Chapter 20

Evening. Milos Scepaniak.

The boy was not in the best of spirits. In truth, few would be after overseeing an operation that, under his supervision, had essentially failed. It wasn't a total disaster — they had managed to pull off a few things unnoticed amidst the chaos — but the primary objective had not been achieved.

And now, he had no idea what that... arrogant, pure-blooded dandy would demand for his silence.

Milos had, ha-ha, the "honor" of meeting the current prefect of the wolves back in his first year. As is often the case with irreconcilable adversaries, their first encounter had been far from pleasant. That so-called noble and upright guy had, when it came down to it, sided with some idiot. An idiot who was unremarkable in every way in class, yet had the nerve to demand that Scepaniak lower his academic performance, just because Milos was outperforming him — a supposedly important pure-blood.

Instead of showing any of that vaunted nobility, that damn Stahlwolf didn't stand up for the better student, but supported that fool instead!

And if even a person whom everyone constantly referred to as a man of honor behaved like that, then what nobility could we even be talking about? It exists only in fairy tales, not in real life.

Milos had learned that lesson well and for good.

Taking a deep breath, Scepaniak tried to calm himself down.

No matter how much he despised the hypocrisy of that pretty blond boy, the German was no fool, and communicating with him couldn't be done on pure emotion. Milos had learned to learn not only from his own mistakes but also from the mistakes of others.

Too many of them thought that the noble bastard had no brains, unlike his noble family name and pretty face. And just as many times, these idiots, right in front of the half-blood's eyes, were harshly disappointed, while Stahlwolf only climbed higher over their heads.

Eventually, he reached the highest position among the students.

That's why he was considered the main threat to all the Unjoined and their supporters from outside Durmstrang. Among the students, of course, but still.

Frowning, Milos glanced at his escorts. Since he had decided to meet the leader of the pure-bloods in person, he hadn't hesitated to bring along some older sixth-years with him.

They didn't hold any special status, as they lacked any outstanding talent or skills that could be useful, and at first, they had been more than happy to suck up to the main players in the school.

As a result, they now found themselves having to obey a fourth-year. To their credit, though, at least they didn't complain, understanding the situation they were in.

"Do we really need to talk to this high-born prick? Why don't we just tell him off and be done with it?"

...Not all of them, however, were either silent or smart enough to know when to keep their mouths shut.

"That's exactly why I'm the one in charge here," Milos turned around, casting a displeased glance at the sixth-year.

Despite his greater size and age, the older boy took a step back.

"No, but seriously, I don't get it. So it didn't work out because of some brats, what's the big deal"

"Shut up, just shut up, Dietrich," Milos sighed heavily, hearing footsteps a few seconds later. And since all his companions were already here, the only people coming to this place at this time had to be... particular individuals. "We'll finish this later, I'll explain everything, but not now!" Milos turned back around, staring ahead as three figures emerged from the darkness of the corridor.

The first one was instantly recognizable. That smug, blue-eyed blond was famous throughout the school, especially among the girls. But the two who followed behind him... Milos frowned.

Normally, Stahlwolf would show up with his best friend Ivan Volgin, or Erika Stadtfels, or Anton Karpishin.

He immediately recognized the blonde girl, one of Stahlwolf's current companions. The Finnish girl with the long name and surname had ambitions for Stahlwolf's position, at least for when he moved up to the senior courses and became more occupied with his graduation exams than with his status. That's why Edelfelt had drawn the attention of the Unjoined.

But why was that other girl, dressed even more extravagantly than most pure-bloods, standing next to him? She wasn't even pretending, unlike the hypocritical Stahlwolf who deceived everyone else! She was the epitome of a dumb, rich spendthrift! Why would a calculating and cunning opponent like him choose someone like... her?

The third companion...

"Seriously?! What are you planning?! Velvet, Velvet?! Him?! That weakling?!" Milos internally screamed when he realized who else the leader of the pure-bloods had brought along.

"Greetings," the blond said, folding his hands behind his back and flashing an open smile. But for Milos, that pretense had stopped working back in his first year. Edelfelt followed with a sneer, but still gave a nod, while the Swede simply offered a cautious acknowledgment.

"Let's not waste time beating around the bush, as the bears say," Milos stepped forward, fixing his gaze firmly on those deceitful pure-blooded eyes.

No, calm down, Milos, calm down. Even if his companions seem unusual, Stahlwolf is still Stahlwolf. Stay calm, the boy thought to himself.

"I'll be blunt. What do you want?"

"Hmm..." Stahlwolf made a thoughtful, surprised face. "I'm not quite sure..." The blond's gaze swept over Milos's companions. "Since your... group of interests won't cease its activities for the sake of peace and a friendly atmosphere in this school..." he said, twirling his hand in a gesture of dismissal.

Milos barely suppressed a smirk. Cease? Not a chance. They were only going to expand, especially since he had already realized that with each passing year, more and more half-bloods were enrolling, and soon enough they'd outnumber the pure-bloods. And when that time came — maybe even sooner — the Unjoined would force these snobs to take their interests into account. With each graduating ally, their support outside Durmstrang was only growing stronger.

"And?" Milos said patiently, still managing to maintain his composure.

"Hmm... Let's settle on this: your little group will stop making... let's say, unfriendly moves toward my House," Stahlwolf's wandering gaze quickly focused on the fourth-year, nearly making him flinch. "Until I graduate," the fifth-year added with an innocent smile.

"I don't know what moves you're talking about, but no," Milos gritted his teeth at the sheer audacity, feeling the anger rise from his companions.

Edelfelt's arrogant smile wilted at his response, and she shot a look of open hostility at Milos, which he found rather amusing. When these pure-bloods, who always acted like they were in control, started getting upset — it was a delightful sight.

Velvet, on the other hand, was clearly out of his element, nervously shifting his gaze between Milos and his boss.

"How... unwise of you," Stahlwolf said calmly, though unfortunately, the most arrogant bastard of them all wasn't so easily rattled. If only he were as dumb as that Finnish girl... a brainless spendthrift.

"It's a matter of principle," Milos added. He couldn't agree to that, not even under the threat of having their scheme exposed. The latter would be costly, but not as much as three whole years of inactivity against the very heart of their opponents.

"Until the end of this year. That, too, is a matter of principle," Stahlwolf emphasized, once again wearing that irritating smile, his tone stressing the penultimate word.

"Half a year," the Unjoined boy countered.

"What astonishing boldness from a half-blood," Stahlwolf remarked, clearly perturbed by the audacity — much to Milos's satisfaction, of course. "For that, I can offer no more than ten months from today," the blond continued, his face remaining impassive.

"Seven," Milos haggled back openly. Unfortunately, the situation was forcing him to negotiate. If his opponent decided that the benefit wasn't worth concealing the information, things could get bad. Not as bad as with Stahlwolf's first offer, but still not ideal. Everyone loved Quidditch, and such a setup would hurt their reputation. It was a risky venture, though one that had promised substantial rewards.

He should've ignored the fifth-years from the Unjoined who thought too highly of themselves. Fortunately, they had gone silent now, and he hadn't been harmed — everyone knew, after all, that he had been practically forced to go along with the idea. He had been persuaded during the general meeting of almost all the important Unjoined members.

"At this rate... let's just agree on eight months and two weeks from today," Stahlwolf tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes fixed on Milos, clearly demanding an answer.

"Agreed. And if you have nothing else, we're leaving," Milos said curtly, not willing to engage further with the pure-blood and risk falling into some kind of trap.

"So eager to go," came the voice behind him, but the half-blood only quickened his pace. He had no intention of reacting to such a cheap provocation.

Without him, those two idiots — who, through some unfortunate twist of fate, had been born a few years earlier — would have already been squabbling with Stahlwolf, who was surely waiting for just that.

So much, so much still needed to be done on the path to his goal, it was almost overwhelming.