In an underground chamber beneath a castle hidden by magic in London, several wizards shrouded in black robes sat around a long table.
Blue magical flames danced in a brazier. The atmosphere was oppressive, and no one spoke.
The strange stalemate lasted a long time before one of the black-robed wizards finally spoke. "Everyone, it's time we made a decision."
"A decision? You mean following Lucius's master?" Another black-robed wizard sneered. "Jacob, you should know that Voldemort isn't much better than Vaughn!"
"Vaughn only threatens our foundations and interests, but Voldemort will destroy everything!"
The first wizard raised his head. The blue flames illuminated the face beneath his hood: Jacob Rosier.
His gaze swept over everyone in turn before he said gravely, "Selwyn, we have no choice!"
Selwyn fell silent. Jacob was right. They had run out of options.
The Sacred Twenty-Eight had become a heap of loose sand, and some had even become Weasley's lackeys. The only families still capable of banding together to form an alliance against him were those represented here.
The Potions exchange was already a certainty. The only good news was that Vaughn had yet to begin researching Muggles. He seemed to be making preliminary preparations, or perhaps using a few relatively unimportant "appetizers" to whet the magical schools' appetites.
But once the research into Muggles began, if Vaughn discovered magic protein in their bodies, it would be too late! Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache brewing. Just as that North American wizard, Robert, had said, England's pure-blood families had already split apart.
That meant he had to find a way to drag every family that might prove useful aboard their pirate ship.
Shared interests were not enough. Only by ensuring that they rose and fell together could he make these families