After a night of much-needed rest—sleeping soundly while flanked by the comforting presence of Dia and the warm, soft fur of Braixen—Reinhardt woke up ready to reshape his world. However, breakfast was a wake-up call of its own.
He poked at the bland, unseasoned eggs and dry toast. He sighed, shaking his head. "If I'm going to be the most powerful wizard in Britain, I refuse to eat like a Muggle in the Great Depression," he muttered. "Dia, remind me to overhaul the pantry once we move."
Dia, standing perfectly poised as Grayfia, nodded. "As you wish, Master. A Lord's constitution requires much higher quality than this."
Eldric arrived shortly after, presenting the census of the 40 Sylveron elves. Reinhardt's Perfect Mind scanned the list: they had a good spread of skills, from Security to Staff Management, but they lacked direction.
"Eldric, summon everyone. Even the ten from the other estates. I want every Sylveron elf in this study, now."
The Grand Staff Meeting
Moments later, the study was packed with forty small creatures, all trembling with a mix of anxiety and hope. Reinhardt stood before them, his silver hair shimmering and his young face set with an authority that belied his age.
"Hello everyone," Reinhardt began, his voice calm but carrying the weight of the Sylveron name. "I am Reinhardt Sylveron, the new Head of this House. I've called you here because the old ways are over. Today, we modernize."
The elves nodded frantically, their large eyes fixed on him.
"I am dividing you into four specialized divisions," Reinhardt commanded. "And at the top of your hierarchy is Eldric. From this moment on, Eldric is the Head Butler of House Sylveron. You report to him."
Eldric's eyes welled with tears. He fell to his knees, sobbing with joy. "Master! To be recognized so... Eldric will work until his ears fall off for you!"
"Stand up, Eldric. You have work to do," Reinhardt said with a small smile before turning to the others. "Now, for the Division Leads:
Zelda: You are in charge of the Cleaning Division. I want this house, and every house we own, to be spotless. Milo: You are in charge of the Cooking Division. Milo, the food this morning was average. I will be giving you Master-level recipes from my own mind. You and your team will train until the food is fit for a God. Elrin: You are in charge of Estate Management. You will oversee the maintenance of every mansion we own and report directly to your father, Eldric, or me."
The three lead elves stepped forward, bowing deeply. "Yes, Master!"
"My first order is simple," Reinhardt said, his eyes narrowing at their tattered rags. "You are the face of the oldest house in the world. You will no longer wear garbage. Eldric, I will provide you with sketches of proper butler suits and maid dresses. You will take them to Madam Malkin's—since we own shares there, she will prioritize us—and order custom uniforms for everyone."
He then looked at the cracked ceiling. "Finally, I am destroying this mansion. It is a ruin and unworthy of us. I will build a new one in its place. Elrin, find the most stable and luxurious mansion in our assets for us to stay in while the construction is underway."
"Meeting dismissed. Get to work."
With a chorus of "Yes, Master!" and forty soft cracks, the room emptied, leaving only Reinhardt, Dia, and Braixen in the silent, crumbling study.
[System Upgrade: 25% Complete...]
Reinhardt sat back and looked at the blueprints he was already forming in his mind. "A week until the Malfoys arrive. By then, I want to be sitting in a palace, wearing the finest robes, eating the best food, and looking down on Lucius from a throne."
With the staff organized and the "old" Sylveron life officially retired, Reinhardt moved with the efficiency of a world-class CEO.
The Grand Redesign
Reinhardt spent the afternoon sketching. Using his Perfect Mind, he drafted sleek, professional uniforms: sharp black-and-silver charcoal suits for the butlers and elegant, reinforced lace dresses for the maids.
"Eldric," Reinhardt said, handing over the designs. "Take these to Madam Malkin. Tell her I want the highest quality acromantula silk and dragon-hide trim. We have shares in her shop; remind her that the Sylveron Heir expects perfection."
"Right away, Master!" Eldric vanished with a determined look.
Next, he turned to Milo. "Milo, forget everything you know about boiling meat until it's gray." Reinhardt tapped his temple, transferring mental blueprints of Master-level Japanese, French, Italian, Mexican, and Chinese cuisines, including complex desserts. "This is your bible now. Start training. I want a five-course meal that tastes like heaven by tomorrow."
Milo's eyes bulged at the complexity of a Beef Wellington and Sushi, but he bowed low. "I will not fail you, Master!"
The Real Estate Purge
Elrin approached with the heavy scrolls of the 80 mansions. The news wasn't great:
20 Mansions: Complete ruins. On the verge of collapse. 20 Mansions: Structurally sound but hideous and outdated. 40 Mansions: Functional, but needing magic-ward upgrades.
Reinhardt didn't blink. He contacted a major Muggle construction firm (where he held shares) and a high-end Wizarding firm. He authorized a $30 million (Muggle currency) and 5 million Galleon renovation project.
For the Sylveron Primary Estate, he hired a world-renowned architect to create a masterpiece. The plan was a fusion of Modern Luxury and Zen Elegance:
The Mansion: A glass-and-stone fortress with state-of-the-art security. The Grounds: A massive garden filled with Sakura (Cherry Blossom) trees, winding Koi ponds, and a private outdoor training ground for magic and Pokémon.
"Buy the surrounding land," Reinhardt ordered, signing a stack of checks. "I want a buffer zone. No neighbors, no spies."
The Temporary Move
As the construction crews and demolition spells began to roar at the ancestral site, Reinhardt, Dia, and Braixen prepared to leave.
"Elrin, we'll stay at the Windsor Manor until the Palace is finished," Reinhardt decided. The Windsor property was a smaller, well-kept estate near the countryside—private, quiet, and perfect for training.
The forty elves worked like a hive mind, packing the ancient library and the mountains of gold from the vaults. Within hours, the old, crumbling mansion was empty.
Reinhardt stood at the gates of the Windsor Manor, Braixen by his side and Dia standing a half-step behind him like a silent silver shadow. The sun was setting over the English countryside.
"A week until the Malfoys come to visit," Reinhardt mused, looking at his hands. "By the time Lucius sees me again, I won't just be an 'heir.' I'll be a King in a castle."