— — — — — —
Yup. Tom's chosen target was Sirius Black.
Rich, idle, bursting with energy, and well connected. Even if Sirius had once been branded a disgrace to purebloods, his name had long since been cleared, and many of his old Gryffindor upperclassmen and underclassmen had reconnected with him.
Even though Tom didn't interact with Sirius much, he occasionally heard about him through Harry. The Ministry had even invited Sirius to take part in a few publicity events. Sirius went along at first, then got fed up and declined the rest.
Of course, for all those advantages, Sirius had two fatal flaws.
Absolute loyalty to Dumbledore, and a personality that ran too hot and too fast.
That alone meant he could only ever be a stopgap choice. Once Tom had enough trusted capable people, Sirius would be eased out of real authority.
Not that Sirius would mind. He had no thirst for power. If he found something that genuinely interested him, he would be delighted to shed responsibilities rather than pile them on.
"Sirius, the early stage won't involve much," Tom explained patiently. "The Wizards' Guild is just a platform."
"A platform?" Sirius frowned, clearly not following.
"Yes. A place for exchange, or for trade. If you have a need, you post a task through the guild. Missing materials, products you want to buy, anything like that. You can put up a request or offer a commission and let others handle it."
Sirius hesitated. "That just sounds like a shop, doesn't it? Your headquarters is in Diagon Alley. If you're already here, what can't you buy?"
"The difference is huge." Tom clicked his tongue. "If I wanted dried Devil's Snare, Venomous Tentacula, or Runespoor skin right now, could you get those for me from a Diagon Alley shop?"
Sirius gave an awkward grin. "Well… that'd be tricky."
All three were restricted items. And British wizarding law had a very peculiar loophole. Selling most banned goods was illegal, but buying them was only a crime if you were caught in the act.
So plenty of things could exist in plain sight, yet no legitimate channels existed to actually purchase them.
Sirius leaned in, lowering his voice with excitement. "So you're planning to steal business from those bastards in Knockturn Alley?"
"Please." Tom snorted. "They don't even qualify. What I'm talking about is the most basic level of trade. Later on, the guild will have a library, adult wizard re-education, intelligence gathering, even commissioned contracts from magical governments or castle-based ministries. Can those sewer rats pull off anything like that?"
Sirius stared at him, stunned by the scale of it, then felt his blood start to boil. An independent, multinational organization outside the Ministry's control. It could do far more than the Order of the Phoenix ever had, and it sounded far more thrilling.
He loved thrilling things.
Still, he knew his limits. With obvious reluctance, he said, "That's a massive operation. You're really going to hand it to me? I don't even trust myself to run it properly. Tom, maybe you should rethink this."
Sirius's reaction matched Tom's expectations perfectly. The boy smiled. "That's all down the road. Right now the guild is just getting started. There won't be much to handle. Mostly routine task posting and acceptance, all of which will be handled by clerical staff."
"As for you," Tom continued, "your job is to find people to carry out those tasks, or take them on yourself. You'll also keep in touch with the guild branches in other countries and coordinate joint efforts."
While he spoke, Tom slipped the concept of mercenary work neatly into Sirius's head. Sirius grew more tempted by the second.
He was bored out of his mind these days. Every day was newspapers, tinkering with Muggle electronics at home, or learning new recipes to cook for Harry when he came back on holiday.
He had thought about getting a job. The Ministry had invited him too. But even being an Auror didn't appeal to him. He hated being restrained by rules and chains of command.
Tom's mercenary idea fit him perfectly. Take jobs that interested him. Toss the boring ones to someone else. Maybe even hear a few entertaining stories along the way.
"Tom, I'm in!" Sirius slapped his thigh and made the decision. "You're starting a guild, you'll need money everywhere. You trust me, so I won't let you down. I'll put in thirty thousand Galleons as startup funds. When that runs out, I'll add more."
Tom's eyelid twitched violently.
Sirius was bringing his own money to work for him. Paying to be employed. It was… incredibly thoughtful. Employees like this deserved to multiply.
Tom handed over a list of requirements he had drafted for the guildmaster role. They agreed to meet Thursday at the Guild headquarters in Diagon Alley, and on Saturday they would visit Grindelwald together.
...
Grindelwald was now universally acknowledged as a Dark Lord. His style was far louder and more flamboyant than Voldemort's ever had been, yet his reputation was oddly better. Over three hundred Aurors had been captured, and only a little more than a dozen had actually died.
By wizarding standards, that was astonishingly merciful.
Some of those released had even spoken well of him afterward, which only deepened the Ministry's fear of his talent for influence.
So Sirius was more than a little curious about Grindelwald.
Seeing the eager look on his face, even Tom felt a flicker of concern. What if Grindelwald sweet-talked Sirius away? The look on Dumbledore's face would be priceless.
---
Thursday morning
Winter was slowly retreating from London's streets. The air had warmed a little, though dampness still clung to the city, carrying the smell of mildew everywhere.
The stones of Diagon Alley were slick with moss. It was a workday, and school wasn't out, so the street felt quiet. Only a handful of idle witches and wizards wandered about, browsing shops.
And from time to time, they glanced toward the brand-new building that had risen within the past month, curiosity written all over their faces.
For as long as anyone could remember, the most imposing structure in Diagon Alley had been Gringotts. Sitting at the far end of the street, it was visible from almost anywhere, and people often used it as a reference point to describe other locations.
But that might change now.
Right at the exit from the Leaky Cauldron stood a new three-story building, every bit as grand as Gringotts. Other shops had been forced aside to make room. The land itself had been expanded through magical means.
Aside from a small circle who knew the truth, most people could only speculate, waiting for the day it officially opened so they could explore it themselves.
"Wow."
Today, Tom hadn't just invited Sirius. He had also dragged two old homebodies out of their houses to stretch their legs and get some fresh air.
"This place is enormous," Sirius said.
They stood in the widest hall on the first floor. Sirius looked up. The second and third floors formed a ring rather than full levels. From the ground floor, you could see the ceiling and rows of dozens of rooms on each upper level.
"Still, you need private space," Tom said with a smile. "Unless you want everyone in the hall knowing what task you completed and what treasure you got in return."
Sirius lowered his gaze and tilted his head, puzzled. "Wouldn't that be great?"
Tom went silent.
He really was an idiot. Why talk about discretion and caution with someone like this? If Sirius and James had understood the value of keeping their heads down back then, their lives wouldn't have ended in ruin.
"Better not to flaunt wealth," Nicolas said smoothly, stepping in to ease the moment. "Do you have any idea what the bottom of the magical world is like? People can fight to the death over a single potion or a rare ingredient."
Sirius understood their point, but still muttered stubbornly, "I don't want to serve people like that."
Nicolas shook his head, exasperated by the naïveté. "Thieves, bandits, smugglers. They're despised and hold no status, yes, but you can't truly ignore the bottom layer. Every trade has its own survival skills. Sometimes they can be decisive."
Newt nodded along, lost in memory, his expression soft with nostalgia. "If it weren't for those Portkey dealers back in the day, I never would have almost smuggled myself into every country with a Ministry of Magic. The only downside was that they kept raising prices, said I was too famous."
Tom stared at him.
Who said Hufflepuff couldn't produce Azkaban-worthy talent? Judging by Newt's exploits alone, he could carry the entire Slytherin house's achievements on his back.
.
.
.