"Wanted target: Cass Palaiologos. Deliver alive to the designated location. Reward: twenty thousand Galleons. Additional note: if he is confirmed to possess Parseltongue traits, the reward will be doubled."
After reading it aloud, he rolled the parchment back up and tucked it into his robes.
"The leader was right. He's just a first-year runt," another wizard said, poking half his body out from behind the leader as he looked at the bedraggled Cass. His voice was younger, carrying the confidence of someone who held every advantage. "There's no way you can beat elites like us. As for your family..."
The corner of his mouth curled upward in a malicious grin. "...you heard it just now. They can't save you. More than half the pure-blood aristocrats in all of Greece want you dead. They think you're a stain on their caste system, an aberration that should never have existed."
"So you should thank the leader for his mercy. We intend to hand you over alive..." A third voice came from farther back. "...your special bloodline saved your life. Believe me, given how conservative those pure-blood aristocrats are, if you cooperate obediently, you probably won't die. After all, you're the only living Parselmouth with no real backing. If you cooperate, it makes things easier for us, and we get a bigger reward. Everyone wins, right? Being studied alive is better than being dissected dead, isn't it?"
Cass did not answer. His magic was indeed nearly exhausted. What that witch hunter had said was accurate.
The Grey Serpents' reactions had already slowed considerably—the direction of the snakes' heads remained consistent, but that direction itself was slowly shifting from "attack" to "stand by." They were gradually regaining their senses, lingering only because of the residual magic spread throughout the alley.
Most of the fabric