After dinner, Victor was informed that Dumbledore urgently requested his presence in his office. However, he ignored the headmaster's summons, choosing instead to attend to a matter that concerned him far more than any threat to his life.
He stood in the corridor, leaning his back against the cool stone of the wall, waiting patiently. Finally, Adele and Luna appeared around the corner. Just as in the Great Hall, Luna walked past, completely ignoring his presence, while his sister merely smirked, casting a mocking glance his way.
A sly smile appeared on Victor's face. Leisurely, he pulled a stack of shimmering Basilisk scales from his pocket and began to pointedly sort through them, letting the magical light play across their facets.
Luna's eyes instantly lit up with delight. All of her feigned coldness vanished in a flash, and she flew toward him as if on wings.
— Victor! Can I? Please, let me see, let me have them! — she bounced around him, trying to reach the treasure, but he held his hand high above his head.
— I will give them to you if you honestly answer one question for me.
Luna nodded vigorously, her eyes locked onto the scales.
— Why are you ignoring me?
— Adele told me to! — she blurted out without even a moment's hesitation. — I didn't want to, honestly, but she said you can't stand clingy girls like Daphne. So she said I need to stay away from you so you wouldn't get cross with me.
Victor chuckled and placed the scales into her open palms. Luna happily began to examine them, and he gently patted her head.
— My dear sister must have mixed something up, — he shifted his gaze to Adele, who at that moment was studying the stone wall with an incredibly independent look, as if the conversation didn't concern her in the slightest. — Luna, you can do whatever you want. I could never be angry with you.
— Really?
— Of course.
Luna thought for a moment, then suddenly threw her arms around his waist. She pressed herself against him, resting her chin on his chest, beaming happily. Victor was slightly caught off guard by her embrace, but then he smiled and wrapped one arm around her, stroking her back. With his other hand, he slowly, barely noticeably, lifted the edge of his blindfold.
Seeing his tender gaze, Luna laughed merrily, looking straight into those blue eyes that had been hidden from the rest of the world for so long.
A little while later, Victor, frowning, strode into the headmaster's office.
— I believe I sent word for you to report here immediately? — Dumbledore asked, slowly rising from his seat.
— Well, yes, and I, of course, rushed here immediately at full steam, didn't I?
Dumbledore's eye twitched slightly.
— So it wasn't you who spent the last half hour happily chatting and hugging Miss Lovegood in the corridor, while your sister, by her appearance alone, gave passing students the hiccups?
Victor smiled nonchalantly.
— Why did you summon me? I hope it's not because of those ridiculous rumors about an attempt on my life? I really don't have time for this. These purebloods are far too fragile: all it took was for me to scare Lucius Senior once, and he immediately ran off to hire someone.
— You threatened Lucius Malfoy? — Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in bewilderment.
— Well, sort of... He just crossed my path when I was in a bad mood. Anyway, if that's all, I'll be going. They won't be able to reach me anyway once I leave England.
Seeing that the boy was already turning toward the exit, Dumbledore stopped him with a commanding gesture.
— Wait. I do not know exactly what was in your letter, Victor, but this time, the threat has nothing to do with pureblood families.
Victor froze by the door in surprise.
— Victor... what do you know about Fenrir Greyback?
Victor sharply ripped off his blindfold, staring into the headmaster's face.
— Fenrir Greyback? — a heavy silence filled the office for a moment. — Never heard of him. Who is that?
He tilted his head, genuinely trying to remember. But he didn't recall such a character from the movies.
Dumbledore sighed heavily.
— Fenrir Greyback is a maniacal werewolf who dreams of building his own army to establish his rule over the world. And, as I have managed to find out, he is the one coming for you.
— Oh. Cool. Well, alright, now I'm definitely leaving, I really have no time.
— Wait, listen to me! Victor, understand this: this is not just some small gang of mercenaries. This man has hundreds of werewolves at his command. This is not a problem you can just brush aside.
Victor, who was being stopped for the second time, clicked his tongue in annoyance and reluctantly returned, sinking into an armchair.
— Right after graduating, I'm unlikely to stay in England anyway. I'll just apparate to France, and that'll be the end of it.
Dumbledore shook his head.
— You cannot hide forever. Greyback is very cunning; otherwise, he wouldn't have survived this long while committing his atrocities across the globe.
— Oh, well then I have a brilliant idea, — Victor said calmly. — Why don't you go and deal with him yourself?
— What? — Dumbledore was taken aback.
— What's wrong with that? With your power, capturing some werewolf shouldn't be a problem.
The headmaster looked at him intently and shook his head.
— I am afraid that is impossible.
— Why? Are you afraid of him?
Dumbledore paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
— Do you know why they call me the greatest wizard in Britain?
— Are you seriously deciding to brag right now? — Victor frowned.
— I am not bragging... well, maybe just a little bit. What I mean is that I am the strongest in England, but I am not the only one. For instance, your grandmother. Few know this, but she is considered the most powerful mage in France, and there are such individuals in almost every magical community. We possess power that many times exceeds the capabilities of ordinary wizards. And ever since the Grindelwald incident, there has been a tacit agreement between us: we do not unleash our true might unless, of course, something catastrophic occurs.
Victor grew thoughtful. He remembered that in the movies, Dumbledore had fought at full strength only once—against Voldemort. And it seemed even then he had held back.
— Wait... So you're saying that when I attain that same level of power, I'll have to hide it too?
— Not hide it, but strive not to create chaos in magical society. Power on that scale can reshape the world.
— Pffft... Well, you might as well shoot me right now. "Not create chaos"? Why, I am the definition of chaos!
Dumbledore smiled gently.
— Trust me: once you reach that level, fighting ordinary wizards will become incredibly boring and meaningless to you. You won't want to waste your time on it yourself.
— Fine, let's assume that's true. What are we going to do about the werewolf?
— I have already contacted Alastor Moody. We will prepare a plan. Keep quiet about this for now—someone has already caught wind of the threat, but they don't know the details. Fenrir will likely not wait long. He will attack either at Platform 9 3/4 or on the Hogwarts Express itself. There is still half a month left until the end of the term—ample time to set an ambush for him.
— Fine. A plan as reliable as a Swiss watch. I trust you. Now, with your permission, I must go. Good night!
Dumbledore watched Victor leave, the boy practically flying out of the office.
Victor strode rapidly through the castle corridors. Arriving in the Slytherin dungeons, he quickened his pace and burst into the Slytherin common room. Nearly the entire house had gathered there: students were crowding the center, while those who hadn't found room watched from the staircases.
With a short wave of his hand, Victor opened the doors to his hall—the former meeting room.
— Everyone inside.
The space of the hall was vast, and the students quickly divided into factions. Draco, who followed behind Victor, Gemma, and Daphne, frowned. For the first time, he fully realized the balance of power: a massive crowd of Victor's followers, Gemma's people, and his own supporters, who were even fewer in number than Farley's.
— Our "heroes," step forward so we can admire you! — Gemma commanded.
From all three factions, students of various years began to slowly step forward—about twenty people in total. All of them looked pathetic: bruises, scratches, torn clothes. Malfoy, looking at them, couldn't suppress a contemptuous smirk.
The incident had occurred right after dinner, while Victor was occupied talking to Luna and Adele. The Slytherins had clashed with the Gryffindors in one of the corridors. No magic was used—they just went at it crowd against crowd. The fight ended quickly, the participants scattered, and the teachers didn't even manage to notice anything.
Victor stepped forward. Because of the blindfold over his eyes, no one knew exactly where he was looking, but a wave of trembling passed through the hall.
— A disgrace, — he said quietly, and this calm tone was more terrifying than a shout. — What kind of snakes are you? More like... harmless garden snakes.
The students bowed their heads shamefully.
— What started the fight? — Gemma asked sternly, trying to get into the details.
— What the hell difference does it make?! — Victor interrupted her. — You lost. You lost disgracefully! You were beaten like punching bags, even though there were fewer of them than you!
Gemma shook her head wearily.
— Victor, that's not the point right now...
— No, my dear, that is exactly the point. Yes, Slytherins are famous for cunning, not muscle, that's true. But if a fight cannot be avoided—have the pride to carry yourselves with dignity.
Victor fell silent, trying to calm down, and shook his head in disappointment.
— Disgrace. What a disgrace... Especially those from my faction. I am deeply disappointed in you.
Victor's voice sounded utterly disheartened.
— You attacked with numerical superiority and blew it. If you don't care about your own faces, you should have at least thought about my reputation.
The guys from Victor's faction who had participated in the scuffle felt a heavy lump form in their throats. At that moment, it seemed to many that it would have been better if their leader had screamed at them or even beaten them, rather than seeing his face look like that.
— This is all my fault. Daphne, when this is all over—close the Club. I'm going to my room. I don't want to be here anymore. It's a good thing I'm blind and didn't see this shame with my own eyes.
When the door closed behind Victor, a dead silence descended upon the hall. The remaining members of Victor's faction glared at their guilty comrades with undisguised hatred.
— Don't you dare look at them like that! — Daphne cut them off. — You all let Victor down today. While these baboons were swinging their fists, weren't you the ones standing in the crowd, egging them on and laughing? You could have stopped them, but you didn't.
The faction hung their heads.
— When the others leave, we stay. We need to have a serious talk. Gemma, please continue.
Gemma gave Daphne a grateful nod and returned to questioning the participants of the fight.