Since Cassius Grimm moved in, 12 had undergone a slight transformation. No, it was still an old mansion that had belonged to a dark family for centuries, but the walls had become a little lighter, and the aura of suffocating fear and decay had disappeared. Now the manor resembled a classic nineteenth-century English mansion, with wood panelling, silk wallpaper and high ceilings. The arched windows were no longer covered with cobwebs as before, and the house was filled with the fresh air of luxury and nobility.
In the dim light of the corridor, Cassius was greeted by a cheerful Kreacher. Since the new lord had dealt with the rebellious altar, the house elf had grown a little younger.
"The master has decided to restore the old traditions!" the evil house elf muttered happily under his breath. "At last, the altar of the dark family will be washed with hot blood."
Kreacher hurried ahead of Black, opening doors on the way to the mansion's dungeon.
Cassius descended into the dungeon, where the captured Aurors sat in cages. The magicians were unconscious, and Black could calmly examine those he had captured. Levitating the wizard, who immediately seemed familiar, into the next room, Cassius placed him on a chair, secured him with shackles, and brought him to his senses.
"Good morning," Black smiled.
The auror woke up and rolled his eyes.
"How did I get here?" the wizard muttered, still not fully awake.
"I bought you and all the others in Lutno," Cassius shrugged, "on a whim. My teacher once said that he had distant relatives in England, some of his servants, and that he was watching over their fate," Cassius sighed. "And here I find one of them in the cages of Lutno, in an unenviable state. How did you fall into the hands of the slave traders, Mr. Brustver?"
Kingsley nervously ran his hand over his face, gathering his strength. The auror's story was banal. The DMP had been working on a case involving the smuggling of prohibited ingredients since last year. They were conducting another raid in Lutny, but they got caught and miscalculated their strength. As a result, several people were killed on both sides, and part of the squad was captured and immediately sold to traders.
Cassius scratched the back of his head thoughtfully and looked into the auror's eyes.
"I don't even know what to do in our case. After all, there may be your friends or acquaintances among the captured mages. I need seven wizards for a family ritual, which is why I went to Lyutny.
"Yes, many of them are my friends," Brustver said anxiously. "Please don't sacrifice them on the altar.
"Kingsley," Cassius looked at him seriously. "Chibuzo Inu asked me to keep you out of trouble if possible, not to save the entire Aurorate. I don't care about the others, I need to finish the ritual.
Kingsley thought for a moment, trying to find a way out:
"If I find you seven mages to sacrifice," he blurted out, "will you let us go?
Cassius shrugged indifferently:
"I'll release you anyway, but you must take a solemn vow, and I'll Obliviate the others about the recent events, but I still need seven white wizards by tomorrow evening at the latest.
Brustver finally flashed a smile:
"We'll find them, respected wizard. We have so much scum from Lutny in our cells that no one will notice ten scoundrels missing. We'll exchange them one for one so you don't have any extra expenses. And if you need more victims, I'll be happy to help... For the right price," the black Auror said, looking slyly at the wizard.
"It's a deal." The guy threw off Kingsley's shackles and held out his hand. "Cassius Black, nice to meet you."
After giving the black man a stack of disposable portals to transport the victims and erasing the captured Aurors' memories of the last few days, Black Transfused the unlucky mages into an alley behind The Leaky Cauldron.
Kingsley stayed behind to revive his colleagues, while Cassius headed to the Ministry of Magic.
There, he was met with disappointment, as Cornelius Fudge was visiting France. In the corridor, Black noticed a woman in a pink dress hurrying somewhere, whom he immediately recognised as the short, flirtatious lady who had applauded him enthusiastically in Wizengamot.
"Hello, ma'am," Cassius bowed politely. "How are you?"
"Oh, Mr Black," Dolores Umbridge smiled. "Work, chores, not a moment's peace. With all the preparations for the tournament, we can't even sit down.
"I know," Cassius sighed sadly, "I wanted to meet with Minister Fudge, but his secretary said he was in France.
"What did you want from our minister?" Ambridge's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Um. I was planning to inquire about a contract for construction work for the stages of the Triwizard Tournament. The thing is, the Black family has construction wizards and transport companies that are just right for such work. My people were also involved in the construction of the stadium for the Quidditch World Cup and did a good job.
"True, I only found out about that yesterday from the goblins," Cassius thought to himself with displeasure.
"Wow," Dolores frowned, "but you do realise that there will most likely be an open tender?
"Of course, Madam Deputy Minister, but is it worth wasting time on a tender, in case an untested firm wins and then misses the deadline or messes something up? Wouldn't it be better to use the services of a reliable company with a proven track record on large orders?
"Let's go to Mr Black's office. The issue you raised is right up my alley," Ambridge said with a shark-like grin. "The minister has entrusted me with the technical side of things, and I'm already sorting things out with the contractors.
An hour later, after leaving the ministry, Cassius just shook his head. If you have deep pockets and the issue isn't related to black magic, officials are willing to meet with you in any circumstances. His companies were given the go-ahead to prepare the grounds and stands at Hogwarts, deliver dragons from Romania, and carry out other work to ensure the comfort of the tournament spectators. Now Cassius had every right to appear on the grounds of the school of witchcraft and wizardry.
***
A small, white house in the suburbs of London, identical to all the others on the street. Ordinary Muggle neighbours. Nothing remarkable, from a wizard's point of view. None of them could have guessed that this was where retired Auror Alastor Moody lived out his retirement. The window on the second floor carried the smells of the cooling road and rubbish bins overturned by dogs to the man sleeping on the bed. A small table lamp illuminated the crippled man tossing and turning restlessly on the bed. A slight, almost imperceptible noise in the basement caused the sleeping man's disfigured face to suddenly frown.
Alastor woke up in the middle of the night with a sense of danger. The small house where the former Auror, who had been sent into retirement with a scandal after the Black affair, lived was uncomfortable and dirty. Moody didn't care about cleanliness and order in the house, and he didn't try to find a woman. To let someone get close to him would mean becoming vulnerable, and the paranoid man did not want that.
"Now there are rats in the house," Alastor said angrily, noticing the movement of a grey shadow on the ground floor with his remaining eye. "Are you going to get a wife?" Groaning and cursing, he put the magic eye on his head, picked up his trusty cane, and cautiously moved downstairs, his prosthetic foot clicking on the floor. The wizard had barely descended a couple of steps when they instantly merged into a smooth surface, and the old auror, unable to keep his balance on the board enchanted with "glacis," tumbled head over heels. On the way down, his eyes spun wildly and his mouth spewed curses and obscenities, but the last thing he noticed as he tried to gather himself on the floor at the foot of the stairs was a blue flash that sent him into unconsciousness.
Kicking Moody's stick away with his foot, Pettigrew, sweating with fear, began to carefully remove all the protective barriers put up by the old paranoid man. There was even protection against mermaids on the house. "Mordred. That cripple has completely lost his mind. He should have thought about protection from rats," Peter sneered.
Carefully opening the door, Pettigrew leaned out and waved his hand. Barty Crouch, looking around, rushed inside, tripping over a fallen rubbish bin on the way. The damn tin can clattered so loudly that the noise could probably be heard in Scotland.
"What are you doing, you idiot?" Pettigrew yelled at him. "You'll wake the Aurors' neighbours!"
"Shut up, rat," Crouch waved him away. "It was an accident."
Quickly finding a large trunk, they stripped Moody naked and threw him inside. Barty grimaced and gulped down the Polyjuice potion that Moody had poured into his flask. There was a popping sound outside, and Pettigrew instantly transformed and darted into the Burrow.
"Alastor, are you here?" came an excited girl's voice.
Crouch, in the guise of Moody, limped towards the door, dragging his good leg. He dealt with the neighbours and calmed the stupid young Auror, telling her that nothing had happened, just stray dogs. Finally, Barty returned inside and collapsed helplessly into a chair. The house was quiet; the Mordred rat immediately ran away when it smelled something burning.
The brief conversation with the Auror had exhausted the former Death Eater with its stupidity. This Tonks, a student of Moody's, was worried about her retired mentor and was talking nonsense. "May a werewolf take you!" Barty cursed. With great effort, he got up and limped upstairs to his bedroom.
Sinking onto the creaky bed, the Devourer noticed a letter on the table out of the corner of his eye. Lighting a brighter "lumos," he read the text. Albus Dumbledore invited his old friend to the position of professor at DADA and inquired about his health and mood. "The Seeker is on the hunt!" Crouch grinned, racking his brains for a way to carry out the lord's orders.
***
A working meeting was taking place in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. As always, the devices on the shelves were buzzing, and the phoenix was dozing on a perch. A row of comfortable armchairs stood around the table, where the deans were now seated. They were discussing the imminent arrival of the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang teams. Firstly, it was necessary to prepare stables for the pegasi, where the creatures could rest after their long journey, and secondly, a pier had to be built on the Black Lake so that Durmstrang's ship could moor conveniently directly to it. Of course, the magical ship had a shallow draught, but it couldn't row to shore like a rowing boat.
"A representative of the construction company from the Ministry should be here any minute now," Dumbledore announced cheerfully. "We'll have everything organised before the guests arrive.
The fireplace lit up, and Cassius Black strode majestically out of the green flames. The silence in the office lasted for almost half a minute, during which the teachers stared in amazement at the wizard who had entered.
"Hello, professors, headmaster," Cassius said with a broad smile. "I am a representative of the construction company that will be organising the tournament. I am looking forward to your suggestions for accommodating the guests. I am delighted to visit Hogwarts again, my alma mater, so to speak.
Dumbledore looked stunned, McGonagall shocked. The rest didn't care, and only Flitwick smiled.
"Good afternoon, Cassius," the half-goblin exclaimed cheerfully.
Snape also nodded politely, glancing maliciously at the headmaster and then at McGonagall. He was thoroughly enjoying the awkward situation the wizards had found themselves in.
Cassius walked over to a free chair and sat down, looking at the professors with ostentatious attention.
"Colleagues!" Dumbledore raged, but then managed to calm himself down, bringing his emotions under tight control. "Let's forget about the past misunderstanding and get down to business."
Having decided where and what should be built, the professors, along with Cassius, went to lunch. The Great Hall of Hogwarts, as always, was lit by candles hanging in the air. Approaching the teachers' table, Black chose his seat with great care. Sitting between Flitwick and Snape, Cassius looked around the Great Hall with pleasure, helping himself to food prepared by the house-elves. He did not forget, however, to check everything for unaccounted-for additions.
Dumbledore began his speech about the Triwizard Tournament. The students murmured disappointedly that there would be no Quidditch this year, and someone at the Gryffindor table muttered sadly, "If there's no Quidditch, it's Mordred's tournament."
After lunch, Cassius exchanged satisfied glances with his brother and, accompanied by Filch, went to check the location of the future buildings. They needed to set up cages for the dragons in the Forbidden Forest, build stands and expand the stadium for the upcoming first round.
***
The working day began as usual, but while flying over the reserve on his broomstick, the wizard was stopped by the senior shift patron. Through him, Charlie Weasley contacted the director of the dragon reserve and ordered him to come in.
"Good day, sir," bowed the red-haired wizard, "you called for me?
"Come in, Charlie, take a seat," said the reserve director, Constantin Romanescu, pointing to a comfortable leather armchair opposite him. The boss's fancy office was a testament to the prosperity of Romanian businessmen.
"Your compatriots have requested four dragons for the 'Three Wizards' tournament," he chuckled at his own pun. "Your director is up to something again.
Charlie bowed politely, waiting for him to continue.
"In short, you will accompany the dragons, Dumbledore specifically requested this," Romanescu said seriously. "Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Charlie jumped up.
"You'll find out what kind of dragons the great white one needs in the scroll," the reserve director threw him the parchment. "All right, get to work!"
Charlie immediately left the office, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. After all, besides dragons, there were many useful things to take to England. Things that would be snapped up by dealers in Lutno. And galleons would never hurt the perpetually penniless Weasley. After that unpleasant incident with the Norwegian humpback, which his younger brother Ron had promised to send for resale, Charlie had to pay a long-term penalty to some serious people. After all, he had already spent the entire deposit on some lovely Romanian girls.
"Well, never mind, I'll get rich now," thought the red-haired smuggler happily, rushing off to the post office. He needed to quickly contact all the wizards he needed for the job.
***
The Goblet of Fire was carried into the Great Hall and placed near the teachers' table. Albus Dumbledore approached the cup and solemnly prepared to distribute it, recalling the past months.
At the appointed time, the teams from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton appeared. The Durmstrangers arrived in their traditional manner, on a ghost ship that appeared in the portal and was quickly moored to a pier built by the Black wizards. Beauxbaton arrived in a huge artefact carriage with a magically expanded space that easily accommodated the bedrooms and living rooms of the tournament participants. The winged horses carrying the carriage through the air made an indelible impression on all the students. And when they learned that the pegasi preferred whisky as feed, many senior students asked to take care of them. However, Hagrid, as a professor at UZMS, took on this responsibility, while glancing at Madame Maxim with his greasy eyes.
Among the schools participating in the tournament were two outstanding young wizards. Fleur Delacour, representing France. Poluvela, quite strong in illusions and love magic. And in Durmstrang, one could single out Viktor Krum, the eighteen-year-old Seeker of the Bulgarian Quidditch team. And even though the young man planned to devote his life to sports, the title of Tournament Champion and a thousand galleons attracted him with their apparent accessibility.
Dumbledore saw Cedric Diggory as a likely candidate from Hogwarts. The young "badger" was a strong middle-ranking wizard, and his skills should have been enough to compete with his rivals.
And then came the most interesting moment, which made Albus even smile to himself. When Moody entered the Great Hall with a confident gait, leaning on his staff, Dumbledore was initially delighted. However, after chatting with his old friend for a while and habitually using Legilimency, Albus was surprised to recognise the fake Moody, who was supposed to have died long ago in Azkaban, as Barty Crouch Jr. "Mordred's underpants!" It took all of Dumbledore's willpower to keep a benevolent expression on his face. Albus couldn't figure out how Alastor had been captured and where he was being held with a cursory scan, and he considered it premature to gut Barty.
Anyway, as long as the Devourer needed the appearance of his old friend, he would remain alive. Therefore, pretending to believe him, Dumbledore safely sent Barty back to teach in his cursed position. Nevertheless, the headmaster periodically monitored the Devourer's actions to ensure that he did not do anything unexpected, assigning house elves to spy on him.
Unfortunately, this trick did not work with Mordred Black; the house elves refused to follow the young wizard, arguing that they were terrified of him. But the goldfinch was not yet a hindrance, although Dumbledore would have gladly wrung his neck if he had had the chance, as Black's smug expression was extremely irritating, as if he knew something that the headmaster did not. Even Lucius Malfoy came to mind for some reason, in a small way, but it was annoying...
Tonight, Ljugrum exceeded all of Albus's expectations. First, he loudly clicked his dentures and "sneaked" up to the cup, then cast Confundus on the artefact and dropped a piece of parchment with Potter's name on it into it. So, Voldemort wants to trap Harry at the tournament? Wouldn't it be easier to kidnap the boy with the help of Crouch and take him to his master?
Albus didn't know why he was making things so complicated. And when the Great Light doesn't understand something, things tend to go badly for everyone. They hardly suspected that artefacts tuned to both Potter and Voldemort were working day and night in Albus's office. Although Tom definitely suspects something and is taking countermeasures, otherwise Albus would have determined his location with yard precision, rather than approximately as he did now.
The cup flared up with blue flames, distracting Albus from his thoughts, and looking at the frozen students, he said loudly:
"The champion of Durmstrang is Viktor Krum."
The hall erupted in thunderous applause, not only from the Durmstrang students, but also from Quidditch fans from other schools. Snatching another piece of parchment from the air, shot out of the cup, Albus exclaimed again loudly:
"The champion of Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"
The applause grew even louder, though this time it was only the boys who were cheering. This was not surprising, as not only was the young half-Veela beautiful, but she also possessed a notorious charm that involuntarily, or perhaps intentionally, made the brains of all the males in the hall boil.
Without waiting for the applause to die down, the cup threw another piece of paper into the blue flame, and Albus caught the floating parchment for the third time. Clearing his throat and taking a deep breath, Dumbledore smiled and announced:
"And finally, 'Hogwarts Champion — Cedric Diggory!'.
The Hufflepuff students rose to their feet in unison. "Cedric Champion! Cedric Champion!" The rhythmic chant echoed through the Great Hall. The other Hogwarts houses joined in, and within seconds, every table in the Great Hall was repeating after Hufflepuff.
Almost imperceptibly, but not to Albus, the cup flashed for the fourth time, and amid the growing silence, Dumbledore picked up the falling piece of paper. In complete silence, he read softly and with feigned surprise:
"Harry Potter!" Then, finding the bespectacled boy, he asked in a confused tone:
"My boy, did you throw your name into the cup?
"Potter is a cheat!" Ron Weasley immediately shouted, looking angrily at Harry.
Naturally, Potter denied it, shrugged his shoulders and tried to prove to everyone that he hadn't thrown anything into the cup, but no one listened to him. Most of the students decided that Harry just wanted to show off again.
"And you have to give him credit, the boy does this every year," Albus thought to himself with a fatherly smile. "Although, not without my help, heh heh."
The scandal was quickly hushed up, as Dumbledore had something to hold over every headmaster. Karkaroff shuddered at the sight of Moody, probably remembering how he had betrayed his fellow Death Eaters at the trial. Therefore, he had nothing against the authority of the Wizengamot chairman, even if he was former.
Madam Maxime glared at him and tried to prove something to him. The only thing that helped soften her fiery temper was the mere mention that half-giants were actually forbidden from holding positions of responsibility in the wizarding world. The pale woman, who was simply tall, quickly withdrew her demands. In general, by the next day, the directors were in perfect agreement on all issues.
Harry sat there, feeling humiliated, with his head down. His best friend Ron had publicly called him a fraud and stopped talking to him. Hermione, from the first day of the year, began to gradually distance herself from their group, which infuriated Weasley. She was constantly ill, vomiting frequently, sometimes even during gatherings in the living room. The girl usually looked green and had bags under her eyes, which made her look like a brooding hen. She began to distance herself from Potter in a demonstrative manner, which hurt him deeply. And then there was this tournament, damn it. Thankfully, Hagrid, a true friend, invited Harry to come over tonight to see something interesting and mysterious.
***
Cassius deftly caught the owl and untied the note from its leg. Kingsley Brestver had sent a message saying he had some interesting information. Appearing at the specified coordinates, Black cast a magical shield just in case, but there was no one on the steep sea shore except Kingsley himself, who was impatiently pacing along the path.
"Good afternoon, Lord Black," greeted the Auror. "I'm glad you responded to my message.
"Hello, Kingsley," Cassius smiled, shaking his hand firmly. "What's so interesting that you decided to meet so far away?"
It turned out that the Aurors in Brest had received information from informants in Lutno that a shipment of banned ingredients for making dark potions was to be delivered from Romania, and that the supplier was a well-known firm owned by the Malfoys and Blacks. Therefore, Brustver decided to take matters into his own hands to prevent any information that could tarnish the name of his saviour from leaking out.
Surprised, Cassius thought long and hard, mentally running through the options. Finally, something clicked in his head, and he looked at Kingsley.
"Our transport company used to work only in America. But the last order was also related to the Triwizard Tournament. The transporters were hired to deliver dragons to Hogwarts through portals. The reserve provides escorts, and we are only responsible for the delivery," Cassius said thoughtfully.
"Maybe the wizards who control the dragons decided to bring something to sell in Lutny," Kingsley shrugged.
Cassius looked closely at Bruster, and his eyes flashed with anger:
"Thanks for the information, King. I don't like the fact that the names of the Malfoys and Blacks are being so blatantly used in this dirty business. It smells like a setup and provocation. Do you have lists of the escorts and where they are staying? I think we need to talk to these mages and see what the boys have brought to sell.
Brustver handed Cassius a pre-prepared parchment. In return, a tightly stuffed bag of galleons passed into his hands. The auror's eyes flashed greedily.
"Thank you, Lord Black.
"Thank you, Kingsley," Cassius smiled in response. "If you have any important information, you know I won't hurt you.
The wind from the sea ruffled the thoughtful wizard's robe. Kingsley had already apparated, and Cassius stood on the steep bank, looking at the sea and thinking: "The name Weasley on the list immediately made him grit his teeth. Those damned redheads, surely with Dumbledore's help, had decided to frame him and the Malfoy family at the same time. Well, never mind, 'premonitus, premunitus', we'll see who comes out on top."
The arena was noisy with the cheers of the Hogwarts students, who had just seen Harry Potter heroically defeat a dragoness pumped full of sedatives, which nevertheless gave Dumbledore a scare. The winged lizard broke the chain and flew heavily after the nimble little man. However, Harry, a good Seeker, managed to deal with the clumsy, barely moving beast and grabbed the golden egg.
Now he had a clue for the second round, and the boy would surely find the answers in it. But the old man was much more concerned about the deal that Charlie Weasley and his friends were supposed to pull off that evening in Hogsmeade. Of course, Albus didn't care what the cunning smugglers were selling, but the idea of framing a company that transported the hated names warmed the old wizard's heart. His people in Wizengamot were already prepared to cause a scandal at the next meeting to tarnish the reputation of the arrogant aristocrats. After everything was over, Charlie would report back to Albus on how it went and receive a few galleons before leaving for Romania.
Evening. Fierce. The back of the Gorbyn and Burks shop. Four burly men with bags in their hands looked around warily in the gathering darkness.
"Well, where's your middleman?" Charlie hisses nervously, looking at the shabby walls of the alley.
He had hated Knockturn Alley since childhood, when he accidentally turned here from Diagon Alley and hid in a rubbish bin near the entrance until his angry father found him. Many years had passed since then, but Weasley had not forgotten the unpleasant feelings.
Suddenly, the back door of the shop opened and a stranger appeared in the dark alley. His face was hidden by a hood, but he had no wand in his hands, so the wizards relaxed a little.
"Here are the ones I was told about," the wizard muttered to himself, then asked louder:
"Answer me, gentlemen," the stranger moved towards them, "who was responsible for transporting the contraband?" The night hid his silhouette, and the dragonologists, with their "lumos" on their wands, tensed up.
"What are you doing, Auror?" one of the men growled, ready to fight or flee. "What are you asking? And where is Fletcher?""
Cassius, his face hidden under his hood, grinned and looked at the speaker:
"I'm just wondering if this is stupidity or if it's deliberate. Fletcher won't be coming. That little crook always knows where the trouble is. Well, fine, if you don't want to answer nicely, then I'll look into your evil heads myself. With his last words, Cassius's voice grew significantly colder, and the smugglers felt a growing sense of dread.
"Why are we listening to him, let's get out of here," muttered Weasley nervously. "We'll find someone else to sell the goods to.
"No, gentlemen, you've already come where I wanted you to be," Cassius shook his head, coming even closer.
"Stupefy," Charlie, who had been quickest to react, spat out. "Run, guys."
The others also fired several beams of spells at the dark figure, but they all shattered into sparks when they hit the magical shield. In response to their serious speed, each of them was hit by a disarming spell and "Incarcerate." After a brief commotion and frightened cries as the wizards tried in vain to hold back the power of Black's spells, all four lay bound and disarmed. Cassius busily cleaned up the traces of the fight and called Creacher quietly.
"Take these bodies to the dungeon quickly," he ordered. "And tell my father that I would like to see him when he has time."
Lucius Malfoy was sitting with papers in his study when the house elf knocked on the door.
"Yes," Lucius said irritably, looking up from his documents.
"Master, sir, the house elf of Master Cassius has brought a message for you.
Malfoy took the scroll and read the short lines of the letter. His son asked him to visit him at 12 Grimmauld Place, if possible today. Surprised, Lucius decided not to wait, fearing that something had happened to his son. So, five minutes later, the agitated lord found himself in the living room of Black Manor.
"Hello, Father," Cassius smiled as he rose from the sofa to greet him. "I'm so glad you could come so quickly. Come on, I have a present for you."
Intrigued, Lord Malfoy followed his cheerful son. As they walked, his eyebrows rose higher and higher. When they stopped in front of the camera where the wizards were, Lucius asked in surprise,
"Who do you want to show me, son?
"Look at this first," Cassius handed his father the transport documents and information from Bruster. As he read, Lucius's face grew angrier.
"So these are the ones who tried to frame us?" he hissed angrily.
"Yes, Dad, these are the very same dragonologists and smugglers who tried to sell their goods using our company's name. But that's not the gift," Black grinned. "Take a closer look, Dad, at that man.
Recognising the unconscious redhead, Lucius hissed in amazement:
"It's one of the Weasleys!
"Yes, Dad," Cassius looked up at him. "It's time to lay the foundation for the purification of the Malfoy family altar. Remember when I promised to help you when we were kids?"
Lucius's eyes betrayed him, and without saying a word, he hugged his son tightly.
***
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