[Note: Read up to Chapter - 148 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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The evening breeze was a touch cool, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the day.
At the gates of Malfoy Manor, two figures—one tall, the other small—materialised out of thin air, accompanied by a soft crackling sound.
"Master, we've arrived!" Henry announced, his voice carrying the excitement of the moment.
Aris nodded with a calm, composed gesture. He released Henry's hand, straightening his robe with an air of confidence.
This time, it was Henry who had brought him here using Apparition.
It wasn't that Aris couldn't Apparate; rather, he hadn't yet visited Malfoy Manor, and Apparition requires a precise, clear mental picture of the destination. Without it, one risks arriving in the wrong place, and that's only in the best-case scenario, because it's not at all uncommon for a wizard to appear disoriented or stuck somewhere if they don't know where they are going.
Despite spending the previous day learning the technique, Aris knew he wasn't ready to navigate this particular journey on his own.
As for the matter of registering him as being able to Apparate with the Ministry of Magic, Henry had already taken care of it without any trouble.
Even if an eleven-year-old's name is on the record, it would only take a bit more effort to fix. However, Aris hadn't considered filing it so soon.
He couldn't shake the feeling that such formalities would restrict his freedom.
"Master, shall we enter directly?" Henry asked, his tone serious as he glanced at the manor gates.
The gates of Malfoy Manor were shut, and there was no one waiting to greet them. It was clear that those inside wanted to make a point—to remind the newcomers of their place.
"Just go in," Aris replied, his expression calm as he surveyed the manor in front of him. He took a steady step forward.
"Master, let me handle this," Henry said, drawing his wand. He was already planning to blast the door open. He knew the gate had been enchanted—no ordinary unlocking spell would do the trick.
As for trying a stronger unlocking spell, Henry figured there was no real need for that...
Aris and Henry were clearly on the same wavelength. However, Aris didn't stop Henry but simply muttered two words with a casual air: "No need."
In the next moment, Aris casually waved his hand forward, and a fierce whirlwind erupted at the centre of the gate. Within seconds, the heavily enchanted door was torn apart and sent flying, reduced to a heap of twisted metal, swept away by the gust.
Watching this unfold, Henry swallowed nervously, struggling to keep his composure. He nearly let out a shout.
"Young... Young Master, isn't that noise a bit... excessive?" he stammered, his face twitching into a nervous smile.
Although he had considered simply blasting the door open, Henry had never imagined it would be obliterated so thoroughly. He'd thought a bit of chaos would have sufficed—perhaps the door could still be used after some minor disarray. But now, it was clear the gate would need to be completely replaced.
Hearing Henry's words, Aris sneered softly. "If they want to embarrass us, they'd better be ready to pay the price. We've been invited to dinner, so shouldn't they learn a thing or two about proper hospitality?"
"Master is absolutely right!" Henry responded, his admiration clear.
Just then, a few figures in black robes, drawn by the noise outside, rushed out from the manor.
"Who dares to break into Malfoy Manor uninvited?!" one of the black-robed wizards shouted, raising his wand as he prepared to strike.
Henry, quick as ever, acted immediately. He cast a petrification charm at the wizard.
Bang!
The spell hit its target with precision, instantly freezing the man in place. He dropped to the ground with a dull thud, completely immobile.
"He's asking for trouble, that one!" One of the other wizards growled, readying themselves for an attack.
Unfazed, Henry calmly retrieved the Malfoy family's invitation and held it up. "Mr. Malfoy invited us to dinner. Is this how you treat your esteemed guests? Or, perhaps... you consider yourselves intruders?"
Having said this, Aris's eyes hardened, his gaze turning cold and stern.
He had told me from the start that I needn't worry about a thing while I was here. But now, if these people were to make things difficult for them, it wouldn't matter if they attacked or even killed them. They simply couldn't be allowed to have it easy!
Who were they to push their luck, to cross a line that should never have been touched?
"Stop!"
At that moment, Lucius Malfoy hurried from the direction of the hall, his face betraying a flicker of unease.
Clearly, he hadn't expected Aris to make such an entrance.
When the black-robed wizards saw Lucius approach, their eyes remained cold, but they reluctantly lowered their wands.
"Mr. Shafiq, what is going on here?" Lucius demanded, his voice tense.
He was momentarily taken aback by the sight of the mangled mass of scrap metal where the gate used to be. But as his gaze shifted toward the shattered remains, understanding dawned on him. He shuddered slightly, and his heart seemed to ache.
Lucius had spent an astronomical sum on that gate, hiring the finest alchemists and dark magic defense experts to imbue it with powerful protections. And now, here it was—reduced to a heap of twisted scrap.
Who in Merlin's name could he turn to for justice now?
What was worse, this was the gate of the Malfoy family—the Malfoys, one of the twenty-eight sacred families. To have it reduced to mere rubble... If word of this got out, the damage to their reputation would be catastrophic.
Lucius's face drained of colour, and his eyes flashed with a mix of anger and disbelief.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Malfoy," Aris said, his tone cool and casual. "I destroyed your gate in ignorance. But don't worry, the Shafiq family is not short on gold. We can discuss the compensation—although, I must say, your associates don't seem very welcoming."
He glanced briefly at the black-robed wizards, then shot Lucius a knowing look.
Lucius's expression remained grim, his eyes locking onto Aris with a steely gaze.
"Mr. Shafiq, this isn't about money," he muttered through clenched teeth, his tone still tinged with disbelief.
"Ten thousand Galleons?" Aris held up a finger casually.
"Are you insulting me?!" Lucius barked, his temper flaring.
How could Aris even think such a low sum was acceptable? The cost of hiring alchemists and dark magic defense experts alone far exceeded that!
"Then... twenty thousand?" Aris extended another finger, his tone light.
"Don't push it!" Lucius's face reddened with frustration. The gate was valuable, but the dignity of the Malfoy family was not something that could be bought for a mere price.
"Thirty thousand?" Aris continued, counting off another finger, his expression unchanged.
"The pride of the Malfoy family cannot be..." Lucius hesitated, his gaze shifting to the black-robed wizards around him. The pride was important, of course, but now Aris had raised the price to a figure that was hard to ignore.
Lucius found himself tempted, despite the principle of it. His gate was indeed valuable, but not absurdly so.
"Forty thousand!" Aris held up a final finger, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
Lucius fell into a heavy silence.
Fifty thousand Galleons wasn't a small sum by any means. For any wizarding family, it would likely take decades to accumulate such wealth. If the Malfoys managed to secure that amount, they could comfortably live for five years without touching a single collectible or luxury item.
His mind raced. Temporarily setting aside the pride of the Malfoy family seemed almost trivial in the face of such a fortune.
Seeing Lucius lost in thought, Aris casually raised another finger. "Fifty thousand?" he said with a smirk.
"Well…!" Lucius became a bit hesitant.
There was no denying it. While the Malfoy family's honour was priceless, the gate—though expensive—paled in comparison to the small fortune Aris was offering. Fifty thousand Galleons was too tempting to pass up.
At this point, the men in black robes around Lucius had stopped pretending to be calm.
As Aris casually counted the money on his fingers, their breaths grew heavier. If they had that kind of money, they wouldn't be resorting to such tactics. Fifty thousand gold Galleons?
Ten years ago, when the pure-blood families were in a better financial position, they could've easily had that kind of wealth in their vaults. But now? Most of that fortune had been frittered away long ago. They hadn't seen that much gold in years.
"Let's talk about this later," Lucius muttered, his face darkening.
Why? Why did these idiots think they could just snatch the fifty thousand Galleons that Shafiq was paying to compensate for the damage to his manor's gate?
Lucius had made up his mind—if these people kept pushing their luck, he wouldn't hesitate to teach them a lesson.
Lucius was determined to make sure everyone knew that the noble Malfoy family wasn't to be trifled with.
His words had the desired effect, silencing the black-robed wizards as they realised there were more pressing matters to attend to.
"Mr. Shafiq, please, come in. Dinner is about to start," Lucius said, a smile creeping onto his face as he bowed slightly and gestured with an air of politeness. Quite the gentleman, indeed.
"Master!" Henry suppressed his laughter, leading the way for Aris with a respectful nod.
"Let's go," Aris replied, his expression as calm as ever, as though tossing fifty thousand Galleons out of his pocket was no big deal.
If Lucius had the opportunity to pocket that money, he'd certainly feel a sting. But... would he?
The group made their way toward the manor's living room, where a grand table had been set with an array of delicious food.
As Aris entered the living room, he immediately sensed several pairs of eyes on him.
"It looks like tonight's going to be quite lively," he thought with a knowing smile, turning to meet their gazes.
The guests were scattered around the dining table, some seated, others standing, each holding a glass of wine, their expressions a mix of curiosity and subtle amusement.
"Of course," Lucius said with a touch of pride, "this is a gathering of pure-blood wizard families. Both the food and drinks are of the highest standard!" He seemed pleased with himself, though, in reality, the house-elves had handled most of the preparation. Lucius had simply given the order.
"Mr. Shafiq, how are you?" A voice called from the front.
The man who spoke had a scar on his face, faint but enough to give his features a rugged, almost menacing edge.
"This is young Avery," Lucius introduced with a slight pause. "One of the twenty-eight sacred families. The family once boasted a glorious history, but..."
"It just...fell, didn't it?" Aris interrupted smoothly, his eyes never leaving Avery.
Aris flashed a grin, effortlessly saying what Lucius was too embarrassed to utter himself.
"Mr. Shafiq, you've got a bit of a sharp tongue, haven't you?"
Junior Avery's face darkened instantly, his already unpleasant features twisting further. "I hope you're still smiling later, Shafiq," he sneered.
"Aris Shafiq!" At that moment, another voice called out from the left side of the room.
"This is Flint..." Lucius began again, clearly making another introduction, though this one was a bit more hesitant. "You might know his son, Marcus, who's currently a Slytherin at Hogwarts. Of course, he's a bit older than you..."
"Ah, yes," Aris cut in, a spark of recognition lighting in his eyes. "I believe he's a Chaser for Slytherin?"
He gave a slight chuckle. "That lad plays rough, doesn't he? Seems like his goal is to break the limbs of every opponent on the pitch. No one's stopping Slytherin from scoring with him on the team!"
Aris' grin widened as he added, "I have to admit, he's got a lot of ideas. Perhaps one day we could face off on the Quidditch field. That could be interesting."
Aris couldn't help but chuckle to himself. 'How about letting him experience what it feels like to be knocked out of the game?' He silently jotted down Marcus Flint's name in his small notebook.
Flint, clearly amused, continued speaking. "I hear Mr. Shafiq is a freshman at Hogwarts? How's it going? Is the academic pressure too much for you? Can you even manage to keep up with those spells?" His tone had shifted, turning almost playful, as if he thought this would get under Aris' skin.
The pure-bloods around them likely had similar thoughts. 'An eleven-year-old, how hard can he be to handle?'
Flint went on, not missing a beat. "I heard you're the same age as Harry Potter, the 'Saviour,' eh? How embarrassing for you, being in the same year as someone like that. Even the heir to the Shafiq family might struggle to stand out next to him, don't you think?" He smirked, obviously expecting a reaction.
Aris' lips curled into a smile, but he kept his composure. The little dig wasn't going to faze him.
"If Mr. Shafiq feels slighted, I daresay you could give Potter a lesson in manners," Flint sneered. "After all, you're a Shafiq, aren't you?"
He paused for a moment, as if the idea had just come to him. "Actually, there's only so much one can learn at Hogwarts. If you're interested, Mr. Shafiq, I could teach you a bit of the darker arts. A bit of the Killing Curse, perhaps? Now, that's powerful magic. Much more thrilling than the levitation spells they've got you working on at school."
"Quite right," another voice chimed in, "we, a pure-blood wizard family, ought to carry ourselves with the dignity that our bloodline deserves."
One after another, the voices rang out, each one mocking and taunting Aris, some even making crude gestures, as if pretending to slit their own throats. It was all an effort to belittle him, to assert their dominance.
The atmosphere was thick with arrogance, the disdain almost palpable.
Everyone in the room knew exactly what this dinner was about. No need for pleasantries or pretenses – they were getting straight to the point. They were making sure Aris understood exactly who they were and, more importantly, who he was in their eyes.
Unfortunately, their plan was doomed from the start.
At that moment, Aris maintained his calm, a smile still playing on his lips, as though he hadn't taken their words to heart in the slightest. In truth, he found their petty attempts at provoking him almost laughable. They were nothing more than clowns, hopping about in front of him.
It was... genuinely annoying.
"Enough!" Henry, unable to tolerate any more, finally snapped.
His face darkened, eyes narrowing into a steely gaze as he turned his attention to the pure-blood families surrounding him.
"I will not allow anyone to speak so rudely to my young master again!" he declared, his voice laced with anger.
With a swift motion, Henry drew his wand, pointing it firmly at every one of them in the room.
"Who do you think you are?" came the mocking sneer of one of the onlookers, a man by the name of Werger. "A dog of the Shafiq family thinks it can bark here?"
"If you've got no place to stand, perhaps you should just crawl on the floor and lick your master's shoes!"
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Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 148 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]