"So, you don't care what happens to the men you sell it to so long as you make your money, correct?" Draco pressed, raising his eyebrows expressively. After a moment of consideration, Longbottom shook his head. "Good." Draco declared. "Then, here's what I propose: You give me the names of every man, woman, or child you sell the opium to. Then, you no longer sell them so much as a bloody speck of the stuff, understood?" – "Wait – Why would I -?" – "Any product you make goes directly to me. In return for your business, I will pay you handsomely. Twice the amount you're currently making. Three times, in fact," he added sniffing as he sneered at the oriental rug beneath his leather shoes.