"Allow me to introduce," Headmaster Blaise began, gesturing toward the sharp-dressed man before them, "Bran Ravenclaw—the youngest Adjudicator of The Clock Tower, a distinguished alumnus of Excalibur Academy, and the former Visionary of House Ventus."
His piercing blue gaze shifted to Rowena, softening only slightly. "And, as you all know by now, Miss Ravenclaw's elder brother."
"Rowena," Bran greeted her coolly, his tone devoid of warmth. "Now do you understand why us Ravenclaws have always kept our distance from Congregation business?" He stepped forward, shaking his head as his green eyes bore into hers. "I must say, I'm thoroughly disappointed in you."
Rowena flinched as though struck, her sapphire eyes glistening with unshed tears as she averted her gaze to the floor.
"Mister Ravenclaw," Godric interjected, stepping forward. "If you're going to blame someone, blame me. Rowena—"
"For your sake, Mister Gryffindor," Bran interrupted sharply, his gaze snapping to Godric, "I suggest you hold your tongue. You've already said enough." His tone cut like ice, silencing the boy. "Yes, I am aware this mess is not entirely Rowena's fault, but the fact remains that she willingly dove headfirst into this debacle. Foolishness does not exempt her from the consequences she now faces."
His piercing gaze swept over the group. "The same consequences that await each and every one of you."
Bran inhaled deeply, steadying himself before continuing. "Let me make one thing clear. While the Congregation may wield considerable influence within these walls, they are not the ultimate authority. That lies with the Three Bodies and the Wizarding Council. The Old Laws may be binding, but they do not override the bylaws of Avalon." His voice was firm, resolute. "Not only have you assaulted Mister Dryfus, but you've caused him grievous bodily harm."
"If I may," Salazar interjected smoothly, his expression neutral but his tone sharp, "Volg Dryfus is hardly an innocent party in this situation. I trust that The Authority will investigate the dubious means by which he acquired Raine."
Bran turned to him. His gaze unflinching. "Rest assured, Mister Slytherin, Dryfus' actions will be scrutinized thoroughly. We are already collaborating with The Authority to ensure that justice is served." He straightened. "But let me be clear: this is not about Mister Dryfus' crimes. This is about yours."
"And as you know, I am an Adjudicator, which means my duties lie in arbitration on behalf of The Clock Tower," Bran said, his tone clipped and measured. "And despite the current circumstances, I'm afraid your fate is tied to that of another."
The four exchanged uneasy glances, confusion etched across their faces. From behind Bran, another figure stepped forward. His blonde hair, artfully styled into sharp spikes, gleamed under the light. A tailored beige suit hugged his well-defined frame, paired with a lavender shirt beneath and a black overcoat trimmed with fur at the collar. His piercing blue eyes swept over them, cold and assessing, his expression unreadable but undeniably commanding.
"Allow me to introduce the aggrieved party," Bran continued, gesturing to the newcomer. "Mister Laxus Dryfus—head of the Dryfus Trading Company, esteemed alumnus of Excalibur Academy, and former Visionary of House Ignis." He let the introduction hang for a moment before adding, "Though, in this instance, you might recognize him better as Mister Volg's—"
Godric's crimson eyes narrowed, recognition sparking in his gaze. "Brother…" he said. "You're Volg's older brother."
"In the flesh," Laxus replied, his lips curling into a faint smirk. He regarded the group with an air of superiority, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. "So, this is the Gryffindor I've heard so much about," he remarked, his eyes appraising Godric. "I must say, you're a bit shorter than I expected."
Godric bristled, but before he could reply, Bran interjected. "Mister Dryfus is here today to determine," he paused for effect, "whether or not he wishes to press charges against the four of you."
"Charges?" Helga repeated, her amber eyes narrowing. "What do you mean charges?"
"For the assault and grievous bodily harm inflicted upon Volg Dryfus." Bran confirmed. "Should Mister Dryfus decide follow through, the Tower will have no choice but to pursue legal action against you."
"Charges… against… us?" Godric's shock quickly turning to anger. His hands balled into fists, and he took a step forward, only to be held back by Salazar and Rowena. "Against us?" he spat. "You dare to stand here and talk about pressing charges against us, after everything Volg has done?"
Laxus's smirk faded slightly as Godric's cried out. "You let that vicious bastard you call a brother loose in this school to torment and prey on anyone he deemed beneath him!" Godric snarled.
"He tried to sell the woman I love to the Mills like she was nothing more than livestock, and now you have the audacity to think you're the one with grievances? You think we're the ones who need to answer for what's happened?"
The man smirk returned, a soft staggered chuckle escaping him as he drew a sharp breath. "I see my little brother left quite the impression on you." He swept his gaze over the four of them. "All of you. Though, I must admit, it's disappointing. I expected the famed Lion of Ignis to have a bit more… composure."
"And you're not the noble paragon of virtue everyone raves about, so I guess disappointment runs both ways!" Godric snapped. "Your brother has done nothing but terrorize this school, abusing and tormenting others under the banner of The Calishans—your Clan!"
He continued, his crimson eyes burning with fury. "He's tried to destroy lives, and here you are, standing in his shadow, defending his vile actions? As far as I'm concerned, that makes you just as guilty, if not worse!"
"And that gave you the right to maim him, Gryffindor?" Laxus asked, his piercing blue eyes boring into Godric. "Not only did you take his arm, but you ran him through like a common boar. Stuck him like a pig for slaughter." He shook his head, letting out a derisive scoff. "I've been part of The Congregation, and I know the Old Laws and the Old Ways better than most. I've engaged in more than my share of Bellum Inter Duos," he said, his tone growing sharper.
"But as Mister Ravenclaw aptly pointed out, the Old Laws are nothing more than relics, holding no precedent over the bylaws of Avalon. Just a bunch of silly children clinging to archaic nonsense, pretending their games have meaning."
"Careful, Dryfus," Salazar interjected, his emerald eyes narrowing dangerously. "As a former chair of the High Table, you should know better than to insult the Old Laws so brazenly. The consequences of such hubris are often severe." He folded his arms. "And I must say, I see where Volg learned his knack for twisting rules to serve his own ends. He clearly had an excellent teacher."
"Call it whatever you like," Helga snapped, her amber eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. "Your brother and his lackeys got exactly what they deserved. He knowingly bought stolen property, plotted to sell Raine off like she was nothing, and hid behind laws he abused like the spineless coward that he is."
She raised her hand, curling her fingers into a fist, the sharp crack of her knuckles echoing in the tense air. "We did what we had to, and honestly? He got off easy. Godric showed restraint—me? Not so much."
Laxus's smirk faded, his expression darkening. "And yet, here we stand, facing the fallout of your actions. My presence here isn't about morality or fairness, Miss Hufflepuff. It's about what happens next. The consequences are real, and they rest in my hands."
Rowena sapphire eyes narrowed. "So, this is about power, then? You're here to make examples of us." She shook her head, disappointment laced in her words. "I thought you were different, Laxus. I defended you. I believed you might be better than this." Her gaze hardened. "But Salazar was right all along—you're just another Dryfus, through and through."
Salazar let out a low chuckle, folding his arms. "One of those rare times I hate being proven right."
Bran raised a hand, silencing the room. "Enough." His tone was clipped. "This isn't a debate. The decision lies with Mister Dryfus."
Godric's teeth clenched, his crimson eyes locked onto Laxus. "Go on, then!" he snarled. "Press your charges, drag us before a Magister, and have us hauled off to Revel's End. Lock us away and throw away the key if it makes you feel powerful." He jabbed a finger in Laxus's direction. "But all it will prove is that you and Volg are cut from the same rotten cloth. Filth. Cowards. Unworthy of the power you cling to."
He scoffed. "So go ahead—show the world who you really are. Or are you too spineless to clean up the mess your precious little brother left behind?"
Laxus raised a hand, his tone smooth. "A question—well, more of a proposition," he began, his sharp blue eyes shifting to Rowena, Salazar, and Helga. "I know you three were dragged into this chaos. So, tell me, were you coerced? Pressured into this madness by Mister Gryffindor? Say the word, and perhaps I could be persuaded to—"
"Stop. Right. There." Salazar's emerald gaze narrowed into a deadly glare. His tone dripped with quiet menace. "Not another word. If you think for a second that any of us would betray Godric to save our own skins, then you're sorely mistaken."
"And let me make this absolutely clear. I'm aware of the repercussions of threatening a man in front of an Adjudicator of the Clock Tower. But if you dare suggest such a disgraceful proposition again…" Salazar leaned in slightly, his smirk cold and sharp. "I won't be held accountable for what happens next. What we will do next."
Helga cracked her knuckles audibly. Rowena, standing beside her, fixed Laxus with an icy glare, her sapphire eyes glinting with sharp defiance.
Laxus tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Very well, one more question before I decide," he said, leaning in slightly. "If you could go back and undo all of this—every strike, every decision—would you still be foolish enough to do it all over again?"
"For Raine?" Godric squared his shoulders, standing tall despite his injuries. "Without question." He paused, the air around him growing heavier. "My only regret?" He barred his teeth. "Is that I didn't go for the head."
The room fell into stunned silence. Helga, Rowena, and Salazar all exchanged wide-eyed looks, while even Bran's usually implacable expression flickered with shock. Laxus's lips tightened into a thin line as he studied Godric's resolute stare.
There was a brief pause before Laxus began to chuckle softly, the sound growing louder until he threw his head back in full, booming laughter. He clutched his stomach as he doubled over, slapping Bran on the shoulder. Bran's lips curled into a faint, amused smile, and even Headmaster Blaise's stoic demeanor softened slightly. Meanwhile, Godric and his friends exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to make of the sudden shift.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Laxus straightened, the grin still tugging at his lips. "Damn, boy," he said. "You wear the flames of Ignis with a pride I haven't seen in years. The fire inside you—it puts even mine to shame."
He drew a deep breath, turning toward Bran with a decisive nod. "I'd like to drop all charges against Mister Gryffindor and his companions. As far as I'm concerned, they've done no wrong."
"Wait… what?" Godric's eyes widened, his jaw slack with disbelief.
"Gryffindor… Godric," Laxus began, his tone shifting to one of solemn sincerity. "No words can express how deeply sorry I am for everything my brother has done. The pain, the cruelty, the sheer misery he inflicted upon you, upon this school, and upon your beloved." He bowed his head deeply. "I apologize. His misdeeds rest upon my shoulders, and I will take full responsibility for all that has transpired."
Laxus straightened and shrugged slightly, his expression heavy. "Volg has always been… a troubled boy," he admitted. "Our father favored me, and as a result, Volg grew to resent me deeply. I tried to make peace, to guide him, to help him find a better path, but…" He trailed off. "I failed to see the depth of the darkness that had taken root inside him."
He turned his gaze back to Godric, his blue eyes piercing but devoid of malice. "There's no excusing his actions—none of it. I can never undo the damage he's caused, but I can make certain that he faces the consequences he's avoided his entire life. You have my word on that."
For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Laxus's words settling over them like a heavy blanket. Godric's friends looked to him, waiting for his response.
Godric hesitated. "What… what will happen to Volg?" The question hung heavy in the air.
Laxus let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "Honestly? I don't know. He made a deal with a rather notorious figure for your Therianthrope companion. A deal he couldn't deliver on, and in our world, failing to fulfill a contract often comes with… severe penalties."
"I'm no expert on the slave trade," Salazar interjected, his emerald eyes narrowing, "but even I know that breaking a deal with certain parties carries a price. One far greater than he can afford to pay."
Laxus nodded grimly. "He acted recklessly, without consulting me or our father, and used embezzled company funds to do so. To say that my father was furious is an understatement—furious enough that I don't know if Volg will be able to come back from this."
He glanced at Godric. "If I have my way, I'll pull him out of Excalibur and bring him home. He needs help—treatment for whatever darkness is eating away at him."
"Treatment?" Helga raised an eyebrow. "What, are you going to hook him up with some fancy magical prosthetic for his arm? That'd be sweet."
Bran nodded thoughtfully. "With advancements in magical healing, reattaching or regrowing lost limbs is entirely possible. It's quite fascinating, actually."
Laxus rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faint scar near his wrist. "Do you think Volg is the first to lose a limb in our family? This kind of thing happens more often than you'd think. The real challenge is whether he has the strength to rise above his failures."
"Not to mention," Rowena added, her tone thoughtful but edged with concern, "the Nova he consumed during the duel."
At the mention of Nova, a dark shadow passed over both Bran and Laxus. Laxus's face tightened. "Aye, the Nova," he admitted grimly. "I've spoken to Doctor Adani, but even she's no expert in dealing with Shimmer. The damage it's done to his body… we won't know the full extent until I can get him to a proper facility."
Laxus turned his gaze to Godric, his expression heavy with meaning. "But don't—don't even think about shouldering the blame for his choices. Whether it was desperation, pride, or sheer stupidity, this was Volg's decision. And now, the consequences are his to bear."
Laxus's sharp blue eyes swept over the group, lingering on each of them. "You've surrounded yourself with remarkable people, Godric Gryffindor," he said. "I gave them an out—a chance to abandon you and save themselves—and yet, they chose to stand beside you, even as the flames closed in."
He paused, his gaze softening for a fleeting moment. "A man's greatest wealth lies in the bonds he forges with those who will walk with him through the depths of darkness, unyielding and unafraid. That kind of loyalty, that kind of connection... it's rare."
Laxus fixed his gaze on Godric. "Cherish what you have. Guard it fiercely. And no matter the trials ahead, never let it slip away." A faint smile curved his lips. "I've no doubt the four of you are destined for greatness—together, you'll carve a legacy that will stand the test of time."
The four friends exchanged knowing glances, their expressions softening into smiles. A silent understanding passed between them, each giving a firm nod of solidarity.
Headmaster Blaise cleared his throat, his authoritative voice breaking through the moment. "Well, it seems this matter is resolved, at least where the Clock Tower is concerned." His eyes swept over the four friends, sharp and commanding. "But let me make one thing clear—you may be off the hook with the Tower, but you are far from off the hook with me."
The group collectively cringed, each shifting uncomfortably where they stood.
"I will be writing to every one of your parents," Blaise continued, "and all four of you will serve detention for the foreseeable future."
Salazar smirked slightly, Helga looked sheepish, and Godric gave a resigned nod, but Rowena froze, her face paling.
"Detention… and letters to our parents? I'm so getting disowned for sure," she muttered under her breath, staring into the distance like her life had already ended.
Laxus let out a hearty laugh. "Hah! Brings back memories, doesn't it?" He nudged Bran in the arm, the gesture friendly but full of mischief.
Bran raised an eyebrow. "Speak for yourself, Laxus. You were the one always getting detention, not me."
"Well," Laxus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically, "all the way here to clean up my brother's mess. Gods above, I should've known he'd be trouble the moment he was sorted into Aecor. Nothing good ever comes out of that lot."
The room went silent. Bran's nervous chuckle broke it as he gestured toward the Headmaster. "Um… Laxus?" he murmured, pointing discreetly. "Headmaster Blaise was Aecor."
Laxus's eyes widened in realization, his face freezing in panic as he slowly turned toward the Headmaster. "Ah… well," he stammered, his lips twitching into a nervous grin as Blaise stared him down, his expression one of icy disapproval.
"I see," Blaise said flatly, his piercing gaze locking on Laxus. "Do go on."
"Er… nothing! Nothing at all," Laxus said quickly, straightening his posture. "Aecor's… an excellent house! Fine traditions, impeccable standards!"
Helga leaned over to Salazar, whispering with a grin, "Guess even Visionaries can put their foot in it sometimes."
Salazar smirked. "Best part of the day so far."
****
As Godric and his friends left the Headmaster's office, Laxus excused himself, stating he had other matters to attend to. The solemn expression on his face made it clear that those matters likely involved his brother. Godric and Helga quickly became engrossed in conversation, their voices blending into the quiet hum of the corridor. Meanwhile, Rowena lingered behind, walking beside her brother, her head hung low.
Bran glanced at her; one brow arched in curiosity. "It's quite rare to see you without a smile, Rowena," he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. "And here I thought I was the brooding one in the family."
Rowena sighed softly. "Bran, I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I've brought shame to the family... to you."
Bran paused mid-step, his eyes widening for a moment before softening. A chuckle escaped him, low and warm. "Oh, Rowena," He shook his head. "Do you really think we Ravenclaws are paragons of perfection? That we've never made mistakes?"
He rested a hand gently on her shoulder, his tone both reassuring and amused. "Believe me, every one of us has botched something at some point. Father, Uncle, even our dear cousin Mina—none of us are infallible."
Rowena blinked, her sapphire eyes widening slightly. "But—"
"No buts," Bran interrupted gently. "It's not the mistakes that define us, it's how we learn from them. It's how we grow. That, dear sister, is what makes us Ravenclaws." He reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek, his touch tender. "Your kindness is your most precious trait, Rowena. Never let go of it."
His gaze flicked to Godric, Helga, and Salazar standing ahead. "You acted out of love, loyalty, and truth," he said firmly, meeting her eyes again. "I can't fully condone your actions, but I can understand them. Your friends are lucky to have you, and I'm lucky to call you, my sister."
Rowena's lips trembled, a faint blush rising to her cheeks as she leaned into his touch. "Thank you, Bran," she murmured.
"Always," Bran said with a smile, releasing her gently. "Now, go on. Your friends are waiting for you."
****
Rowena smiled briefly before turning to rejoin her friends, but Bran's voice cut through the air before they could leave. "Mister Slytherin, a word if you'd please."
Salazar raised an eyebrow, exchanging glances with Godric, Helga, and Rowena. Their expressions reflected concern, but he offered a small reassuring smile. "I'll see you all at the Great Hall," he said.
With hesitant nods, they left, casting one last glance over their shoulders before disappearing down the corridor. Salazar turned to face Bran as he tucked his hands casually into his pockets. "To what do I owe the interest of the esteemed Adjudicator?" he asked, his tone light but guarded.
"I would tell you, Mister Slytherin," Bran said, folding his arms across his chest, "but I suspect you already have an idea."
Salazar smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Am I being interrogated, Mister Ravenclaw? Should I expect a pair of Aurors to jump out of the shadows?"
Bran glanced around the empty hall, spreading his arms in mock theatrics. "I don't see any Aurors here, do you? No, this is simply a friendly little chat."
Salazar chuckled. "A chat, perhaps, but friendly? Let's not delude ourselves. Let me guess—this has something to do with what happened to Mister Gramont?"
"Perceptive, as expected," Bran lime-green eyes narrowed slightly. "You were the last person to see him alive. And while the official findings claim he... ended himself with the Killing Curse, I find that explanation highly dubious. Even improbable."
"Isn't it unfortunate we live in such skeptical times." Salazar's smirk widened as he leaned casually against the wall. "I know how this works. This is the part where you try to unsettle me, hoping I'll slip up and confess to something I didn't do." He gestured vaguely. "Because if you had even a shred of evidence tying me to Gramont's untimely demise, I wouldn't be standing here having this delightful exchange."
Bran's eyes narrowed further, but he said nothing, allowing Salazar to continue.
"I surrendered my wand," Salazar said matter-of-factly. "The Aurors found no trace of dark magic. And, as you well know, the Killing Curse requires intention. Not even the Imperius Curse can force someone to end their own life like that." He shrugged lightly. "As much as I despised that arrogant waste of oxygen, even I wouldn't have wanted him dead."
"So, in your honest opinion, Mister Gramont just... happened to suffer a breakdown mid-duel and decided to end himself where he stood?" Bran tilted his head. "Even you must admit that explanation is ludicrous."
Salazar shrugged, raising his hands in a gesture of nonchalance. "Who can say? I don't claim to understand every dark thought slithering through the minds of the unstable. If anyone here might feel mentally scarred by the ordeal, it'd be me." He let his words linger before adding with a faint smirk, "One moment, I was looking at him; the next, he was on the floor, lifeless."
Bran didn't flinch, but his scrutiny deepened. "And yet, you seem remarkably unfazed by the entire event. Why is that?"
Salazar's emerald gaze locked onto Bran's, his tone dropping slightly. "We all have our stories, Mister Ravenclaw," His eyes glinting faintly, as though concealing some deeper truth. "Some are happier than others, and some… well, some are darker than most." A shadow of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "I'll leave it to you to decide which one is mine."
Bran studied him for a long moment. Finally, he nodded, his tone measured. "For now, you're right. There's no evidence. But I'll be watching, Mister Slytherin. Sooner or later, the truth has a way of revealing itself."
Salazar straightened, his smirk never faltering. "And when it does, I trust you'll let me know." He gave a small mock bow before turning on his heel, walking away with the air of someone who had already won the exchange.
Bran's gaze remained fixed on Salazar as the boy sauntered down the hallway. Bran's sharp eyes flicked upward at the faint rustling sound coming from the vents overhead. His jaw tightened as he drew a slow, measured breath, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
"Salazar Slytherin," he murmured under his breath, the name rolling off his tongue like a challenge. Suspicion deepening as his thoughts raced. "Just what are you hiding?"