"So…" Hermione hesitated. "That wizard was the ancestor of the Weasley family?"
"Yeah. 'Nigenes' or 'Neglis,' I can't quite remember." Solim shrugged.
"A total of fourteen wizards died in that ambush by the elves, including three great wizards—one from the Malfoy family, one from the Black family, and another whose family has long disappeared."
Solim sneered. "Great wizards. That's what they called them. Great wizards like Grindelwald, Dumbledore, and Voldemort—three of them dead at once. What do you think the families of those so-called great wizards did afterward?"
Draco looked stunned. "Why didn't my father ever tell me? And, Solim, what happened after that?"
"Afterwards?" Solim's voice dripped with irony. "Do I even need to say? The Presbyterian Council couldn't hide something like that. The families of the murdered wizards gathered all their forces and wiped out the Weasley family—no survivors. Their wealth was divided among the families of the victims. Fortunately, because the Weasleys were a contracted family of the Presbyterian Council, a remote branch of their bloodline was preserved. Otherwise, they'd have been erased completely."
"How could they do that!" Ronald burst out angrily. "You said he was bewitched by the elves!"
Solim's expression hardened, his lips curling in disdain. "That was the official statement. Back then, the Presbyterian Council hadn't yet separated from the general wizarding society. They claimed the Weasleys had elven blood and were merely confused by outside forces—just to save the family's face. But really, what does it matter whether they were deceived or truly betrayed? Does it change anything now?"
He leaned back, eyes sharp. "You see, once wizards realized their magical potential wasn't as strong as that of elves, they started seeking ways to bridge that gap. And what better way than… having children with elves? Most wizards whose wand cores are made of unicorn tail hair carry traces of elven blood. Some extreme wizards even experimented with magical transformations to infuse themselves with other bloodlines. Take Parseltongue, for example."
Solim's gaze shifted back to Ronald. "Weasley, your family should be grateful to Malfoy and the surviving wizarding clans."
"What! They destroyed our family, and you think I should thank them?" Ronald shouted incredulously.
"Do you even know what a 'contract family' is?" Solim's tone grew cold. "In the Presbyterian Council, a contract family means that no matter what happens, the Council guarantees the continuation of that family's bloodline. Even if it's treason, even if the entire wizarding world turns against you, the elders ensure your survival. But the contract has a time limit—and the Weasley family's has long since expired. The families involved in that old blood feud weren't just the Malfoys. They still exist, but they live under the control of the Presbyterian Council. The Council's laws prevent them from interfering in the common wizarding world. Still, even a declining Malfoy could end your family easily if he wanted to. So yes, Weasley—you should be grateful."
He smirked faintly. "Lucius Malfoy has friends in every major pure-blood family, deep connections in the Ministry, and enough gold Galleons to move mountains. If he truly wanted to punish your family, it wouldn't take much. Your father would lose his job. Your brother Bill would be fired from Gringotts—Lucius is a shareholder there, after all. Charlie's dragon reserve? Malfoy owns part of that too. Once those three are unemployed, how would your family survive? You'd have some savings, sure—but for how long?"
Ronald's hands clenched.
"Let's say you go job hunting," Solim went on coldly. "Pure-blood families have their hands in everything. Every major industry in the wizarding world is under their influence. If you can't find work, you might think to start your own business—but the Ministry won't approve it. Maybe you'll try selling things in Diagon Alley? Within minutes, someone from the Ministry will confiscate your stall and fine you. So what then? Starve?"
His voice dropped lower, colder. "You could turn to theft—but the Aurors love catching desperate fools. Still, the Weasleys wouldn't break the law, would they? So what's left? You'd turn to the Muggle world. And that, Weasley, means being cast out of wizarding society entirely."
He gave a mirthless laugh. "And that's just legal suppression. If Malfoy wanted to take illegal measures—well, you know what Death Eaters are capable of. A handful of gold to some hired wizards, and one night your entire family could vanish. Do you think that hasn't happened before?"
Ronald paled. His anger was gone, replaced by a trembling voice. "Dumbledore—yes, Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn't just stand by! And our relatives—our friends—they'd help us."
"You think too much," Solim said quietly. "Our Headmaster can't intervene in such matters. And Malfoy despises him—why would he show him any courtesy? As for your relatives and friends—help you once or twice, maybe. But when your family becomes a burden, who will keep supporting you? No one does charity forever."
Hermione frowned. "According to you, if Malfoy really wanted to, the Weasleys would have no way out. Then why hasn't he done it?"
Solim almost laughed. Smart girl, he thought. "Exactly! Ahem—because there are things far more important to the Malfoys right now than destroying the Weasleys."
He turned to Draco, who looked smug. "And no, Draco, I don't mean you getting your kicks from teasing Ron."
"Me? What did I do?" Draco protested, confused.
Solim sighed. "Draco, the Malfoy family has withdrawn from the list of contracted families. You're the only heir left. If something happens to you, your family line ends there. Your father isn't working tirelessly for himself—he's paving the way for you. He's hoping you'll restore the family name and earn a new contract with the Presbyterian Council, securing the Malfoy legacy."
Draco's face turned pale as the weight of Solim's words sank in.
"Lucius has built a vast fortune," Solim continued. "But he's the only one holding it together. His magical skill isn't great—he's too busy politicking to practice. Without protection from the Council, if a few strong families joined forces against him, he'd crumble. That's why he keeps telling you to revive the Malfoy glory—to secure the family's future."
After a long silence, Draco straightened. "Solim, I want to learn magic from you. I'll make the Malfoy family strong again."
Then he glanced at Ronald. "But that doesn't mean I won't have some fun along the way. I just don't like him."
"I don't like you either, you vile Slytherin snake!" Ronald snapped. "You think I'll bow down to you? Never!"
Solim smacked his forehead. "Merlin's beard… I just spent half an hour talking sense into you two, and this is what I get?"
"Ronald!" Hermione barked sharply.
"Hmph! I'll never trust a Slytherin. If you want a fight, come and get it!" Ronald stormed off, slamming the door behind him. Harry hesitated, looking between Hermione and Solim, then sighed and followed his friend.
"Let them go," Solim said, stopping Hermione from calling after them. "I never expected those two to become friends. As long as they don't start hexing each other, I'm satisfied."
"Are you sure it'll be all right?" Hermione asked worriedly, glancing at the door.
"What's the worst that can happen? A few lost points?" Solim shrugged indifferently.
"A few points?" Hermione exploded. "That was a hundred points! A hundred! We'll never earn that back. The House Cup is hopeless now!"
"The House Cup?" Solim blinked, genuinely surprised. "I didn't think you'd care about that."
For him, such trophies meant nothing—mere symbols without substance. But Hogwarts students were unreasonably obsessed with House pride and Quidditch victories. Solim couldn't understand it. To him, the House Cup was meaningless—its prestige worth far less than the Quidditch Cup, which at least demanded real skill.
He rarely volunteered answers in class unless called upon. Most lessons were theoretical, and he'd mastered those concepts years ago. Hogwarts focused on theory, while Schuyler—the academy he'd once attended—focused on practice: how to fight, how to kill, and how to survive. Compared to Schuyler, Hogwarts was a playground. Schuyler's instructors were great wizards—true masters of magic—while Hogwarts' education seemed shallow in comparison.
"Wait, Solim," Hermione suddenly said, her brow furrowed. "You mentioned earlier that Neville's family had dark wizards too?"
"Of course," Solim said, as if it were obvious. "Why wouldn't they?"
Hermione blinked. "But… the Longbottoms are a pure and noble family!"
"And?" Solim raised an eyebrow. "You know, your definition of a 'dark wizard' isn't quite the same as ours."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked cautiously.
"Before we get into that," Solim said, looking around at Hermione, Draco, and Neville, "tell me—what do you think makes someone a dark wizard? And what makes someone a white wizard?"
"The books say dark wizards are evil, cruel people who use dark magic," Hermione began earnestly.
Solim rubbed his temples, exhaling deeply. "Hermione, let me give you a piece of advice. When it comes to history or biographies, don't believe everything you read—especially the ones written after the war. Most of them are propaganda."
He sighed, then looked at the group again. "All right, let's clear up some of these misconceptions…"