— — — — — —
Grindelwald handled setting the stage. What followed belonged to Tom.
There was nothing left to negotiate this time. It was simply a press conference for the Astra Abyssum Guild.
When the Catherines appeared, the reaction was exactly what you'd expect: a wave of shock. And once people learned that every single one of them was a puppet, their understanding of Tom's alchemical skill shot up another level.
Pierce watched the eloquent boy onstage, the emotions in his eyes leaning unmistakably toward the negative.
Sure, one day he would be at the helm of the International Confederation of Wizards, but he was still a North American wizard. And North America did not get along with this boy at all.
He had even suspected, at one point, that Tom was a decoy pushed forward by Dumbledore. A flashy genius used as bait to achieve some unspeakable agenda.
Later, he realized the truth.
Tom really was just that terrifyingly capable.
So no matter how unpleasant it felt, Pierce had no intention of openly making an enemy of him. He wouldn't even try to trip him up unless he was absolutely certain he could survive first and then kill the kid afterward.
Unfortunately for Pierce, he had vastly underestimated Tom's mastery of the mind, not to mention Jeanne's "Voice of Revelation" talent.
Even the faintest trace of malice showed up crystal clear to Tom's senses.
Tom flicked a glance at Pierce. That alone made him stiffen and immediately rein himself in, though he didn't dare do anything further.
Pierce's hostility was pitifully small, and Tom couldn't be bothered to care.
If he went after everyone who felt even a hint of ill will toward him, Hogwarts would have descended into chaos long ago. Forget the other three houses. Even in Slytherin, plenty of students were obedient on the surface while simmering with resentment underneath.
That was normal. He wasn't foolish enough to think everyone would like him, especially not people who'd been steeped in blood-purity ideology for years.
As long as they behaved themselves, he wouldn't interfere. If they jumped out and tried to bite, he'd simply wipe them out.
Tom continued with the press conference, laying out the Astra Abyssum Guild's basic structure and its current functions.
At the heart of it all was the membership system.
First, anyone could register for free as an Honorary Member of the Astra Abyssum Guild. Honorary Members received no benefits. They only gained the right to post and accept missions through the guild.
For now, though, Honorary Membership functioned as a kind of pass. Once you had it, your past identity, whether as an Acolyte or anything else, no longer mattered. As long as you followed local laws, the local Ministry of Magic was required to treat you equally.
That condition was essentially a multinational wizarding passport. Without Grindelwald applying constant pressure, reaching such an agreement in peacetime would have been nearly impossible.
Some people only behave when you point a wand at them.
Still, once things stabilized, Grindelwald would keep expanding outward. And when that happened, the value of Honorary Membership would only keep rising.
Above that tier came the truly distinguished Arcane Members.
Arcane Membership was divided into eight levels.
Members enjoyed free lodging, priority mission listings, a fixed monthly stipend, reduced commission cuts, and other perks. Tom didn't go into much detail. Once you signed up, you could see everything for yourself.
The people present were all senior Ministry officials. Money and stipends didn't stir much emotion in them. They looked at things from a different angle.
Many of them realized something at the same time.
Astra Abyssum Guild members were a lot like temporary workers.
When you needed help, you posted a mission and had them handle it. When you didn't, you tossed them aside without paying a single sickle more. Compare that to the Ministry, where hiring one person often meant supporting them for life. No wonder so many Ministries were afraid to recruit and instead kept squeezing their existing staff dry.
Their opinion of the guild rose noticeably.
The idea of hiring Acolytes to work for them, with Grindelwald unable to say a word about it, was downright exhilarating.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, remained silent throughout.
He could see Tom's ambition clearly, and it was hard to believe this was something a third-year student should even be contemplating. Back in the day, Voldemort hadn't been this bold.
But Dumbledore hadn't opposed Voldemort because of ambition. It was Voldemort's methods that repulsed him. The man was heartless, using destruction as intimidation and slaughter as a means of wielding power.
Tom was different. He went with the flow, balancing force with incentives.
There was just one thing Dumbledore couldn't figure out.
Grindelwald was cooperating far too willingly. What exactly was he getting out of this, and what sort of scheme lay hidden underneath?
"This badge is your sole proof of identity."
Tom held up a small, round badge. It was simple, almost plain, with only a shiny Black Rayquaza coiled across its surface. That was the Astra Abyssum Guild's emblem.
Originally, Tom had wanted to use a panda as the emblem. But once Usaki found out, she threw a fit and pestered him nonstop. In the end, he had no choice but to switch back to her likeness.
Usaki was really absurdly jealous.
"Give me ten thousand slots to start with," Grindelwald said casually. "Mutual exchange is a good thing. The wizarding world has been stagnant for far too long. Each generation is worse than the last. It's time for real change."
"There are enough badges for every wizard in the world," Tom replied. "But each person has to go to a guild branch to complete registration before they can use one. Once registered, their magic is bound to their identity. It can't be forged or stolen."
The press conference wrapped up. Sirius left with Catherines to handle deployments in Germany, after which they would move on to other countries.
Grindelwald handed guild affairs over to Rosier, left Durmstrang, and traveled to a castle in Munich.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, brought Tom back to Hogwarts.
---
Germany - Munich City
An elderly man led him inside with deep respect, stopping outside a suite. Several people were already gathered in the hallway. From within came the cries of a woman in labor.
The cries didn't last long before they were replaced by a clear, jubilant shout.
"It's a boy! A boy!"
"That's wonderful!"
The crowd erupted with excitement. Inside the room, Laos was even more overwhelmed. He carefully held the wrinkled newborn in his arms, the baby's cries sounding like heavenly music to him.
"I have a son. I have a son!"
In the wizarding world, passing on the family line mattered no less than it had to kings. And it was always better to be a boy.
"Laos…" Solen called softly. Watching the tender scene between father and son, a tired but genuine smile appeared on her face.
When he heard her voice, the smile on Laos's face slowly faded, his expression turning complicated.
"Solen, I've prepared a gift for you."
She froze. "A gift? What kind of gift?"
At that moment, the doors were pushed open, and Grindelwald walked in with several people behind him.
"You've always wanted to meet me, haven't you?" Grindelwald said calmly. "That's your gift. He invited me here to grant your wish."
"Gr–Grindelwald, sir?" After a brief moment of panic, Solen forced herself to calm down and struggled to sit up straighter.
"Spare me the pleasantries."
Grindelwald fixed his gaze on her. The sheer pressure of it made breathing difficult. "What exactly is your Caruso family plotting? Say it yourself."
Solen's face changed instantly.
---
The founding of the Astra Abyssum Guild stirred up waves across the world. Just the joining of several thousand Acolytes was enough to land this civilian organization's intelligence reports on the desks of every major power.
Newspaper coverage also drew the attention of many destitute witches and wizards, who suddenly saw a new way to make a living.
In the magical world, the gap between rich and poor could be enormous, but the gap in raw power between wizards wasn't nearly as wide.
Even a well-trained Auror could get overwhelmed by three to five adult wizards. With a surprise attack, even students could take down a professor.
When people like that banded together, they formed a force that couldn't be ignored.
As for how stupid Fudge was, he didn't realize any of this until everything was already in motion. Only then did he discover that the Astra Abyssum Guild's headquarters was in Diagon Alley, and that Tom was behind it.
When a good number of Ministry employees started registering as members to earn some extra money on the side, Fudge finally panicked and rushed to Hogwarts to confront Tom.
It was clearly not a pleasant conversation. When Fudge left, his face was livid. He nearly ran into a young wizard without even apologizing, hurrying off down the corridor.
"..."
"What did you even talk about with Fudge?" Hermione asked curiously inside the Room of Requirement.
"He wanted control over the guild," Tom said lightly. "I shut him down."
He shrugged. "Fudge is an idiot, and he assumes the worst of everyone. He thinks everything should be handled by the Ministry. If they can't deal with it, they just let it rot. But another group stepping in to solve problems? In his eyes, that's stealing his authority."
"There are three hundred registered guild members now. Just yesterday, two werewolves caught a wanted criminal. They handed him over to the Ministry, but that alone poked right at Fudge's nerves."
Hermione's brows were tightly knit by the time he finished. She couldn't help complaining, "That's such an incompetent government. You're clearly doing good. Even if they won't help, trying to stop you is ridiculous."
Tom added. "Wasn't it always like this?"
Hermione fell silent.
"Let's drop that," Tom said, waving a hand. "I've got a new kind of special training for you today."
"What kind?" Hermione asked.
The boy stood up and opened his right hand. A timeworn, ancient-looking book appeared above his palm. It opened on its own, pages flipping rapidly with a soft rustling sound, glowing with a pale blue light.
"Let me see… ah, here we go."
A beam of light flew out of the book, gathered itself, and formed a hazy human figure that landed in front of Hermione.
"Today's lesson is… intensive training in the Blasting Curse. Ready?"
.
.
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