"Perhaps, like It, it is simply a presence that does not belong to this era."
Korhog's expression shifted immediately into something animated and eager. "Then what are we waiting for? Capture it, that gives us considerably more leverage, doesn't it?"
Albert shook his head. "Samuel, Usagi and It don't belong to the same system. We don't have the resources to open an entirely new line of research right now."
"I came to tell you one thing: do not engage Tom Riddle or his creature directly. That path will cost more than you gain. The only way to beat him is through the rules. Get him into one of our prisons, and whatever secrets he's carrying will eventually be ours."
Korhog nodded slowly. He had to concede the logic. There was still a site that hadn't been fully excavated, and there simply wasn't enough talent to spare for another undertaking. He also knew, perhaps better than most, precisely how formidable It truly was. It was the foundation beneath every ambition MACUSA quietly nursed. If even It felt a note of wariness toward Usagi, then the creature was not something you charged at with a squad of Aurors and good intentions.
But this left the immediate problem unresolved: what was the official response toward the Graves family going to be?
"Speaking of which, where is Robert? All of this started with him."
The name finally surfaced in Korhog's mind. He knew what Robert had been planning, using the incident at Hogwarts as a pretext to place oversight on Riddle's alchemical products, and eventually absorb the whole operation into the Graves family's holdings.
It had fallen apart spectacularly on the first move.
"He's in Paris with Babajide," Albert said. "I'll handle Robert personally. You need to reach Babajide and coordinate a joint approach, apply pressure from both sides. Make it impossible for even Dumbledore to shield him."
Korhog's expression turned ugly. "Killing wizards, using magic outside of school, it doesn't matter if it's Dumbledore. Even if Merlin himself came back from the dead, Riddle's not walking away clean. I'll bury him in charges!"
...
By morning, the news had grown wings and spread through every upper-level wizarding circle in North America.
The story that reached them: the Graves family had been comprehensively dismantled by a thirteen-year-old boy. More than a dozen of them, and not one had landed a meaningful blow. Every wand had been snapped. There had been casualties.
When people first heard it, most assumed it was an early April Fool's joke. But the rumors came from too many directions to dismiss, each one confirming the same details.
Several curious visitors made their way to the Graves estate and saw the sign with their own eyes. The thoughtful Mr. Riddle had added a Lumos charm to it, ensuring it remained clearly visible even in the dead of night.
...
At the Voray estate, Andrew relayed the news to Cassandra. She stood completely motionless for a full several minutes, staring at nothing, before snapping back and grabbing her WhatsApp Directory.
[Cassandra: Tom, have you lost your mind? The Graves family wants you in pieces and the MACUSA President has already sent people after you. Why would you do something this reckless?]
If she had known Tom was going off to do something this seismic after leaving New York, she would have glued herself to him with permanent-sticking charm and refused to let go.
[Tom: The news is only spreading now? That's slower than I expected.]
[Tom: Relax. I'm not an idiot. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have a way to handle the consequences.]
[Cassandra: What way to handle it?! People died!]
[Tom: What do you think about me going to Grindelwald? Let MACUSA and the International Confederation try to come to Berlin and arrest me there.]
Cassandra stared at the words on the page.
She hated to admit it, but that was... actually rather effective. If Tom were in Berlin, no matter how furious the American wizards got, Grindelwald wouldn't spare them a second glance.
[Cassandra: You... are you seriously going to defect to Grindelwald? What about the Greengrass sisters and Granger, are you just leaving them behind?]
[Tom: I'm joking. Hogwarts suits me fine. Stop worrying about my situation and think about how to keep moving the product. Or are you telling me the entire North American market is about to boycott my goods over the Graves thing?]
[Cassandra: Not a chance. The Graves family doesn't have that kind of reach. As long as there's money to be made, my father would stab them in the back himself right now.]
Tom smiled at that. Entirely in keeping with that country's particular character, money first, loyalties a distant second.
He closed the notebook.
The objective was half achieved.
The Graves family was now a sign. Anyone who looked at them would understand exactly what Tom Riddle was, not someone you moved against without paying for it in full. Every scheme, every quiet ambition toward him, came with a price attached.
The other half would be complete once he weathered whatever formal challenge MACUSA decided to bring, and walked away without a scratch. But that was a problem for after Christmas.
Tom refused to let it touch his mood in the slightest. He directed the little Lucys in decorating the house with appropriately festive arrangements, then took to the air toward Paris, he had promised to bring the Flamel couple back to England for the holidays.
This year was shaping up to be a full house. Newt's family. The Greengrasses. The Flamels.
Tom had even briefly considered inviting Dumbledore.
He abandoned the idea shortly after.
The old man had been spending Christmas alone for decades. Surely he was used to it by now.