Capítulo 89: Why Kneel?
(This Chapter is dedicated to the literal flood that messed up my schedule)
'Why on earth would any sane, merlin fearing parents ever let their daughter take an enchanted nap in the watery down below?'
Magnus couldn't help but wonder, and somewhat marvel at the sheer casual insanity of the magical world and its people.
With that level of self-preservation, it was all but a miracle that their kind survived this long, especially with so much power at their fingertips.
He'd ask them about it too, though he'd need to keep his revulsion in check; irresponsible fools or not, they were Fleur's parents and alienating them wouldn't serve his purposes.
'But the headmaster's here, and it wouldn't be wise to start badmouthing that bloodsport in front of him.' He thought, especially now that he didn't think he was the second coming of his long lost lover.
Or at least it seemed so.
'Wait, Grindelwald is still alive at this point.' His inner Ravenclaw supplied, 'I should keep this in mind, it wouldn't hurt to pay him a visit once goat fucker is no longer a problem.'
If Dumbledore's morality was flimsy enough to mind probe him again, he would likely die from a heart attack at the sheer diversity of the insults Magnus had for him.
"What do you mean, 'get friendly with merpeople'?" Appoline, she sounded less comfortable in English than Sebastien and Fleur, though the latter had ample practice with him.
Magnus filed this away in his brain, but it wasn't what interested him.
A quick look at Sebastien revealed he wasn't any more aware than his wife, though his expressions were numbed by years in both politics and law enforcement, even if he only ever held administrative duties.
Gabby's face showed naught more than cluelessness and unbearable cuteness, but that might be because she didn't understand a word of what was being said.
'So they don't know what the second task actually entails.' He looked at the semi-constipated face of the headmaster, 'Slimy old fuck, bet he's gonna hide behind the tournament's rules.'
"Monsieur Dumbledore?" Sébastien asked.
"I apologize, but telling you more would be favoring the Beauxbatons champion, and that is against the rules." He said, sounding truly sorry that he couldn't just go and spill the beans for his school's competition.
'Freaking called it.'
"Then you must be the only one who cares about them, the other school head didn't share your sense of fair play." Magnus said, earning himself an amused look from Dumbledore, and a disapproving one from Mr. Delacour.
"Now, Magnus, this isn't a very respectful attitude toward our guests." He said, mirth in his voice.
Sébastien nodded.
"Are you accusing Madame Maxime of cheating?" He said in perfect English, though Magnus perceived a slight american accent.
'He's either worked there, or learned from a US citizen.' He thought, yet another information he added to his increasingly vast mental file on the Delacours. 'Note to self, find about his actions on American soil and research it for usage as future discussion topics.'
Some people would say he was being considerate, or even cute for trying to establish a good rapport with his flower's parents.
Most people would say he was being creepy, they would be right.
But he didn't give a fuck.
"No, accusing her implies I might be wrong." He shook his head, a smile on his face. "I am stating that cheating in the Triwizard tournament is a tradition as old as the competition itself."
The middle aged man stared him down for a few seconds, before smiling and leaning to mock-whisper in his wife's ear.
"Say dear, can we keep him?" He pleaded.
"Non mon coeur, you know it doesn't work like this." She answered, laughter in her voice.
"But dear, he's even got a backbone!" He whined, much to his daughter's amusement.
Magnus didn't have much experience dealing with parents of people he liked, but he had it from good authority that any self respecting father would provide the dreaded shovel talk to any boy reckless enough to get near his daughter.
It's basic darwinian selection, the weak and unfit will flee while the stronger, high quality young men will brave through.
But he wasn't about to complain, if Mr. Delacour wanted to play it cool then so be it.
'Then again, Fleur would likely gut him if he tried to pull something like that.' He thought, and repressed a chuckle.
"Is that all, headmaster?"
Dumbledore smiled in a way that said 'I know something you don't', along with something he couldn't really identify.
It was that glint in the eyes he often sees in the faces of Dobby's acolytes, but he knew the old man was very much not involved in the Cult of D.
"One more thing, Mr. Black." He smiled, pulling something from a drawer.
He handed him a letter, bearing the ministry's academic department seal. Unless he pulled some strings to get Magnus expelled, which was very unlikely, then it could be one thing.
"Let me be the first person to congratulate you on the obtention of your Newts." Dumbledore said, a huge grin on his face. "It just came in this morning, the examiners were very impressed with your performance."
"Thank you," Magnus nodded, opening it on the spot.
Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests (Newts)
Passing grades
. Outstanding (O)
. Exceeds Expectations (E)
. Acceptable (A)
Failing grades
. Poor (P)
. Dreadful (D)
. Troll (T)
Magnus Sirius Black has achieved
Care of Magical Creatures: O
Charms: O
Ancient Runes: O
Arithmancy: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
Potions: E
Transfiguration: O
"Huh, Neat."
He didn't pay much mind to the weird looks the Delacours were shooting at him and the headmaster, not the proud face the latter was making after establishing dominance through the young Ravenclaw.
There was only one thought in his mind.
'Things are gonna get so troublesome once Sirius hears about this.'
His dog father would probably throw a party and invite every single acquaintance of theirs, or smuggle him inside a strip club…or maybe both, yes, it will most likely be both.
'Guess I'll just postpone it as long as possible.'
"I took the liberty to inform your father about your results."
'Fuck me sideways.'
He gritted his teeth, before giving a strained smile to the elderly headmaster.
"Thank you professor."
His ability to put so much poison in otherwise polite sentences was getting better with each encounter with this world weary old goat.
A look at the appraising, but impressed glances the two Delacours were giving him was almost enough to curb his annoyance with Dumbledore…almost.
'Who knew Albus-Sends Kids To Investigate Unicorn Murders-Dumbledore would be such a great wingman?'
"I reckon a certain deputy headmistress would be eager to receive some good news," Dumbledore chuckled, eyes twinkling gloriously "Unless you'd prefer doing some more good for international relations."
It took him three seconds to catch his meaning, and when he did, the wretched light lord almost managed to make him blush.
He was mildly embarrassed by his remark, more so by the amused couple.
The only solace being Gabrielle's cluelessness, she kept looking to the old man to her parents to him without quite daring to look him in the eyes again.
'Freaking adorable.'
Unwilling to be the but of the adults' jokes longer than necessary, he took his leave and braced him for McGonagall's thrilled reaction.
Life was treating him well, too well almost.
His counter to the killing curse was nearly ready, it only required some minor adjustments on the spell matrice and of course…field testing.
And now his Newts results came back, and passed with flying colors!
'Let's hope it stays like this, though I doubt it.'
. . .
"Wand please." The morose voice of the stumbled buffoon in charge of security greeted him once more.
The guard was slouching in front of the magical focus detector, a handy artifact imported from Switzerland; he made sure that some of the newest batches were lost on the way, and found themselves installed in his manor.
How a man with little to no skills with a wand was supposed to stop any remotely powerful intruder, which anyone foolhardy enough to attack the ministry ought to be, was beyond Lucius' wits.
The man was incompetent, had little to no work ethics and only earned this ridiculously high paying position thanks to the purity of his blood and willingness to polish the right boots.
In short, he was perfect for the job.
Lucius coughed, bringing his ornate cane wand in front of him.
He had no intention to give it up, of course, the mere sight of the silver snake head was enough to straighten the man's posture and put a deceptively warm smile on his face.
"Ah, Lord Malfoy, do excuse me." He waved his wand, and the detector was deactivated. "Have a nice day."
Lucius nodded, regardless of the number of times he heard these two words, the sound of them never failed to bring him joy.
'Lord Malfoy.'
Such a glorious title, befitting of a man of his stature.
His grandfather had secured the name through shrewd deals and a cutthroat policy, his father made it grow in both power and reputation until it rivaled the likes of Bones and Greengrass in powers.
So great were their achievements, that they managed to buy him a bride from the most ancient and noble house of Black.
He couldn't stand Narcissa, but their progeny would've carried blood so pure even the dark lord would acknowledge it.
Even the lordship of house Black would have been Dracos, if not for some unexpected blood traitors acting up.
He walked through the Atrium, heading toward Minister Fudge office to discuss yet another monetary contribution.
This one would go to the minister's house in Malta, or was it the Carribeans? No matter, as long as it gained him support for his next bills.
Sirius Black's release was a blessing in disguise, of course he had been rightly indinged by such a turn of events, but as soon as he vented enough to clear his mind, he saw the possible benefits.
It had set up a precedent, a very dangerous, useful precedent.
One that allowed him to safely lobby for the release of prisoners in Azkaban, something that had been more than taboo in recent years.
The imperious defense had been flimsy, and it took more than half of his house's wealth to maintain his freedom, doing so for someone else would have been even harder.
Now however, Pandora's box has been opened, and he would be a right fool not to use it to his advantage.
'As long as Fudge's greed doesn't bleed me dry.' He sneered at some half-blood filth, 'Retaining control of the dark faction would be much harder without monetary superiority.'
His mark was getting ever brighter, and the call strengthened day by day, but he had no intention to answer to a man bested by a mere babe.
Many shared his opinion, many more thought the same but did not dare voice it.
It stroked the flames of his ambitions, and he could hardly repress it, to do so would be rejecting his own nature.
'Why kneel when it could all be mine?'
…
Author Note:
Word Count: 1889
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