Hogwarts: Homecoming

Chapter 2: The Vulture's Prize

"How dare you—"

Some stories have a predictable ending right from the start. A furious howl, as sharp as a werewolf's cry at the full moon, suddenly echoed through the gloomy underworld.

"—trick a great—"

Three seconds after consuming the Confusing Concoction, the old wizard shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the table. The dense pustules and sores on his head rapidly turned from red to violet, then from violet to black. They began to boil like a freshly brewed potion. The fleshy growths on his face seemed to writhe with excitement, twisting and growing frantically as if desperate to escape his skin.

"—and powerful—"

The old wizard was incandescent with rage, his dramatic, rising tone a testament to his fury. He raised a short, thick cane topped with a gemstone, preparing to unleash a vicious curse upon the man who had deceived him.

But tragically, he seemed to forget that in his current state, he had no control over his own volatile and malevolent magic. The very act of trying to cast a spell caused his chaotic power to spiral even further out of control. He was like a wax figure held over a flame; starting from his head and spreading downwards, he began to melt with horrifying speed.

In the blink of an eye, the living, breathing wizard was reduced to a puddle of black, viscous ooze on the ground.

"Apologies. A great and powerful… what?"

The bamboo-thin wizard who had swindled him let out a strange, cold laugh. He snatched the Mithril from the table and shoved it into his robes. Then, he walked over to the puddle of ooze, peered at it for a moment, and fished out the old wizard's cane. He held it up to the light of the floating torches, carefully examining the ruby at its tip.

Even through the dark cloth of his hood, Amos could feel the man's smug satisfaction.

The thin wizard sensed he was being watched. He turned his head, his expression souring as he looked at Amos. Assuming Amos was planning to rob him in turn, he threatened in a low voice, "In a place like this, greed and an overactive curiosity can get you killed. Golden Viper, don't think that tearing apart a few hounds is enough to make everyone fear you."

A contemptuous smile touched Amos's lips. He lowered his head, staring intently at the puddle on the floor. After a moment, a raspy, ancient-sounding voice emerged from under his hood.

"Thank you for the warning, swindler. But you seem to have forgotten something. Besides greed and curiosity, carelessness can be just as fatal."

"What?"

In the instant the thin wizard paused in confusion, a black specter with scarlet eyes shot up from the puddle of ooze. The shadow, like the Grim Reaper itself, floated in mid-air and let out a bloodcurdling shriek at the thin wizard.

"Embrace death with me, you shameless wretch!"

The spectral form was beyond the thin wizard's comprehension. He had no intention of fighting it. He spun around to flee, but it was useless. Every inch of the underworld was bound by an Anti-Disapparition Jinx, and the nearest Floo-connected fireplace was at least half a mile away.

Before the thin wizard could even scramble over the low wall, the massive, reaper-like specter was upon him. It swooped down from the air, its maw opening to reveal a set of razor-sharp teeth. In an instant, it swallowed the thin wizard whole, cutting off his terrified scream.

A sickening crunch... squelch... crack...

The sound of chewing, enough to set one's teeth on edge, was sickeningly clear. A torrent of blood, mixed with white bone shards and brain matter, streamed to the ground. The thick, metallic stench of it made Amos wrinkle his nose in disgust.

The old wizard's spectral form was a final, desperate act of a dying man; it could not exist for long in this world.

Having avenged his own murder, the specter began to fade rapidly. Before it disappeared completely, it turned its head, its eyes locking onto Amos. Its raspy voice was thick with resentment.

"You knew it was a fake, yet you didn't warn me!"

"Why do you blame your own foolishness on others?" Amos stated coldly. "You had best disappear before I take an interest in your current form. Otherwise, I wouldn't mind letting you reside in a glass bottle for a few decades before sending you to hell."

The specter had no counter to Amos's words. With a sigh of resignation, it took one last, lingering look at the world of the living, and then its form faded completely, striding into the arms of death.

A few people nearby had noticed the commotion, but no one seemed surprised by what had happened. No one approached to ask what had occurred. Just as the thin wizard had said, in this lawless place, a healthy dose of curiosity could get you killed.

A flash of silver cut through the dim air. Amos magically summoned the chunk of mithril from the bloody mess. He cleaned it with a flick of his wrist before tucking it away inside his robes, his mood considerably brightened.

With a crisp snap of his fingers, a golden magical fire ignited over the old wizard's ooze and the thin wizard's mangled remains. In just a few moments, the flames had purged the ground clean, eradicating the last traces of the two men from the world.

If you take a man's belongings, the least you can do is handle his affairs. Call it common decency.

"It seems I've missed quite a show, Mr. Golden Viper."

Amos turned his head toward the source of the voice. A middle-aged wizard with blond hair, black eyes, and an easygoing face was standing beneath the tall notice board, a slight smile on his lips.

"Perhaps you were lucky enough to avoid trouble," Amos replied with a nod, his tone indifferent.

The newcomer was Cacus Fawley, a well-known broker in the underworld and a scion of the Fawley family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

The Fawley family had once enjoyed great renown in the wizarding world. At their peak, the head of the family had even served as the Minister for Magic, making them one of the undeniable powerhouses of the establishment.

Unfortunately, the Minister at the time, Hector Fawley, lacked strategic foresight. He had ignored Albus Dumbledore's warnings, gravely underestimating the threat posed by the then-ascendant first Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald, and the damage he would inflict upon Britain and all of magical Europe. For this failure, he was driven from office in disgrace by an enraged wizarding populace.

Having lost the protection of power, the Fawley family suffered a heavy blow and gradually faded from prominence in the British wizarding world.

For two or three generations, the fallen family had been seeking a way to return to the center stage. They tried many paths, but all ended in failure, for at the end of every road stood a figure who was, in the current era, an insurmountable obstacle.

In truth, Albus Dumbledore had never taken any specific action against the humbled Fawley family. However, the wizarding world had a long memory. They remembered that it was Hector Fawley's dismissal of Dumbledore's warning that led to the heavy casualties Britain suffered in the war against Grindelwald.

Fifty years had passed, and the public's anger towards the Fawleys had largely dissipated. But Albus Dumbledore was still very much alive.

The current powers-that-be at the Ministry of Magic treated the hundred-year-old Headmaster of Hogwarts with the utmost caution. They saw no reason to risk angering the greatest wizard of the age over a speck of dust that should have been swept away by the river of history long ago.

Ultimately, left with no other options, the Fawley family decided to cast their lot in with the shadows.

They sent Cacus, the most presentable of their few remaining descendants, to brave the risks of the underworld. Here, he worked to accumulate wealth and connections, patiently waiting for an opportunity to return to the world of light.