Author's Note: As book two begins, the story will take on a darker tone. While there will still be feel-good moments and comedy, the overall atmosphere will become more intense, and the narrative will explore deeper and more intimate situations. This first chapter sets the stage for what lies ahead, offering a foretaste of the themes and mood that will shape the rest of the story.
Chapter 22. Home again and Blackmarket auction.
As Jakob, Emma, and Thomas stood before the grand entrance of the Quade mansion, the towering wooden doors swung open with a gentle, inviting creak. Stepping inside, Jakob felt the heavy weight of his title as the Quade heir shackled his wrists once more. He longed to be back in the familiar, dark sanctuary of Slytherin, where he could escape these suffocating responsibilities.
But there were two things he had sorely missed, and they stood right in front of him, eagerly awaiting his and Emma's return. Susie gave him a motherly smile, while Ella couldn't control her eagerness and rushed towards him.
"You're finally back!"
Her now slightly lighter blonde hair billowed as she rushed towards him, her laugh almost a scream of joy as she saw her favourite person. Jakob dropped his bag and opened his arms for her, catching her as she jumped up into his embrace. The sound of her laugh was something Jakob could create a Patronus with. Her excitement was infectious, and despite the weight of his burdens, a genuine smile tugged at the boy's lips as he held her, her familiar warmth reminding him of the few comforts home still held.
Susie's eyes sparkled with affection as she warmly embraced Emma, who returned the hug with the same warmth.
Amidst the heartwarming family reunion, Thomas, the head of house, swiftly strode past them and retreated into his office. His hurried pace underscored the pressing nature of his business, leaving the others to continue their gathering without him.
After a while, Jakob gently freed himself from Ella's tight grip and set her down on the marble floor. She looked at him with an appraising gaze, taking in his appearance. "You've grown," she remarked with a curious up-and-down glance, her examination concluding with a focus on his head. "And your face has changed?"
Jakob exchanged a knowing glance with Emma and Susie, fully aware of why Ella had noticed his subtle physical changes. The two females understood that the ritual Thomas had performed earlier this winter had indeed initiated its transformative process. However, they silently agreed that young girls's curiosity didn't need to be satisfied regarding this particular secret.
Jakob turned his gaze back to Ella, taking a moment to observe her. Her blonde hair had lightened slightly, and her jawline had become more defined. Though it wasn't as pronounced as her mother's, it was clear she had transformed into a young teenager since their last meeting. He also noticed the subtle changes in her body as she began to grow into the woman she would one day become.
"And you've grown as well. And gotten heavy," Jakob sighed, massaging his arms with a hint of playfulness in his voice.
The soon-to-be thirteen-year-old girl, however, wasn't easily fooled by his attempt to change the subject. She regarded the older boy with a subtle frown, crossing her arms as she noticed the silent exchange between him and Susie.
"Fine, don't tell me. And I have grown, haven't I?" she said, spinning around to show off. Both Susie and Emma looked on in amusement at the younger girl's antics towards Jakob.
"Say, Susie, doesn't it look like our little Ella has a crush?" Emma teased.
The older woman, caught off guard by the comment, playfully slapped Emma's arm while stifling a laugh.
"I have not! He's just better than any of you," retorted Ella, affronted by the comment.
Emma walked over and hugged the still-upset girl while chuckling, and Jakob took this moment to walk over to Susie, giving her a hug only a son can give his mother.
After their greetings, Emma and Jakob were guided up the grand staircase to unpack their belongings, while Ella and Susie were going to finish up some preparations for the evening. Wielding his wand, Jakob gracefully levitated his bags, his footsteps echoing through the marbled stairwell.
Upon entering his room, he guided his levitating trunk to the foot of his king-sized bed. Using the trunk as a step, he climbed onto the plush mattress and sat down. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he surveyed the familiar surroundings.
While there was a certain comfort in being back home, Jakob couldn't ignore the fact that the sole silver lining of his return was reuniting with three out of the four family members he had missed during his time at Hogwarts.
Kicking the trunk open, A faint smile began to emerge on his face as he bent over his trunk, ready to delve into his belongings. He pulled out his Slytherin robes, neatly folding them and placing them into the wardrobe, their emerald green contrasting against the dark wood. His textbooks followed, each one carefully stacked on the polished oak desk, their spines uncreased, a testament to his respect for knowledge.
As he continued to unpack, Jakob's eyes wandered around his room. The shelves lining the walls were meticulously arranged, filled with potion ingredients and spellbooks, all organised by category and size. A collection of rare artefacts and curiosities, his father och sister had gathered from various parts of the wizarding world, were displayed with precision, each item in its designated place.
His bed, with its dark green and silver bedding, was perfectly made, not a wrinkle in sight. The desk beside his bed held a single, silver-framed photograph of his family, their expressions stern and composed. A mahogany chest in the corner of his room contained his Quidditch gear, each piece cleaned and stored with care.
Satisfied with his work, Jakob straightened up and studied his room once more, his eyes scanning every detail to ensure nothing was missing or out of place. As his gaze swept over the neatly arranged shelves and perfectly aligned artefacts, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, growing louder with each passing moment. Instinctively, he recognized the familiar rhythm of his father's steps, accompanied by the distinct clank of a cane striking the marble floor every few steps.
Soon, Thomas appeared in the doorway, exuding an air of unquestionable authority, his broad shoulders filling the frame. Jakob's eyes traced the straight-line brown beard with subtle hints of white that accentuated his father's well-defined jawline.
One of the most striking differences between father and son was their hair: Thomas had brown, straight hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, while Jakob's hair was black and slightly wavy, framing his face in a way that highlighted his sharp features and piercing green eyes.
The elder Quade's rugged physique, a result of the family's intense ritual practices, contrasted sharply with the pristine elegance of the room.
"Boy, I need you to stop unpacking and..." Thomas halted mid-sentence as he noticed the open trunk and looked around Jakob's room. Seeing that everything was already done, he stepped inside, his sharp blue eyes scanning every corner. The Quade patriarch observed the neatly arranged shelves, the perfectly aligned artefacts, and the pristine state of the room. After a few moments, he hummed and nodded, satisfied with what he saw.
"If there is one thing you have inherited from me, boy, it's the way you maintain order and structure in your life," Thomas remarked, his voice carrying a rare note of approval.
Then he looked towards the open trunk. "But that trunk is going to be put away when I leave the room."
"Yes, Father," Jakob acknowledged, placing his hands behind his back and nodding once. He wasn't sure why his father had come. Thomas rarely wasted his time walking from his office to Jakob's room just to talk. If the older man wanted Jakob to do something, he usually sent Susie. This unexpected visit made the young Quade heir a little worried. Was he going to be punished for something? But instead of voicing his concerns, Jakob stood silent, waiting for his father to speak his mind.
"When I learned of your exceptional performance in school, I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised," Thomas began, his voice carrying a note of rare approval."I do, however, expect those three 'E's to become 'O's in the coming year," he continued, his eyes narrowing with a determined gleam. "I'd like nothing more than to witness the look on Lucius' face when he realises whose son is outshining his heir again."
Jakob nodded respectfully. "Yes, Father. I'll do my best, and thank you."
A genuine smile crossed Thomas's face, a sight that took Jakob somewhat by surprise. His father continued,
"I must confess, what your sister said is true, neither her nor I for that matter achieved such grades during our first year at Hogwarts or Ilvermorny. To reward your hard work and to nurture the motivation you've discovered, you will accompany me to an auction this evening."
Jakob's eyebrows shot up, and he couldn't help but smile. "That's would be fantastic, Father. What are you planning to purchase?"
Thomas returned his son's smile with an amused look as he replied, "It's not for me. It's for you, son. But I won't tell you more than that."
The head of the Quade household turned sharply on his heel, his cloak flowing behind him as he strode away.
Jakob stood rooted to the spot, his hands still behind his back, eyes wide with disbelief. The words echoed in his mind, struggling to make sense of what had just transpired. Had his father truly promised him a gift for his academic studies?
Taking a seat on his bed, Jakob closed the trunk with a gentle nudge of his foot, using it as a makeshift footrest. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and knitting his hands together. Maybe coming home wasn't so bad after all.
Suddenly, the door to his room creaked open again, and Jakob looked up to see his sister, Emma, stepping inside. He couldn't help but watch as her light blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, accentuating her striking resemblance to their father, with the same defined jawline. She had grown slightly taller since they last saw each other in winter, her slender yet athletic frame exuding both elegance and strength. Her small curves and modest chest had grown slightly as well, making her look more like a young adult rather than a teenager.
"I heard what Father said, and I can't say I'm not jealous. But you are the favourite, always have been, always will be," Emma remarked, her tone tinged with a hint of resentment.
Jakob scoffed. "Are you serious? Father lets you do whatever you want and actually listens to you. When I try to speak, he hits me with the cane. He even had to approve my unpacking." He gestured around the room. "When has he ever cared about your room? You even leave dishes there."
Emma shook her head, a small chuckle escaping her lips. "With all those O's on your report, and you still don't understand, little pest."
"Understand what?" He asked, confusion and suspicion evident in his eyes.
Emma waved her hand dismissively. "If you can't understand, I won't bother explaining. Hand me that grade parchment; I want to see it again."
Reluctantly, Jakob handed her the paper.
"Holy shit, Jake, you are a nerd!" Emma exclaimed, her less-than-enthusiastic congratulations prompting her little brother to roll his eyes. He reached to retrieve his parchment, but Emma playfully moved it out of his grasp. She turned it over, inspecting the top five list.
"Did you really achieve this, or is everyone in your class an idiot?" she teased.
Jakob chuckled. "You know what, I'm not actually sure."
The older girl smirked and returned the parchment to him, yet a hint of concern lingered in her eyes.
"You've certainly set the bar high, and Father will expect to see improvements. Are you sure you can handle that?"
Jakob nodded confidently. "It wasn't that challenging to attain these grades, and if I just pay attention to Madam Hooch next year, I think I can turn that 'E' into an 'O' at least. I'm rather skilled at flying, you know."
Emma nodded, then pulled her younger brother into a warm embrace. "It's good to have you back, pest."
As she was on the verge of leaving, Emma's gaze caught sight of another parchment on his desk, with the word "club" inscribed upon it. Before Jakob could react, she moved swiftly and snatched it from the desk, immediately beginning to read it.
"Jakob, what is this? Are you going to be helping students twice a week? Why haven't you told us, and who is Hermione Granger?"
"She's just someone," Jakob replied hastily, retrieving the parchment from Emma's grasp before she could gather more information. He discreetly stowed it back in his bag, then quickly closed the trunk with a decisive snap. Turning to look at her, he added, "no one important."
With a sly smirk, Emma strode over to her little brother and draped her arm around his neck, giving him a knowing look. She suspected he was hiding the girl's identity for a reason other than the actual one.
"Well, aren't you a charmer? First, there was that Frome girl, then the Greengrass girl, and now you've found another one? My little brother is quite the popular one," Emma teased.
Jakob shrugged off his sister's arm and replied, "No, it's not like that... it's just-"
"Granger... Granger... I don't know the name. Is her family from outside of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?" Emma interjected thoughtfully.
Jakob nodded. "Yes, she, um, her family comes from somewhere in Europe."
"Just like us, but she doesn't sound German. You should invite her someday. Father would be pleased to meet her parents if they originate closer to our homeland," Emma suggested, raising an eyebrow.
Jakob nodded, trying to appear casual. "Maybe one day. But please, don't tell Father about this. I'm not sure he could handle another Frome situation."
Emma's eyes sparkled with amusement as she gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Of course, little brother. Your secret is safe with me."
With that, she ruffled his hair playfully and started towards the door. As he watched her go, a mixture of relief and anxiety swirled inside him. He knew Emma's promise was sincere, but the thought of Father finding out about Hermione still made the young heir's stomach twist. If Lord Quade met her and discovered her blood status, he would burn Hogwarts and everyone in it to the ground.
As the afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Floo room, Jakob and his father prepared to leave. Dressed in their formal robes, the Quade crest prominently displayed on their left chests. Thomas nudged his son forward, guiding him into the fireplace, then stepped in beside him, ready for their departure.
With a voice that carried the weight of command only Thomas could muster, the Quade head-of-house proclaimed, "Knockturn Alley!"
Just before the emerald flames engulfed them, Jakob shot his father a surprised look, but Thomas stared straight ahead, not meeting his gaze.
The young Quade heir looked forward, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through him as he awaited the emerald flames to die down, eager to step into the darker side of the wizarding world.
As the flames subsided, they found themselves standing in a fire pit within the shadowy depths of Knockturn Alley.
Jakob's eyes widened as he took in the surroundings of Knockturn Alley. The narrow, winding path was lined with crumbling buildings that leaned over the cobblestone street. Their once grand fronts were now marked by peeling paint and boarded-up windows, telling stories of old grandeur and dark dealings.
Unlike the cheerful and busy Diagon Alley, this place was covered in an oppressive gloom. The air was thick with the musty smell of decay and the faint, unsettling scent of strange potions brewing. Shopfronts showed a creepy array of goods: skulls and bones, ancient and cursed artefacts, and jars filled with unidentifiable, grotesque creatures in murky liquid.
Above, dim lanterns flickered weakly, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to move on their own. The scant light barely broke through the darkness, adding to the alley's mysterious charm. Every creak and rustle echoed in the quiet, giving the place a sense of hidden life and whispered secrets.
Jakob felt a surge of excitement as he stood there, the thrill of venturing into this darker territory filling him with eager anticipation, his mind buzzing with curiosity and fascination.
"Come on, son, follow me, and don't talk to anyone here. There are more filths here than in Diagon Alley," Thomas warned, his stern gaze scanning the inhabitants. Many averted their eyes, well aware of who Lord Quade was and what consequences awaited those who showed disrespect.
As his father began to walk, Jakob followed, his observant eyes taking in the unique atmosphere. It was an unusually quiet night, the stillness interrupted only by hushed whispers that seemed to linger like shadows. Amid this ghostly silence, the loudest sound was the rhythmic clicking of Thomas' cane, marking their passage through the street.
The alley was populated by a diverse array of wizards, witches, and other magical beings, all dressed quite differently from those in Diagon Alley.
Their attire was draped in sombre shades of black and grey. Some bore dirt-stained faces, and a few appeared almost malnourished.
Jakob couldn't help but wonder how individuals with the ability to wield magic could have possibly fallen so far, living in conditions worse than house elves.
As the inhabitants of Knockturn Alley spotted the two Quades walking down the cobblestone street, they observed them with a mix of curiosity, caution and jealousy.
"Father, why are they staring at us?" Jakob whispered, his curiosity noticeable.
Thomas furrowed his brow and shifted his gaze to a small group of four Wizards seated near a broken, weathered fountain in the distance. Their envious glares fixated on both himself and his son. With a disapproving growl, Lord Quade raised his wand and uttered a curse unfamiliar to the thirteen-year-old.
With its sickly yellow hue, the spell erupted from his wand and sped toward the group. The man in the middle attempted to raise his wand and open his mouth to counter it, but it was too late. The curse surged into the man's mouth, jolting his head backwards from the impact.
A piercing scream of agony erupted from the victim, and gasps of shock rippled through the others around him. Unknowingly, Jakob had come to a halt, his eyes transfixed on the unfolding scene.
Rushing to his aid, a group of onlookers surrounded the victim, who struggled desperately for each breath. Suddenly, something began to emerge from his mouth, something with spindly insect-like legs. The man's coughs were met with a gush of blood pouring from his mouth while the grotesque creature clawed at the inside of his throat.
Jakob couldn't tear his eyes away as the horrifying spectacle unfolded over several excruciating seconds. He watched in dreadful fascination as the wizard's throat was being torn apart from the inside.
The man could no longer scream, his eyes brimming with horror and exhaustion as he wrestled desperately, only to ultimately fail in expelling the unsettling thing from both his mouth and the ever-expanding hole in his throat.
After a few moments longer, the wizard finally slumped, his life force fading against the backdrop of the fountain.
The others who had tried to save him were shaking, their faces reflecting the sheer horror of witnessing the grotesque insect crawl out and vanish behind a nearby building, leaving a sense of dread in its wake.
"Because, son, they don't recognise their superiors and are unaccustomed to seeing people like us on their streets," Thomas explained. Jakob shifted his attention back to his father, whose keen eyes were closely observing his son's reaction to the unsettling display.
Satisfied that his heir was handling it well—after all, they weren't people, Thomas thought—he turned back to the wary group of wizards. With his voice dripping with disdain, he continued, "Sometimes, it's necessary to remind these filths that their place is beneath our boots."
Jakob noted the sneers and lowered gazes around them, understanding the power his father wielded in this part of the wizarding world. The lesson was clear: power and respect were to be demanded, not given.
They began walking again, not saying a word. They soon approached a run-down house with a simple lantern illuminating its entrance.
"We're here," Thomas announced, opening the door, its bell jingling as he did so.
Jakob stole one more glance at the people outside before crossing the threshold into the house, quickly realising that it was not just a house but also a shop.
It was brimming with books and an assortment of mystical objects. Thomas moved towards the front desk with Jakob following closely, but something abruptly seized the young boy's attention.
A pixie's head was prominently displayed on a spike to the right side of the shop. Intrigued, he leaned in closer, a sense of growing unease creeping over him as he realised that the severed head's eyes appeared to track his every movement.
"Open it," Lord Quade instructed. The elderly man seated behind the desk, absorbed in his newspaper, looked up and respectfully lowered his head upon recognising his visitor. "Of course, Lord Quade, welcome back."
The aged wizard retrieved his wand and elegantly waved it toward the wall. With a soft rumbling, the wall receded and lifted, unveiling a hidden entrance leading to a spiral staircase.
"Come, son," Thomas ordered, striding inside without waiting. Jakob hurried to catch up, his excitement barely contained as they entered the concealed passage.
As the two ascended the spiral staircase, an array of paintings depicting wizards and witches adorned the stone walls. Jakob felt a sense of unease as the portraits gazed at him suspiciously. Suddenly, a tingling sensation prickled his mind as he looked at one of the paintings, feeling its eyes boring into his thoughts. Noticing his son's discomfort, Thomas explained,
"They serve as sentinels, charmed to see through various disguises, spells, and potions, ensuring that no one enters in a form that isn't their true self." Seeing the question lingering in Jakob's eyes, the older man scoffed. "Aurors, those cowards, know they aren't welcome here. They've tried all sorts of ways to sneak in, but they've never succeeded."
Jakob nodded in understanding. Though the paintings may have found the arrival of a teenage wizard unusual, they remained still, deeming him no immediate threat.
Upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, the two Quades found themselves in a surprisingly spacious chamber, a stark contrast to the modest shop above. Jakob's excitement grew as he took in the expansive surroundings.
The vast chamber was adorned with rows of aged, dark wooden chairs, meticulously aligned to face a well-worn stage made of rough-hewn timber. The stage itself bore the scars of time, marred by dark, dried bloodstains and other mysterious marks, hinting at its rough history.
The air was thick with a dense haze of smoke from various pipes and cigars, curling lazily toward the high, shadowed ceiling. Flickering torches mounted on the walls cast a wavering, golden light that danced upon the stone surfaces, creating an oddly cosy ambience despite the unsettling atmosphere.
Father and son took their seats towards the back of the room, and Jakob guessed that it was a strategic move, allowing them to observe the entire gathering without drawing attention to themselves.
As the minutes ticked by, the seats in front of them began to slowly fill. Witches, wizards, and even a few goblins took their places, their murmurs blending into a low hum of anticipation. Jakob glanced around, his eyes darting from one face to another, taking in the diverse and unusual crowd.
There were stern-faced wizards with long, unkempt beards, some exuding an air of nobility and authority, while others appeared more casual. Beside them, witches clad in dark, flowing robes whispered animatedly, their expressions a blend of excitement and suspicion. A group of goblins, their sharp features and beady eyes scanning the room sat together, their short swords and daggers strapped to their belts, and clad in armour.
This made the young Quade heir furrow his brows in confusion. He was well-acquainted with most of the higher-status magical individuals in the wizarding world. Yet, here he was in a room filled with total strangers, meaning his network might not be as extensive as he had believed.
As they settled in, Thomas leaned in and whispered to his son, "Tonight, you will be receiving a house-elf. When you spot one that catches your interest, simply whisper to me, and I will handle the rest. Understood?"
The black-haired boy's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked up at his father to see if he was serious. When the older man showed no sign of humour, Jakob nodded, unable to hide the grin that spread across his face.
Thomas continued, his voice dropping lower, "There will be other items auctioned here. Don't say or act foolishly—just sit quietly and observe. You are my heir, and today, you'll get a glimpse into the real world. The real world isn't a place for the weak; it's about survival. I need you to be prepared for what awaits you when you take my place and what will happen if you fail to assume the role you were born to have."
Jakob nodded, unsure how to respond, but settled on saying, "Yes, father."
Satisfied with the response from his heir, lord Quade nodded and leaned back briefly before remembering something and leaning in again. "What you see tonight must remain confidential. Don't discuss it with your friends, or even with Susie or Emma. Do you understand, boy?"
The Quade heir looked a bit confused but nodded nonetheless. "I promise, Father."
Seeing movement in his peripheral vision, Jakob turned his attention to the stage. A man with an absurdly long moustache, sporting a top hat, made his confident way to the centre. However, as the boy observed him more closely, he couldn't help but notice the man's plump belly, straining the buttons on his tightly-fitted red robe. The man also appeared weary, as if he desperately needed a good rest.
The man on stage opened his arms wide and smiled broadly at the crowd, looking every bit like the host of a grand circus about to begin. "Welcome!" he bellowed, his voice booming across the chamber. The chattering crowd fell instantly silent, their attention fully commanded by his presence.
The man's eyes sparkled with a theatrical flair as he took a dramatic bow, his top hat nearly tumbling off. He straightened up, adjusting his hat with a flourish, and scanned the room, clearly enjoying the captivated faces staring back at him.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests," he continued, his voice now a melodious purr. "Tonight, I have the honour of presenting you with a fresh selection of goods that I am confident will meet your satisfaction. Without further ado, let's commence this bidding with a house-elf!"
The crowd erupted into applause, the sound filling the chamber. Jakob's eyes widened as he saw a small, trembling creature being led onto the stage in chains. The house-elf's wide eyes darted nervously around the room, its tiny frame shivering under the harsh lights. The anticipation in the room was palpable as the auctioneer prepared to start the bidding.
"These, my esteemed witches and wizards, are House Elf number 4376. He's a young male, just two years old. Trained in the basics and eager to learn. Who will start the bidding at 500 Galleons? Do I hear 500? 500 to start?"
Hands shot up, and the man in the extravagant hat spoke rapidly, raising the price with practised ease. Jakob watched, a mix of confusion and excitement in his eyes as the bids flew higher and higher. Ultimately, a witch who bore a striking resemblance to Narcissa Malfoy emerged as the winning bidder.
"Ah, sold for 2,500 Galleons. Congratulations! You may collect your purchase, madam."
The victorious witch approached the stage and roughly grabbed the chain from the man holding it.
She pulled the elf along with her, the chain tugging harshly at the collar around its neck. The small creature struggled to keep up, its steps hurried and uneven.
Jakob noticed a faint, malevolent grin on the witch's face as she briskly exited the room with her newly acquired prize. The sight made him question whether the elf would survive the night.
Thomas leaned closer to his son, a hint of annoyance in his voice as he questioned, "That was a useful elf, boy. Why didn't you consider taking it?"
As Jakob turned his attention away from the woman to meet his father's gaze, he detected that Lord Quade's question went beyond mere curiosity or irritation. It was a test.
"Father, I don't think it would be practical. I won't have the time to properly train it while at Hogwarts. Moreover, I don't believe it would be fair to burden Susie with an almost newborn house elf."
Thomas let out an amused scoff but refrained from further commentary, indicating that his son had passed the test.
"Next up, we have this beautiful grimoire, handwritten by the Dark Lord Grindelwald himself. It's said to contain the personal spells he was working on. I will commence the bidding for this marvellous book at 800 Galleons."
Jakob watched as the bidders battled it out, and in the end, an older rugged man secured the book for 4,000 galleons.
Seeing the greedy expression on the slender man's face as he made his way to collect his prize made Jakob snort.
"What's so amusing, boy?" Thomas inquired in a low voice.
Jakob nodded subtly toward the man who cradled the grimoire in his arms as if it were a precious infant.
"That man won't be able to make much use of that book. It contains spells crafted by a dark lord, and he's nowhere near powerful enough to even attempt them."
Thomas responded with an amused smirk. "There are more ways than one to make use of such a book. Whatever secrets it holds are his to exploit as he sees fit. He might have just acquired a treasure chest."
Jakob shook his head and said, "I doubt that." His father raised an eyebrow, silently prompting him to explain.
"They were experiments, unfinished. Only someone as formidable as Grindelwald could possibly comprehend that information, and that man doesn't fit the bill." Thomas looked at his son thoughtfully, considering the argument.
Jakob added a final point to reinforce his case. "And the auctioneer mentioned that it is said to hold information, implying that even he couldn't open the book. If the auctioneer couldn't, why would that man be able to?"
Lord Quade turned his gaze toward the man who was departing with his newly acquired grimoire.
Thomas considered his son's words for a moment and then shrugged. "You may have a valid point, but you're speaking rather highly of Grindelwald. Be careful with your admiration. Our loyalty lies with our master, even if he is not present at this moment."
Jakob nodded, though he couldn't shake his growing doubt. Each day, Voldemort's teachings seemed more questionable. He had witnessed firsthand that power and knowledge transcended blood status, making him wonder if their service to the Dark Lord was truly justified.
The man on the stage spoke again in a booming voice, pulling Jakob from his silent contemplation. His eyes widened in repulsiveness as he saw the next item up for auction.
A young boy, not more than ten or eleven, stood before the audience, his frame small and frail in the flickering torchlight. His clothes were nothing more than rags, tattered and worn, barely holding together.
Dirt smeared his cheeks and hands, and his unkempt brown hair fell in tangled knots over his forehead.
The boy's wide, fearful eyes darted around the room, taking in the faces staring back at him, a mix of curiosity and disdain etched on their features.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the auctioneer announced, his voice dripping with condescension, "allow me to present a Mudblood runaway, a young soul who escaped a wretched orphanage only to find refuge in our welcoming embrace."
Laughter and hushed conversations rippled through the audience, the room buzzing with a cruel sense of amusement. The boy flinched at the term 'Mudblood,' the insult cutting through him even as he tried to stand tall.
"This boy hasn't been given a wand and hasn't been granted the gift of magic through education. If you want him to learn, that responsibility falls on your shoulders. Let us begin the bidding at 250 galleons," the auctioneer proclaimed, his voice echoing off the ornate walls.
Jakob cast a concerned glance at the slave boy, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the boy's pitiful state.
"Father, what will happen to him?"
Thomas ignored Jakob's query, his gaze fixed intently on the stage. This left Jakob with only one option: to watch the unfolding events with a mix of disdain and dread as the crowd buzzed with excitement. Three potential buyers raised their hands vigorously, eager to make their bids.
One of the bidders, a repulsive, obese man with a sinister gleam in his eye, seemed disturbingly eager to obtain the boy. His crooked grin made Jakob's skin crawl, and he silently hoped that the woman bidding against him, a neutral-looking lady, would win instead.
The bids climbed higher and higher, the auctioneer's voice growing more animated with each new offer. Finally, with a sharp rap of his gavel, the auctioneer proclaimed, "Sold, for 1200 galleons to the gentleman in the back!"
Jakob's heart sank as he saw the repulsive man step forward, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. With a jarring yank, he pulled the chain attached to a collar around the boy's neck. The boy on the stage, now condemned to an uncertain fate, looked even smaller and more vulnerable as he was roughly pulled down from the stage and led away. Jakob's stomach churned at the sight.
He couldn't help but feel sympathy for the unfortunate boy, recognising the cruel destiny that had been sealed for him in this auction.
It was a fate he wouldn't wish upon even his worst enemy. But he couldn't do anything more than watch as the boy and the man departed, silently hoping for the boy to die sooner rather than later.
As the bidding continued, Jakob witnessed various items go up for auction. Books with cracked spines and ancient scripts, intricately carved furniture imbued with dark magic, cursed objects, and even wands of questionable origin changed hands amid the frenzied bids. Each item seemed to carry a history of its own.
Jakob felt a wave of relief wash over him as no more children were brought to the stage. The auctioneer's gavel struck the podium repeatedly, each sharp crack marking the sale of another item.
Then, finally, the item the two Quade members had been waiting for appeared on the stage.
"Here we have a house elf named 4234. She is a female and five years of age. Her previous master has recently passed away, and she hasn't been provided with clothing, making her an unspoiled gem."
After a quick assessment of the female elf, Jakob leaned over to whisper to his father, and Thomas nodded in approval."The starting price is 600 galleons," the auctioneer announced, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.
Thomas raised his wand, confidently entering the bidding, making many others in the room realize they had slim chances of winning the auction. However, one determined man decided to challenge Lord Quade, setting off a fierce competition.
Thomas and the man a few rows ahead engaged in a relentless back-and-forth of wands, each raising the stakes higher. Jakob couldn't help but notice that the opposing bidder remained unfazed as the price steadily climbed.
The onlookers seemed reluctant to participate further as the galleons reached the 2000 mark. Yet, the opposing bidder continued his relentless pursuit, his sly smirk never fading.
A hint of frustration was now evident on Lord Quade's face as the price continued to rise. The tension in the room was evident, the air thick with anticipation and the murmurs of the audience growing louder with each bid.
Finally, Thomas emerged as the victor, but the house elf had come at a considerable cost of 6500 galleons. The auctioneer's voice pierced the tension, declaring, "What an intriguing bidding war. Well, the winner may come forward to claim their prize."
Jakob felt a subtle nudge from his father, encouraging him to rise. He approached the trembling house elf and extended his hand. Her large, fearful eyes darted between Jakob and Thomas, hesitating before she cautiously reached for Jakob's outstretched hand. As he felt her hand trembling in his, he offered a warm smile and a reassuring wink. Gradually, her shaking subsided, and her long ears perked up slightly, a glimmer of trust appearing in her eyes.
When they exited the building, Lord Quade ushered his son and the house elf across the cobblestone street, stopping in front of a shadowy store. Jakob couldn't help but notice his father's growing irritation. "Father, what's wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. Lord Quade's jaw tightened as he glanced back at the auction hall, a frown creasing his brow.
"That man who counterbid me. Why are we waiting for him?" Lord Quade muttered, his eyes scanning the street with growing irritation.
Jakob thought for a moment, trying to piece the puzzle together. He understood that 6,500 galleons held little significance for his father. Lord Quade's frustration stemmed from the man's behaviour rather than the sum expended.
"I couldn't help but notice," Jakob began cautiously, "that the man didn't seem particularly bothered when the price increased, and when he eventually lost, he didn't appear very disappointed either." As he uttered the last sentence, realization struck him, and his eyes widened. " Father, do you think it was planned?"
Thomas cast a sidelong glance at his heir, acknowledging his observation. "You have a keen eye, son. Use it wisely in the future; there will always be those trying to leech off our house's riches." The thirteen-year-old boy nodded, fully grasping his father's point.
As if pre-determined, the old man and the rest of the auction attendees began to exit the building, each going their separate ways.
An almost feral smirk crept across Thomas's face as he observed the man. "And how should we handle those who disrespect our house in such a manner?" he posed rhetorically, his voice low and menacing.
Before Jakob could respond, the older man rounded a corner, and Thomas spoke in a firm, short voice. "Stay here until I return."
Jakob, still holding his trembling house elf's hand, nodded silently and watched as his father discreetly drew his wand. Thomas began to follow the man, glancing around before turning the same corner.
Out of sight, Jakob could hear his father's voice and the desperate cries of the stranger.
"No. Please, it wasn't just me... It was all Ivan's idea. I-"
"You will serve as a warning. Avada..."
A vivid green light illuminated the alley, causing both Jakob and the elf to flinch. His heart pounded in his chest as the eerie glow briefly painted the walls. As the light faded, rain began to fall slowly, the droplets tapping softly on the cobblestones.
Jakob knew exactly what his father had just done.
After a brief moment, Thomas reappeared, securing his wand back into his robes. He reached out, taking Jakob's hand, and with a swift turn on the spot, the three of them apparated back to the safety of their home.
Outside the gate, Thomas looked down at his son, surprise evident when his heir showed no signs of shock or fear. Had his son witnessed death before? Or was he simply displaying the true nature of a Quade?
"If we permit people to disrespect us, no matter how minor it may seem, they will soon exploit our vulnerabilities, my son. They are nothing but scum, the filth of our world, attempting to seize what rightfully belongs to us. Consider this a lesson."
Before he could continue, Jakob responded with a firm tone. "If someone tries to take what is mine, I will ensure they regret it before I destroy them and everything they care about."
Thomas was taken aback, finally hearing his son speak like a true Quade. He lowered himself to Jakob's height, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "That's right. Stay true to those words, and I will one day die knowing that my house is in good hands."
With that, Lord Quade released his son, and together they walked inside the manor, accompanied by their new house elf.
Author's Note 2: I've received a review that I'd like to address. To Dissonance: Thank you for the kind and awesome review! I even showed it off to my family. It made me laugh and truly brightened my day. I hope you'll continue to join us on this journey. Thank you again!
Cheers everyone:)