Deals in Magic

I stepped through the threshold of 12 Grimmauld Place. The ancestral home of the Blacks had changed. Gone were the layers of dust and dread. The moment the door closed, two familiar figures burst into the hall.

"Callum!" my father, , pulled me into a tight embrace, his usual composed demeanor cracking under concern. "Are you hurt?" "Let me see your eyes," Aunt Aster said, wrapping me into a hug of her own, fiercely protective. "They didn't break your mind, did they?"

I smiled softly. "I'm okay. No broken bones. No mental scars—at least not any new ones." My mother nodded behind them, sharing a glance with my father that held more words than any sentence. Relief, fear, and a deep-seated fire. Across the room, Umbridge stood like a toad in pink lace, arms folded primly.

"The wards are in place," she said smugly. "If the boy tries to leave this home without a Ministry official escort, he will be forcibly restrained by pain curses. Subtle, but effective. Enjoy your cage, dear."

Aster didn't miss a beat. "Goodnight, Umbridge." She closed the door in the woman's face before she could reply. The adults drifted into the parlor to talk politics, legalities, and Ministry loopholes. I took my chance to explore.

The house was far cleaner than I remembered. The dark grime, creepy decor, and cursed objects were gone most likely purged and cleaned by Sirius and Hinata. Even the infamous portrait of Sirius' mother was absent.

But someone else had remained, Kreacher. The aged house-elf appeared in the corridor ahead of me, eyes cautious, muttering as he approached. But when his eyes met mine, they widened not with scorn, but recognition.

"Master Callum…" he rasped. I knelt in front of him, meeting his eyes. "I know what you've been through all these years, Kreacher and I thank you. For staying, for guarding this place, for helping… for trying to save Regulus."

His grumbling stopped. "What… what did Master Callum say?" he whispered. I summoned placed my White Flame hand on his bony shoulder, and a glow enveloped him. He gasped softly his hunched posture straightened slightly and his eyes seemed clearer.

"What did you do?" he asked, trembling. "What… was that?" "Healing," I said simply. "My flames can purify pain… not just of the body, but of the mind and soul." His lip quivered. "You know about Master Regulus? What he did? What I did?"

"I do. And if you still have the locket… I can finish what he started. I can destroy it and honor his sacrifice." Kreacher's breath hitched. "You promise?" I stood. "On my family name." He led me silently through the halls, opened a hidden cabinet with a trembling hand—and there it was.

The Locket of Slytherin, Its dark presence hissed at me, even through the velvet cloth wrapped around it. I didn't hesitate. I slipped it into my Inventory, sealing it away where its poison couldn't spread.

I knelt again. " Give me some more time Kreacher I will retrieve Regulus' body and give him the rest he deserves I promise." Kreacher dropped to his knees, tears falling silently. "Thank you… thank you…"

 [System Notification]: New Quest – "Black At Home"

Objective: Retrieve Regulus Black's body and give him a proper burial.

Reward: New spell from Enchanted Journal

Then footsteps. Sirius entered and stopped in his tracks when he saw us. "Oi! Kreacher, what are you doing near him?!" Kreacher flinched, but I stood. "It's okay, Sirius. We were talking. We're good." "You're good with Kreacher?" he repeated, incredulous. "You do realize he used to mutter about letting Death Eaters into the house, right?" I smiled faintly. "Let's just say he's a little better now and nicer to."

Sirius looked between us and muttered, "You're weird, kid but if you say so. Come on, everyone's waiting." We made our way to the dining room. My mother, father, Sirius, Aster, and Madam Bones were seated. talking about courtroom strategies. "We have a week," my father said grimly, "and they're going to throw everything at you. They want to make you an example to not mess with pureblooded families."

Aster tapped her fingers on the table. "We need character witnesses. Adults and students. People who know Callum and can speak to his integrity. as well as on the students that attacked you"

"I can name a few," I said. "Nikita Ash, Hermione Granger, and my professors."

Aster frowned. "Hermione's muggle-born. They won't take her seriously. Nikita might work. Anyone else?" My father leaned forward. "If I go into business with the Parkinsons… maybe Pansy will be willing to testify on your behalf."

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it, Dad. I already have a plan."

Everyone went quiet. My aunt narrowed her eyes. "What plan?" I smiled. "I'm going to make them tell the truth. And Bartemius Crouch Sr. will help me." Sirius blinked. "You're planning to use the most ruthless lawman in the Ministry as your ally?"

I leaned back in the chair, smirking. "All the pieces are on the board. It's time I start playing the this rigged game my way."

The next cold morning light filtered through the thick, old curtains of 12 Grimmauld Place I sat at the long black walnut table, the same one the Black family likely once plotted blood feuds over. Aster, sat to my left and Madam Bones that just arrived was on my right. The heavy knock came at the door alert all of us.

 Crouch Sr arrived and was welcome in by Kreacher he barely gave the house a second glance, stepping into the room like was ready to leave again. "You summoned me, Mr. Dawn," he said, tone clipped. "Urgent, I was told. If you're trying to negotiate a lighter sentence before your hearing, know that I—"

"My son is not negotiating anything," my father snapped, stepping into the doorway beside my mother.

Crouch looked to him with a raised brow. "Ah, Mr. Dawn a pleasure to meet you again." "I trust my son," My dad said, steel in his voice. "He doesn't need me here to defend him much." I turned to my parents and gave them a nod. "Please. I need to speak to him. just Aster and Madam Bones with me."

They looked hesitant. But they listen to my plea. Once the door closed, I cast a privacy charm. The walls shimmered with magic. No sound would escape this room.

I turned to Bones. "Tell me Madam Bones do you know the story of Crouch Jr.?" She raised a brow. "Yes. Barty Crouch Jr. was a Death Eater. He was convicted in the Longbottom case and died in Azkaban in 1982."

Crouch Sr. exhaled sharply. "If this is some attempt to shame me by dragging my son into this—" I pulled out the enchanted mirror from my Inventory and handed it to Bones.

The moment her eyes found the reflection, after a few minutes her jaw clenched. "What…?" Her voice was a whisper, full of dread. The mirror showed Barty Crouch Jr., very much alive, though clearly paralyzed and confined to a bed, being tended by a house-elf.

Crouch Sr. turned to leave, but Bones turned the mirror to him. "Explain this, Bartemius." His eyes widened. "That… can't be…" "Oh, do tell how can it not be because from I see the is that not your son?" Aster said, arms crossed.

I walked around the table. " Allow me to explain before he Crouch Jr, supposedly died received a final visit… from his mother and father. And with the help of Polyjuice Potion, they swapped places. The Dementors fed on a dying woman who only wanted to save her son. None of them would see a difference one dying person stayed and another dying person left like how it was before . Why would they bother? One half-dead body for another."

Crouch staggered back a step. "You… how do you know this?"

"That is my secret that you will never know," I said. "And you've kept him locked away under the Imperius Curse in your home. For over a decade." Aster's voice cut the air. "You let your wife die for him and now you've kept a murderer alive in your house like some buried shame."

"I had no choice," he muttered. "She begged me she was dying. I used the curse to keep him still, controlled, harmless. He hasn't harmed anyone since."

"Yet he's still alive," Bones said, voice cold. "And your actions violated multiple Ministry laws and ethics. Harboring a convicted Death Eater. Circumventing a life sentence. Do you have any idea how many people suffered because of your silence?"

"I had no choice," he repeated. "I did it for her…" I stepped in front of him. "I'm not here to blackmail you, Mr. Crouch. I'm giving you a choice." His tired eyes locked with mine. "A child like you has no idea the kind of darkness that exists. If you saw what I've seen, you'd be crying for your mother."

I smiled faintly. "Believe me. I've seen worse and I will make those fears your so afraid of fear me one day."

He stared. I spoke again, firm and clear. "This world—the Wizarding World—is rotting. Quietly. Underneath bloodline politics, secret pacts, and cowardice. I plan to change that starting with the Ministry and you're going to help."

"And if I refuse?" he asked flatly. "Then I take the Ministry down with you and your son. Your name, your honor what little is left of it, everything."

A long silence filled the room Bones finally asked, "What exactly are you planning, Callum?" I turned to her. "You're respected, Amelia. You're clean. I need you to start identifying trustworthy Aurors, people not in anyone's pocket. We'll need them when we make our move."

"And what move would that be?" she asked warily. I pointed at Crouch. "We're going to arrest corrupt Ministry officials, gather evidence, and clean house. Starting with proving my innocence. In public."

Crouch's voice was quiet. "How do you plan to do that?" I grinned. "Easy. Veritaserum." Bones blinked. "You think they'll agree to that?" I stepped back to the table, hands on the back of my chair. "They won't have a choice none of them will take it I can promise that. but every witness will see the truth revealed. Crouch rubbed his temples. "…You are either mad or brilliant."

"Both," Aster said. "Mostly brilliant."

The silence stretched as Crouch mulled it over.

Then he finally said, "You'll have your Veritaserum, Mr. Dawn. And I'll gather the Aurors. I pray, for all our sakes, you're right about what comes next." I would say bring by the end of the day and I will ask Madam Bones to gather the trusted individuals. Bones will say I already know a few peopleis their anything else you need I would say yes can you take me to Saint Mungos? 

 I made our way toward the Janus Thickey Ward of Saint Mungo's hospital. The long-forgotten I walked with purpose ready to put this issue to bed help these two.

Madam Bones put a firm hand on my shoulder just before the door. "Callum," she said, eyes steady behind her square spectacles, "what you're doing… it's beyond the reach of magic most of us know. But don't overextend yourself again. You fainted last time."

Aster nodded, "be cautious, nephew." I gave a small smile. "Yes, ma'am. But I'm stronger than I was before." When the door opened, the room greeted me with a stillness that felt like it had been holding its breath for years.

Alice and Frank Longbottom were seated this time, not slumped or drooling. It took effort, clearly, but they'd made the effort. For me. Their eyes struggled to focus, but when they did, it was me they saw.

I stepped forward and knelt, looking at them both. "I'm here to finish what I started." Frank tried to speak—his lips twitching into what could have been words. Alice reached for something invisible. But I raised my hands gently.

"You don't have to say anything." From within, I summoned the Origin Flame, its triple hue blooming into my palms: One hand on Frank's shoulder. The other to Alice's hand. I closed my eyes, focusing my Occlumency, diving into Frank's mind first.

His mental landscape—once a field of jagged cracks and fading memories—was glowing now. I could see the Origin Flame already spreading like sunlight breaking over fog. The Gold Flame wove through memories long locked away, stitching dates, faces, and moments into clarity. The Shadow Flame hissed as it consumed trauma left behind by the Cruciatus Curse, eating away at the raw, seared scars embedded in his psyche. And the White Flame it reconstructed the shattered ego into a strong, confident image of the man he once was.

Frank's ego-self, now whole and standing proud, smiled at me. "Thank you," he said. "You gave me back... me."

I let go of his mind and moved to Alice. Her mind was brighter than last time. As if Frank's healing had pulled hers into the light. Her ego form emerged like a sunrise breaking through storm clouds. Her smile—gentle, motherly—made me tear up inside. "Thank you," she whispered. "For letting me see my son again with a clear mind and giving me back me."

I pulled back, breathless in awe. I felt winded, yes but not weakened. Instead, I felt fulfilled. Alice sobbed quietly real tears, full of clarity and emotion. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Frank took my hand with trembling strength. "Young man. You… you gave us back our lives and you gave us back to our son."

Suddenly—PING!

> Quest Complete: Those Who The World Forgot

Progress: 100%

Reward: Tome of Rare Extinct Magical Herbs

(Includes locations, breeding techniques, Arcane Cultivation methods)

Bonus Reward: Elder Tree Seed

My eyes widened. Elder Tree Seed? As in the very trees from which the Deathly Hallows' Elder Wand was carved? This wasn't just rare, this was legendary. But I brought myself back. This wasn't about rewards It was about the Longbottom's. And as I stood, everyone in the room—nurses, healers, guards—looked at me like I had just performed a miracle.

Maybe I had.

We returned to 12 Grimmauld Place, the air filled with something electric. Madam Bones departed with a rare, approving nod. Aster stayed beside me, quiet but proud.

Sirius was waiting in the drawing room, holding a small crystal vial. "Crouch dropped this off," he said. "Veritaserum. Are you sure you're going to use it?"

I stared at the clear liquid, then took it in hand. With my other hand, I summoned the Shadow Flame, letting it lick around the bottle… then devour it.

Sirius looked horrified. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" But I stood still, eyes glowing with subtle magic. "Trust me." Aster's eyes flickered with realization. "Oh. Oh, now it makes sense." My mom walked in, arms crossed. "So that's how you plan to guarantee truth…"

My father and Sirius looked between them, confused.

Then— PING.

> New Ability Unlocked: Truth Seeker

Your magic now inherently incorporates the Essence of Truth.

You can fuse this with flames, Legilimency, charms, enchantments, or runes.

100% effectiveness.

I grinned. "Perfect." One week later. The great Trial Chamber of the Ministry of Magic stood full and buzzing. Whispers spun across the crowd while I stood at the defendant's podium. My mind is calm and clear. Behind me sat Aster, my mother, my father, and Sirius Black, each giving me all the support I could need.

Today the world will change a little and this trial was about to begin.

The Ministry of Magic's Trial Chamber loomed above me like the gaze of a thousand unseen judges. Tiered seating stretched high, filled with witches and wizards from every corner of the Wizarding world. Reporters scribbled with Quick-Quotes Quills. Eyes, both sympathetic and scathing, were locked on me the boy who had shaken Hogwarts itself.

At the central podium, Bartemius Crouch Sr. stood stone-faced, his rigid posture giving the illusion of complete control.

"We are gathered here," he began, "to address the severe misconduct of one Callum Tesfaye Dawn. Accused of: misuse of magic on fellow students, unsanctioned Legilimency, the casting of dangerous spells within Hogwarts, coercion, and endangering the welfare of minors in House Slytherin."

He spoke like a man reciting a tragic poem for the hundredth time. But I noticed the faint tremble in his fingers as he gripped the parchment. He knew what was coming. "Mr. Dawn," he said, looking down from the raised platform. "How do you plead?"

I stood without flinching, my hands calmly folded in front of me. "Not guilty." A murmur swept across the chamber. I could already feel the heat of Rita Skeeter's quill scratching furiously. She hadn't blinked since I entered.

An older witch in sleek Ministry robes—one of Fudge's inner circle—stood next.

"Is it true, Mr. Dawn, that you used force on your fellow Slytherins on not one, not two, but three occasions, without authorization from any Hogwarts staff?"

I looked directly at her. "Twice, yes. The third time I was given permission to defend myself."

Gasps rippled from the crowd. "Then you admit to it?" she pressed, voice rising. "I admit," I replied evenly, "that I defended myself and others. I did not act with cruelty—I acted with purpose. My third action was in response to Unforgivable Curses used against me and a hostage situation involving a wand to a friend's throat. That's not tyranny. That's restraint."

The witch's mouth opened—likely to correct me or twist my words.

"And I did not torture my housemates using Legilimency," I said before she could speak again, voice louder. "I gave them correction. I showed them the real consequences of the path they were walking. That is not cruelty. That is what this world needs."

The chamber rumbled with voices. A few applauded. Most whispered and that's was when I turned.

My eyes swept across the assembled crowd. I found Madam Bones and her hand-picked Aurors—Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks who was still in training, even Alastor Moody, sitting straight-backed with one brow raised in interest.

Then my gaze moved to Crouch Sr., and finally to Dolores Umbridge, seated beside the ever-pale and quivering Cornelius Fudge. Both gave the barest nods.

That was my cue and I raised my hand. Fudge barked, "Now see here, young man, you do not have permission to—!"

Snap. My fingers clicked. A ripple of power surged across the chamber and all eyes turned to me. "Watch closely," I said calmly, my voice echoing without the need for a Sonorus charm. "Watch who trembles. Watch who confesses. Watch the face of corruption."

For a moment, nothing happened and then it began. A Ministry official in the third row let out a strangled gasp, eyes wide. "I… I accepted bribes from the Macnair family to avoid inspecting their cursed artifacts!"

Another followed: "I've smuggled illegal potions into Knockturn Alley for years. I… I lied to the Wizengamot during the Greengrass case."

Another screamed, "I Imperiused my secretary! I Merlin forgive me I made her forget what I did to her!" It spread like wildfire. Men and women from departments all across the Ministry: Magical Law Enforcement, Magical Games and Sports, Improper Use of Magic Office, even Unspeakables—they all began shouting out confessions as if purging their sins.

Madam Bones and her Aurors moved swiftly—chains conjured, restraining spells cast, confiscated wands falling like leaves. Tonks stunned three on the spot. Shacklebolt dragged a sobbing man to the floor. Moody's eye spun wildly, calling names before they even confessed.

Umbridge marched behind them, her usual toad-like smugness replaced with chilling efficiency. She was using this moment to cleanse her enemies, yes but for now, that served my purpose.

And I stood still smiling and In the far back, Albus Dumbledore stood alone, half in shadow. His eyes were hard, unreadable and cold almost calculating.

He wasn't applauding or moving he was just watching me.

I wonder… do you see me as the next Tom Riddle? I thought.

Or do you see your younger self?

Maybe both. But I was neither. I wasn't walking down the path of the Dark Lord. And I wasn't a man playing chess with the fate of children. I was walking my own path and to live the life I want I have to burn this rotten world down and rebuild it since you wont do it.

The trial had barely begun and already, the Ministry was starting to burn.

Three Days Before the Trial

The clock on the mantle struck half-past three as the doorbell at 12 Grimmauld Place gave off a sharp ring, echoing through the recently cleaned corridors of the Black residence. I rose from my chair slowly, calm and ready, Nyx curled on the window sill behind me, her eyes fixed on the door with quiet disdain.

When I opened it, Dolores Umbridge stood at the threshold, wrapped in her usual overly-pink shawl that clashed horribly with the gloomy stone walls of Grimmauld. Her lips were pressed into that infuriating smug smirk, her eyes darting over the place like she was evaluating a home for fleas.

"You summoned me, Mr. Dawn," she crooned, "I assume you've come to your senses and want to speak about lightening the tone of your trial, yes?"

"No," I replied, stepping aside. "Come in."

That gave her a pause. She blinked, confused by the lack of groveling she expected, but entered anyway. She carried herself like royalty, though no throne would have dared host her. She sat delicately at the tea table I had prepared.

"Tea?" I offered, gesturing politely.

She nodded, her chin high. "Two sugars. And a touch of cream, if you please." I poured her cup without a word. She lifted it and sniffed as if expecting a hex. A sip later, she relaxed, though not by much.

"I'll be brief," I said, settling across from her. "How would you like to be truly powerful? Truly relevant?" That wiped the smile from her face. It curled into something more amused. "Oh, my dear child," she said, dabbing her lips with a lace handkerchief. "You mustn't be rude. I am relevant. Highly so. The Minister depends on me more than anyone else—"

"No, he doesn't," I cut in. "He barely tolerates you. You're useful because you're vicious, Dolores. That's all. Fudge doesn't want you romantically and never has If he did, he would have moved on you long ago. You've positioned yourself as a pureblood loyalist but let's not pretend—Selwyn is a lie. Your real name, the one on your mother's side, isn't remotely noble."

Her knuckles turned white on the porcelain handle of her teacup.

"You're a half-blood, Umbridge. Your father was a low-level Ministry clerk with no ambition. You cut ties with him to climb higher. Your mother—a Muggle—and your brother, a squib, were discarded like shameful secrets."

Her face went pale, and she hissed, "Children shouldn't tell lies—"

Snap. The air shimmered as the truth-binding ward I had prepared activated across the room. Runic pulses crawled like veins along the stone floor.

She blinked. "What did you—?"

"So," I leaned forward, "am I really lying?" She opened her mouth—then froze. Her expression shifted like she was fighting something. Then, to her horror, she whispered: "No. You are telling the truth. Everything you said is correct." Her eyes widened. Her teacup slipped and shattered on the floor. "What—? Why did I say that? Did you put Veritaserum in the tea?!"

I shook my head. "No. If I had, you'd be trembling, trying not to speak. But this? This is something else."

I stood slowly and stepped toward her. Nyx, still perched behind me, hissed low.

"You know what I've always wanted to say to you, Dolores?" I said softly, dangerously. "You are a horrible, selfish, ugly little toad of a woman. And nobody likes you. No one mourns you. And when you finally die, they will hope it is slow, painful, and deserved."

I paused. Her hands twitched toward her wand. Her face contorted with rage, and she lunged for her wand.

I didn't flinch my hand rose, and with a single thought, telekinetic force froze her in place. Her wand flew from her grasp and spun to the far end of the room.

"I'm not done," I said. She trembled in place. "You want to hurt people because you've been made to feel small your entire life. You want power. You want beauty. You want people to look at you and fear you or want you."

I smiled thinly. "What if I told you I could give you all that—and more?" She blinked rapidly, her breathing ragged. "Wh-What can a child like you possibly offer me? You have no power. And I am beautiful."

I chuckled. "Are you? Wouldn't you like to be more beautiful? So beautiful even Fudge or anyone else would want you—but couldn't touch you unless you let them?"

I let the words sink in.

"I can give you more than a lie about your bloodline. I can give you power, a new legacy, not about pureblood but with your own power, money, beauty, and Influence. A reason for history to remember you for something more than your hate."

She stared at me. Torn. Desperate. Curious. "…How?" she asked finally, voice trembling.

I gave her a knowing smile as I reached into a stasis-sealed case and withdrew a small glass vial filled with a liquid the color of a blooming rose dipped in blood.

She narrowed her eyes. "And what is that?"

"My own creation," I said calmly. "A beautification potion not the kind that simply masks wrinkles or tightens skin like common cosmetic charms this is better. Regenerative on a cellular and magical level something alchemists dream of but I haven't tested it on… women yet."

I let my words hang just long enough for her to catch the subtle implication of control. Her lips twisted into that familiar frown, but her eyes sparkled with suspicion and longing.

"It should reverse your age by at least a decade, maybe more. Bring out your best features. However, this is only a temporary prototype. If it works and you like what you see, I'll perfect it. You'll be the first to receive the permanent version If you want it."

She hesitated. Eyes flitted between the potion and me, reading for lies she found none.

Then, greed won she took the vial and drank it down in one gulp.

The change was violent her body convulsed a gasp of air forced its way from her throat. The teacup crashed to the floor. Her bones cracked and shifted beneath her skin with wet, grotesque sounds. Her fingers extended, slimmed. Her legs lengthened. Her crooked nose reformed. Her skin smoothed, flushed with vibrant color. Her coarse, graying hair retracted into glossy, thick waves.

I stood calmly, watching the transformation as AIA recorded every millisecond, logging alchemical responses, hormonal shifts, skeletal realignment, and magical signature alterations. This was the test and hopefully a breakthrough.

Finally, she collapsed breathing heavily on her knees before the mirror I'd prepared for this moment.

And she froze. What stared back at her from the glass was not the toad-like hag the world reviled.

No. What stared back was a woman who resembled a young Maggie Siff , regal yet temptingly sharp. She had high cheekbones, hazel eyes, and a glow of health and power. Her pink outfit now hugged a body that was proportioned, supple, and—most notably—beautiful. She looked maybe thirty, early if not younger.(Image Here)

She reached toward the mirror, breath hitching. "This… this is me? This is really me?" "Yes," I said simply. "It always was. Hidden beneath a mask of resentment and mediocrity."

She gasped softly. "I'm… beautiful." Her hands explored her face. "Will it always hurt like that?" "No," I said, retrieving the glass vial shard from the floor. "The improved version will be seamless. This one was just… brute alchemy. I'll refine it."

Still admiring herself in the mirror, she murmured, "Good…" Then she turned to me sharply. "How long does it last?"

"Eight hours," I said, sitting back down with Nyx leaping gracefully into my lap, her purring vibrating through my legs. "I recommend you take a short leave in January. Say it's a healing retreat. When you return… looking like this you have an excuse for all the questions. You'll get the permanent version before the rest of the world but that will be a long time away."

She nodded slowly. "Alright… but you didn't answer my other question. What is it you want my help with?"

I ran a hand through Nyx's soft black fur. "We're going to clean house," I said. "The Ministry is rotten. You, Bones, and Crouch Sr.—you're going to help me burn out the roots. The corruption. The blood supremacists. The predators. The shadow deals. All of it."

She stared at me like I'd gone mad. "That's… treason. You're a traitor to the magical world!" "No," I said quietly. "I'm a revolutionary."

I let the silence stretch. "I don't need you, Dolores. But I hate to waste talented people. And you're efficient, ruthless and precise. You're also cruel, power-hungry but you get results. So I'll offer you this limited authority in the new Ministry. Enough to feel and be respected. Enough to be seen and paid well. If you want it, I'll also give you a second potion, designed to enhance your magic, potentially awaken dormant bloodline abilities and traits and help you develop them the last one is not a 100 percent guarantee."

She blinked. Her lips trembled. "Do you really have all this?" "How do you think I've done all this at eleven years old?" I asked.

Umbridge stood to her full now elegant height, her expression fierce and conflicted. Finally, she nodded. "You have a deal, Mr. Dawn."

I raised a hand. "Not so fast." She hesitated. "What now?"

"A deal like this requires guarantees." I pulled my wand from my coat and offered it to her. "We seal it with an Unbreakable Vow." She went still. "The terms?"

"You will not betray me you will not harm me or anyone connected to me. You will protect me Infront and behind my back. And you will assist me in my ambitions when asked. In return—you'll have your power, your beauty, and your own legacy."

She considered it long… then took the wand.

"I'll cast it," I said. I drew a silver thread of magic and touched it to both our hands. "Do you, Dolores Jane Umbridge, swear upon your magic to uphold this Vow?"

"I do." The magical chain wrapped around our hands, glowing brilliant red-gold before vanishing into our skin. She gasped faintly, then released my wand. Without another word, she walked toward the front door, pausing at the mirror once more, admiring herself with something between awe and disbelief.

Then she left. I looked down at Nyx, who gave a satisfied little mewl as if to say "good job." "This," I murmured to her, "is going to be one hell of a winter break."