Chapter 330 : Return to England
"Phineas!"
Just as Phineas was studying Native American magic in the room, Stefan burst through the door, visibly panicked.
"Stefan? What happened? Why are you so flustered?"
Phineas looked up from the messy stack of parchments covering the table.
Stefan walked over quickly and handed him a piece of parchment.
Phineas took it and saw that it was a letter—written by Damon, addressed to Stefan. But instead of discussing family matters, the content detailed recent events in Britain and across Europe.
This wasn't unusual. The American and European branches often exchanged information to ensure smooth coordination among Phineas's network. To disguise their communication, Damon and Stefan used their brotherly relationship to send letters disguised as family correspondence. Alongside actual family letters, these passed through Phineas's various intelligence channels. The blend of truth and falsehood helped cover their tracks.
However, for something to rattle a continental leader like Stefan, it couldn't be minor.
Phineas carefully read the letter's contents. His eyes widened, and he gasped in disbelief.
"How is this possible?"
He looked up at Stefan.
"Is this information confirmed? Is it true?"
Stefan nodded gravely. "I've already had it verified. I also wrote to Damon for confirmation. If he wrote about this and sent it directly to me, it's almost certainly true. He knows you're here with me."
Phineas exhaled deeply, slumping into his chair, his eyes distant.
"When Corvus was executed publicly by the Council of Elders, they secretly wiped out the entire Lestrange family? How could they? Are they not afraid that the Blacks or the Selwyns will rebel like the Riches did?"
The Lestranges were one of the Consular Families—the true leadership of the French magical world. Nearly every pure-blood family in France aligned with them. Eliminating the Lestranges would surely plunge France into chaos. It was a move that defied logic and endangered the magical world's future.
Stefan sighed. "It happened just yesterday. Damon himself doesn't understand what it all means yet, so—"
Phineas cut him off with a wave, leaning back into deep thought. Stefan stood quietly, waiting.
After a while, Phineas suddenly sat upright.
"Stefan! Bring me all the recent reports Damon has sent. We must have overlooked something. There must be a larger plan behind this. The Council of Elders wouldn't act so recklessly otherwise."
His tone was certain. He didn't speak as if speculating—it was fact to him.
When Phineas made a decision in that tone, Stefan didn't hesitate. No matter how close they were, Phineas was still his leader. Orders were followed—no questions asked, even if they led to death. That was true of Stefan, Damon, and Lisa alike.
Over a decade ago, when Phineas was just a teenager, he had already earned unwavering loyalty from those around him—loyalty they would give their lives for.
Now, because of Phineas's stay in America, Damon and Stefan had increased their correspondence to daily or even more frequent updates, to keep Phineas informed of the European situation in real-time.
So what Stefan handed over wasn't just one letter—it was an entire file box filled with detailed intelligence reports.
"You're all very thorough," Phineas said emotionally as he glanced at the timestamps on the documents.
Stefan shook his head. "The brothers below do most of the hard work."
"Well, next month, their salaries go up. Yours too."
Stefan nodded modestly.
Phineas turned to the file box, flipping through the reports.
Most of them described the war between the Council of Elders and the Rich family. The battlefield had spread from the German border into neighboring countries—and even into Muggle territory. Muggle communities near the conflict zones had suffered attacks. Combat spells flew recklessly; Muggles were injured and killed daily, collateral damage to wizards who no longer cared to conceal themselves.
Other reports painted an even darker picture.
One, in particular, showed the Council of Elders had slowly encroached upon the Lestrange family's sphere of influence. They waited until they had full control of the French magical world before executing the purge.
"Immortal, indeed..." Phineas muttered bitterly.
The Elders had used the war with the Riches to draw attention away, secure France, and then eliminate the Lestranges as punishment for betrayal.
"That wizard who betrayed Corvus to the Council—does he regret it now?" Phineas sneered. "Trying to please the Elders, he doomed his own family. And the Elders with Lestrange blood—how awkward their positions must be now."
He couldn't help but laugh at the irony.
If the betrayal hadn't occurred, everything could have happened quietly. Once they reached godhood, their families could have overthrown the Elders. Now all was lost.
"Wait—!"
Phineas's eyes locked onto a particular report.
The chief elder of the Selwyn family had contacted thechief elder of Council of Elders in secret. Soon after, he announced that all of Greece would be governed directly by the Council. The Selwyns had renounced their status as a Consular Family and become the Council's enforcers.
At first, Phineas had dismissed the move as self-preservation, similar to the Rich rebellion. After all, Elrond Selwyn and his grandson had fled.
But viewed alongside the Lestranges, it looked different.
Selwyn had surrendered completely. In doing so, the Council could trust them and avoid betrayal. The Lestranges, likely, had refused such a proposal—and paid the price.
That meant the Black family was next.
"Stefan," Phineas said suddenly, "get ready. I'm returning to England. Not tomorrow—tonight."
Stefan was startled. "Why so urgently? What happened?"
Phineas handed him the report. "This may not have been Selwyn's idea. The Council probably forced them. The Blacks could be next."
Stefan paled. "Master! Do you want me to come with you? The brothers are ready to fight the Council."
He rarely used the word "Master" these days—this showed how seriously he took the threat.
Phineas shook his head. "No. You're not of the Black family. I can't involve you in their affairs. Not yet. Besides, this return might not end in battle."
But both men knew the truth.
Only two outcomes awaited Phineas.
Either he surrendered like the Selwyns—and was discarded like a pawn.
Or, like the Riches, he rebelled and started a war.
And Phineas had never been one to surrender.
That night, with Stefan's help, Phineas used a Portkey to return to the land he had called home for over ten years—the UK.
His first destination was Hogwarts.
"Phineas? Why are you here?"
Dumbledore looked genuinely surprised to see him.
Phineas bowed. "Professor, you've surely heard about Selwyn. The Black family is in grave danger. I've come to ask for your help."
Dumbledore studied him carefully. "You must understand—I am not a member of the Council of Elders, but I will not easily oppose them either."
"I understand, Professor," Phineas said calmly. "I'm not asking you to fight them or involve Hogwarts. I only need your help with one thing."
"What is it?" Dumbledore asked cautiously.
Phineas smiled and spoke two simple words:
"Soul sublimation."
The color drained from Dumbledore's face.
"Soul sublimation? You're advancing to Legendary? You've reached it?"
Phineas smiled faintly. "By sheer luck."
Dumbledore was stunned. Even he hadn't reached Legendary until he was past fifty. And yet, here was Phineas—not even seventeen.
"When?" Dumbledore asked after a long silence.
"Tomorrow. At Nicolas's manor."
"You've not forgotten I don't know where that is?"
"I remember. I'll have Puff fetch you."
"Very well. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Until then."
Phineas departed Hogwarts, bringing Harry and Leah with him.
Hermione and the others were relatively safe—the Weasley and Lovegood families had joined Black, but they weren't direct descendants.
Harry and Leah were another matter entirely.
Leah was Phineas's fiancée—now a direct member of the Black family.
Harry was Sirius's godson, heir to the Potter line, with strong ties to Black. The Council could easily see him as a target.
Now that war with the Elders was inevitable, Hogwarts was no longer safe for them. They needed protection—somewhere hidden and secure.
That place was Nicolas's manor.
Though France had fallen to the Council, Nicolas's estate remained untouched.
And the Council of Elders would never find it.