"Glastonbury and its surroundings will have increased security for the time being, with Aurors stationed regularly. Unless it's absolutely necessary, it's best to steer clear."
Those were Scrimgeour's final words.
He and his team of Aurors left after a brief questioning, handing things over to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, who were far better equipped to handle the cleanup.
As for the attacker who'd been knocked out against the wall, they left no trace of themselves—no tissue, nothing. The Aurors scoured the area and found only a single blackened piece of armor.
Still, they treated it like a treasure, carefully preserving it with magic to take back to the Ministry for analysis.
Florean Fortescue, after exchanging a few pleasantries with the Bedivere family, Apparated away.
He kept joking about his "brush with death," but he looked rattled, and Edward wasn't sure if he'd still have the heart to chase ice cream inspiration in Northern Ireland.
"The Black Knights—what are they?" Edward asked curiously once they were back at Bedivere Manor.
He'd never come across the name in any book or record, not even in the Bedivere family history.
From what Scrimgeour said, the Black Knights were behind the battle that had ravaged Glastonbury all those years ago.
So why had no one ever mentioned them?
His parents' reactions when the name came up made it clear they knew something, but neither Scrimgeour, William, Anri, nor even Florean wanted to talk about it.
It was as if the Black Knights were something even scarier than Voldemort.
"I'll tell you what I know, Edward, but you have to promise me you won't go back to Glastonbury Abbey or dig into anything related to them. Okay?" William said, his face unusually grave.
Edward had never seen his usually carefree, slightly scatterbrained father look so serious. He nodded solemnly.
He had a gut feeling that what William was about to say—about the Black Knights, the attack on him, and Florean's accidental involvement—was tied to his surname and Glastonbury itself.
William poured himself a glass of red wine and downed it in one go.
"You already know Glastonbury Abbey is where King Arthur's tomb lies. Sir Bedivere, after burying the king, stayed there as a monk, guarding the place."
"But there were others—knights—who believed Arthur betrayed them. They thought he'd gone off to Avalon, finding peace and eternal happiness, while leaving his people and knights to suffer in the mortal world."
"They became obsessed with finding the entrance to Avalon, desperate to reach that paradise themselves."
"So, they turned their attention to the king's tomb, convinced it was the gateway to Avalon."
William paused, then continued.
"They failed in the end. Our Bedivere ancestors thwarted their plans, but those knights never gave up their quest for Avalon."
"In the fire that burned down the abbey, their once-silver armor was stained black with soot, making them look like demons crawling out of hell."
"'Black Knights' isn't what they called themselves—it's a name given to them by the survivors of that battle. Ever since, whenever wizards in black armor show up, disaster follows."
"Disaster? Dad, you mean they've done more than just destroy the abbey?" Edward latched onto the key point.
"There's no solid proof, and they've never claimed responsibility, but their shadow looms behind some of the biggest upheavals in the wizarding—and even Muggle—world," William said heavily.
"The witch hunts of the Middle Ages, the goblin rebellions that dragged on for nearly a century, Grindelwald's first wizarding war, even the rise of You-Know-Who—there's suspicion the Black Knights were involved," Anri added, refilling William's glass.
"But what do those things have to do with Avalon? Weren't they just after its entrance?" Edward asked, finding the connections almost too wild to believe.
They didn't seem related at all.
"Who knows? The events might seem disconnected, but their presence has been felt in all of them," William explained. "The Auror Office used to handle their cases, but now it's all under the Department of Mysteries—top secret."
"As descendants of the Round Table knights, we're directly tied to them, so we have some right to know."
William downed his second glass of wine and looked intently into Edward's eyes.
Edward could swear he saw tears glistening in his father's gaze.
"Since You-Know-Who fell, they'd been quiet for years. Honestly, I'd hoped I'd never have to tell you about them, but…" William's voice broke. "Son, I'm so sorry. I'm a terrible father for letting you face this kind of danger. If you weren't a Bedivere…"
"You're only eleven! I can't even imagine what might've happened today if Florean hadn't accidentally been there!" William buried his face in his hands, unable to meet Edward's eyes.
The fire crackled quietly in the hall. Anri stood beside William, gently rubbing his hunched back.
Guilt hung heavy in the air.
But Edward didn't resent his parents one bit.
"Dad, don't say that. I'm proud to be your son," he said with a bright smile, his words full of sincerity.
He knew this was their deepest love for him.
No parent wants their child in danger, no matter how old they are or how skilled they are at magic.
Edward bet even Dumbledore's parents wouldn't have wanted him confronting You-Know-Who or Grindelwald.
Not that they were probably still around.
"I know you've always been a good kid, Edward, but this is different. You didn't get to choose not to be our son, did you?" William said with a bitter smile, though Edward's words clearly comforted him.
Anri, usually so spirited, stayed silent, simply standing by her husband's side.
The guilt didn't linger long. A problem had surfaced, and they needed the courage, confidence, and a plan to face it.
The Ministry had beefed up security around Bedivere Manor and Glastonbury, calling it protection, but Edward couldn't shake the feeling they were also being watched.
It made sense, though. The Ministry hadn't caught anyone, didn't know where the armor came from, and had no clue why the Black Knights targeted Glastonbury Abbey.
Florean wrote to Edward twice after returning to Diagon Alley, complaining about the two intimidating Aurors posted outside his ice cream shop, scaring off customers.
Edward figured it was just because no one wanted ice cream in winter.
In his letters, Florean also mentioned he'd perfected a new ice cream flavor and invited Edward to try it—for free, of course.
To keep their son safe for the rest of the holidays, William and Anri barely let Edward out of their sight. The manor was layered with protective spells, and Edward had to watch his step while jogging to avoid triggering one of his mother's nasty curses.
He stayed home until the Christmas break ended.
The day to return to school was finally approaching.
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