Chapter 81: Absolutely No Physical Persuasion
It was likely lunchtime when the news from Diagon Alley reached the Selwyn estate. Even their less-than-brilliant minds could grasp the catastrophic impact the new communicator would have on their Owl Post business. They were still seething with rage when they discovered an uninvited guest in their ancestral home.
The middle-aged wizard couldn't fathom how things had escalated to this point. When he had first seen Ryan Welles appear in his drawing-room, he and his relatives had foolishly assumed the boy was there to offer an apology, terrified that they would crush his little invention before it even got off the ground.
He replayed the last few minutes in his mind with a heart full of regret.
When Ryan had first materialized, one of his cousins—now lying unconscious on the floor—had shouted, "You! Ryan Welles! We graciously spared you, and now you have the audacity to trespass in our home?"
In their minds, they had only tolerated Ryan's existence as a favor to that old fossil, Dumbledore. They had never once considered the actual disparity in their power. He's just a schoolboy, they had all thought.
Ryan hadn't answered, instead making himself comfortable on a plush sofa. "Forgive my unannounced visit," he had said calmly. "I've come to discuss the potential... friction... between the Owl Post and the communicator."
"There's no 'potential' about it, boy! It's a certainty!" snapped a middle-aged witch, who was Vaisey's aunt by relation and whose sour demeanor matched her unpleasant face. "The House of Selwyn will make you kneel and beg for mercy!"
"So, negotiations are off the table, then?" Ryan asked, shaking his head with an air of disappointment.
"Negotiate? Who do you think you are?" the wizard snarled. "You are in no position to negotiate with us! Hand over everything related to that little toy of yours, and we might let you keep a single Galleon for your trouble!"
In his world, this was perfectly reasonable. What power in magical Britain could possibly stand against the pure-bloods? That Muggle-lover, Dumbledore? The old man never dared to leave Hogwarts anymore. He was clearly past his prime, his power faded, relying on nothing but his reputation. Dumbledore was a paper tiger, nothing to be feared.
"Hahaha! Crucio!" Vaisey's aunt shrieked with laughter, lunging forward and casting the Unforgivable Curse without a second thought.
What happened next defied all comprehension.
Ryan simply... flickered. One moment he was on the sofa, the next he was gone. The Cruciatus Curse slammed into the furniture, blasting it into a cloud of splinters and dust. In the next instant, Ryan was standing before the three of them, unleashing a series of sharp, stinging slaps. With each flicker of movement, another one of them was struck across the face.
But that's impossible! the three of them thought, their heads reeling. The entire estate was protected by an Anti-Apparition Jinx. No one could Apparate here!
But it didn't end there. After delivering the slaps, Ryan reappeared in front of the wreckage of the sofa. Without a word or gesture, the shattered pieces flew back together, restoring it to its pristine condition. He sat back down and sighed, muttering to himself, "Oh, dear. I promised Dumbledore I wouldn't resort to physical persuasion."
The wizard saw a look of genuine regret on Ryan's face as he offered a sincere apology. "I am so sorry. The three of you just have such slappable faces, I lost control for a moment and used physical means to communicate. I'll be more careful from now on."
That single sentence ignited their fury. They let out incoherent roars, hurling every insult they could think of at Ryan's ancestry as they drew their wands and attacked like rabid dogs.
It was only then that the true terror began.
His cousin was disarmed and stunned in a single, effortless motion. His other cousin, Vaisey's aunt, found that her barrage of curses simply dissolved about ten feet away from Ryan, completely unable to reach him. "What is this magic?" she shrieked, her face a mask of disbelief.
The middle-aged wizard was about to shout a warning when he heard Ryan sigh again. "I can't damage this place. Vaisey would make me pay for the repairs."
He watched as Ryan simply raised a hand and pressed it down.
There was no incantation, no wand movement, no flash of light. The wizard only felt a dizzying, sickening lurch as the very magic in the air seemed to reject him. A terrifying, silent vibration pulsed through the room, instantly knocking his cousin unconscious. He only managed to stay awake thanks to a powerful protective amulet he wore.
And yet, the room was untouched. Not a single teacup had rattled.
If he had possessed the strength, he would have let out the most high-pitched scream of his life. The feeling was like biting into a piece of fruit and finding half a worm. Under the crushing pressure of that invisible force, he could do nothing but writhe on the floor, crashing into the priceless furniture he was so proud of.
When he finally regained his senses, he shouted the first words that came to his mind: "I believe we need to have a talk!"
"I don't understand," Ryan said, looking genuinely confused. "I thought I had already reached an agreement with the House of Selwyn. Your patriarch seemed quite amenable to my point of view."
The patriarch? The wizard's muddled brain struggled to keep up. The Selwyn patriarch was currently studying advanced security protocols in Azkaban.
"It seems you still don't comprehend," Ryan said with a patient smile. "Allow me to help you understand." He pointed his wand at the two unconscious figures, and they slowly stirred back to life.
Before the wizard could even ask what was happening, the intense, disorienting vibration washed over them again. This time, all three collapsed into a heap on the floor.
"So this is the effect of manipulating raw magic itself, without the crutch of spells, wands, or arrays," Ryan mused aloud. He woke them again, continuing his "experiments."
This cycle repeated perhaps five or six times. When the middle-aged wizard came to again, he was gasping for air. "Please... please wait," he stammered, "esteemed... Mr. Welles."
Ah, so now it's "esteemed Mr. Welles," Ryan thought, lowering his hand. These pure-bloods' spines were softer than he'd expected.
"Do you have something to say?" he asked with that same pleasant smile. "If not, we can continue. I have a banquet to attend, but I'm in no rush."
To the three battered and terrified wizards, that smile was like the leering maw of a demon from the deepest pits of hell.
"We understand now!" the wizard blurted out, speaking as fast as he could, terrified of being knocked out again. "I have always said that Vaisey is an indispensable talent! He is the one who can lead the House of Selwyn to a new golden age!"
Finally, we're getting somewhere. They're not as stupid as Vaisey said, Ryan thought, nodding encouragingly.
Seeing the feedback, the wizard steeled himself and, through gritted teeth, made the declaration. "We have unanimously decided... to name Vaisey the new patriarch of the House of Selwyn!"
At these words, Ryan's demeanor changed in an instant. He shot to his feet, his face a mask of guilt and remorse, and rushed over to help them up. "A misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding!" he said breathlessly. "Your new patriarch and I are like brothers! I am so sorry for this unfortunate incident. I will be sure to offer him my deepest apologies at the banquet tonight."
How is this any different from forcing someone to be your friend at knifepoint? the wizard thought, a wave of rage and despair rising in his chest. He felt a suffocating pressure, as if he couldn't draw a breath.
With two soft thuds, his two relatives collapsed beside him, having fainted from sheer, unadulterated rage.
~~~
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