes, he became increasingly frustrated by his lack of knowledge about the advertising and promotional industry.
He realized that attracting investors wasn't all that different from attracting fans. To make the venture a success, they would need to draw fans from all over the country. Could he become a PT Barnum-like figure, a showman who could capture people's imagination?
The idea thrilled him, but he knew he couldn't rely solely on his own skills. They would have to hire the right people to execute their plans and ideas. That evening, as they reviewed the list of meeting attendees prepared by Hermione, Harry floated the idea of hiring a marketing team early in the process.
"That's a smart move, but we can't afford it," Hermione warned. "Perhaps you don't fully realize how expensive advertising can be. A single ad on a major TV market can cost hundreds of thousands, even millions during prime time."
Harry pondered this for a moment. "If only we knew someone with marketing experience who would be willing to work for free and think outside the box."
"I'm hesitant to bring her up, but your stepmother was once a guerrilla marketing genius."
"Wasn't she a model?" Harry asked, realizing he didn't know much about her life before marrying his father.
"In her youth, she leveraged her experience as a model with great success. Remember that viral video with the sexy woman on the beach and two guys trying to muster the courage to talk to her? She had her face buried in the sand the whole time, but that was your mom. She orchestrated it all for a company."
"Interesting," Harry replied, but then he shook his head. "She has a lot on her plate now. It's probably best to let her grieve without the added stress of business."
"Sir, may I speak freely?" Hermione rarely held her tongue in the office, reserving her submissive side for hours, but when it came to personal matters, she always reverted to her role as my confidante.
"Go ahead, say what you want," I replied, giving her the green light.
"You spoil that woman too much, sir," Hermione furrowed her brows, her delicate features clearly indicating that she had held this in for a while. "A woman like Kate needs a firm hand; otherwise, she'll self-destruct in search of freedom from the pain of grief."
