Chapter 115: Seraphina
Georgia, Savannah.
Grevis Manor.
The trimmed lawn emitted a unique fresh scent mixed with soil and grass juice, goblins shrinking under pits and stones, revealing two eyes that darted around, sizing up the heir of the Grevis Family not far away.
Picquery Grevis, two months shy of 15, about to enter fifth year in the second half of the year, dressed in a sharp black suit, hair combed neatly and slicked with shine, unclear how much mousse hair oil was used, looking like even a bowtruckle couldn’t climb up.
His brows were furrowed at the moment, his gaze deep.
This heir was worrying over the Iron Armor Charm; he’d been practicing since summer vacation, nearly a month and a half now, but still no progress, succeeding only two or three times out of ten, and even then it could only block minor hexes from peers his age.
You know, that senior Lavent in fifth year already had duelling prowess rivaling professors, unbeatable among the students.
“Sigh…”
At this rate, how could he revitalize the family, make the Grevis name shine again in the Ministry of Magic?
A faint vibration came from the lawn; another wizard was approaching, and the goblin hiding in the pit shrank its head.
The slight sound of footsteps crushing grass approached; it was a witch in a black-and-white pinafore dress, also a soon-to-be fifth year student. She jogged over, slightly out of breath: “Picquery, why are you still here daydreaming?! The banquet is nearly ready, Headmaster Fontana and Mr. Lavent are almost here; Grandmother says to hurry and prepare to greet the guests.”
Picquery’s eyes lit up at the guests’ names, but he also felt some trepidation, saying softly: “My Iron Armor Charm isn’t mastered yet; maybe I just skip tonight’s banquet, say I have a stomachache, how about that, Nancy?”
Nancy laughed in exasperation, grabbed his arm, and dragged him toward the castle: “If you really do that, I don’t know if your stomach will hurt, but your legs probably will! Hurt until school starts!”
Picquery’s mind couldn’t turn it around, asking blankly: “Why?”
Nancy lightly kicked his calf, saying irritably: “Beaten broken by your grandmother!”
The young students’ playful bickering carried on the wind to the terrace of the second-floor living room, where two students were waiting for them to come up, immediately hearing a familiar voice tease: “Picquery, don’t worry, a broken leg isn’t serious for a wizard; it’ll heal in one night, won’t hurt until school starts.”
The two students looked up abruptly, seeing Melvin no longer in school robes tied with Gordy’s Knot, feeling somewhat unfamiliar at first, not recognizing him immediately, but after a few glances widened their eyes in surprise and shouted: “Melvin! Aegil!”
Fellow Horned Serpent House students, Melvin could be called their idol, the goal they strove and chased after.
Before he dropped out, he firmly held first in year; aside from Quidditch matches, his champion trophies from various duelling, Transfiguration, and Defence Against the Dark Arts competitions were enough for a whole shelf in the display of awards.
After he dropped out these past two years, Horned Serpent House couldn’t hold onto those honors, soon taken by Thunderbird House.
Though they knew in advance about tonight’s guests, actually seeing this legendary senior again, the two couldn’t help but feel excited.
“Long time no see.”
Melvin nodded and smiled at the two; actually, his impression of Picquery Grevis wasn’t deep, only remembering he was the son of the Deputy Head of the Auror’s Office; mainly the Nancy Butt beside him, she was a descendant of the Butt Brothers, you know, those Butt Brothers who were the adopted sons of founder Isolt Sayre.
Horned Serpent often mentioned the stupid things her ancestors did while learning magic.
Butt and Picquery were on very good terms; in America’s wizarding family circles, they were already a pre-locked marriage alliance. Wizards with keen eyes could foresee that the weakening Grevis Family in recent years would leverage the vast resources behind Butt to return to the power center of the Ministry of Magic.
Poor Auror deputy head, struggled half his life, couldn’t match his son dating.
Wonder what Mr. Grevis, who was working overtime, would think?
The two at the door got tapped on the head with a wand, one each; an elderly black witch with graying hair walked in, scolding softly: “Greet them properly!”
The two obediently responded: “Headmaster Fontana, Mr. Lavent.”
Headmaster Fontana nodded with a genial smile, greeting the black witch: “Madam Picquery.”
Melvin nodded in greeting: “Madam Picquery.”
The lady’s loose skin sagged, forming many deep wrinkles, but between her shriveled and sunken forehead remained a coiled authority.
Seraphina Picquery, the previous student recognized by all four house statues, entered Ministry of Magic service after graduation, served as President of the American Ministry of Magic in 1920 for 8 years, once joined Scamander to thwart Grindelwald and the Cabal, foiling their plot to break the Secrecy Law.
Besides that were some scattered achievements, like stopping Prohibition, perfecting the Magical Creatures protection bill, and such.
British wizards’ knowledge of this foreign witch government head basically came from Rita Skeeter’s biography on Newt Scamander, 《Man or Beast? Newt Scamander’s True Face》, which wrote that Newt was a heartbreaking love scammer, had a fling with her, then fell for another and left her far behind.
Fortunately, this biography only circulated in Britain; Madam Picquery probably hadn’t read the relevant passages, or else the beetle reporter miss would likely have vanished without a trace.
You know, this black witch wasn’t as kindly as she looked; her wand was made by Violette Beauvais, hawthorn from wetland summer flower, containing a wetland werewolf hair core, with a thirst for Dark Magic like blood to a vampire.
Her extremely brief term revealed some governing experience; despite the feat of defeating Grindelwald, her shrewd and tough political style offended many, not very friendly to colleagues, rarely showing a relaxed amiable side, leading most not to like her.
The abrupt visit before leaving Ilvermorny was mainly led by Headmaster Fontana; after all, the Grevis Family was one of his old friends.
After simple greetings and a few minutes of small talk and catching up, the group moved to the restaurant, enjoying the banquet while discussing serious matters.
“Mr. Lavent.”
Seraphina sat at the head of the long table, speaking slowly: “I’ve heard your name very early; admitted with recognition from all four statues, outstanding grades, powerful strength—we all thought you might, like me, enter the Ministry of Magic after graduation, even become the next president; didn’t expect…”
“Life is like magic; even identical spells and motions can produce completely different effects.”
Melvin steadily cut the steak on his platter, “My aspirations aren’t in Ministry seats; compared to power and politics, the mysteries of magic are far more attractive.”
Seraphina observed him seriously, her movements with the slowness typical of the elderly; only after a long while did she nod thoughtfully: “Truly admirable…”
She withdrew her gaze, looking to the headmaster beside her: “The Purifiers and New Salem matter, we’ve been investigating since decades ago. The Barrybone surname traces earliest to a Purifier wizard in the 17th century; he disguised his identity, married several Muggles, had over a dozen children…”
Grevis was one of Barrybone’s bitter victims; the family’s overall decline, Seraphina’s brief term, being replaced in her prime, were all influenced by that Mary Barrybone of the New Salem Philanthropic Society.
While in office she used Ministry of Magic resources to investigate, didn’t relax after stepping down, used family power to pursue, and over the years had some results.
Wonder if it was fate’s mischief or a curse from early wizard murders; that original Purifier Barrybone’s bloodline were all Muggles and Muggle-borns.
Those second-generation Barrybones watched the fantastical wizarding world helplessly unable to touch it; the intense disparity led to psychological twists, plus Barrybone’s deliberate guidance, making them hate wizards and the Ministry of Magic.
Hate they did, but that era the Ministry of Magic was newly founded, purging Dark Wizards with hardline attitudes and methods; these people could only lie low.
After the first Barrybone wizard died, the Secrecy Law gradually perfected; third- and fourth-generation Barrybones hadn’t seen magic, only a few inheriting the second generation’s twisted hatred.
If smoothly developed, Barrybone descendants would gradually forget magic, treating it as fantastical stories left by ancestors. But then Bartholomew Barrybone met witch Twelve Trees, got all the wizarding world’s intelligence at the time, leading to the Ministry of Magic’s biggest leak case.
Ministry of Magic sent staff with Obliviate to wipe memories; when erasing Bartholomew’s, met fierce resistance, even attempted to kill the Obliviator, finally imprisoned for firing a gun in public.
And Mary is Bartholomew’s descendant, also one of the memory wipe oversights, believing Bartholomew’s tragic imprisonment and wrongful death was wizard murder, founded the New Salem Philanthropic Society, causing the later events.
“The Barrybone who stole the dragon egg might be a descendant Mary hid back then, or a child she adopted; a Muggle, currently only traced to hiding in Mexico, adopted a batch of magical children, even used ancestral records to deceive an Ilvermorny graduate into teaching the children magic, while brainwashing and controlling them in secret…”
Seraphina shook her head, sighed: “Muggle war methods, twisted thoughts instilled from childhood, more potent than a wizard’s Imperius Curse.”
No wonder it could make wizards guard the Unbreakable Vow at the cost of life; this level of mind control even surpassed Voldemort and Grindelwald.
Melvin’s thoughts were complex too, saying softly: “Making wizards face Muggles, understand modern science—that’s the meaning of Muggle Studies.”
Headmaster Fontana sighed: “Ilvermorny has no Book of Admissions or Acceptance Quill, can’t precisely admit every witch or wizard child on this continent, so Barrybone found a loophole.”
The dining table fell silent for a moment.
Picquery and Butt listened to the elders and big shots discuss such topics, completely unable to chime in, could only eat silently, afraid to disturb the conversation, carefully avoiding clinking cutlery.
“Has the Ministry of Magic tracked their location?” Melvin asked.
Seraphina shook her head: “That place in Mexico, Muggle society is more chaotic than the wizarding world; Dark Wizards hide their wands and blend into residential areas—even sending all Aurors couldn’t cover it.”
Melvin frowned: “So, we can only wait for them to surface later, then find ways to pursue?”
“They must procure magical materials regularly; as long as we fortify wizard markets near Mexico, we’ll eventually lock their position.” Seraphina’s tone showed some ruthlessness, “As long as we lock the position…”
Picquery and Nancy at the foot of the table shivered, heads buried in their platters, exchanging a glance.
Is this news we can hear?
The long table fell silent again; the truth investigation was clear, but capture stalled; Melvin had no good ideas, and as a key Ministry of Magic monitored subject, he couldn’t intervene anyway.
Could only wish some deputy head a smooth promotion.
The Barrybone matter paused here for now; this banquet’s aperitif and appetizers concluded, next the main course.
“No more talk of those scum.”
Seraphina put away her ruthlessness, looked to the young professor, smiled mildly: “Mr. Lavent, I hear you’ve founded a Magic Mirror Club, business booming in Britain and Romania; interested in developing here?”
Melvin immediately smiled: “The Magic Mirror Club welcomes new partners.”
Projection Mirrors covered wider, greater profits, deeper influence.
Grevis as an American native wizarding family, though weakened in recent decades, still had deep foundations, ample wealth; the one before him a former Ministry president, deep networks and resources, well-informed—simply an ideal partner.
Of course there were downsides; compared to Britain’s loose tavern owners alliance, the Grevis Family was hard to negotiate with.
Melvin sipped red wine, pondered and weighed, stated the Magic Mirror Club’s terms: “…If needed, all projection mirrors must cooperate with the club for specific content promotion screenings… Anyone can produce programs, but projection mirror content final scrutiny must be fully under my responsibility.”
Seraphina frowned at the young professor; based on gathered intel, projection mirror profits were indeed rich—this Mr. Lavent as club owner had the right to state terms, but for the Grevis Family, or rather her Picquery, still preferred full control and dominance.
The club’s terms were a bit too harsh.
After cautious thought, this elderly witch had her conclusion; compared to short-term profits, dominant control was more important: “Mr. Lavent, I hope you reconsider carefully; Grevis participates in tavern management in 34 states, can promote projection mirrors to wizard settlements nationwide in short time—if the club’s terms loosen a bit, we’re willing to cede part of the profit sharing.”
Melvin barely thought, just seconds, smiled and shook his head: “The club is a whole; same terms in Britain and Romania—if yielding to Grevis, that betrays past partners.”
Wealth and profits, he actually didn’t care about.
Anyway, it was profit either way, while content was the path to magic’s ultimate mysteries.
Seraphina was somewhat displeased, lowered her eyes, her aged voice hoarse: “The boost Grevis brings the club will far exceed other wizards; perhaps professor you can go back and reconsider.”
This meant negotiations broken.
“I will.” Melvin nodded slightly, didn’t say anything like no need to consider.
Candlelight flickered on the dining table; Headmaster Fontana savored his veal steak, smiling.
