Echoes Unsealed, Vengeance Unleashed"

Joseph Jerdam would've been an impressive man—if you could ignore the devilish muscles and the terrifyingly bald head.

He was usually calm. Peaceful, even.

Chase Everwyn had known Joseph long before he'd turned into a werewolf.

Back then, Chase had once considered that if he couldn't master spells through normal means, maybe he could follow Joseph's path—altering his body with raw magical force, transforming himself to access powers beyond human limits.

But their paths diverged. Chase didn't want that kind of strength, nor the kind of magic that came with it. In time, he parted ways with the Jerdam family.

Now freed from the iron mask and heavy restraints, Joseph Jerdam flexed his jaw and worked his mouth, clenching and unclenching his teeth. His eyes swept over the people gathered in the Burrow.

His gaze was cold, and yet his face was strangely composed—as though they were the prisoners, not him.

Only when his eyes locked with Chase's did something in his expression finally shift.

"Hello, Joseph," Chase said evenly.

"Chase," Jerdam nodded. "Long time no see."

Their conversation was shockingly casual—like two old friends discussing the weather.

"How long has it been?" Chase asked.

"One year, two months, and three days," Joseph replied without hesitation.

"Do we need to go through formalities?"

Joseph shook his head. "I know exactly what you're capable of, Chase. But you also know the honor of the Jerdam line. I won't betray secrets. Even if I knew more, the oath of the Order would bind my tongue."

Minister Fudge, watching the exchange, was visibly rattled. He could hardly believe his eyes. This towering werewolf—this monster—was talking because a young boy had asked politely.

"Minister?"

"Ah? What is it?"

"You can begin asking your questions now."

Fudge hesitated. Could it really be this simple?

He eyed Joseph warily. The man looked more like a weapon than a wizard.

Still, the urgency of the situation left him no room to second-guess.

"Did you kill those Muggles? Who is behind you? Why have you come to Britain?"

Joseph ignored the questions, never once looking at Fudge. His gaze remained fixed on Chase.

Chase's tone was soft, almost too gentle for someone so young. "Come now, Joseph. No need for this. We can work together. We should work together."

"Answer the Minister's question."

The calmness in his voice made those around him—Mrs. Weasley, Professor Flitwick, even Moody—shiver. It wasn't the voice of a child. It was too steady. Too controlled.

Molly Weasley suddenly realized she didn't know her nephew at all.

She hadn't truly understood how Chase had survived life in a Muggle foster home.

She hadn't grasped what it meant for a boy once labeled a squib to now wield magic like this.

Joseph gave a low growl, barely turning his head to address Fudge.

"Comrade Chase Everwyn, I will answer your questions because I respect you—but don't insult me by letting these simpering British wizards interrogate me. If you won't ask me directly, then let's go through the process and see if I'm like the others—unable to resist your will."

Fudge blinked. "What does that mean?"

Moody chuckled darkly. "It means… we're about to witness what a Soulbinder really is."

"Soulbinder?" someone whispered.

Even the usually stony-faced Silent Man raised an eyebrow.

Chase sighed. "Joseph… must we really go through this? We were allies once—"

"No," Joseph snapped. "We had business, nothing more. And the Jerdam family does not associate with former Soulbinders of the K.L.B."

Chase's brow twitched. "So annoying."

He could already feel the tension rising. If he revealed his true identity now, Molly, Fudge—maybe even Moody—would start watching him like a threat.

This situation was already messy enough.

But for the sake of Fudge… and the promise of a wand from Ollivander…

Chase looked into Joseph's defiant eyes and felt a wave of disgust.

He'd once thought this man had a strange kind of elegance.

"What, did the werewolf transformation replace his brain with muscles?" he thought bitterly. "I definitely made the right decision not going through with that kind of magic."

Still grumbling to himself, Chase took off his coat, revealing a plain white shirt beneath, and stepped toward Joseph.

"Minister, get ready—"

"Ready for what?"

"Just brace yourself."

"Wh—?"

Joseph towered over Chase, his bulky form half-kneeling but still taller. Compared to him, Chase looked like a wisp.

But Joseph was trembling. Sweat ran down the thick ridges of muscle across his neck and shoulders.

"Joseph," Chase said quietly, "out of respect for your former master, I'll ask one last time—"

Before Joseph could respond—

Bang!

Chase's fist crashed into the side of Joseph's face.

The sound echoed like a slap of stone. His head snapped sideways, cheek denting, muscles rippling under the force. Blood and broken teeth flew.

The chain strained and rattled, screeching like it might snap.

Everyone in the room froze.

Joseph's massive body was slammed back by the punch, his limbs caught midair by the iron bindings before crashing to the floor.

Bang.

Chase stepped forward.

Bang. Another punch.

Bang. A slap.

Bang. A solid kick to the face.

Chase said nothing.

He simply poured every blow into Joseph Jerdam with methodical, bone-snapping precision.

Joseph gasped and choked, barely able to breathe.

The only sounds in the room were the brutal impacts—blow after blow, like someone hammering a slab of meat—and Joseph's ragged, panicked breathing.

"Stop it!" Molly Weasley finally screamed, her voice shaking. She couldn't comprehend how a fourteen-year-old boy could be capable of this.

The others—Fudge, Flitwick, even Moody—were silent. Seeing it in person was something else entirely.

"Enough! Jack—Chase, this isn't right! Cornelius, do something!" Molly cried again, begging the Minister to intervene.

But Chase barely blinked.

"Oh, so this is what it takes?" he murmured with growing annoyance.

Bang.

He raised his foot—and stomped directly on Joseph's bloodied, crumpled face.