When Narcissa joined the circle, even though she remained like a shadow behind her husband, she could not hide a spark of astonishment in her gaze. Seeing Lucius, the patriarch of the Malfoys, debating the terms of a fortune as if standing before an equal—and that equal being a boy the same age as his son—was an image hard to believe.
The negotiation was fierce. Lucius, true to his nature, dissected every single clause of the magical contract, searching for a trap, an emergency exit, or a legal loophole. He demanded a brand-new parchment, drafted by his own lawyers and sealed by sources "trustworthy" to him. I did not yield a single millimeter. Not just because of our mutual distrust, but because of the reality I imposed upon him: time was running out, and the duel had to be resolved tomorrow. The contract I was offering was malleable because the true anchor would be the [Blood Pact]—my personal magic—which Lucius feared because it was unknown and impossible for him to manipulate. In the end, after a series of modifications laden with legalistic paraphernalia, we managed to condense the essence of the deal into an Unbreakable Vow that would cover both our backs.
However, Lucius halted his quill right before the very end, crossing his arms with a suspicious scowl.
"And how do you intend to guarantee that I will receive my prize when I win?" he questioned in a sibilant voice. "You have it far too easy, Weasley. If you die on the field of honor, you won't have to worry about the consequences of failing to fulfill your part. The dead do not pay debts."
"I don't plan on dying, Lucius, but I am a man of my word. I too will have a witness and a trusted guarantor who will carry out my part should fate take a turn," I replied.
I turned toward the membrane of blood. With a single thought, I allowed the veil to part just enough for my voice to reach the rest of the Atrium.
"Ginny!"
The shout, crisp and authoritative, left the crowd stunned. No one could see the subtle movement of the invisible membrane, so my voice seemed to appear out of nowhere. Ginny, despite the great tacit understanding we shared, hesitated for a moment. She did not possess Narcissa's clinical coldness to come at the very first call, but a brief gesture of my hand gave her the push she needed.
Overcoming her instincts, my sister ran toward me.
"Ginny!" my parents cried out in unison, watching their youngest daughter walk away.
They did not understand my motives, and though their faith in me was great, seeing Ginny step into that space with the "guilty parties" surpassed their endurance.
They tried to follow her, desperate to retrieve their children, but the Dragons of Albion acted once more. Their intervention was the final straw for the Minister. To Fudge, this was no longer the eccentricity of a wealthy youth; it was an insurrection. A foreign paramilitary group dictating terms and blocking the path of citizens and officials at the very heart of the British government.
"Enough of this madness!" Fudge roared, finally finding the legal excuse he needed. "Aurors, arrest those mercenaries immediately for obstruction of justice and contempt for Ministry authority!"
He ordered his men to charge against my guards, determined to clear the Atrium of what he considered a criminal invasion. One could debate whether his logic was fair or simply an act of political impotence, but it was all the same to me. By now, the Dragons had already fulfilled their purpose: they had bought me the time and space required to seal the Malfoys' fate.
Ignoring the chaos erupting on the other side of the veil, Ginny took her place at my side. She clung to my arm with a mixture of protection and alertness, casting a look at Lucius laden with doubt and intrigue.
"So, another little Weasley liar..." Lucius hissed with contempt. The rage from the failure of his original plan festered in every word; seeing his strategy end up in this corner of blood was consuming him.
"Don't you dare call her that," I replied, my voice dropping to a dangerous pitch as I stroked my sister's hair with genuine tenderness. "She knew nothing of this until yesterday."
"Oh, so you deceive your own family, even those who are part of your game... Impressive," Lucius let out, offering a compliment that was a poisoned dart. He was desperately trying to find an emotional crack in me to regain control. "I wonder if she even understands what she is doing here. Do you know, little girl, that your brother is using you for his own selfish ends?"
"It's not that she knew nothing," I interrupted, flashing Lucius a smile full of absolute confidence. "Let's just say I'll explain the details to her after this. She is my most trusted person, Lucius. In the event that I die in the duel, she will be the one to guide you to the Philosopher's Stone."
"Die?!" Ginny exclaimed aloud out of worry.
I gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder to silence her, while sending her a mental [Message]—a line of information that only she could perceive.
"Does that seem like enough of a guarantee?" I asked provocatively.
"It must be stipulated in the Vow. She must ensure the safe and immediate delivery of the Stone," Lucius demanded.
"Fine..." I nodded.
What followed was a final exchange of terms, a bureaucratic and magical dance. We had to instruct the witnesses, Narcissa and Ginny, on their exact roles. Lucius kept trying to claw back safety benefits, while I bought time for Ginny to process the information I had transferred to her.
Finally, the air within the circle grew heavy. Lucius and I clasped our hands together. Narcissa raised her wand, resting the dark-wood tip over our bond as she recounted the terms of the vow.
"You vow...?" Narcissa's voice sounded like the cracking of a glacier.
Strands of fire erupted from the wand, wrapping around our wrists like serpents of incandescent light. We both accepted the terms, pronouncing the vows without our voices trembling in the slightest. We held each other's gaze, searching for a trace of doubt or regret in the other, but we found nothing. Only the cold resolution of two men who had just wagered their lives and legacies in a game where only one would walk away.
And so, the first vow was sealed. Lucius watched me with a lethal stare, waiting to see if my lungs would collapse or my heart would stop at that very moment. He had signed a prior waiver of liability so as not to be blamed if I died from false testimony during the talk, but divine punishment did not come. I was still alive. With a scowl of annoyance, Lucius accepted the reality: the Stone was real, or at the very least, I blindly believed it was. For a man like him, losing the chance to kill me right then and there was an acceptable price to pay in exchange for eternity.
However, I did not let go of his hand. The air between us remained saturated with an oppressive static.
"This is only the beginning," I declared. The previous vow only guaranteed that the Blood Pact to follow was clean magic, with no hidden traps, intended solely to execute the consequences of the deal.
Ginny, her fingers trembling but her gaze alight with fierce resolve, extended her hand and joined it with ours. The process was nearly complete, but I kept silent, letting the weight of the vacuum push Lucius to the brink.
"What are you waiting for now?" Lucius grunted, the tension fraying his patience. "What else do you intend to gain from this agreement?"
"Her," I said, pointing directly at Narcissa.
Time seemed to freeze beneath the crimson veil. Before the surprise in the Malfoys' eyes could transform into indignation or suspicion, I spoke with a blood-chilling serenity.
"I want her. I want Narcissa Malfoy to manage my wealth in the event that I win," I declared, holding the gaze of the Lady of the House of Black. "I am a minor; legally, I cannot claim your properties or manage assets of such magnitude. And I do not trust my parents with this task."
I paused, letting the brutal logic of my words sink in.
"My parents are good people, but the weight of the Malfoy fortune would crush them. They would feel guilty; they would donate the gold, distribute it among the needy, or hand it over to Dumbledore for his greater good. I am not risking my soul and my life just to have my reward dissolve into charity. I love them, but I will not allow them to touch my money. I need someone with fangs sharp enough to maintain an empire, and that is Narcissa."
Lucius looked at me with a spark of twisted admiration. My words resonated with his own worldview: piety was a weakness the Weasleys suffered from like a disease. In that moment, I am certain Lucius saw me as a miracle from Merlin—a pureblood scion who had finally been born with the intelligence and cruelty necessary to restore the Weasleys to noble greatness.
Narcissa, for her part, did not share her husband's enthusiasm. Feeling my eyes locked onto her, a shiver ran down her spine as if magic itself were warning her of the danger. She did not see a child, nor even a potential ally; she saw a cold, calculating serpent dragging her into a game of shadows from which there would be no escape. I was not asking for a manager; I was taking a high-class hostage.
"We agreed that you will turn over fifty percent of all Malfoy family assets," I stated, my voice cutting through the air. "But I am not foolish enough to trust that this wealth will remain intact by the time I turn seventeen. I will not allow underhanded tricks to reduce my plunder while I wait to come of age. So let us do this: if I win, Narcissa will take the reins. She and Draco will keep their half, but the rest belongs to me." Lucius tightened his jaw, but I didn't stop. "If she wishes for her share to grow, she must manage mine with the same excellence. She will be under my command; she will not be able to move a single Galleon from the Malfoy vaults without my consent. This ensures the estate does not evaporate, and at the same time, buys me the time needed to launder my image for when I receive it."
Lucius frowned; I had just neutralized his "Plan B." In the unlikely event of a loss, he had already contemplated the possibility of emptying the accounts or transferring properties before I came of age to leave me with the scraps. But now, by involving Narcissa as a forced administrator, that exit had been sealed. He hated that I had foreseen his move, but greed for the Stone was an anchor far too heavy. He looked at his wife, seeking silent confirmation.
Narcissa felt the weight of destiny. Something inside her seemed to warn her that she was about to place a golden chain around her neck, but her loyalty to Lucius and the desire to secure Draco's future overrode her instincts. She nodded with elegance and extended her hand, joining it with the rest.
The four of us intertwined our hands in a perfect cross. I caused my wand to float above our bond, surrounding us with a dance of scarlet and golden sparks. Despite Lucius's doubts regarding the safety of non-verbal magic, the ritual was completed. The [Blood Pact] and the Unbreakable Vow were established, binding our lives and fortunes indissolubly.