A/N: On to the meaty parts of book four. I must mention, part of this is borrowed from Nemesis13 I believe (not certain, been a while since I read certain things).
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING, property of respective owners etc.
Chapter 13
The entire hall was silent as Dumbledore deftly caught the charred parchment.
"Jasmine Potter," the words he spoke softly carried across the space, and made said ravenette stiffen in her seat. 'No…' "Jasmine Potter!" he called again, more loudly as stares were directed right at her.
"What?" she exclaimed loudly.
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"No!" Jasmine yelled while pointing a finger up at the old goat fucker; why did this have to bloody happen to her? "Hell, no! I refuse!"
"Miss Potter, would you come up here please," Dumbledore insisted in a lower tone of voice. The numerous adults upon the dais were staring at each other and him intermittently, and whispering. Maxime and Karkaroff did not look happy. Jasmine stood from her chair and levelled a glare at the man.
"I refuse to compete in a tournament I did not enter, nor am I of age to even be eligible, nor did I consent to be a part of this blood sport in any way!" she shouted across the hall.
"Miss Potter!" he bellowed in response, and Jasmine clenched her fist before angrily walking up to the far end.
"This does not in any way count as consent," she hissed at the man before exiting through the doorway the three prior champions had left by.
Said trio were found gathered around the fireplace. Diggory was looking slightly dumbstruck as he sat in a chair, Krum was looking moody as he leaned next to the wall, and Delacour was looking so kissable that Jasmine wanted to punch her. Giving a slight turn to her head, she boarded over the windows in her mental room, keeping out the bloody pink mist that was only adding to her current rage.
"Are you 'ere to collect us?" the Frenchwoman said in that irritatingly sensual voice.
"No, I'm here to be bloody annoyed," she responded acidly. Her anger quickly turned towards Dumbledore as he led a procession of various adults down the stairs.
"Jasmine, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" he demanded as he got very up close and personal.
"Of course I bloody didn't you old coot! Why the hell do you think I'm so pissed off?" she answered angrily.
"Miss Potter! You will show some respect or so help me…" McGonagall looked ready to burst.
"Respect is earned, not given," Jasmine stated coldly. "Now I'd like to know what the bloody hell is going on; just how was I entered and what does it mean?"
"I'm afraid, Miss Potter," the oily politician said as he held his black bowler in hand, "that you have no choice but to compete. The Goblet of Fire creates a binding magical contract to see the competition through to its completion."
"I didn't consent to being entered, so how is it possible for there to be a contract?" He wordlessly presented the charred piece of parchment that appeared to be ripped off of something with her name written across it.
"You signed this, I believe, and that was enough," he answered.
"This is incredible," Bagman spoke up from where he stood in his ludicrously undersized and worn Quidditch wear. "We will be hosting the first ever Tetrawizard tournament!"
"Non! This is outrageous," Maxime declared, "it is unfair representation that Hogwarts receives two champions."
"I agree," her Bulgarian counterpart stated, "we should re-pick the champions, so we have an extra champion as well."
"The Goblet of Fire has gone out; it will not be lit again until the next tournament," Crouch stated calmly, "each competitor has to compete or else lose their magic."
"What?" Jasmine exclaimed, "that's ridiculous! I mean, for fuck's sake, I'm not even of bloody age! This can't be legal." She ignored the glare from her teachers at her language.
"Well, since the Goblet's picked you, you are now," Bagman said cheerfully, and the ravenette stilled.
"What?" she said in a quiet voice.
"Well, as far as legality is concerned, since you are bound to a magical contract requiring you to be of age, you are legally of age," the ridiculous man seemed completely unaware of the huge proportions of what he was saying.
"Let me get this straight, if I stay under the contract of this tournament, I will be of age with all due rights and privileges?"
"That's right! Funny old thing, magic."
Several of the people there felt a slight chill run down their spines as the fury disappeared from the ravenette's expression, being replaced with a malicious grin of triumph.
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"Jasmine, are you alright?"
"Quite fine; after all, I haven't started the tasks yet," she answered the bushy-haired girl.
"But the tournament… the most likely reason for someone to enter you is to get you killed! You know what the mortality rates were like before it was cancelled."
"Yes, but whoever has got it out for me has made a very, very big mistake," the ravenette looked her Gryffindor in the eyes. "Just you wait and see."
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The Wizengamot chamber was quite an impressive space; designed not unlike a concert hall with its huge domed roof, and with tiers of seating around a central circle on the floor below with only a thin exit. On those tiers heading up several levels were one hundred and ninety six individual seats, composed of a stone partition which housed a desk and three chairs – for the seat holder, their wife, and their heir most often – and with the symbol for the House that seat represented embossed on the front of the partition. Of course, either side of the main insignia were any inherited and cadet Houses under their power, which showed up as smaller crests. Several seats, for those under cadet or with extinct lines, were empty, mostly around the highest tier reserved for the Ancient and Noble Houses and the lowest area for the Houses.
With a fond smile, Jasmine remembered explaining the politics of the various houses' titles to Hermione the day before.
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"The Ancient and Noble Families are those who are both more than eight centuries old – roughly – and to whom are accredited great deeds," Nadia stated as she held up a large book on her knee. "You see here; Potters, they've been around since 932 AD, Blacks, even older but certified as far back as 600 AD, Longbottom, 1043 AD, and so on."
"And these are the most powerful pureblood Houses," Hermione continued, looking down the List. "Bones, McKinnon, Ollivander, Rooke, Nott, Meadowes, oh wait, this says they're extinct."
"Yes, killed off by the Black family," Jasmine commented. "But they're not technically the most powerful, that would be the Royal Houses. There are barely any of those, and I think the McCarthy family of Southern Ireland is the only surviving one. The only other example off the top of my head is the House of Pendragon, which is long since extinct."
"Wait, the Irish are part of the Wizengamot?" Hermione asked with confusion.
"Yes, there were no independence problems with magical Ireland, which is why we have a few Irish students here," Jasmine replied. "Now, the next tier is the Ancient Houses. Again, over eight centuries in age is convention, but that's it. All you need to do is survive that long." More familiar names were there as well; Parkinson, Crabbe, Macnair, Smith, MacLaggen and plenty of others who had children at Hogwarts.
"There are quite a few of them," Hermione commented.
"Well, it's a lot easier to become Ancient than Noble in a lot of ways," Nadia said, "which is the next category – the Noble Houses are those who have been around less than eight hundred years, but whose members have done something notable. Diggory, Greengrass, there's Dumbledore – his family got added after he defeated Grindelwald. Fudge is on there as well; it's pretty much guaranteed as a formality if you're made Minister."
"And the next is the 'Houses' which don't have anything before their name. To qualify as one of these, you need have been in Britain for 10 successive generations of purebloods, normally, and be sponsored by someone who is already on the Wizengamot," Jasmine continued. "There are a lot of those, more than a third of the Wizengamot I think. Any pureblood House below that is a Minor House and is not on the Wizengamot."
"Oh my God, there's the Malfoys," Hermione's hand was touched to their name on the list.
"Yes, it's something of an old joke among the Noble Houses," Nadia commented, "they emigrated, read, fled from France after some bad business, and lodged up here in the eighteenth century, and despite their economic power – the Malfoys have always been rather shrewd businessmen – they are only a House."
"But, Draco struts around like he owns the place, by this system he's not that far off the bottom of the pile," Hermione said with confusion.
"Ah, you see, the whole blood purity thing emerges from those that really value purity and think they should get more due to it. By normal convention, the child of two half-bloods, or a half-blood and a pureblood is a pureblood, but there are those who don't think of it as the same. There is a so-called 'Pureblood Register' which has the most pure lines that only breed with purebloods – which neither the Longbottoms or Potters are on because we've got the occasional muggleborn or the like in our ancestry," Jasmine continued. "A lot of those people from that list believe they are entitled to more power – despite not being Ancient or Noble Houses in most cases – due to the purity of their blood alone. These were the original members of the Knights of Walpurgis, along with a few people from Houses higher up the hierarchy who were third or second in line to Head of House, and felt they were owed more by society."
"Weren't the Knights of Walpurgis the basis for the Death Eaters?" Hermione stated.
"That's right. A lot of the Houses that 'allegedly' stood with Voldemort are those same ones who believe they are owed more by being pure, or otherwise loathe those who are not."
"I thought they were just scared of muggle culture and muggleborn numbers rising."
"Well, that too, but this is also a contributing factor."
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"I hereby call to order the 6th Wizengamot meeting of the year two-thousand and nine," Dumbledore declared from his podium, eyeing the presence of one Jasmine Potter in the public stands. She felt his gaze keenly, but didn't move from her relaxed stance in her elegant black dress that was suitably aristocratic and understated. He was likely wondering how on Earth she was outside of school without his permission or knowledge – though legally she would be able to as soon as this meeting was over. "Are there any outstanding topics before we may begin?"
"I have a declaration to make," announced Augusta Longbottom as she stood from her seat behind the Crest of her House, automatically moving into the space from which the sonorous enchantment to amplify her voice would function, as in every seat. "I would like to stand as sponsor for the Head of House Potter to receive her seat on the Wizengamot as is her right. Miss Jasmine Potter is the only claimant by right of blood." Jasmine took this as her cue, standing from her seat in the visitor's section, drawing attention to herself.
"I would object – the candidate is underage, and thereby not able to take her seat," Dumbledore replied.
"Incorrect," said one Madame Bones as she stood up from her own seat, "as far as the law and the Ministry of Magic is concerned, Miss Jasmine Potter is declared of age by the magical contract into which she is entered with the notable artefact the Goblet of Fire, the certification for which I have here from my own office. Furthermore I would second Madame Longbottom's proposal; there is no reason to keep this young woman from her seat." Jasmine grinned at Dumbledore's brief scowl, and felt happy that she had brought the head of the DMLE in on her plan to some extent.
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'Dear Madame Bones,
I would ask if you could please bring certification for my coming of Magical Majority with you to the Wizengamot Meeting this Sunday. I would further entreat upon you, and ask if you could supply one of the attending Aurors with a bottle of veritaserum – I will gladly pay for any expenses for acquisition – I have a matter of some importance that needs to see justice done, and that I am certain you will approve of, for which this is required.
Yours, sincerely.
Jasmine Potter, Head of House Potter.'
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Bones had replied affirmatively, albeit while asking for what reason she had need for such things. She twisted the ring denoting her status as Head of House Potter – the only visible ring on that finger, since the other was covered with a glamour – while watching Dumbledore blatantly stand there trying to think up a reason to deny her her seat.
"Motion has been seconded," he relented, "all those in favour?" The vast majority of the room stood and raised their wands to display a white ball of light hovering on the end. "All those against," he added in a more tired voice. A tiny number of people from the dark sect – Nott, Parkinson, Bulstrode, but surprisingly not Malfoy – raised their wands with a red light, along with the Chief Warlock himself. "Motion is passed; Jasmine Potter is hereby appointed as the representative of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, the inherited Ancient House of Peverell, and the cadet House of Loxley." He didn't even need to read out the degree to which it passed – it was quite an obvious victory.
Jasmine walked down the short few steps to the main Wizengamot floor, before bowing to the room at large, as was tradition, before hiking slowly up to her seat on the top row, next to Augusta interestingly enough.
"Now, if there are no further interruptions, we may move on to the main subject for today," Dumbledore continued, shuffling a few papers around.
"Actually," declared Jasmine, "as is the right of any newly appointed Wizengamot member, I would like to bring a personal grievance before the room." She cleared her throat a little, noting the attention of the many adults in the chamber. "Thirteen years ago, my godfather, Sirius Orion Black – the heir at the time and now Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black – was imprisoned in Azkaban." She definitely had the attention of the whole chamber now, especially Dumbledore and Malfoy. "I would like to bring before the court the issue that he never received a trial." Various mutters went throughout the room, and she waited for them to die down a moment before continuing. "I would clarify that for more than a decade, the Head of an Ancient and Noble family sat in the most torturous jail mankind has ever invented, without ever having been duly tried or indeed sentenced. This is a most grievous miscarriage of justice, if ever I have heard of one."
"Objection, in time of war there is allowance for those most assuredly guilty to be placed in Azkaban without trial," Dumbledore declared.
"The war with Voldemort to which I presume you are referring officially ended at 11am on the 1st of November 1996, by the word of the then Minister Millicent Bagnold, and unofficially on the 31st of October the same year. These are written in 'A History of Magic' for every Hogwarts student to see and indeed know for their OWLs, Chief Warlock. Sirius Orion Black was arrested at 1am on the 2nd of November, fourteen hours after the war had officially ended," her reply was as swift as it was cutting, as it left that argument of Dumbledore's without a leg to stand on. "I would therefore motion that if Sirius Black can be presented before this court that he receive a fair trial, as is his due right by the laws of this nation!"
Numerous whispers spread through the hall.
"Sirius Black is a dangerous criminal," Fudge announced as he stood from his seat above Dumbledore's in the centre of tiered system, looking not particularly subtly at Malfoy as he did. "As such, a Kiss on Sight order has been given. This proposal is asking that our brave Aurors attempt to capture a dangerous killer, putting them at severe risk."
"Not at all, Minister," Jasmine replied, "I said presented, not caught. If Mr Black hands himself in, or by some lucky coincidence is captured by Auror or Citizen, then he should be tried before this august body. Are there any here who would deny a man his legal rights?" The portly man sat himself back down, sharing a matching worried expression with Dumbledore. "If there is nothing further to add, and no reason to throw the proposal out, a vote must be had."
"All those in favour?" Dumbledore declared tiredly from his seat, looking down at the quill in front of him scribbling across the page as it recorded the votes. Definitely not as many white lights as the previous vote, but then this was for trying a criminal. "All those against?" This time showed an occasion when plenty of Dark and Light voters agreed on the same issue, with Malfoy and Dumbledore leading the crowd. Once the wands were lowered, she eagerly anticipated the result and grinned as the Chief Warlock looked unhappy. "Motion passed, ninety five to seventy eight." Almost as soon as he said it, a man seemed to appear from nowhere in the visitor's stands, the flash of black and silver as fabric was shoved into his pocket barely noticeable as he stood and yelled, attracting the attention of the room.
"I, Sirius Orion Black, Head of House Black, do hereby accept the gracious offer of the House of Potter and do hereby consent to use of veritaserum to determine my innocence." That was as far as he got before his shouting was cut off by a red stunner from one of the attending Aurors. The noise from the Wizengamot members was astounding as a man who was definitely Sirius Black was tied up with a quick spell and dragged away.
"Order!" demanded Dumbledore, issuing a cannon blast sound from his wand, "Order!" He sent a quick glance over to Madame Bones who was standing up and staring as her men arrested the man they'd been after for more than a year. "Session is hereby adjourned and will resume in one hour's time due to extenuating circumstances."
Jasmine sat back in her seat with a satisfied smile; everything was going to plan.
"You know," stated Amelia Bones as she walked behind the Potter booth, "aiding and abetting a known criminal is a crime."
"Not if he's not a criminal, Madame Bones," she stated upon turning to look at the woman. "As we will soon determine, I believe Sirius Black may just be innocent. And besides, you don't have any evidence that could incriminate me anyway." She stood up, dusting a piece of imaginary lint from her dress. "Besides, Madame Bones, there is Justice and there is the Law. They are not always the same thing, and I believe in this case, the former is on my side, if perhaps not the latter. Did you bring the veritaserum?"
"I did," she replied, before frowning and walking quickly down the nearby steps past the throng of people to one of her Aurors.
"So this is what you really had planned," Augusta Longbottom said as Jasmine walked by her.
"Maybe, if perhaps it wouldn't incriminate myself to agree," she returned. "Forgive me for assuming, but I left you out of it since I believe your view towards the House of Black is not exactly favourable due to a certain notable member. I noticed you abstained in the vote."
"As you say, I have certain opinions of that family," she replied through gritted teeth. "His cousin stole from me my son and his wife."
"My godfather is very little like the rest of his family, Madame Longbottom, to the degree that he ran away from them at age fifteen. It's lucky for him he was never formally disowned, or that vote may have gone differently." The woman pressed her lips together and moved away with the rest of the crowd shuffling down the steps, while Jasmine took a more leisurely pace taking up the rear as the last person to reach the ground floor where a certain goat-fucker was waiting.
"Would you care to explain why you are off school-grounds, young lady?" he stared at her over the top of his glasses.
"As per school regulations, a student may be away from Hogwarts when required to attend important Wizengamot sessions with their Head of House, or indeed as their Head of House," she smiled innocently at him, "I am the Head of House Potter, after all." She flashed her recently acquired jewellery at him, displaying her House crest in gold. The main Potter vault was quite impressive, really, with a good number of antiques and such, as well as various possessions of her parents that had been placed there from Godric's Hollow after their deaths. However, her main reason for visiting it had been to claim this very thing. "As such, I was breaking no school rules by coming here." He looked ready to reply when he was interrupted by someone else.
"Miss Potter," stated the Auror as he walked up to the pair of them, "Madame Bones requests your presence; Mr Black is asking for you as his legal counsel."
"If you'll excuse me, Dumbledore," she said as she spun and followed the red-robed man, grateful to him for pulling her out of that annoying situation. Now she just needed to find out if she was jumping from the frying pan and into the fire.
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"Wizengamot proceedings are hereby resumed, and we are to begin with the trial of Sirius Orion Black," the Chief Warlock declared, not sounding particularly happy about it. "Auror Shacklebolt, would you please administer the veritaserum?"
Even from her position way up in the room, she could see the tall African man who had been her defence professor at one point tip a potion bottle into the mouth of the man casually sitting in a chair at the centre of the room as if he were not chained to it. Sirius had actually cleaned up rather well after being given time to recover from Azkaban, and she had seen to it that he received a proper shave and such before coming here. Every little helped, after all.
"Ready to begin, Chief Warlock," the Auror stated as he turned back to Dumbledore.
"Auror Shacklebolt would you please read the questions prepared by Mr Black's legal counsel," the old man asked. It was generally accepted in a trial when under veritaserum that the accused would only answer specific questions, so as not to be forced to reveal anything an enemy might force them to by simply shouting out the question.
"Are you Sirius Orion Black," Shacklebolt began.
"Yes," came the monotone reply, magnified for all to hear.
"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew?"
"No."
The various whispers and mutterings that filled the room at that statement were substantial.
"Did you deliberately cause the deaths of the muggles found near you when you were arrested on the 2nd of November, 1996?"
"No."
"Who did kill them?"
"Peter Pettigrew."
"How did this happen?"
"He cut off his finger and then fired an explosive curse at an exposed gas main at a work site before transforming to his animagus form." Shacklebolt waited for the noise to abate before continuing.
"Have you ever killed another human being?"
"Once; a Death Eater when I was on a raid with the Order of the Phoenix."
"Were you the Potter family's secret keeper to their Fidelius charm?"
"No."
"Who was the Potter's secret keeper?"
"Peter Pettigrew."
"Have you ever been a Death Eater?"
"No."
"There are no further questions, Chief Warlock," Shacklebolt put down the piece of parchment Jasmine had given him before administering the antidote to the veritaserum. She took that as her cue to stand.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot," she stated as she swept in for the killing blow, "it is quite clear that Sirius Black has committed none of the crimes for which he has served penance in Azkaban Prison, and there is no evidence whatsoever of any wrongdoing on his part as he has committed no crimes since then. I hereby move that he be cleared of any and all charges."
"Those for?" Dumbledore made a gesture of exhaustion as he gave in to the inevitable, watching the veritable mass of white lights. "Those against?" The meagre number of red lights was restricted solely to Malfoy and a few of his cronies, since he stood to lose the most with the Head of House Black being around to take his seats back. The blond ponce looked furious. "Motion passed; Sirius Black, you are hereby cleared of all charges." The chains binding him to the metal chair slithered off of the man, and he sprang up with joy on his face.
"I have a declaration to make," stated Jasmine as she prepared to set the coup d'état into its final move. "I would like to stand as sponsor for the Head of House Black to receive his seat on the Wizengamot as is his right. Sirius Black is the only claimant by right of blood."
Lucius Malfoy stood up, and appeared to be about to make a declaration of his own, but soon thought better of it and sat back down while silently fuming. The vote took even less time than her own, and Sirius Black was soon in his own little partition with the Black family crest.
"As is the right of any newly appointed Wizengamot member, I would hereby like to bring a personal grievance before the room," the man announced without sitting down. "I would like to sue the Ministry of Magic for gross incompetence. Unfortunately, that's not a crime, so I'm going to sue for my twelve years of wrongful imprisonment."
Jasmine wasn't sure if the wince Fudge gave was due to the hit on his pocketbook or on his reputation that this day had wrought.
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As Jasmine walked into Grimmauld place, she could already hear her two 'uncles' celebrating. Likely with fire-whiskey.
"Free, free as the wind blows," the out-of-tune singing from Sirius' mouth was swiftly followed by a loud belch just as she entered the living room. She raised her eyebrow at the slightly inebriated pair.
"Having fun, godfather mine?" she asked amusedly.
"There she is; the girl who cleared my name!" Sirius lurched forward and slung his arms around her. "I can never thank you enough, Jasmine." He was distracted from his thanking by a thump from behind her.
"Well, I'm sure it will even out with what I'm doing now. I let some people in on the Fidelius whom I thought you needed to see," she replied. Moving out of the way of the doorway, the three members of the Tonks family tentatively walked into the room. "I believe you'll probably remember Andromeda Tonks, though I'll assume you haven't met Edward and Nymphadora." The pink-haired woman scowled, and her locks turned an angry crimson at the mention of her name.
"Don't call me Nymphadora," she growled.
"We've met before," Sirius said with a smile, "although Nymphie here was just a bump in her mother's wedding dress as I gave her away." Andromeda's fierce features – which looked disturbingly like her insane sister Bellatrix's – flushed at the casual mention of the fact that her daughter was very close to being born out of wedlock.
"You were the only person from her side of the family at the wedding," her husband said with a shade of humour, seemingly unconcerned. "You were also the most drunk by the end of it, I think."
"Sounds like my dogfather, alright," the ravenette replied. "Anyway, I thought they should be here for the coming events."
"What do you mean by that?" Andromeda asked hesitantly.
"I'm bringing you back into the family," Sirius replied, grinning like a loon, "and disowning your sisters. And then we're going to bury all the stupid ideas our parents encouraged us to believe in and dance on their graves. Want to help?"
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"I have need of your services once again," Malfoy stated as he sat down heavily opposite her.
"I had a feeling this was coming," Jasmine replied, standing up to pour the man a drink from her globe. "Black, I presume?"
"Yes," the blond man spat acidly, "I need him dead."
"So you can regain your seats on the Wizengamot, and so your son can inherit the Black titles," she completed, placing a glass of fire-whiskey on the desk before the man. "I'm afraid it's too late for that."
"What?" he spluttered.
"It's too late; if we had been the ones who had caught him, we wouldn't be having this conversation." 'Because you'd be asking for Jasmine Potter's head instead.' "As it stands, they got to him first. I can tell you that killing him will not solve your problems, unfortunately. He's already named his goddaughter – Jasmine Potter – as his heir. According to the goblins, she already carries the heir's ring. Furthermore, papers have already been submitted to the ministry this morning disowning your wife and son from the House Black, along with Mrs Lestrange, while reinstating your other sister-in-law and her family." His face purpled at the news, and she spent a brief moment enjoying the expression on the man who normally got everything his way.
"I thought you're supposed to be able to deal with anything!" he growled.
"Can? Yes. Will? No," she answered blithely, "simply put, you're not getting anything back without killing off the girl-who-lived, which is something he does not believe to be a wise thing to do."
"Why not? She's just a little brat who hasn't even finished Hogwarts, how much effort can it be to kill one girl?"
"A surprising amount – she has protected herself very well, to the degree we didn't know she had Black until they unveiled their plan, and we cannot touch her without compromising several people. Furthermore, it would draw a great deal of attention, attention we do not desire," she leaned back in her chair as she threw her hands up. "I'm afraid, Mr Malfoy, that as far as our organisation is concerned, she is not worth the trouble. You can attempt something of your own, however it would be ill-advised and you would receive no help from us." Malfoy stood from his seat, his hand clenched around his cane angrily as he prepared to stalk from the room. "A piece of advice from the professionals, Mr Malfoy; forget about this and move on, whatever you try will not succeed."
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The rapping upon the main door of the building was unexpected, and the leader of the small group approached it with caution, his wand drawn. He tentatively opened the wooden portal to reveal a woman in dark clothing with an umbrella lifted aloft from which the rain pattered off. Her face was unrecognisable apart from a pair of reflective green lenses, matching her tie. Behind her, another figure was just visible in the early evening light, though he was entirely obscured by a long, black cloak.
"Ah, Mr Crumby, I presume?" the woman said with a slightly upper-class accent, her teeth showing as she gave a shark-like grin.
"What's it to you?" he responded gruffly.
"I am here to make a business proposition of some importance – may we come in?"
The man looked them over once more the young woman didn't seem that much of a threat – although the smile was unnerving – and the other was likely her bodyguard. He had three men in the room behind him, plus himself, so he quickly calculated there being a possibility to kill them both easily and then rob the posh girl's corpse for any valuables.
"Be my guest," he finally said, moving out of the way and gesturing to the room beyond with a feral smile. Said room was something of a storage space, with wooden crates stacked up against the wall and his men dotted about. The woman seemingly paid the goons no attention, and settled herself imperiously down at the sole table in the centre of the room, leaning back without a care in the world.
"Let's make this brief, since I'm on a schedule," she began once settled, "my name is Adler, and I represent a group of some influence who have come to notice your little... business here. You've carved out quite the little niche for yourselves, and you have a loyal customer-base it would seem. That's the reason why I'm here and you're not simply being killed off so we can take your place; it would be a minor inconvenience to build that roster of customers and such back up, and so I am here to offer you two options." He could practically feel the eyes under those glasses boring into him as she spoke. "You can join up and keep your lives, as well as gain the benefits of working with us in exchange for some of your profits, or you can force my hand and we'll just have to replace you."
"Hah, you and whose army, girl?" he laughed, his chuckling echoed by a few others around the room who were fingering their wands.
"The one-man army you let in the door," she answered cryptically, pulling an elegant pocket watch from somewhere and looking at it with interest. "Speaking of which; moonrise in three… two…" Everyone barring her flinched as the silent man in the cloak gave a groan of pain, and there was an audible cracking of bones as his body shifted in shape. Crumby pulled his wand up to send off a spell as the man began to let out canine groans, but was hit by a silent blasting curse from the woman before he could, slumping back against the wall and dropping his wand. "Wolfsbane is a marvellous potion, no?" Adler continued as if nothing had happened, and a fully-transformed werewolf wasn't brushing the ceiling behind her as it ripped the remains of its cloak away from its fur. "Tastes like goblin piss, or so I'm told, and has some side effects, but it lets a man keep his mind while transformed. Sanders, if you would." The lumbering beast obediently moved forward, its yellow eyes fixed on Crumby as it brushed aside one of his men before reaching him, grabbing him around the chest with a clawed hand and pushing him up the wall, his feet dangling down. "People like Sanders here are just the tip of the iceberg – our organisation can give you funding and supplies, more manpower, and just generally we can improve your little trade into a very profitable venture. All you have to do is agree." Crumby was more interested in looking into the feral yellow eyes of the beast holding him up like he weighed nothing. "Your answer? Or are you going to wait for Mr Sanders to lose his patience?" The slight growling from the wolf cemented the man's fear, as well of those around the room who were completely stumped as to what to do while their leader was being held like a ragdoll. The acrid stench of urine filled Crumby's nostrils, and he realised it was from his own breeches.
"I agree," he said hoarsely. He at least knew when he was beaten.
"Excellent," Adler replied as the wolf let him down to the floor, "let us flesh a few things out – and I wouldn't try any sudden moves, or there'll be a few new guests at the morgue."
