Chapter 97: An Old Man's Game

"Mr. Aldrich, Sean..."

Yad's voice was laced with a father's worry. Of course, he and Martha had seen what happened. They knew Gavin wouldn't truly harm Sean, but the casual display of control was unnerving.

Aldrich, ever the calming presence, offered a reassuring smile. "Sir, please do not worry. The Master would never harm the Young Master. He was merely... displeased with the Young Master's formality and chose to deliver a small correction. I believe he simply wished to speak with him in private."

"That's good, that's good..." Yad sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He was a man who had faced down dark wizards to protect his family, but in the presence of his own father, a lifetime of ingrained deference took hold.

Upstairs in Sean's study, Gavin snapped his fingers. The invisible bonds holding Sean loosened, and freedom returned to his limbs. He moved his shoulders, rubbing his face with an expression of pure exasperation. "What, exactly, do you want?"

"I want you to stop that stiff, formal act," Gavin replied, leaning back against Sean's desk. "Every time you play the polite little lord with me, I get the distinct urge to pinch your cheeks and remind you that you're still a boy."

"Tsk..." Sean grumbled, slumping into his chair and wisely choosing to say nothing more.

Gavin let the silence hang for a moment before his tone sharpened. "Tell me. What really happened at Beauxbatons? And where is the dark wizard who was sent to kill you?"

"I don't know," Sean lied smoothly. "My friend and I were fighting back, and the cabin collapsed. In the chaos, we ran in different directions. He must have gotten lost in the forest. Besides," he added, a pointed edge to his voice, "if you really want to know where the dark wizard is, shouldn't you be asking your second son, Borell? He's the one who sent him, after all."

A glint appeared in Gavin's eyes, his lips curving into a half-smile. "And how would you know that? Did the dark wizard confess before he conveniently got lost?"

"The traitor at Beauxbatons confessed," Sean retorted without missing a beat. "When I captured him, he admitted Borell sent his dark wizard associate."

"Ah. I see."

The little fox is quite cunning, Gavin thought, a flicker of pride warring with his frustration. Can't trip him up.

Old man, Sean thought, meeting his grandfather's gaze. If you want to trick me, you'll have to wait until I'm senile.

They looked at each other, grandfather and grandson, a silent understanding passing between them. Then they both smiled, a picture of familial harmony.

"Oh, by the way," Gavin said, his tone casual again. "There's one thing I forgot to mention. The notes I gave you... they contain certain spells of a delicate nature. Be extremely careful when you use them. It is best that they are not seen by others."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "While some of those curses mimic natural causes, like heart failure, making them difficult to trace with magic, there are people in this world who cannot be so easily fooled. They may have already noticed the clues. Perhaps they can't catch you this time, but they will look for a pattern. They will find your flaw."

Sean's expression didn't change, but he understood perfectly. His grandfather was warning him about Tarkun. He wasn't surprised Gavin knew. The curse had come from his notes, after all. The death of a Slytherin student from "heart failure" was a significant event. It would have been a simple matter for Gavin, with his vast network, to learn the details and connect the dots back to Sean.

Looking at his grandson, who was still bristling from his earlier punishment, Gavin felt a strange sense of contentment. At the Bulstrode manor, he was the patriarch, a figure of immense power and authority before whom even his own children trembled. But here, in this small house, away from the trappings of power, he could shed that skin. He could simply be Gavin.

Emerald was a whirlwind of magical efficiency. Dinner was ready in no time, and under her care, the dining room had been subtly transformed with small, exquisite decorations, creating a warm and festive atmosphere.

At Martha's call, Sean and Gavin came downstairs and took their seats. Aldrich and Emerald stood discreetly between the kitchen and dining room, ready to serve. Despite Martha's insistence, Aldrich politely refused to join them at the table, his professionalism absolute.

The meal was a delight. Emerald's cooking skills were superb, a testament to why she had been chosen for this task. As he ate, Sean found his thoughts drifting to another house-elf, the unconventional Dobby, who he knew would soon be making an appearance at Hogwarts. He had a soft spot for the strange, freedom-loving elf—and for anyone who dared to defy their fate.

"This was a magnificent dinner," Gavin announced when the meal was finished. "My compliments, Martha."

Martha, flustered by the praise, shook her head. "Oh, no, it was all Emerald! I barely helped at all."

"Speaking of Emerald," Gavin said, turning his gaze from Martha to the rest of the family. "I will not be taking her with me when I leave. From now on, she will be this family's house-elf. Consider it a gift."

"Father, we don't need..." Yad began to protest.

"It's decided," Gavin cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Emerald stays. And from now on, she will obey only your orders. You need not worry about me assigning her any other tasks."

As he spoke the last half of the sentence, his eyes met Sean's across the table. Sean knew instantly that the words were meant for him. It was a gift, but it was also a pair of eyes and ears.

A slight, knowing smile touched Sean's lips. "Thank you, Grandfather," he said, accepting the move in their ongoing game. "In that case, we will gratefully accept Emerald into our home."

(End of Chapter)

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