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HP: The Otherworlder

An endless void. A sea of black in which the passing of time holds no meaning. Then suddenly… light. But wait, why can’t he remember his name? Why are foreign memories of a boy named Tom Riddle Jr flooding his mind? Most importantly, why does the man with red eyes staring back at him feel so dangerous? 
Enter SI OC, Edmund Cole, shoved into the body of a young Tom Riddle in the summer of 1993… DISCLAIMER: I do not own the art or the literary works upon which this fanfiction is based. All rights belong to Zara H (@za_ra_h_ on Twitter) & J.K. Rowling, respectively.

BS6SC · 書籍·文学
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94 Chs

CH70 - The Neutral Faction

"Again," Marvolo commanded.

Ever since the dark lord had made his appearance in the public eye, his motives regarding Edmund's teaching seemed to have shifted. Before, martial ability and survivability were the only essential factors to consider. Now, his wizarding knowledge regarding the societal structure of magical Britain was also being prioritized. To what end, Edmund could not be sure.

'After all, my status as the heir isn't meant to be revealed any time soon, if ever... Right?' Edmund thought to himself unsurely.

The dark lord snarled, irritated at being ignored for even a second. A stinging curse magnitudes more potent than anything Elspeth had ever cast flew his way, grazing his hair like a bullet before its trajectory inevitably caused it to impact a wall.

Voldemort did not miss. Edmund knew that. Especially not against someone of his measly calibre. It was a warning. Still, he knew the dark lord would not punish him for asking a meaningful question.

"I don't understand why this is so important," Edmund half stated, half asked.

Marvolo gave him a pointed look as he sighed in exasperation.

'Get off my lawn!' Edmund could not help but think amusedly. If he had seen the expression on anyone else's face under age 60, he would have laughed openly. That probably was not the brightest idea in this scenario, considering his mentor's temper.

"Bulstrode," the dark lord repeated, this time more calmly.

Edmund decided to comply with his unasked demand.

"A darker-leaning family, tending to be sorted into Slytherin more often than not. Their views regarding muggles are as transparent as can be, yet most of their income comes from providing muggleborns with jobs. Of course, they pay infinitely lower than what ought to be legal. However, their associations with 'mudbloods' have still made them a social outcast within most circles they wish to be affiliated with," he summarized.

"Shafiq," Marvolo moved on, a surge of satisfaction coming his way through their bond.

"Another darker family, but one that doesn't even try to stay on the right side of the law. It's an open secret that they import slave labour from abroad, but their cover is transporting magical goods, which makes them obscenely rich. They're one of the wealthiest families in the wizarding world, comparable to the Blacks and the Flamels," Edmund responded.

A nod followed from Marvolo. "Burke."

Careful to keep all emotion out of his voice, Edmund replied with the same neutrality as he had been. "A merchant family through and through. They don't openly discriminate by blood, as their motto is all about profit, and alienation of their clientele would be counterintuitive. That said, their dealings are shady, and they make much of their business in acquiring that which cannot be obtained easily."

"Greengrass," the dark lord finished, his tone dipping in finality.

"Likely the holders of the most stably high income among the lords of the Wizengamot. The Greengrass line is known for being the biggest potion ingredient supplier in Britain and the rest of the continent, rumoured to own hundreds of greenhouses, each processing a singular plant," he outlined immediately. "I say rumours because no one actually knows where these greenhouses are, since all of their workers are under strict secrecy contracts to prevent the locations from being leaked."

"Good," Voldemort murmured, the word being the first audible praise he had given Edmund all day. "Even though we, as the traditionalists, hold the majority in the current climate, there are certain things we must constantly be aware of when proposing a new bill."

"There are certain houses that will always vote for the party they are associated with," the dark lord explained as a wave of his wand created a holographic image between them. A group of black beads sat in one corner and a cluster of white ones in another. "Whether with the traditionalists or the progressives."

"Others, however, are more troublesome," Marvolo frowned as a clump of grey beads formed between the two parties. "The neutrals, as they like to call themselves, only support motions that will directly profit them. They latch onto traditionalist policies that will lower their taxes and progressive policies that grant them more protection. They are, in every sense of the word, fence-sitters."

"They sit on the sidelines as chaos erupts, uncaring about the consequences so long as they do not bother them," the dark lord's lips curled into a smirk. "Until war breaks out, that is. You see, the neutrals are a rather unlikeable bunch, which means they tend to be targeted by every stakeholder during a conflict, and no one bothers to protect them."

"Take the war in the 70s, for example," he elaborated. "The Ministry banned the Greengrass family from selling to all persons wanted for questioning concerning death eater activity. Disregarding the orders would be seen as treason. However, following them ensured their stock was destroyed, and their storefronts were burned. If the conflict had not... de-escalated as it did, they would have been out of business within a few years. "

"Still, that demonstrates the point I was trying to illustrate. During times of peace, the neutral faction grows large and fat. During war, they are slashed to a mere fraction of their population. Hence, their numbers fluctuate, as does their importance," Marvolo concluded.

"Bulstrode, Shafiq, Burke, Greengrass, and a string of other smaller houses compose the neutrals at the moment," Voldemort listed as he raised one of the digits on his right hand each time he added a name.

"Know them, Edmund," the dark lord impressed upon him firmly. "Know their motivations, history, allies, and enemies. Know what makes them tick and what makes them crack. Know how far you can push without retaliation and what to expect when they eventually try to push back. Know how to manipulate their reactions to your actions."

"I understand," Edmund nodded.

"See that you do," Voldemort agreed. "There's no telling when Marvolo Slytherin might be in need of you knowing that information. It has been far too long since the neutrals have felt any fear."

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Thank you for reading!

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