Chapter 16: Chapter 16: Gold and Galleons
"Gargamel" was the name Dudley had chosen for himself. His impression of the character was that he rarely cast spells, focusing instead on constantly brewing potions. Dudley felt a certain kinship with that. He just happened to have a thick, lush head of hair and a physique that could easily take down twenty scrawny men at once.
One might think this grimy den was a gathering place for wizards, but that wasn't the case. Dudley couldn't get into those kinds of places. This was a meeting place for Squibs.
Life in the wizarding world was not kind to Squibs. Unable to perform magic, they were barred from most magical professions, leaving them with no reliable source of income. Not every Squib was lucky enough to land a job like Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts. Without family support, they were forced to find other ways to survive, straddling the line between the magical and Muggle worlds. They were the lowest stratum of wizarding society.
As a result, they were often the only point of contact for Muggles trying to access the magical world. The self-important pure-bloods would never deign to look at a Muggle.
The attendant leading Dudley was the best-dressed of the lot, and even his clothes were greasy and stained. Most Squibs refused to use Muggle cleaning products, yet they couldn't perform a simple Scouring Charm. The result was a pervasive slovenliness. They couldn't afford to live in places like Hogsmeade, so they were relegated to Muggle-built houses. As Dudley passed an open doorway, he vaguely heard a few hushed words from inside: "...magic... crash course..."
With a fawning expression, the attendant led Dudley into the deepest room of the house, their agreed-upon trading location. Dudley was their biggest customer, so they treated him with the utmost care.
Inside the room, several other Squibs were already waiting. They all stood as Dudley entered, their faces plastered with obsequious smiles.
"Where's the merchandise?" Dudley got straight to the point, his voice sharp. The smell in the room was truly awful, and he didn't want to stay a moment longer than necessary.
"Respected Mr. Gargamel, this is what you requested," a slightly cleaner-looking Squib said, handing Dudley a small satchel.
Dudley took the bag and opened it. It had clearly been enchanted with a basic Undetectable Extension Charm; the space inside was larger than it appeared, though not by much. Inside, neatly arranged in glass bottles, were Bouncing Bulbs, Gillyweed, Dittany, and other common magical ingredients. There were also several magic books tucked in the side.
This will be enough to keep me busy for a while, he thought. The quality of the ingredients wasn't top-tier, but given his situation, it was more than acceptable.
"The items are correct," he said, "but next time, I hope you can acquire some rarer materials. Ashwinder eggs, Leaping Toadstool caps, troll bogeys, Fluxweed, powdered bicorn horn, shredded Boomslang skin..."
"The things you mentioned are not easy to come by," the Squib said cautiously. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. "But if the price is right, anything is possible. Since you're satisfied with this delivery, how about..." He knew that many of the materials Dudley wanted were controlled substances, difficult for even licensed wizards to obtain, let alone a group of down-on-their-luck Squibs.
Dudley also wanted powdered unicorn horn, but that was contraband among contraband.
"As long as you can get it for me," Dudley said, his voice firm, "money is not an issue." He placed a small, heavy bag on the table and tipped its contents out.
A collective gasp went through the room. The Squibs' eyes widened, their gazes fixed on the glittering pile, their faces filled with undisguised greed. Under the dim, flickering candlelight, a dazzling expanse of gold blinded them.
Dudley couldn't use pounds for these transactions; they only accepted gold. While not a perfect substitute, gold was a recognized currency in the wizarding world. It was, after all, a primary component of Galleons.
Gringotts offered a service to exchange Muggle money, but the rate was abysmal and the annual limit was capped. One couldn't simply exploit the price difference; the goblins were far too shrewd for that. Even exchanging this bag of raw gold at Gringotts would yield a pitiful amount of Galleons. Galleons were gold, but gold was not Galleons. They required a special forging process and numbering by the goblins to be considered legal tender.
The Squibs were just the middlemen, earning a pittance for their trouble. The real profit was made by the goblins. It was astonishing, Dudley thought, that the wizards entrusted their entire economy to a race they had conquered.
"A pleasure doing business with you," Dudley said, a genuine smile on his face. He'd gotten a free Undetectable Extension Charm bag out of the deal. He carefully tucked the satchel of ingredients away, not even glancing at the gold on the table. Right now, he wasn't short on money, only on potions ingredients. He'd also discovered that with enough precision, his potions were nearly as effective as those brewed by ordinary wizards.
"A pleasure doing business," the Squibs echoed, their own moods lifted by the sight of the gold. They wouldn't dare try to rob him; the ingredients were useless to them, and a generous client like "Mr. Gargamel" was a rare find. Besides, how would they even attempt it? With their fists? One look at Dudley's unusually sturdy physique was enough to extinguish any such thoughts.
Dudley left the alley and was soon back in the waiting car. The driver took him to a small property he had recently purchased, a safe house specifically for storing his potions and materials. He still had some time before noon. He needed to put everything away before heading home. He couldn't let his family, who so disliked magic, see any of this.
At least, not yet.
***
(End of Chapter)
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