章 1104: A Poignant Chat Ⅱ

A loud, suppressed snort escapes from the mouth of Melion whose large eyes abruptly turn a solemn gray. His mouth snaps shut as he glances down at the carpeted floor pretending to mind his own business. Lewis sends a warning look at the metamorphmagus to remain silent.

Wisely changing the subject, Lewis says, "There is another matter to consider," he paused to draw attention to his following words. "There are rather strange rumors coming out of Hogwarts. Rumor has it a powerful albino serpent appeared at Hogsmeade."

"Nuthing but children fairy tales," Jones spat out a cloud of smoke in a disgruntled fashion. "Folks will bloody see anything in fear or mayhem."

"Tis no lie at least," Fenny retorted with a thoughtful expression. "Before m' grandmama ran off with grandad and was disinherited, she belonged to the Relec's. Grandmama used to tell us frightful tales that m' ma and dad very much disapproved of, but that we all dearly loved to hear being bloodthirsty liddle buggers and all."

A wistful, cheeky grin flashes across Fenny's rugged, freckled face. "Any who in one of Grandmama's tales, she spoke of Hogwarts long ago in the Founder's time. Of a time when Hogwarts was newly built and defenseless. Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw journey together to find a powerful beast to guard and protect Hogwarts and the surrounding lands."

"Piffle," Jones grumbled under his breath revealing a yellow-stained snarl.

"Ain't no lie, Jone!" Fenny snapped. "M' grandmama was well read and the records of the Relec's are among some of the oldest in the isle. Her blood may be many things, but we ain't liars!"

Lewis sensing a fight about to erupt between the two proud, stubborn heads intervenes. "Quiet, Jones," he snapped. "Now go on with your tale, Fenny. The sooner it is done, the sooner we can leave!"

Fenny frowns as Jones returns to puffing like a chimney pipe. "The tale said Godric and Rowena returned with a great winged lion, but that Salazar Slytherin distrusted the beast as a fool and therefore incapable of properly protecting Hogwarts. The tale did not recount more about the founders except that the creature guarded Hogwarts for a time. The final end to the tale is that shortly after the death of the final founder, Helga Hufflepuff, the beast mysteriously vanished rumored to have been mysteriously slain."

"A magical guardian then," Sanderson solemnly concluded out loud causing them to gaze at him. "It is not uncommon or unheard." Indeed, it was not if one recalled the Sphinx's guarding the Egyptian pyramids.

"If so, then the Board of Hogwarts must have been informed," Fenny muttered. "We don't much speak to Grandmama's side, but Grandmama's brother serves on the Hogwarts Board. Great-Uncle Philip Relec will speak to me, he owes the family a favor."

"Go then," Sanderson said in a final tone of voice.

"Right," Fenny muttered under her breath, before slipping away.

Jones and Lewis along with Melion rise to leave but Sanderson's yellowish wolf eyes gaze coldly at them. "There will not be a second chance, Jones. I do not tolerate liabilities."

A cold shiver races down Jone's spine at the final warning. He was to pull his son in line, or his son would be permanently for him preferably six feet below ground. "Understood," Jones huffed, before stiffly marching away.

"And Lewis, the services of Melion have been most invaluable, I may call upon his services again," Sanderson said in such a manner that it was not a question but rather a statement.

Not responding Lewis merely tilts his head in acknowledgment of the demand, before turning on his heels. Melion cannot hurry fast nearly stepping on the back of Lewis's heels. The two wizards rapidly vanish leaving Sanderson thoughtfully behind the closed study door.

Abruptly the flames in the fireplace turn an emerald green. Sanderson immediately draws his wand. He is most certainly not expecting visitors this evening and his fireplace is warded except for invitation. A tall slender wizard with stern imposing features emerges from the fireplace, Reginald Prince

"Prince," Sanderson acknowledged but did not lower his wand sensing the cold, deadly fury emanating from Reginald Prince.

"Sanderson," Reginald callously greeted him without the slightest hint of friendliness.

"Have a seat," Sanderson cordially said gesturing at the nearest seat.

"No need," Reginald flatly declined.

"I sense that you are deeply vexed," Sanderson said slowly sitting back down in his seat, but his wand ready firmly in hand. "But surely, what else did you expect, Prince? Things are bound to go amiss. You knew that when we started."

Wordlessly Reginald fires a spell causing the chair of Sanderson to flip back. Sanderson rolls out erecting a protective shield about himself. Yet he missed the blade that Reginald unsheathed from his side. The enchanted blade with ease pierced through the protective bubble halting mere centimeters from Sanderson's throat.

"This is somewhat drastic, do not you think so, Prince?" Sanderson carefully breathed feeling the blade press into his neck with every breath.

"My grandchildren are unharmed if that is your question, Sanderson," Prince coldly answered. "And I take great satisfaction in saying that is not the reason for which I am here this evening."

"Oh, well then do tell," Sanderson wryly said.

"The Acolytes."

"What of them?"

"Do not act coy, Sanderson!" Reginald slightly raised his voice. "The Acolytes gave information to Riddle!" In his anger, he had misspoken instead of saying the name of Voldemort.

"Oh that," Sanderson innocently shrugged. "Well, they needed information and I am in the business of providing information."

"I should kill you where you stand," Reginald threatened pressing the blade deeper until it began to cut the skin.

Sanderson forced himself not to flinch at feeling the blade cut into his flesh. Any abrupt movement would only serve to deepen the wound. "But you need me, Prince. Who else will provide the information that you so desperately require?"

The blade presses in further warning causing Sanderson to fall silent. There is not a hint of hesitation in Reginald's pitch-black eyes. They are utterly devoid of light, an eerie sight to behold.

Something terrible flashes across Reginald's face as he stepped back pulling the knife away from Sanderson's throat. There is a shallow bleeding cut visible on Sanderson's neck. It bleeds a bit fiercely considering its location.

The flames from the fireplace reflect across the bloodied blade. Reginald gazes at the blade thoughtfully in hand. "Indeed, I should return the favor," he said twirling the blade in the light. "I am certain old enemies would be pleased to learn the whereabouts of Clarice and your broad."

Sanderson's wolfish eyes blaze with fury as he draws his wand only to find, his wand wrenched out of his hand without any verbal spell. "You forget yourself, Sanderson," Reginald said as he neatly caught Sanderson's wand in hand. It is quite an insult to handle another wizard or witch's wand without permission.

"Mm, Red oak, if I am not mistaken?" Reginald murmured studying the rigid, slightly crooked wand of Sanderson. He lightly waved it about. "And dragon heartstring?" The steely dark eyes pause to glance at Sanderson for a reply.

"Yes, that is correct" The answer is somewhat forcefully dragged out of Sanderson.

"Mm, not one of Ollivander's," Reginald said as he turned the wand in the light. He paused at seeing a small, unnoticeable mark at the bottom of the wand handle except for the trained eye.

"Gregorovitch," Reginald said with a strange sense of satisfaction. "Gregorovitch has always been fond of marking his creations as his own. An excellent wandmaker, but not quite the equal match to Ollivander."

Sanderson snorts at the remark but bids his tongue silent. His yellow wolfish eyes slowly scan his surroundings searching for a way out. Yet he tries not to show his disappointment on his face.

Sanderson is many things including a powerful and talented dueler, but there are some things Sanderson is not. One of them is that he is unable to perform wandless magic or wordless magic. They are rare gifts and not every witch or wizard is even born with one of them much less both. And yes, he did most certainly envied Reginald Prince for being in ample possession of both.