[Note: Read up to Chapter - 149 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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"Why not crawl on the floor and lick your master's shoes?"
The harsh taunt hit Henry like a slap in the face, causing his complexion to turn crimson. His eyes burned with fury as he glared at the pure-blood wizard who dared insult him, his hand gripping his wand so tightly it trembled slightly. The urge to cast a killing curse was overwhelming, but Henry knew better than to act on impulse.
These people were clearly trying to provoke him, testing Aris's true strength in the process.
For the young master's sake, Henry understood this was not the time to lash out.
"Why?" came a voice from across the long table, cutting through the tension.
The voice was sharp, but the man's face was obscured by a large hood, keeping his identity hidden in the shadows.
Henry immediately recognised the voice, a cold and sneering tone that could only belong to Heino Barlot, a member of the influential Barlot family. The Barlots, known for their deep-rooted rivalry with the Barton family, had a long history of bitter business competition, and it was clear they weren't here by accident.
It surprised Henry to see them at the gathering. Unlike some of the other pure-blood families present, who were struggling financially, the Barlots were in no need of a quarrel with the Shafiq family. Yet, here they were, making their presence known.
The reason was obvious. Not only did Heino likely want a piece of the Shafiq family's wealth, but he was also aiming to exploit the situation to weaken the Patton family. This would give the Barlots a stronger hand in their ongoing rivalry.
"The honour of a noble pure-blood family cannot be tarnished," Heino sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "How could a family that's fallen so low—associating with Muggles, even intermarrying with them—be worthy of attending such a prestigious banquet?"
The harsh words landed with a chilling finality, and their sentiment was echoed by several of the pure-blood wizards in attendance. The murmurs intensified, voices growing louder in their shared contempt.
"Indeed," one voice cut through the tension, "the Barton family once held noble blood, but look at them now—willing to degrade themselves just to please their Muggle master. They've tarnished their ancient bloodline!"
Another sneered, "They're probably regretting it now, aren't they? The Shafiq family's left with a mere child, barely out of his nappies, and yet the Barton family is forced to dance around him. It's laughable!"
A third voice chimed in, "Maybe they were planning to rebel all along, but you know how it is—some ancient magic, bound to their bloodline, forces them to still show respect to the Shafiq descendants, despite everything."
"And I'll wager what Shafiq fears most now are people like the Pattons!" Another voice rang out, bitter and mocking.
"It's obvious why Shafiq brought that old servant Henry today," another added with a smirk. "It speaks volumes, doesn't it?"
Everyone around Aris and Henry had smug expressions, as though they were simply watching a spectacle. Their words flowed without hesitation, each one laced with subtle malice, clearly intended to stir up trouble.
Henry's face grew darker with every passing second. The Barton family, once a proud pure-blood lineage, had been forced to intermarry with Muggles to better manage the Shafiq family's vast industry. At the time, there had been some resistance within the family, but in the end, the decision had been made by the majority. This expansion had allowed the Barton family to grow in both size and power, eventually becoming even more influential than most of the pure-blood families present.
And yet, despite the Barton family's considerable standing, these same pure-blood families, who had once refrained from openly challenging them, were now banding together to use this very incident as a means to attack them. Henry's displeasure was palpable, for this wasn't just a personal matter—this was an assault on his family's legacy. How could anyone, in good conscience, feel anything other than fury at such a turn of events?
Although Henry was confident that Aris wouldn't be taken in by their words, his gaze still drifted towards the boy.
Aris remained silent, not sparing Henry a glance. Instead, his attention was fixed on the spectacle unfolding before him—his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched these so-called "pure-blood" wizards perform, almost as if they were actors in a theatrical production. Their exaggerated expressions only made him want to laugh.
What a magnificent performance! It would be rather rude not to pay them their due for such an entertaining show.
"...." Henry's voice broke through his thoughts, tinged with a note of unease.
Aris, still smiling, raised a hand and gently shook his head, signalling for Henry to remain silent.
Henry, understanding without a word, fell quiet.
"Well, if you've got more to say, feel free!" Aris's voice cut through the stillness, his words laced with a half-smile.
The pure-blood wizards, who had halted their little tirade, bristled slightly at his unbothered tone, their brows furrowing.
It was like landing a punch on a pile of cotton—an oddly frustrating sensation gnawed at him. What was going on here? They'd all been working so hard to stir the pot between Aris and the others, but why wasn't he reacting? Shouldn't the boy be starting to doubt his allies, or at least engage in some kind of dispute? Or was it just that their efforts weren't powerful enough?
"How about we focus on business first?"
At that moment, Lucius cleared his throat lightly, cutting through the strange tension in the room.
Until now, Lucius had remained largely silent, only introducing a few individuals to Aris. He'd been watching, letting the pure-blood wizards entertain themselves with their petty theatrics.
Lucius had picked up some information from Draco and was already aware that Aris was no ordinary boy. From what he knew of Aris's performance at Hogwarts, it was clear that the lad was far from the weakling the others had assumed. Judging by his composure, Aris had the potential and talent of a promising young wizard.
If the lad were a bit older, Lucius probably wouldn't dare entertain the idea of going up against Aris, let alone try to seize the wealth of the Shafiq family, as he's doing now.
Lucius was well aware that he shouldn't push Aris too far. If the boy decided to turn on them, with no regard for the consequences, things could get seriously complicated.
He also knew that the other members of the Barton family were likely lurking in the shadows, waiting to step in at the critical moment to back Aris up.
The entire wizarding world was aware of the crucial role the Barton family had played in the Shafiq family's current position. A family so loyal would never waver in their support of Aris just because of a few provoked words from others.
At least, most people wouldn't.
Lucius was equally certain that Aris wasn't foolish. He would no doubt see right through these amateurish attempts to stir him up.
"Let's talk business?" Aris asked with a smile, his tone laced with subtle amusement.
"Aren't we talking business now?" Heino Barlot sneered, his tone mocking. "Stop being so mysterious. You're just a little brat. Do you think you can just waltz in and out of this manor at your leisure?"
He shifted his gaze to Henry with a smug grin.
"Old Henry, look at your master. He hasn't even bothered to stand up for you. Perhaps... you should try kneeling and begging him to seek justice for you?"
"Heh~" Aris's smile faded, his face cooling as a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. In a heartbeat, he sprang to his feet.
Without warning, he extended his hand and grabbed Heino Barlot by the collar, his voice turning cold. "My subordinates don't need you to show them how it's done."
As the words left his lips, everyone watched in stunned silence as Heino's face twisted with shock. In the blink of an eye, a strange force gripped him, pulling him off the ground, his body suspended in mid-air as though held by an invisible hand.
"Don't you enjoy sowing discord and making sarcastic remarks?" Aris's voice was icy, his gaze sharp and unyielding. His hand, still outstretched, slowly tightened as if he were grasping the very air around him.
"From now on, don't say another word!"
Heino's face grew paler by the second as the air around him seemed to thicken, suffocating him.
"You insulted the Shafiq family's direct vassals, provoked our relations, and humiliated Uncle Henry in front of me," Aris continued, his tone dripping with disdain. "You've already sealed your fate."
With that, Aris's hand clenched into a fist.
Heino Barlot's pupils widened in terror, and the invisible force bearing down on him was now accompanied by an unshakable, overwhelming will. In an instant, he was flung across the room like a ragdoll, crashing into the living room wall with a sickening thud.
The room fell utterly silent.
A few of the onlookers seemed ready to intervene, but upon seeing Henry's seething gaze and his hand gripping his wand tightly, they instinctively hesitated. They knew better than to make themselves a target for Aris's wrath.
There was one exception.
Junior Avery, a born Death Eater, was known for his volatile and irritable nature. At that moment, seeing Aris suddenly take action, Avery instinctively drew his wand without a second thought, casting the Killing Curse with a sneer.
"Avada Kedavra!!!"
His spell was swift, catching everyone off guard, including Henry. The green light shot towards Aris with blinding speed.
For a brief moment, Lucius Malfoy's mind flashed with panic. It's over.
He could already picture the chaos unfolding. He began to slowly step back, mentally preparing to make a quick exit if things escalated into a full-blown fight.
However, the expected sight of Aris collapsing in agony never came.
Since Aris had acted first, he had certainly anticipated the reactions of others.
He was well-prepared. With the help of Wind Magic, he barely moved a muscle, yet his figure seemed to vanish, as if he had teleported. The green light whizzed past, only hitting the boy's afterimage.
Before anyone could process what had just happened, a silver-grey wand with a faint black aura was pressed firmly against Junior Avery's neck.
"A very good display of the killing curse, but it's no use if you miss the target," Aris said, his voice icy.
A faint red light flickered at the tip of his wand.
Without another word, Aris casually walked past Junior Avery. Behind him, a cold, lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
The sudden turn of events sent shockwaves through the room, causing all the pure-blood wizards to recoil in fear. None of them had expected a mere boy to act with such ruthless decisiveness.
In the blink of an eye, he had taken two lives without uttering a word.
They had initially intended to intimidate the boy, hoping to gain an upper hand in the negotiations to come. While some of these pure-blood wizards had once been Death Eaters, most of the truly vile ones had long since been locked away in Azkaban. Those still around were little more than spineless opportunists.
They might bully others, leveraging their power, but when it came to actually taking a life, their hands would probably tremble more than anyone else's.
Moreover, some of them were still on the Ministry of Magic's watchlist. If they crossed the line here, they wouldn't just be in trouble—they'd be hunted down, perhaps even locked up in Azkaban. The idea of being at the mercy of the Dementors was enough to make them quiver in fear.
As Aris' gaze swept over the room, an unsettling silence descended. The confrontation Lucius had braced for never came. In fact, it seemed even he hadn't anticipated that these so-called noble wizards would falter at such a critical moment.
Aris broke the silence with a chilling question, "Do you really think you're so noble?"
Aris surveyed the gathered pure-blood wizards, a sneer of disdain curling his lips.
"True strength," he said coldly, "is not about relying on your family name to flaunt your superiority. It's about using your own power to silence those who dare oppose you. To me, you're nothing more than a bunch of clowns."
He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in before continuing with a wicked grin, "In fact, if it weren't for the spectacle you're putting on, I wouldn't have bothered coming here today."
With that, Aris gracefully returned to his seat, placing his wand on the table with an almost casual air.
The reaction was immediate. A stunned silence fell over the room. The boy's calm, collected demeanor was beyond anything they had imagined. He carried himself with a confidence that was far more intimidating than any show of power.
For reasons they couldn't quite explain, when they looked at Aris, they couldn't help but think of another figure entirely—someone whose very name struck terror into the hearts of witches and wizards alike.
A man so feared that even the mere mention of him caused chills to run down their spines, making their bodies tremble involuntarily.
That man was Voldemort.
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Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 149 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]