Chapter 21: Chaos is a Ladder Bitch Part 2

Moments later, Gaydore arrived in front of the great hall, completely out of breath. Apparently, his burning chicken wasn't around, or he just felt like running for a bit. Anyway, all the portraits in his office had been going wild—shouting and calling bloody murder, and how the school was under threat, or how there was an attack, and so on and so forth.

There, in front of the door, his loyal friend Sluggy was waiting for him, his face as white as a sheet of paper, and he was out of breath, with a visible imprint of a hand on his cheek.

"Well, someone got his face slapped, but the question is, who did the slapping?!" Gaydore asked Sluggy as soon as he saw his expression and the imprint on his face.

"I don't know. They didn't explain why they're here! They barged in, started insulting one another, and then asked for you to get here. When I tried to inquire, they started insulting me, and when I tried to calm them down, someone slapped me. But before I could say anything, the lot of them old bastards just kicked me out," Sluggy explained, a bit unnerved by the experience.

"In fact, they did kick out everyone except their children. But only because they said if you touch my family, I will gut you like a fish, or something like that, to one another," Sluggy added, meekly.

Inside the great hall, a dozen or so children and a dozen elderly folks were sitting, spread out across the hall, and were talking.

In one corner, the Prince duo was sipping tea and waiting for Gaydore's arrival; in another corner, the Blacks were surrounding their Lord, and further away, more people were mingling with their children or grandchildren.

"Where's the kid?" Gramps finally asked me after a long silence.

"Not here," I replied, because hiding it at this point wasn't going to work. He knew that I did stupid shit and got away with it. So, the old man wasn't worried, neither was he doubting that anyone but me could pull off such a stunt without leaving behind any proof.

"Is he alive?!" He asked with scrunched-up eyebrows.

"Gramps, you're hurting me! I wouldn't kill some idiotic kid just because he's an impotent idiot who doesn't know that he's messing with his betters," I replied in mock outrage.

*Sigh*

"Good! But why did you do it?" He asked me as he sipped his tea.

"Well, I could say they started it, because as always, they do start messing with me. But the actual truth is that I was simply bored out of my mind, and I wanted to use them while they're still at school to get some benefits for myself," I said, everything but basically nothing.

"More benefits?!" He asked me.

"Oh, yeah. They're already paying me a little fortune to make me shut up, but one can never have enough funds, right?!" I asked with a smirk.

"Well, being cunning is a family trait, but you're taking it too far by kidnapping someone's child while still inside the school, and under Dumbledore's eyes," he said, a bit tired out.

"I did not kidnap, nobody! I rat-napped him. And the old fool needs a wake-up call. He's too drunk on his reputation," I said, giving the man a hint as well as an indirect warning.

He looked at me for a second before a grin spread on his face.

"You mean!?" he semi-asked, semi-exclaimed.

"Yes!" I replied.

"All of them?!" He asked me.

"Nah, just the bigger part of their group," I replied, and he fell back to contemplate.

"But why?! Or rather, how?!" He asked.

"Can't disclose! Pesky magic in place," I replied as I sipped tea, and I saw a dangerous glint pass through his eyes.

He looked at me for a few seconds before a wide grin spread on his face.

"Do you know what magical oaths are?" He suddenly asked me, and of course, I did because who doesn't.

"Yes, I do," I replied.

"No. No, you don't because nobody does!" He said, amused at my answer.

"Oh, then what are they?" I asked him.

"Why should I tell you? You've your secrets and I have mine," he said.

*Sigh*

"Oh, almighty Lord Prince, please enlighten me with your endless wisdom," I said to him.

"Haha, I love it. Sounds like music to my old ears," he said, amused at my defeat.

"So?!" I inquired, annoyed.

"Chill, boy. An oath is like a dumbed-down ritual. Rituals are typically formal and take place in a prescribed way, often in a broader context. Rituals follow established patterns, such as the person undergoing the ritual having to sacrifice something. Next is the when and where? And finally, the agreement," he explained.

"So?!" I asked.

"When you spoke that oath, you gave up your freedom, but here's the thing you apparently have not considered yet. You are not the you of that time, are you?!" He asked me cryptically.

Well, I am me, but after that ritual Gramps tricked me into undertaking, I was reborn as Severus Ulysses Prince. I spoke that oath as Severus Prince. Can it really be that easy?! I wondered to myself.

"Are you sure?!" I asked him.

"Of course I am," he said in mock hurt.

I tried to tell him the truth and feel if magic will intervene or try to stop me. An oath makes it basically impossible not to uphold your part.

If you just think about breaking your word, you feel magic weighing down on you as a warning that you are about to commit a mistake.

But I did not feel anything. Although I feel that I am still me, apparently, to magic itself, my identity has changed.

"Interesting," I muttered.

"Indeed, right?" My Gramps replied.

"So, what now?" I asked him.

"That is up to you. How do you want to play this out?" He asked me.

"I want them to bleed, but I don't want them to die," I said.

See, I don't have to go for the kill on anyone, but I have to milk them dry for what they're worth. One thing I learned from watching too many YouTube videos as a teen is that I know quite the answer to anything that life can throw at me. I just have to apply said knowledge in a way that isn't self-destructive.

Like, I know thieves and pirates never went for the kill because why should they?! If they kill their victims, the number of merchants will go down. The best option is to ask for protection money, followed by fleecing them for what they're worth, and finally, taking hostages that you can ransom, and only then comes killing. But only if you want to send out a message that you're meaning business and are not kidding.

"Well, if that is what my dear grandson wants, it shall be what we go for," he said smugly, and just at this moment, Gaydore opened the door and marched in, his aura flaring wildly.

Gaydore's entrance into the room was quite dramatic, his aura seeming to weigh down on everyone present. His eyes scanned the hall, immediately locking onto me and my gramps.

"What's the meaning of all this chaos?!" he demanded, his voice booming and resonating through the room.

'Oh, I think he's done playing nice!' I thought happily. If the old man dropped the facade, then I could too.

See, I give no two shits about anything that doesn't benefit me, but there's some value in maintaining a certain image. Take Elon Tusk, or whatever his name was, an obvious racist who cloaked himself in the guise of intelligence and free speech to sell his products to a diverse market.

Gramps leaned back, sipping his tea casually, seemingly unfazed by the commotion. "Oh, Dumbledore, what's got your feathers ruffled?! We're just here having a reunion, nothing too serious," he replied with a smirk.

Gaydore's gaze narrowed, suspicion evident in his eyes. "Reunion, you say? This seems more like a battlefield than a friendly gathering," he retorted, gesturing to the tense atmosphere in the hall.

Lord Black stepped forward, deciding to take control of the situation before it spiralled out of hand. "Dumbledore, let me explain," he began, attempting to sound composed despite the chaotic energy pulsating in the room.

Thanks to Gaydore's little act, every single one of these old foggies was now openly displaying their auras to their fullest extent. And oh boy, was it exciting! I could feel the pressure, my knees hurting under the strain, not to mention the pale faces of the other children, including the Blacks and the Marauders.

"What's there to explain?! We've had a little… disagreement among ourselves, right? My esteemed colleagues," Gramps chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Gaydore's expression remained stern, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "And do tell, why are you and your esteemed colleagues here in my school?" he inquired, his gaze darting between the other elders and Gramps.

I glanced at Gramps, silently urging him to reveal the truth. "We are here because a student has gone missing under your watch!" he finally admitted, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Gaydore's eyebrows shot up in surprise and anger as his eyes focused on me.

He knew I was at fault, but magic be blessed, he couldn't do anything! Take that, you old fart! Did you think I'd take shit from you just because you're more powerful than me for now?! I'll take this as interest, and the real revenge will come soon enough.

"The boy is alright and still within the school," he remarked dryly, though there was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Some of the weaker people chuckled nervously, realizing that Gaydore wasn't going to let this slide easily. "Well, you know how it is, Ladies and Gentlemen. Sometimes, things just… are not as they seem," Sluggy replied, trying to downplay the situation.

Gaydore's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, as if trying to decipher my true intentions. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head. "I don't have time for this. Just make sure this mess is cleaned up before it gets out of hand," he ordered, before turning on his heel and attempting to storm out of the great hall.

But just as he opened the door and was about to run away, my gramps fired a spell at the door and shut it close in front of Dumbledore's nose. As the door slammed shut in front of him, a heavy silence descended upon the hall. Everyone exchanged shocked glances, all aware that this scenario was far from over.

"Well, congratulations, Lord Prince! You have made me angry!" Gaydore remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.

I couldn't help but grin in response.

"IS THAT SO?! Is the great Albus Wulfric Dumbledore angry?!" Gramps questioned, already plotting his next move in his mind.

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