0320 The Night Visit

Facing the magical traps capable of leveling a building as grand as Gringotts in an instant, Bryan remained nonchalant. A milky-white, indestructible magical shield appeared instantly, enveloping his body.

The unceasing barrage of spells slowly eroded the ground beneath Bryan’s feet, inch by inch, yet he remained floating, protected by the bright magical barrier, as steadfast as a rock amidst a tempest.

As the lights within the stone cottage began to flare to brilliant life one by one in a gradual ripple, Bryan’s acute ears detected the unmistakable sounds of hurried movement from within -sneaky footsteps scurrying across creaking floors, the muffled crashes of shattered ceramics and overturned furniture in their panicked haste. Just as he prepared to call out a mocking greeting to the thoroughly besieged occupants, the deep coffee hues and staunch stonework composing the structure at the far end of the blue serpent’s coil began to subtly fade and distort.

Like a masterfully crafted illusion stretching to its utmost limits, the ancient manor seemed to shudder and twist unnaturally, straining against the immutable bonds of spatial reality itself as if being forcibly wrenched from its stubborn celestial anchorages.

Like the ancient Black family manor, this historic house had similar defense mechanisms and wards. If a wizard attempted to break in, it would leave the normal space and hide in the untraceable currents of chaotic space. An ordinary wizard would certainly fail against such defensive magic, but unfortunately for the house, it faced The Golden Viper.

The countless defensive spells exploded into brilliant fireworks around Bryan’s protective barrier. As dazzling as they were, the barrier began to tremble slightly. Still, Bryan did not withdraw his spells or strengthen his defenses. The blue ribbon from his wand tip held the stone house firmly in place, preventing its escape.

“Quick, leave through the fireplace!”

Piercing through the continuous thunderous rumbling, a desperate, strained voice erupted from somewhere deep within the fraught dwelling in a shouted plea of desperation.

“I don’t know who has come, but we definitely can’t handle him!”

“Where to, my dear?” A broken, crying female voice came from the house, followed by a much younger, resolute girl’s voice, “I’m not going anywhere, Dad. I’m staying with you!”

“Listen to me, Beatrice!” The first man shouted back, the sheer force of fear and urgency granting his tone a harsh intensity.

“Go to the Hog’s Head Inn in Hogsmeade – the owner is an acquaintance of Dumbledore’s. Tell him we’re under attack, and he’ll inform Dumbledore immediately. Hurry, Beatrice! Dumbledore promised he would help us if we were ever in danger!”

Despite the man’s frantic pleas, his two companions seemed to have finally acceded to his demands. Through the dim windows, Bryan saw the distinct green flashes of Floo powder igniting in the downstairs living room as they attempted to escape via the Floo Network.

Bang! Bang!

The two thunderous detonations reverberated through the night air like the firing of cannons, instantly extinguishing the conjured flames as the terrified mother and daughter were violently expelled from the fireplace in an eruption of soot and pulverized masonry. Their bodies crashed against the opposite wall, collapsing in a heap amidst the settling clouds of ash and scattered debris. 

Their attempt to flee through the Floo Network had failed, unsurprisingly. Since Bryan had sealed the house, he would hardly leave such an obvious loophole. Whether it was the Floo Network, Portkeys, or Apparition, they all fundamentally relied on spatial magic, and the blue ribbon enveloping the stone house had already cut off its interaction with the external space.

The people inside the house seemed to have given up hope, embracing each other and crying as they said their final goodbyes.

Bryan even felt a tinge of embarrassment. He came to ask for help in the first place, and tried to do a ‘harmless’ prank, but he had terrified them to this extent.

*scratching head awkwardly*

“Ahem–“

A slightly sheepish cough cut through the thunderous roar, piercing into the house and causing the grief-stricken family to freeze. Then a familiar, aged voice uttered a sentence that twisted the face of the male homeowner’s face into a ghastly expression.

“Is this how unwelcome an old friend is at your door, Kakus?”

The ferocious gales howled through the night sky, violently dispersing the dense, ominous clouds that had gathered, allowing the magnificent moonlight to wash away the gloomy, oppressive atmosphere that had saturated the picturesque village like a stagnant, murky pond. However, the commotion and disturbance emanating from the ancient Fawley Manor was thoroughly concealed by layers of intricate magic, ensuring that the blissfully ignorant Muggle residents of the peaceful village continued to slumber soundly.

Kakus had arranged for his wife and daughter to stay in the room upstairs, sternly ordering them not to step out of the house. With a sense of urgency, he hastened down the winding, stone-hewn staircase that bent along the interior wall. As he entered the cavernous dining hall, his gaze fell upon Bryan Watson, who had shed his carefully-crafted disguise and was now leisurely surveying the ancestral manor with an air of nonchalance, a myriad of conflicting emotions surged through Kakus’s mind before finally manifesting as a wry smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Mr. Watson—” Fawley uttered, his voice reverberating through the spacious chamber as he casually retrieved a crystal-clear flask of amber-hued whiskey and two pristine glasses from the ornately-carved cabinet that drew the boundary between the dining area and the adjoining living quarters.

The rich, viscous liquid, akin to the deep crimson hue of blood, flowed smoothly into the awaiting vessels, and Kakus unhesitatingly extended one of the filled glasses towards Bryan. After raising his own in a symbolic toast, he didn’t linger for his guest’s reciprocation, instead downing the drink in a single, continuous flow before exhaling a sigh of relief tinged with exasperation.

“You didn’t have to go to such lengths, did you?” Kakus remarked, his tone tinged with bitter incredulity as he struggled to conceal the undercurrent of irritation that simmered within.

“I just wanted to play a prank, Kakus, you’re just too nervous.”

Kakus: *stare* *stare*

Bryan responded with an air of nonchalance, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of his recent actions, which could be taken as a brazen act of home invasion. He swirled the contents of his glass, scrutinizing the sediment that swirled within the amber depths illuminated by the dim yet steady candlelight, before bringing it to his lips and taking a measured sip, his eyes narrowing in an expression of unabashed satisfaction.

“You have no idea of the fear we experienced in the last half-minute. I thought I was doomed.”

Kakus rubbed his sweat-drenched golden hair, his eyes still twitching unconsciously from fear despite mingling frequently in the darkest corners of the wizarding world.

“Well, let us simply regard it as a harmless prank then, shall we? So, Mr. Viper, what brings you here so late at night? I don’t think it’s because you want to take on a commission from me. After all, you’re already a prominent figure of power. If you wish, I’m afraid countless people would be willing to stuff galleons into your pockets!”

Kakus mused with a wry, knowing smile.

“It seems you still don’t truly know me, Kakus—” Bryan retorted, a faint smile playing across his lips. “Gold offered freely on a silver platter holds no value or allure for me. I much prefer to exchange honest labor for tangible results.”

The sweet, tranquil sleep of the late night had been rudely disrupted by someone’s sadistic, morbid sense of humor, and Kakus, having emerged unscathed from what he perceived as a life-or-death ordeal, was in no mood to entertain Bryan’s frivolous attempts at jest and banter. Shaking his head in silent protest, he remained resolutely mute.

“Well then, my apologies for disturbing your sleep, Kakus. There are indeed two matters that require our attention—” Bryan stated, adjusting his posture as he prepared to address the matters at hand with a measured, sober demeanor.

“Regarding the commission I placed with you earlier, it has now been a full six months since our initial agreement. Have you managed to unearth any valuable information thus far?” he inquired, his tone tinged with subtle undertones of impatience and mounting curiosity.

Last August, mere days before the end of the summer holidays, Bryan had enlisted Kakus’s services, hoping that the bounty hunter and mercenary wizards who roamed the globe in pursuit of commissions could aid him in gathering intelligence about the elusive Druidic followers. He was well aware that this enigmatic group, relentlessly pursued by the Vatican and adept at concealing their movements, would prove exceedingly difficult to track, but after half a year of deafening silence, their inability to procure even a shred of news was indeed perplexing.

Kakus, too, furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation. “It is indeed abnormal, Mr. Watson. You are well aware that the wizards who undertook this commission pride themselves on their prowess in gathering information. With their supposed formidable abilities, it should not have taken this long to unearth any leads or tidbits, unless—” he trailed off, his voice tinged with hesitation.

“Unless?” Bryan echoed, as an inscrutable expression flickered across his face.

Kakus observed Bryan with a cautious, measured gaze before continuing, “These Druids have effectively concealed their tracks and are currently in hiding, deep within the confines of a certain forest, no longer venturing forth into the open. And the reason they have resorted to such measures, perhaps, is that they have done something which incurred the wrath of the Church.”

Bryan recognized the implication underlying Kakus’s prudent speculation, and indeed, it was a reasonable deduction.

That woman named Cliodna was no fool. She should have anticipated that her audacious commission had profoundly offended and angered him, and should have logically concluded that he would not let such thing go. Hence, it made perfect sense for her to gather her followers and retreat into seclusion for a period, allowing the storm to pass and the dust to settle.

Bryan nodded slightly. He knew that this matter couldn’t be rushed, so he didn’t press Kakus further.

“There is another matter that needs to be resolved tonight, Kakus—”

Bryan declared, a faint luminescence flickering to life as a neatly folded stack of parchment materialized within his outstretched palm, a duplicate copy of Rita Skeeter’s report that he had obtained from Barnabas Cuffe.

“Take a look at this, Kakus.”

Bryan threw the stack of parchment to Kakus, then remained silent, enjoying the whiskey that Kakus had served him.

Kakus didn’t dare to neglect. He unfolded the parchment, and as his eyes fell on the headline, he raised an eyebrow in surprise. He glanced at Bryan without showing too much astonishment and proceeded to read the rest of the report.

“Rita Skeeter’s report, ah, I see. She does possess a certain degree of fame and respect within our community—” Kakus pondered aloud, his tone pensive and contemplative.

A minute later, having thoroughly digested the contents of the parchment, Kakus lowered the report, his appearance betraying no outward signs of shock or concern; such a trivial secret was hardly earth-shattering or explosive to one like Kakus Fawley, who was privy to countless unspeakable secrets harbored by the wizarding world’s most renowned and influential figures.

After a momentary pause to gather his thoughts, Kakus tentatively inquired, “Do you require my assistance in suppressing the publication of this article-“

“Not assistance, Kakus—” Bryan interjected, setting his glass down upon the polished oak surface with a dull thud that reverberated through the cavernous chamber. “I am well aware that the Fawley family is one of the shareholders behind the Daily Prophet. I do indeed require you, in your capacity as a member of the board of directors, to prevent this article from being published. But it’s not help- it’s a commission, and I can provide the reward.”

Though the Fawley family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood Family, may no longer wield the same degree of prestige and influence as they once did in ages past, a Sacred pure-blood family was still a pure-blood lineage, filled with its own storied heritage and connections.

“I can indeed exert my influence over the affairs of the Daily Prophet,” Kakus agreed after a moment’s contemplation. “However, the Fawley family’s shareholding in the Prophet is not substantial enough to singlehandedly sway such matters. The Greengrass family and the Burkes have much….Very well, I’ll make a trip.”

After pondering for a moment, Kakus made the decision.

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