Carefully uncorking one of the wine bottles, Sanderson pours himself a glass in a silver chalice. The old, weathered wizard shows quite the nimble dexterity despite his age. His white hair is neatly cut and is dressed rather elegantly in a fine cloak rather than in his usual deceiving wool or cotton blended sweaters. He gracefully handed the poured wine chalice to Potentate Newport, who murmurs his thanks.
"Anyone else?" Sanderson asked as he glanced at the remaining Potentates in the room.
Potentate Forsythe sneered at the offer. "Have you any Firewhiskey?"
Sanderson gestured to the alcohol cabinet and offered to pour a drink. "I'll get it myself," Potentate Forsythe sneered not trusting Sanderson the slightest inch. All it took was a simple slip of the hand and he'd find himself poisoned and dead.
An olive-skinned wizard with a high forehead, raven hair, and sky-colored eyes motions at Sanderson. "I'll have a half-filled chalice, Sanderson," Potentate Lewis, the head of the Welsh isle indicated. The Welsh wizard turned towards a wizard wearing a tilted checkered hat. "And you, Murphy?"
The wizard wearing a tilted checkered hat was pale with slightly flushed skin and a white scruffy beard. "Nah, but I will have some of that fine Firewhiskey that Forsythe is pouring a glass of," Potentate Murphy of Ireland answered. "No offense, Lewis."
"None was taken, Murphy," Potentate Lewis replied with a good-natured shrug, before glancing at a fair-skinned wizard with a 5 o'clock shadow smoking like a chimney. "And you, Jones?'
The (northern) English wizard removed the tobacco pipe from his lips before blowing a circle. "I wouldn't even drink my piss here. There's no telling what might be accidentally slipped," Potentate Jones ominously rasped causing them to all make faces of aversion at the crude mental image.
Potentate Forsythe returns with a glass of whiskey in each hand only pausing to hand the glass over to Potentate. "Well, why have you called upon us, Sanderson? You ain't one of us, traitor."
The room grows chilly as the five other wizards coldly glare at Sanderson, who is innocently sipping his wine. "A fine wine," he replied ignoring the five other Potentates. "Rich in favor, savory, with hints of sweet and sour all in one. Chateau de Foix has always known how to make a good elf-wine."
Setting his silver chalice down on the stand next to him, Sanderson crosses his leg in his seat, before folding his hands and laying them to rest over his knee. "My fellow Potentates, I have summoned you today to ask ye to show a speck of intelligence."
"Wha' iz that supposed to me?" Potentate Forsythe howled. "Are you calling us thick-headed clouts!"
"It is obvious that every single one of your ventures has been hard hit by the Auror's namely the A.P.D." Sanderson arched his brow at them. "A good portion A.P.D. officers are made up of muquibs or former werewolves. They literally can track down anything better than any bloody dog! It's only a matter of time until they truly crack down on the lot of you."
"The Dark Lord has mentioned other ideas," Potentate Newport pointedly interjected. "Now gents, I don't believe in this awful nonsense of blood purity, it's simply bad for business. But the way things are right now, it's not looking too good for the Ministry of Magic with the giants and all."
"Death Eaters, they call themselves," Potentate Forsythe jeered. "As if that would put the fear of the Lord into anyone."
"Dunderheads, the whole lot of them," Potentate Jones firmly agreed fiercely smoking at this pipe like a chimney.
Potentate Murphy adjusted his checkered hat glancing slyly at Sanderson. "Let's be frank, what do you want, Sanderson? You know that we haven't gone and killed you because you went legal, but don't mistake that for weakness. Hurry up and speak clearly and stop wasting all our damn time!"
"Have all of you truly considered the repercussions of the Magical Brain and the Wiz Link?" Sanderson plainly answered.
"What about it?" Potentate Forsythe impatiently snapped.
Before Sanderson had a chance to reply, Potentate Lewis thoughtfully tapped his finger on his thigh and said, "The Magical Brain will enable a network much like the Floo to be established over the whole country. The Wizlink will be this network and the use of artifacts will permit everyone to speak and converse-." The Welch wizard abruptly paused and narrowed his eyes at Sanderson. "The Ministry of Magic will be able to be immediately and discreetly alerted of any crime and in that same breath be summoned."
The rest of the Potentates become silent at the implications as Potentate Lewis continues, "And that is why you became legal Sanderson. It's only a matter of time until one of our men is caught after the Magical Brain and Wiz Link are forged."
"Correct," Sanderson answered omitting the finer details and other reasons for doing so. "And that is why my fellow Potentates, I am humbly requesting reminding the Potentates of the implications. There is plenty of picking for a legal occupation."
"Take Forsythe for example his trade of house elves has plummeted, but if he only invested a bit in educating his stock, he'd make quite the galleon," Sanderson pointed out. "Educated house elves are all the current rage and there is currently a shortage on the market with the high demand. There is a good fortune to be made there."
Potentate Forsythe sneered in revulsion at the suggestion. "House elves have no worth, the pathetic sniveling creatures are useless for anything else. I'd rather cull my entire stock than waste a single knut on them."
Sanderson sips his wine and does not merit a response. The chamber falls silent as each Potentate considers the proposal. The silence is broken by Potentate Newport, "And if we refuse?" He asked causing the air in the room to grow stiff and still.
"I will not raise a single hand against you," Sanderson held up his hand in solemn vow.
The Potentate in the room glances at each other for a moment, before two Potentates rise to their feet. "I ain't falling for your parlor tricks, Sanderson," Potentate Forsythe spat out, before storming out of the room.
"I got nothing but respect for you, Sanderson, but I can't agree to give up on my territory," Potentate Murphy regretfully said. "My men would never allow it," before tipping his checkered hat at the rest of the Potentates and departing from the chamber.
"It's simply business, Sanderson, you understand," Potentate Newport apologized before tipping his silver chalice up in toast and downing the rest of it down, before excusing himself.
The door closes firmly shut after Potentate Newport, when Potentate Jones removes his tobacco pipe from his lips. "So how long until your men kill 'em, Sanderson?"
"Hyde and Floyd have an old grudge to resolve and return to Murphy," Sanderson responded with a wolfish smile. "Their vengeance has been delayed long enough."
"And Forsythe?" Potentate Lewis inquisitively asked. "Although if I hazarded to guess, it would be that sly-eyed second in command of his."
"Makes sense," Potentate Jones murmured, before sticking the tobacco pipe between his yellowed teeth. "Always thought his second in command was far too much of a greedy lot."
Potentate Lewis' sky-blue eyes linger upon Sanderson. "Did you also plan to have us killed, Sanderson?"
"No, the two of you are far more cautious in your dealings," Sanderson honestly admitted. "I would have just handed the information over to the Ministry of Magic and let the dice fall."
"Clever that, not getting your hands dirty," Potentate Lewis murmured, before glancing at the door again. "And what of Newport?"
"Ah, well, Newport would entirely be claimed by Kain Shafiq and Evans Avery," Sanderson innocently shrugged. "The boy, well, young widower I should say became rather ruthless after the death of his French wife." He paused to glance down at his nails once. "And with the Prince trading houses expanding and Kain Shafiq expanding his shipping empire, it was a foregone conclusion, really."
Potentate Jones lets out a loud grunt of disbelief, before shaking his head. "Remind me to never play wizarding chess with ya," he puffed.
Potentate Lewis pensively scratches his chin. "It should be easy enough to become legitimate. My men won't oppose the change. Many of them were already considering leaving with the increase in patrol of the A.P.D. and Auror's. Things weren't able to be moved and we were losing far more than we were earning."
"Same," Potentate Jones grumbled.
"Excellent, I am glad that the two of you were able to see it my way," Sanderson said with a pleased expression. "Now, then my fellow and former Potentates allow me to enlighten you on the methodology of legal businessman."
The two former Potentates Lewis and Jones lean in to listen on how to go about being legal. Oh yes, they would be so legal that even the Ministry of Magic wouldn't be able to find a flaw. However, they were crooks, to begin with, and there is always a loophole to be exploited. And by the end of the night, the two men were enlightened. That and well, Sanderson got exactly what he wanted and was loaned a certain employee with a particularly valuable set of skills.
And so, the finely web is woven.
As the month of March passed by the weather began to grow drier as icy, cruel winds seemed to skin any piece of flesh that was uncovered anytime the students went out onto the frozen Hogwarts grounds. There were slight delays in the post as some of the smaller owls kept being blown off course or were exhausted by the delivery to the point that they had to be nursed by Hagrid.
Still, there was a bit of cheer going about as there were to be two-holiday celebrations mid-month, and far more importantly the next Hogsmeade trip had been announced. Including a small birthday celebration among friends on the 10th for Remus's Birthday. It had been a slightly awkward event as Rowan only stopped by to leave a present before departing. She hadn't wanted the discord between Severus and her to ruin Remus's birthday party.
Remus was always the most solid one among them and it wasn't fair to take the limelight on his special day. He deserved that much and more. And besides Remus's younger brother, Romulus would be born soon in the upcoming month. Undoubtedly Lyall and Hope Lupin would always love their firstborn son, but much of their time would be taken over by looking after a newborn. Remus at least deserved to be the center of attention even if it was just once a year.
With so many ongoings, Rowan wanted to meet up with Aberforth. She had created an opportunity to do so while patrolling Hogsmeade. Upon the announcement of the next trip, Rowan had immediately after spoken to Professor Mortimer requesting that she be assigned to patrol the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. Professor Mortimer had been dubious at her request but had permitted the request and assigned Rowan to Hogsmeade patrol duties, (while Severus had been assigned to remain at Hogwarts).
It was after dinner and the Slytherin common room is filled with 5th & 7th years studying in preparation for their O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s. The first-year snakeling's and younger years play games in their dorms or quietly read in the common, if not chatting quietly with a friend or playing wizarding chess or gobblestones. The younger students are the ever impossibly hungry students that they are periodically sneak down from the dorms raiding the snack table and scurrying away back with their loot. Among them, she spots Jeremy Heskel and Frederick Baddock.
Rowan shakes her head ruefully barely suppressing a smile. Even now, there was a tendril of worry for the two boys considering that Terry was the mentor of Jeremy Heskel, a first-year, and former werewolf. Naturally, Terry had also taken Jermey's friend under his wing, Frederick Heskel. He had done an impressively good job at teaching them to understand the currents of power within politics.
The two first-year boys would regularly be spotted during breakfast sharing a copy of the Daily Prophet. And though disturbing at times, it still was a wonderful outlet for Terry's theories (admittedly mostly gossip) to anyone else that wasn't them. There was only so much chatter that can be taken, before the idea of suffocating someone with a pillow to silence them started to seem like a good idea.
Turning away Rowan spots Rachel Grimond quietly playing gobblestones with her friends at a table in the corner of the common room. The second-year transfer student looked quite different from her appearance at the start of the year. Rachel's hair was neatly brushed and cut around framing her face. Her face had long ago lost the tint of malnourishment and now sported a healthy flush. The second-year girl openly laughed with their friends, (and girls from her dorm). Rachel was utterly unrecognizable, Quyen Crowley really had done a good job as a mentor.
Sensing a gaze, Rowan glanced in the direction of the gaze only to see Quyen Crowley gazing back at her. Rowan's lips twitch slightly in a friendly smile. The two of them had become friends of sorts and not that Rowan would ever admit out loud, but Quyen surprisingly had a twisted sense of humor that Rowan rather enjoyed. Quyen's own lips twitch in a small smile, before returning to chat with Florinda and Flortentia Champlain. Somehow Regulus's two female best friends had at some point during the year become rather good friends with Quyen Crowley.
Frankly, Rowan thought that was a good thing. The two 4th year girls were rather decent and weren't ones to be easily intimidated. In fact, Rowan had seen the two girls give Terry a run for his money. Hortense Sicca and Gertrude Fowl wouldn't know what hit them if they tried to take advantage of the two girls. That and well, Regulus was their good friend…That spoke volumes if nothing else did.
Rowan's gaze is drawn to the figure of Terry and Sylvia curled up on the loveseat together. Terry's floppy light colored hair is elegantly pulled back with a masculine clip. His hazel eyes are soft and full of light as he periodically glances up from his book to peek at Sylvia in relief. Sylvia was still quiet at times, but she had returned to eating and talking again. It had been a relief to all of them really.
Glancing around Rowan noticed that Tiffany and Bethanie were both already gone. She suppressed a grin knowing full well that Sirius and Regulus had planned a romantic picnic in an empty classroom. Not that Regulus could have done it all on his own, but Sirius really had no clue how to create a romantic date. At the end taking pity upon his idiotic older brother, Regulus agreed to help if Sirius brought the food. Although Regulus wrote the menu lest Sirius did something stupid like have an entire meal made up of candy. And yes, Sirius had done that before…
Letting out a tired sigh, Terry puts his book down to peek at Sylvia, whose sleek raven hair is pulled back away from her face. Her bluish gray eyes intently study the astronomy star chart in front of her. Professor Sinistra had hinted that there would be a need to know the star chart for their O.W.L.'s. She wasn't about to fail not now!
Seeing Sylvia otherwise occupied, Terry's eyes naturally settle on Rowan since the rest of their friends were not present. Sensing Terry's gaze on her, she unwillingly glances up from her coursework. "What?" She drily asked.
"Oh, that reminds me," Terry said reaching into his book bag and pulling out an invitation. "Here," he held out the invitation for Rowan to take. "As I said before Cousin Koris (Feviel) is finally reopening the former location of the Leaky Cauldron. Since the Hermetic Cauldron's Grand opening is during the school year, naturally we can't attend, but I wonder if you would be so gracious as to send an invite to your grandfather to attend in your stead. His presence alone would do wonders for the grand opening of my cousin's place."
Rowan narrowed her eyes at Terry into slits. "I expect a proper invite during the summer holidays and an entire month of free meals. I won't be bought so cheaply," she countered.
"Three free meals of your choosing with a proper invite of course."
"12."
"5."
"7."
"You have got yourself a deal, Rowan," Terry triumphantly agreed as his glistening teeth glinted rather shark-like.
"Tch," Rowan clicked her tongue, before grabbing the invite and shoving it into her bookbag. She would later summon Dawn and have her directly deliver the letter to her grandfather with such a short turnabout. That and well, Tadbey was still angry after the last time. That being said, she had never promised her grandfather would attend only that she would make an attempt. Although the same could be said about Terry, they never did specify the details. Slytherins….
The two of them return to their homework when loud stomps can be heard. Rowan and Terry aren't the only ones to glance up including the rest of the 5th & 7th years. Severus's onyx-colored eyes blaze with cold rage as he angrily stalks toward them. "Why did you accept to patrol Hogsmeade, Rowan? We both know that you despise going!"
Peeved at being shouted at Rowan's midnight-indigo-colored eyes darken. "I don't see how it is any of your concern, Severus."
Severus clenches his jaw as sparks fly between Rowan and Severus. Terry tactfully remains silent until Sylvia frowns and puts her book down. "Enough, Severus," Sylvia said. "You're the one who is not on speaking terms with Rowan nor is it any of your business either. Rowan has much of a right as you to go down to Hogsmeade and you would do well to remember that."
Severus blinks in surprise at being reprimanded by Sylvia before his face hardens. "So, you're on her side."
"I'm on no one's side," Sylvia defended herself in annoyance. "But just because you and Rowan won't talk to each other nor us about what the two of you are fighting, to begin with, doesn't mean that we don't worry. This is not like either of you two."
Severus doesn't respond stubbornly staring at the ground, before whirling away with dark robes flapping after him. He storms away just as quickly as he came. The younger years whisper, while the 5th & 7th years put the incident out of mind and return to their homework. They had bigger fish to fry.
"Well," Terry drily remarked, "that went well."
Sylvia dramatically rolls her eyes. That was a vast understatement! Vaguely irked, she buries her nose in her textbook again. She didn't want to be disturbed!
Rowan doesn't comment and bends down over her textbook again. Seeing that neither of the two girls wants to talk, Terry sighs and returns to this textbook. Woe is me.
Hmm, the most frequent tactic that I took with my younger sister was to ignore her. To this day, she hates when I purposefully ignore her, it drives her up the walls.
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