Erwin had no intention of holding back. He laid out his entire plan for Snape without reservation. Snape was one of the few he trusted implicitly.
"So, that dead Muggle..." Snape began.
"He was a sacrifice," Erwin replied. "Even if Yaxley hadn't finished him off, the fool would've taken his own life back in the Yaxley manor. His death handed us the perfect pretext—a righteous counterstrike from the Selwyn family."
Snape fell silent, his dark eyes narrowing. He'd pieced together bits of the scheme earlier, but hearing it all laid bare chilled him. It wasn't just clever; it was ruthless, every contingency mapped out like a chessboard. Yaxley had danced exactly to Erwin's tune, handing over a casus belli on a silver platter.
After a tense pause, Snape probed further. "Are you certain it'll unfold exactly as you envision?"
Erwin shook his head. "Not entirely. Before setting this in motion, I gamed out over a dozen scenarios, with counters for each. The endgame? Yaxley ignites a pure-blood war. That's the path I've carved for him—no detours, no escapes."
Snape's voice sharpened. "And you're confident enough to dismantle the Yaxley family entirely?"
Erwin paused, weighing his words. "Moderately. Variables abound—like interference from Yaxley's backers. Godfather, you know he's allied with the Selwyn family. They might not stand idly by while I crush him. I can neutralize his visible forces, but the Selwyns? That's a wildcard. I know next to nothing about them."
Snape nodded slowly. "Leave that aside. Once a Pure-Blood War erupts, even the Selwyns can't meddle. It's a global accord among pure-blood houses: only the combatants clash. Outsiders intervene, and every other family piles in against them."
Erwin's eyes lit with understanding. "Then it's settled. The Yaxleys are done for."
Snape frowned, skepticism etching his features. "Why such certainty? The Yaxleys aren't pushovers. Frankly, I doubt Muggle firearms pose much threat to wizards. I've seen your toys—a simple Shield Charm blocks them cold. Even deadlier ones might wound, but kill? Wizards Apparate. They hit and vanish, turning any brawl into a nightmare of ambushes."
Erwin grinned, a spark of mischief in his gaze. "It's time you saw for yourself, Godfather. Fancy a trip to Diagon Alley for the show?"
Snape arched an eyebrow, intrigue warring with doubt. Erwin offered his arm without further explanation. Snape gripped it firmly.
In a swirl of Apparition, they materialized in the back room of Selwyn's Magical Supplies in Diagon Alley. Old Tom and Rivers stood waiting, their postures snapping to attention at Erwin's arrival.
Their eyes gleamed with anticipation—until they spotted Snape. Rivers' gaze sharpened, a flicker of wariness crossing his face.
Erwin caught it but said nothing, turning to Old Tom instead. "Casualties?"
Old Tom straightened. "None fatal on our end. The Yaxleys grew complacent, banking too hard on their Muggle-Repelling Charms. They never saw the Dark Mark bearers—our master's plants—arming the charges. Two lads took some debris in the blast; too slow on the evac. The rest walked away clean. Yaxley manor? It's a bonfire now. Their losses... we'll hear soon enough."
Erwin nodded crisply. "Good enough. Diagon Alley's stage set? Godfather's here for the fireworks."
Old Tom shot Snape a surprised glance before recovering. "Greetings, Professor."
Snape inclined his head curtly, his attention shifting to Rivers with a subtle scrutiny. Old Tom edged forward instinctively, positioning himself as a shield.
Erwin noted the tension but let it slide. "Everything primed, Tom?"
"Absolutely, Master. It'll be a spectacle worth remembering."
"Right, then. Let's light it up." Erwin turned to Snape. "Godfather, after you."
They stepped out, flanked by Old Tom. The shop's doors swung wide, revealing two lines of burly enforcers in crisp black suits—the iron core of the Selwyn operation. They thundered a salute: "Master!"
Erwin acknowledged them with a firm nod, scanning the bustling alley. Wizards paused mid-stride, eyeing the procession with open curiosity—and no small alarm. Muggles in wizarding garb? Armed to the teeth? And flanked by Snape, the infamous Potions Master? Whispers rippled like wind through the crowd.
Erwin raised his voice, steady and resonant, drawing every eye. "The Yaxley family declared war on us—a pure-blood war. I won't pretend to grasp all the ancient rules. What I know is this: Rivers died by their hand. One of ours, gone because they couldn't stomach a little competition."
A low growl rose from his men, faces hardening into masks of fury.
Erwin pressed on, his tone laced with grim resolve. "All I wanted was to open this shop, sell affordable supplies, put Galleons in wizards' pockets who need them. Brew a potion, fill your belly—that's the dream for too many scraping by. But the Yaxleys? They saw me cutting into their margins and couldn't abide it. They demanded I hike prices to match theirs. I refused. And for that, they unleashed this war."
Murmurs swelled among the onlookers—shock, sympathy, outrage. A few nodded knowingly; Diagon Alley's underbelly thrived on such cutthroat dealings. Erwin's words painted the Selwyns not as aggressors, but defenders of the common wizard.
Snape watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But Erwin caught the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth—a rare sign of approval amid the gathering storm.
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the cobblestones, Old Tom signaled the crew. From hidden vantage points, the first charges hummed to life. Distant booms echoed from the Yaxley estate's direction, followed by plumes of smoke rising like dark omens.
The crowd gasped, but Erwin stood tall, wand at the ready. "This is justice," he declared. "For Rivers. For every wizard they've bled dry."
Snape leaned in, murmuring low. "Impressive theatrics. But the real fireworks?"
Erwin smirked. "Just wait. The Yaxleys won't know what hit them."
With that, the alley erupted—not in chaos, but in a calculated blaze of retribution. Explosions lit the horizon, strategic blasts that crippled without endangering innocents. Snape's doubts began to crack as the display unfolded: Muggle ingenuity wedded to wizarding precision, proving that even in a world of spells, the old ways could shatter like glass.
By nightfall, Diagon Alley buzzed with tales of the Selwyn stand. Erwin had turned defense into legend, and the pure-blood war had its opening salvo.
...
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Bonus chapter progress:
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Every stone gets us closer.