[Tom: ??]
[Tom: Done already? That fast?]
Tom began to suspect there was something wrong with Rouse Wilkinson's mental wiring. Usually Rouse showed zero interest in women. The moment the Graves family was involved, he acted like he had swallowed a handful of pills.
[Rouse: Boss or not, you cannot slander me! I am innocent with Solenne!]
[Tom: Save the detour. Your grudge with that Frank... is it because of his family's power?]
[Rouse: No. I disliked him before I ever crossed his uncle. First year I cast a Confundus Charm on the girls' loo. Frank walked in, got thrashed, and nearly earned a demerit.]
[Tom: ...So you picked a fight with the Graves clan on purpose.]
[Rouse: What can I say, it is like Gryffindor and Slytherin. We just do not mix. We came from Germany. They came from Spain. The ancestors once beat each other's brains out. Ancient blood feud carried to this day.]
[Rouse: It is just that our line has slipped these last generations, no real talents. We have had to keep our heads down. Otherwise we would have thrown hands long ago.]
You are a talent in your own right, Tom thought. Rouse's raw power might be ordinary, but his tongue and his wits outpaced many stiff minded wizards. Or perhaps... North American wizards were all like this?
On the surface, North America looked the most closed, still banning marriages with Muggles by law. In practice, they embraced change the quickest. Everything Tom had seen, from Tina to Rouse's offhand tidbits, proved as much.
Rouse sketched the triangle between them. He, Frank, and Solenne had been classmates. He and Frank had butted heads from day one, brawling often. With a professor for an uncle, Frank usually had the upper hand. Solenne, then as round as a braised lion's head, came from a decent family but few wanted to befriend her. Still, she disliked watching Rouse get bullied and spoke up for him several times.
[Rouse: How did she change so much? And now she is Frank's fiancée.]
[Tom: Interested?]
[Rouse: Boss, do not be crude. I want to repay a debt. She helped me then. Now it is my turn to put in work for her.]
[Tom: Do you want her as a person, or the Graves engagement buff as well?]
[Rouse: Heh, both, both. The latter is a buff, gives me extra motivation.]
[Tom: I do not recall Chancellor Cao having descendants in North America. Anyway, be careful. If you need Amortentia, tell me. For now, business.]
Chancellor Cao? Rouse had no idea what Tom meant, but he tucked the name away.
[Tom: There is something off about Frank. I tried Legilimency and almost got caught. Either his Occlumency is good, or he has other protections.]
[Tom: You said North America felt wrong lately. Keep your ears open. Tell me the moment you see anything.]
Occlumency was the one art that ignored raw power. Snape had spied for years without Voldemort ever catching a whiff, and the Dark Lord's trust in him had only grown. Tom's own Legilimency, therefore, was not especially refined. The effort to payoff ratio was poor. If only he could roll a Queenie style talent, he could flatten decades of practice in an instant.
[Rouse: Aye, boss. Frank is a Graves priority project. He is stronger than me, but his brain is not as good. Relax. I will strip him to his drawers.]
...
While the two plotted to peel Frank's secrets, the subject himself was raging. The guest quarters Hogwarts had arranged for Ilvermorny lay in wreckage. Anything that could be smashed had been.
"Insufferable! Insufferable!"
"Dumbledore dared hire that dolt Rouse, and just now stood up for him. He does not see us at all."
"Must he see you?" Solenne asked mildly.
She had long grown used to a fiancé who snarled like a beast. At Ilvermorny, Frank was popular, witty and humorous, young and handsome, from a good family. Many girls had written him love letters. Solenne knew better. That was a mask. The real Frank was petty and vindictive. In his bones he believed himself born a winner and looked down on everyone else.
"Frank, do not think your family's clout in North America reaches Dumbledore," Solenne said.
"Solenne!" he snapped. "You are my fiancée. Why are you speaking for outsiders?"
"I am asking you to stay calm and stop making trouble." Solenne drained the last sip of lemon tea. A few bright drops slid into an unspeakable valley. "We are here to assess the level of Britain's new generation. If we sour relations with Hogwarts staff, what exactly are we assessing?"
"What is there to fear? Our main task is already done," Frank muttered. "Lester has..."
"Silence." Solenne's voice cut like a knife. "Lester who? We know no such person and have never heard the name. Understood?"
Color rose in Frank's face again. In the end he swallowed it and nodded. "Understood."
Not far away, in another room, the Castelobruxo professors were gathering.