Vinda mulled it over for a moment, then shook her head. "Unlikely. We do have people embedded in the Ministry, but they haven't been in place long enough. The director's seat is still out of reach—even for Allen. And we can't afford to pull our influence from the Auror Command..."
"Exactly," Argus agreed. "The Auror Office won't relinquish control over anything that could rival Gringotts or Diagon Alley. Still, we can't let this chance slip away."
A sharp knock interrupted them—the manor house-elf at the door. "Master, Mr. Malfoy has arrived. He's waiting in the drawing room."
"Malfoy?" Argus frowned, then broke into a grin as realization dawned. Vinda, assuming it was Draco, cut off mid-sentence. "Your classmate's here. We'll continue later—go keep him company."
"Aunt Vinda, you're off the mark this time." Argus rose, smoothing his robes. "If I'm right, it's Lucius. Draco wouldn't lounge in the drawing room; he'd be out on the pitch flying Quidditch the moment he heard I was busy. Only Lucius has the patience to wait."
Vinda chuckled, shaking her head. "Fair point. You handle him—I'll stay out of it. If I showed up, he'd probably bolt."
She gathered the parchments from the table and swept out. Argus entered the drawing room to find Lucius perched on the sofa, sipping tea. Spotting Argus, he stood promptly to greet him.
Argus returned the smile, signaling a house-elf for pumpkin juice. He took a sip and settled in. "Mr. Malfoy, if memory serves, today was the pure-blood families' assembly."
"Indeed. Most are pushing for peace with the acolytes."
"Most?" Argus arched an eyebrow. Peace talks didn't surprise him—few pure-bloods, spoiled by their cushy lives, had the stomach for all-out war. They'd sooner trade concessions to preserve their status quo. Reconciliation was inevitable if the acolyte threat lingered. What caught him off guard was the holdouts.
"Yes. Families like the Rosiers and Selwyns aside, the rest are done making enemies of the acolytes. Recent events have them terrified."
"If fear hadn't gripped them, they wouldn't have folded so fast." Argus smirked, urging Lucius on.
"The pure-bloods took a beating—losses that could cripple them for years."
"And you? How badly hit was Malfoy?"
"Thanks to your warning, we only lost one estate. The Parkinsons and Greengrasses fared similarly—manageable. But Crouch... that's the real headache."
"Barty Crouch?" Argus's gaze sharpened.
"You've heard, then. Wizards abroad are clamoring for his ouster from the International Magical Cooperation Department. But no pure-blood will yield that post lightly."
"So they're rallying to shield him first?" A scheme crystallized in Argus's mind. With the families' intervention as cover, he could maneuver Allen higher up the ladder.
"Precisely. Nearly every pure-blood has ties in the Ministry. United, protecting Crouch should be straightforward."
Lucius sipped his tea, stealing glances at Argus to gauge his thoughts—testing the waters.
"They won't save him," Argus said flatly.
Lucius jolted, spilling a drop. "Mr. Grindelwald, what do you—?"
Argus's mind had raced ahead. The pure-bloods' bid reminded him of a overlooked piece on the board: Voldemort's die-hard follower, a key to his resurrection—Barty Crouch Jr.
"Do you recall your old associates under Voldemort?"
"Associates..." Lucius echoed faintly. "You mean Barty Crouch Jr.? But he's dead."
"What if he isn't?"
Lucius shot to his feet, face draining of color. The revelation stunned him—not just that the son lived, but that Argus knew. It clicked instantly: the father was complicit, hiding his Death Eater boy. But such secrets demanded ironclad discretion!
Even Barty Sr. had kept it buried deep. How had Argus unearthed it? His network pierced Ministry vaults like parchment—beyond anything Lucius could fathom.
"You see it now," Argus continued. "Expose Barty Jr.'s survival, and Crouch Sr. faces more than dismissal. Azkaban awaits. What good are pure-blood connections then? Fudge won't shield him. Nor will British wizards—unless Crouch fancies defying the entire magical world. If he could, why beg for allies?"
Lucius exhaled, tension easing into a sly grin. Argus had targeted their weak spot—the families' collective underbelly. One reveal could flip the game, no matter their countermoves.
They delved into strategy for the pure-bloods' next steps, hashing out alliances and contingencies. Lucius departed satisfied, and Vinda returned to pick up their earlier discussion on Ministry placements.
But before they could dive in, the house-elf knocked again. Another guest had arrived at the manor—one Argus never saw coming…