David followed Yule into the sitting room, glancing back at the portrait that was still shouting insults from the corridor.
“Who was that?” “Hector Fawley.” Yule grinned.
“Charles’s great-grandfather on his father’s side.
Minister for Magic from 1925 to 1939.” David stopped.
“Seriously?
Minister for Magic?” He turned to Charles, who was following them inside.
“Your family had a Minister for Magic?” The surprise in his voice was genuine.
Mostly.
There was also a fair amount of teasing in it.
After all, David was far more familiar with Charles as a member of the infamous Golden Galleon Poaching Crew than as the descendant of one of Britain’s former Ministers.
“It’s not particularly unusual, David.” Charles slammed the door shut behind him, almost as though he hoped a wooden door could keep his ancestor out.
He smoothed his slightly dishevelled hair and smiled.
“You have a Minister for Magic in your family tree too.” “What?!” David whipped around towards his father.
How had that joke managed to come flying straight back at him?
John, however, was studying the portraits on the wall.
The elderly woman David had seen before was there as well, gazing at him with undisguised affection.
“Damocles Rowle.” Hector Fawley abruptly reappeared in another portrait.
Apparently a closed door meant very little to painted ancestors.
“He served as Minister for Magic from 1718 to 1726,” Hector explained, while simultaneously complaining that the younger generations in the room were lazy, degenerate, and an embarrassment to their bloodlines.
“He was strongly anti-Muggle, and he was also the first Minister to use Azkaban as a wizarding prison—” “That’s enough!
You should get some rest!” Charles frowned and cut him off.
Then he pointed towards the elderly woman in the neighbouring portrait, whose expression had visibly darkened.
“You’re a guest here.
Try behaving like one.” Hector’s face turned red.
“Just wait until you get home, boy!” He jabbed a finger at Charles threateningly before storming out of the portrait.
David was still processing the glorious history of his ancestors when his father and the others had already moved on to more immediate concerns.
“No.
Not yet.” John shook his head.
“No matter how incompetent, muddle-headed, or greedy Fudge is, he won’t allow us to operate openly.” Charles sat to John’s left and frowned.
“But the warrants have been withdrawn, haven’t they?” “At least we’re safe in Britain now.” “No.” Yule crossed one leg over the other from the opposite sofa.
“They weren’t withdrawn.” He swirled the drink in his glass.
“Prosecution was merely suspended.” His expression became more thoughtful.
“I can tell what kind of man Fudge is.
He’s greedy.
He wants everything he sees.” “The Ministry has always been like that.” Charles leaned back in irritation.
“Shameless bastards.” “No.” John glanced down at the Rowle family signet ring on his little finger.
“The Ministry hasn’t been corrupted.” He raised an eyebrow.
“The position of Minister for Magic is clearly cursed.” Charles laughed.
“You really can find an excuse for anyone.” Then he considered it.
“Though now that you mention it, Fudge used to be merely incompetent.” “Isn’t that a good thing?” Yule cut in.
“If he were competent, do you honestly think we’d have been allowed back into Britain?” “Oh, give over.
That wasn’t Fudge’s doing.” Charles beckoned to David and nodded towards the drinks cabinet.
“Pour me one too, would you?” David raised an eyebrow.
“Aunt Susan is going to kill you.” He said it cheerfully enough.
Then went to pour the drink anyway.
Charles puffed out his chest.
“It’s that damned doctor’s fault!
Who decided a man has to stop drinking just because he’s trying for a baby?” Notably, he complained about the doctor.
He did not dare complain about Susan.
Once David handed him the glass, Charles turned back to Yule.
“Fudge isn’t the reason we were able to return.” He took a satisfied sip.
“James is.” He lifted the glass slightly.
“We should thank James.
His Galleons did the real work.” Perhaps Charles really had inherited something from Hector Fawley.
Around family, once he started talking, he could go on forever.
“If you’re genuinely grateful to me,” a voice suddenly came from the doorway, “then take care of yourself and give Susan a child.” Everyone in the room immediately stood.
David automatically stepped beside his father and uncles.
He was part of the family too.
James Rowle entered carrying a narrow-brimmed hat in one hand.
He paused and looked around the room.
“How long has it been since I’ve seen everyone gathered like this?” His gaze moved from John to Yule to Charles.
“Is this an internal meeting of the poaching crew?” He tilted his head.
“Should I leave?” No one answered.
James looked over them once more, then waved dismissively.
“Sit down.” A faint smile touched his lips.
“Celebrities of the dark wizarding world.” Yule immediately snorted with laughter.
“Hah—hah—hah…” David looked at him.
Yule responded by pulling an exaggerated face, apparently delighted with himself.
“Sorry, Dad.” Charles quietly moved his drink away and sat upright.
“We were discussing the warrants.” “Mm.” James sat down.
“Regaining your freedom is a good thing.” He looked at his children and slowly nodded.
“The goblins at Gringotts were rather upset about it.” Everyone looked at him.
James continued calmly.
“They’ve been whispering that I’m a wastrel.” He sighed.
“Apparently there’s barely any gold left in the family vault.” David stared at him.
James gave a quiet scoff.
“Goblins will never understand the way humans think.
Perhaps that’s why they’ve spent so much of history being suppressed and controlled.” His gaze settled on John, who had gone unusually quiet.
“Family comes first.” “Galleons do not produce smaller Galleons.” “Children do.” James folded his hands.
“As long as the bloodline continues, the family can always rise again.” Then he suddenly looked towards David.
His expression became almost pitiful.
“David.” David immediately became suspicious.
“Our family is destitute now.” James sighed heavily.
“This estate is practically the only thing we have left.” He looked at his grandson with great seriousness.
“You’ll have to work hard.” David stared at him.
“Grandfather… are you serious?” He looked around.
They were sitting inside a castle.
A castle overlooking the sea.
A castle with enormous grounds, seven house-elves, antique furniture, gilded portraits, and enough rooms that David had spent an entire week exploring them.
And his grandfather was calling the family destitute?
Was the old man performing for him?
Or— David glanced at John.
Ah.
He understood.
Grandfather wasn’t speaking to him at all.
He was reminding John that after running away from home for more than ten years, struggling across half of Europe, getting hunted by multiple Ministries, building an internationally notorious poaching crew, and nearly getting himself killed countless times… his entire fortune still couldn’t compare with what generations of the Rowle family had accumulated.
John had clearly understood the message as well.
“I’ll work harder…” He paused.
“…Dad.” James looked at him.
“Going to steal more dragons?” Then, with a perfectly straight face, he nodded.
“They are rather valuable.” John said nothing.
James turned to Charles.
“I heard you managed to get hold of several dragon eggs.” Charles stiffened.
“Norwegian Ridgebacks?” “Er…” Charles’s mouth twitched.
“Yes, Dad.” James studied him solemnly.
“You really are impressive.” The praise sounded sincere.
Which somehow made it much worse.
David finally understood where Susan had inherited her talent for cutting remarks.
Apparently it ran in the Rowle bloodline.
James then looked towards John.
“I’ve left the alchemical goods shop in Knockturn Alley to Mary.” John nodded.
James shifted his gaze past Yule to Charles.
“And I’ve left the shop in Diagon Alley to Susan.” Charles nodded as well.
A brief silence followed.
“Ahem.” Yule cleared his throat.
He straightened his back.
Adjusted his posture.
Placed both feet properly.
Looked directly ahead.
And waited.
David glanced at him.
Yule’s expression had become the picture of filial respect.
Clearly, it was his turn.
James looked over.
“Are you all right?” Yule blinked.
James sounded genuinely concerned.
“Feeling unwell?” Before Yule could answer, James stood.
“Well, that settles everything.” He turned towards the door.
Yule remained sitting perfectly straight.
Silence.
David looked at him.
Yule stared ahead.
His inheritance, apparently… was fresh air.
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