Avery hadn't expected Malfoy to refuse so bluntly. He immediately spoke in dissatisfaction.
"Are you really going to bow and scrape before a Mudblood? I heard he's already gotten in touch with Fudge!"
A Muggle-born meddling in the affairs of the Ministry of Magic was something they could never tolerate. Though a Muggle-born Minister—Nobby Leach—had once existed, everyone knew he'd merely been a puppet, a mascot. Later, he'd been forced to resign thanks to Abraxas Malfoy's interference.
Even so, the incident had caused many Wizengamot members to resign from their Ministry positions in protest.
Pure-blood prejudice against Muggles ran deep—deeper than most dared admit.
But Lucius Malfoy didn't care.
"What if you fail?" he said coldly. "Don't forget—my son is still studying at Hogwarts!"
Avery let out a sharp laugh. "Your son?"
"I never thought you'd grow so cowardly. If our Master knew about this, he'd be very disappointed in you!"
The mention of Voldemort put pressure on Malfoy—an instinctive fear that ran bone-deep. Even after the Dark Lord's disappearance a decade ago, that terror still lingered.
But at the same time, he found it laughable that Avery would invoke Voldemort now.
They still dared to call him "the Master"? And yet, when the Ministry came after them, every one of these cowards had hidden behind the excuse of being "under the Imperius Curse." Not one of them had lifted a finger to find the Dark Lord since.
They were all traitors, every single one of them. The truly loyal Death Eaters were rotting in Azkaban for life.
And if Voldemort ever did return one day, none of these turncoats would escape punishment.
Besides, Voldemort had always trusted the Malfoys more than any of them—after all, he'd entrusted one of his Horcruxes to Lucius himself.
Lucius showed them all out with icy politeness. Just as the last one left, Narcissa entered, cradling her Kneazle in her arms.
"Where's Draco?"
"In the garden—playing with that… Ekans."
Lucius nodded. "Good. Don't let him hear about this."
"Do you think they'll succeed?" Narcissa asked softly. "Maybe we should warn that Mr. Gold."
She was worried—worried Draco might face consequences at school if things went wrong.
But Lucius shook his head. Placing a bet too early was far too risky. What if the Dark Lord did return? Voldemort had shown him more than once how far he'd gone down the path of immortality.
He couldn't risk getting too close to a Muggle-born, not now.
"If they succeed, so much the better. If they fail, it has nothing to do with me."
On the other side, Avery and the others left Malfoy Manor in fury. With Lucius unwilling to join them, they could do nothing but curse him under their breath—calling him a useless coward, an egg with no yolk.
"What now? Are we just going to give up this chance?" asked Dolohov impatiently.
"Give up? Not a chance!" Avery's eyes glinted with murderous intent. "If Malfoy won't help, we'll handle it ourselves! That Mudblood has to die!"
Just thinking of his humiliation a few months ago made Avery's blood boil. There was no way he'd ever let Charles Gold walk away alive.
"My informant's been watching him since he boarded that train. Once he gets off, we'll strike immediately," Avery said.
"But his destination seems to be the Soviet Union… things are chaotic there now. And honestly, Malfoy's worries aren't unfounded. What if we fail?" someone in the group muttered nervously.
Even among the pure-bloods, many weren't from the sacred Twenty-Eight families. The fact that even the Malfoys had pulled back made a few of them hesitate.
Avery's gaze turned cold and venomous, fixing on the speaker until the man flinched.
"You cowards!" he barked."Last time, we couldn't use the Unforgivable Curses because there were witnesses. But this time—who's going to stop us?"
He spoke louder, face twisting with rage.
When it came to big melons, everyone was equal. No matter how strong that Mudblood thought he was—could he survive a Killing Curse head-on?
(Charles, glancing at his Illusion ability: "I was just eating melon seeds, why does this always happen to me?")
Avery sneered. "If he's really headed to the Soviet Union, that only makes it easier for us. The more chaos, the better. After all—if he's killed by Soviet wizards, what does that have to do with us?"
He already had a plan for deflecting blame. All he needed to do was use a spare wand when the time came.
"If you're still nervous," Avery added seriously, "just spend some Galleons—hire dark wizards or werewolves. Spending a bit of money isn't shameful!"
At that, the others relaxed. It sounded foolproof—send a few expendable dark wizards from Knockturn Alley as cannon fodder, then strike from behind with the Killing Curse.
And Knockturn Alley had plenty of filthy, desperate wizards for hire.
In the entire history of the wizarding world, only one person had ever survived the Killing Curse—Harry Potter. And Harry Potter was one of a kind.
"So, you're Professor Charles Gold?"
On the train, a stunning woman asked in surprise.
"You know me?" Charles blinked. He might have some fame in Britain's wizarding world, but across Europe? Hardly.
"I'm a teacher at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic," the woman said brightly in somewhat awkward English. "I'd heard Hogwarts added a new course this year—I just didn't expect to meet you here. And my, you're so young."
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was a French wizarding school, one of the three that participated in the Triwizard Tournament in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The film had portrayed it as an all-girls school, though that wasn't actually true.
The moment Charles heard the name "Beauxbatons," his interest was piqued—not because of the pretty girls, but because he'd been dreaming of hosting a Pokémon League-style tournament between multiple magic schools.
A true international competition—that's what would deserve the title of "Pokémon League Championship!"
And his ambitions didn't stop with Beauxbatons. He wanted Durmstrang Institute, Castelobruxo, Koldovstoretz, Ilvermorny, Mahoutokoro, and Uagadou involved too.
Ideally, each region would host its own league—and then, together, they'd form a world championship.
Just picturing it made him a little excited.
He quickly struck up a lively conversation with the woman, who introduced herself as Leonie, a German witch currently teaching Ancient Runes at Beauxbatons.
(End of Chapter)