Chapter 121. The French.
Lifting his palm from the man's head, Severus rubbed his chin in thought. While he did so, he produced a vial of red liquid and began pouring it into the unconscious Frenchman's mouth. The other unknown wizards were French as well. The potion smelled of iron and bitter herbs.
"A small miscalculation," Severus said with a hint of embarrassment, noting the stunned faces of the men who were trying to hide their terror behind angry glares. "I should have established from the outset that you are the Lestranges' business partners."
"Mph-mph-mph-mph! Mph-mph!" one of them bellowed furiously at the cloaked stranger.
"Fair enough, but you shouldn't have attacked so suddenly, and with the Killing Curse, no less. I understand you wanted to impress these two, but no one forced you to attack me. You could have stood aside." Severus raised his free hand to lift the dark veil from his face. He had no desire for Nagini, still largely innocent in such matters, to see a particularly unpleasant sight. "Even so, I should thank you, Mr. Mathieu. I learned a great deal about France and your business." He glanced at the unconscious man. The moment his eyes moved to the others, they went pale, convinced he was about to rummage through their heads as well. "Don't worry. You don't interest me. I didn't kill your friend; there may be some small gaps in his memory, nothing more."
That explanation did not reassure them in the slightest. If anything, it made them more anxious.
"Still, I can't leave you completely unattended. I need to be certain of one or two things, so I'd recommend removing your mind protection. Otherwise there's a real chance I'll hurt you. I'm no expert at this, and your colleague here..." He nodded toward the unconscious body. "...was simply fortunate."
"Mmmf! Mmmf!"
"I didn't catch a word of that. Nod if you agree, and if not, well, you know what follows." Severus made no effort to conceal his impatience. "I don't have time to play games. Other uninvited guests will no doubt arrive here soon." He looked at the two brothers, who flinched. "I'll start with you."
As Severus approached, he tore back both their right sleeves and pressed his fingers to the Dark Marks. He added himself as a secondary master while leaving Tom in place, but reduced Tom's influence by half relative to his own. It was delicate work, but Voldemort would never know. Tom lacked the skill because he hadn't created the seal himself. He'd found it in the Restricted Section during his years at Hogwarts and had only updated it superficially, tuning it to himself without touching the core mechanism. He was nowhere near Salazar's mastery of runes.
Hogwarts didn't produce geniuses; it drilled the basics into young wizards' heads. Nearly all of Tom's school years had been devoted to the dark arts, so his knowledge of runes was shallow, limited to whatever the previous professor had taught. Still, it had been enough to repurpose the slave seal for his own purposes.
Thanks to Bellatrix, and five years at the Magistry studying the subtleties of dark magic, including slave seals, this work was not especially difficult for Severus. Even so, he had to proceed carefully. One small mistake and Tom would know immediately that someone was tampering with "his" seal.
When he finished, Severus checked the brothers' minds for protection. Finding none, he produced two more vials of grey liquid. Using the roots, he forced the resisting wizards' mouths open, tipped the contents in, and used a charm to make them swallow.
For the first few seconds nothing happened, aside from the near-hysterical moaning of the two Lestranges, who were desperate to know what they had just been forced to drink. Gradually they fell quiet, and then simply fell asleep.
Severus placed a palm on both their heads and felt no resistance. Nodding, he lifted his hand from the older brother and produced a white sphere about the size of a soccer ball. He began extracting memories from the younger brother's mind. The artifact slowly turned grey before the Frenchmen's eyes as they watched with bulging stares, already regretting that they had come today to negotiate the buyout of the Lestranges' company shares.
Severus wanted everything, but that would have taken far too long, so he confined himself to the last five years. Even that took over ten minutes, and then he had to deal with the older brother's memory.
He could have reviewed everything directly, of course, but in case he was ever accused of aiding the Dark Lord, he wanted compromising material on both brothers and other Death Eaters, something he could present as evidence. Editing memories inside the artifact was not difficult.
Once he had finished, he altered their recollection of today slightly and added a couple of mental limiters, then turned his attention to the two remaining Frenchmen, who had watched the entire proceeding in wary silence.
As a precaution, Severus skimmed Rodolphus's memories of that day and learned why the house was almost deserted apart from the five of them.
This manor was not a Death Eater stronghold, as Severus had initially assumed. It was the Lestranges' private meeting place, used for business dealings and annual family gatherings.
Their trusting relationship with the French party had lasted ten years, and neither side had felt the need to bring guards. Even so, each was prepared to fight if the other moved against them, because in another fifteen minutes, if a specific signal failed to arrive, guards from both sides, positioned a few kilometers from the manor, would arrive.
Severus approached the Frenchmen and placed his palm on one of their heads. The blond flinched, and raw animal terror filled his eyes.
"Have you decided? Or would you prefer to follow your colleague's example?" The hood of the cloak lifted slightly, and the Frenchman caught a glimpse of a bloodthirsty grin. Completely unnerved, he shook his head violently and made a series of sounds that required no translator. "Good. Glad we understand each other." Severus patted the trembling blond on the head, met his eyes, and entered his mind without resistance, calmly reviewing what interested him most. They had met Flamel once, when they attempted to purchase the recipe for the Philosopher's Stone.
In the memory, Flamel appeared as a "fragile" old man with long grey hair nearly to his shoulders, a face mapped with wrinkles, and a gaze that was deep and penetrating, as though nothing could be concealed from it. He had been welcoming and pleasant company, but the moment the conversation turned to the Philosopher's Stone, the genial expression disappeared. He showed his "guests" out, and no matter what sum of money they offered, he refused.
Flamel looked frail, but Severus was not so easily taken in. A wizard's true strength lay not in the body, but in the core and in knowledge. He had no doubt the old man was already a Magister, possibly at the peak of that rank. In six hundred years, that was no great achievement to expect.
In the world Severus came from, setting aside his own abilities, many wizards reached the peak of Magister rank within a hundred to a hundred and fifty years, and they were not even particularly gifted individuals. So he was confident Flamel must be close to that level at the very least.
As for the three Frenchmen, they were founders of a sizable company with deep roots throughout France, dealing in all manner of magical goods. They had at one point considered buying Severus's potion recipes, but abandoned the idea once they discovered who distributed them, though they still intended to approach him directly and attempt a negotiation at some point.
They had come to this meeting only to buy out the seven percent of shares belonging to the Lestranges.
Severus had moved against them because he suspected they might be connected to the new gang that had attempted to rob his shop. The two brothers, the younger one in particular, bore him a deep grudge, and it would not have been surprising if they had set someone on him. But having reviewed the memories, Severus was now certain it was not these two. Voldemort himself had ordered them to find out where those "bastards" had come from, and there was no trace of any connection to the new gang.
After the Frenchmen gave him full access, ten minutes was enough to find everything he needed. When he had finished, he was about to edit their memories as well, but...
"Mfh! Mfh-fm-fhm!" the oldest of them, judging by age and magical strength, suddenly spoke through the roots with startling energy, fixing Severus with an unwavering gaze. That caught Severus's attention.
"What?" He raised an eyebrow and removed the roots from around the man's mouth.
"I'd like to negotiate!" the Frenchman said with a smile, which visibly shocked his colleague, who shot him a look of utter bewilderment. "That sphere, am I right that it stores memories? And what you said earlier about the cube, you made both of them yourself?"
"Oh. Interesting. Yes, that's correct. What exactly are you proposing?" Severus had already guessed the gist of it from the earlier memories and the manner of speaking, but in that moment he was more interested in what the man knew about Flamel.
I'd like to propose a partnership! I'm certain your artifacts would fetch enormous prices! Please, let's... The man trailed off and collapsed. His colleague went pale, and a moment later he collapsed as well.
"Wasn't that a fair offer? You could have earned so much more," Nagini said in bewilderment. She had watched everything unfold but had kept herself hidden, making no sound, so that they could neither see nor hear her. She had not wanted to make things difficult for him again, as she had when he was forced to meet Voldemort.
"Why would I need it? I've got plenty," Severus replied with a smile, stroking her head. "I just thought he might offer something more interesting, so I humored him." The runes he'd used to make them came from his own world. No intention of letting anyone see those, he added silently.
He glanced toward the exit, sensing more than forty magical signatures converging on the manor. Severus walked over to the Lestranges, went through the older brother's pockets, and helped himself to a wallet. "Let's go home. I'm finished here."
Nagini found his actions puzzling but said nothing. She could feel the crowd approaching too. She simply nodded, and the next moment they were gone.
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