Updated A/N 30/12/12: This really needs a rewrite to actually make sense with how stock sales work, but I'm still struggling to wrap my head round it so it may take a while. Economics and finance are not my strong point so I'm bluffing my way through most of this.
Disclaimer: Mostly not mine etc.
Chapter Nine
It was four days before Gwen saw Barty again, and this time she was slightly less surprised when he turned up in her office without an appointment on Monday afternoon.
He smiled at her, "Hi Gwen, how are things going?"
She smiled back. "Good, thanks."
"I meant with my banking."
Of course he did. She glanced down at the piece of parchment on her desk that was constantly being updated. "Your stock value's gone up twelve sickles and three knuts."
She looked back up at him, and he seemed disappointed. "Is that all?"
"I only got this set up on Friday. You can't expect to make a huge amount yet. There isn't enough money in your account for you to start taking huge risks at the moment, but once you can invest more you can start making more."
He nodded thoughtfully, "How long will that take?"
"Give it a few months. This is a long term thing."
He seemed disappointed, but accepting of the fact he couldn't do anything about it. "Okay."
"If you're just here for an update on how things are going, that's pretty much all there is to report. I can give you a balance card though, it'll keep you updated on how much you've made." She opened a drawer in her desk and handed him a white rectangle of card.
He examined it. "It's blank."
"You have to take it to one of the goblins downstairs to activate it, and they'll synchronise it to your account. Your balance and shares you've bought will show up on it sort of like a mini version of that wall over there." She pointed to her left, and he looked to where all the market information was being written out in blue and red. "It's synchronised with the ticker tape on Fisk Alley, so you can keep up to date."
"Ok, thanks."
"Anything else I can help you with?" she was hoping for some kind of insight into what he was doing all this for, but was doubtful she would get one.
"Actually, yes." He then paused for a moment as if considering something, then continued. "Well, you know the kids have gone back to Hogwarts today. Well, my father's travelling up to Scotland this weekend for a meeting with Dumbledore to review Hogwarts security. The healer suggested my mother might benefit from a change of scenery so she's going with him."
She wondered why on earth he was telling her this. Was he looking for sympathy? She supposed she could give him that. "Poor you. I hate being in the house on my own for long periods. I get really lonely without my parents around."
He looked at her as if she'd completely missed the point. "Well, I suppose that's what I'm trying to say."
"Huh?"
"Gwen, I'm asking if you'd like to come round to mine this weekend."
"Oh." She blushed, and her immediate reaction was 'no'. Nobody had ever asked her something like that and she hadn't been expecting it. Then she thought that just because nobody had asked her before, it was no reason to say no now. She might even enjoy it.
"Umm, yeah. Okay."
"Great. So I'll see you about six pm on Saturday, by floo?"
"Yeah, sure."
He got up to leave. "I look forward to it."
"Me too." Did she mean that? She didn't have much time to think about it before he was out the door, leaving her feeling both rather nervous and rather flattered. It was certainly going to be an experience for her: she hadn't spent the night away from her parents' house with somebody else since Hogwarts. Although she suspected – and hoped – that this time was going to be rather different to that. She was surprised to find out that actually she was looking forward to it. Although she had no idea how she was going to explain this to her parents.
A/N: Okay, I've come up with the name for the financial district as Fisk Alley. Diagon Alley = diagonally; Knockturn Alley = nocturnally; Fisk Alley = fiscally (ie. relating to money). So what do you think? Is it okay or too contrived?
I don't know if twelve sickles and three knuts is a realistic amount for stock to go up by in three days or not (let's assume he spent fifty galleons? Uh, I'm so bad at this...). Since this is set in the eighties and I don't know the dollar/galleon exchange rate, I'm just going to assume it is. Sorry if it was a bit short, the next chapter will definitely be longer.
