Chapter 168: Applying Pressure
"All I want is for that Mudblood to be thrown out of Hogwarts."
All the way there, Cyrian Rosier kept ranting non-stop, his voice dripping with resentment.
It only made Knight Rosier's already foul mood worse.
"Enough," he snapped under his breath.
Seeing Cyrian's stunned expression, he forced himself to soften slightly.
"When we stand before Albus Dumbledore, mind your manners—unless you don't intend to remain at Hogwarts."
Knight knew his son all too well.
On his own, Cyrian could at least restrain himself.
But with his father backing him?
There was no telling what reckless nonsense he might say.
Still—
Knight wasn't arrogant enough to think he could truly confront Dumbledore head-on.
The only reason he dared apply pressure…
was because of Hogwarts' rules.
No matter how one looked at it—
using Dark Magic was a far graver offense than striking someone with a Bludger.
Dumbledore, for his part, clearly took the matter seriously.
He personally came to receive them at the castle entrance.
"It has been quite some time, Headmaster," Knight said, his face covered in polite smiles.
Despite his hostile intent—
he maintained perfect courtesy.
After all, the Rosier family could not afford to lose face.
"It has indeed been many years," Dumbledore replied gently.
His gaze shifted to Cyrian.
"It seems you've recovered well. Come along."
He led them toward the Headmaster's office.
Along the way—
students whispered and pointed.
Everyone already knew what Cyrian had done during the match.
Whatever the outcome—
one thing was certain:
he would never return to the Slytherin Quidditch team.
"What's wrong with them?" Flora Rosier asked uneasily.
Dumbledore merely smiled—
offering no answer.
"Now then, Mr. Rosier," Dumbledore said as he took his seat, casually placing a plate of sweets before them,
"perhaps you could explain your purpose in coming here today."
None of them touched the desserts.
A small disappointment flickered across Dumbledore's eyes.
"Let's skip the pleasantries, Professor Dumbledore."
Knight stood, taking a slow breath.
"My son—Cyrian Rosier—has always been an exemplary student. His conduct and performance have been nothing short of excellent."
"And yet, just days ago, he was attacked with Dark Magic—seriously injured."
"What is even more shocking—"
His tone hardened.
"—is that Hogwarts has chosen to turn a blind eye to the perpetrator."
"No action has been taken whatsoever."
"I find that… deeply disappointing."
He fixed Dumbledore with a steady gaze.
"Leaving aside Azkaban…"
"At the very least—"
"The student responsible should be expelled from Hogwarts."
Faced with Knight's carefully selective account, Dumbledore did not show the slightest anger.
Instead, he spoke calmly.
"First, I must correct a misunderstanding."
"According to the creator of the spell—Slytherin's Head of House, Severus Snape—this does not qualify as a curse."
"At most, it is… a rather powerful jinx."
He adjusted his glasses slightly.
"If students were to be expelled for using magic of this level…"
"I'm afraid a large portion of Slytherin House would no longer remain at Hogwarts."
"And furthermore," he continued,
"What makes you believe we have taken no action at all?"
"Mr. Fythorne has already been confined to the Ravenclaw common room for several days."
"Confinement?"
Cyrian Rosier almost laughed in anger.
"That's your punishment?"
"That's not punishment—that's practically a reward!"
"For you, perhaps," Dumbledore replied mildly.
"But for a student like Russell—"
"Every missed lesson is a loss of knowledge."
"That," he said softly, "is the true punishment."
Seeing Dumbledore's unshakable composure, Knight's expression gradually darkened.
"Professor Dumbledore," said Knight Rosier,
"I stand here today simply as a father—seeking justice for my son, who has been treated unfairly."
"If you continue to shield the culprit—"
"Then I will have no choice but to bring this matter before the Ministry of Magic."
"I trust… you would prefer to avoid such an outcome."
Dumbledore did not appear troubled in the slightest.
Instead, he offered a solution.
"In that case—"
"Why not allow Mr. Fythorne to explain his reasoning himself?"
"…Very well."
Knight hesitated briefly, then agreed.
Russell Arrives
After days of confinement, Russell finally stepped out of the Ravenclaw common room—
and let out a quiet breath of relief.
Sure, he could have wandered freely at night using a Disillusionment Charm—
but a restriction was still a restriction.
And he had been thoroughly bored.
His eyes landed on Cyrian.
A faint, dangerous smile curved his lips.
"So, Rosier… recovered already?"
The tone—half mocking, half cold—made the air tighten.
"You've got some nerve," Knight snapped immediately, anger reigniting.
"You're nothing but a Mudblood—yet you dare injure a noble pure-blood wizard!"
Russell raised an eyebrow—
then glanced at Dumbledore.
He noticed something important.
Dumbledore's expression had darkened.
"Mr. Rosier," Dumbledore said, his voice calm but heavy,
"The term Mudblood is a grave insult."
"I believe you owe Mr. Fythorne an apology."
Under that pressure, Knight faltered slightly.
"Professor… I merely spoke in haste—chose my words poorly."
He defended himself—
carefully ignoring the part about apologizing.
Russell, however, didn't look angry at all.
Instead—
he smiled.
"Mr. Rosier," he said lightly,
"I think… you should be thanking me."
"…Thank you?"
Knight almost laughed in disbelief.
"For what? For nearly killing my son?"
"No."
Russell's smile remained calm—almost pleasant.
"For helping your son… and your entire family avoid a disaster."
The room grew quieter.
"…What do you mean?"
Knight's expression turned serious.
Because one thing was clear—
Russell wasn't joking.
"You are aware," Russell continued,
"that the student Cyrian attacked…"
"…is the eldest daughter of the Addams Family of this generation."
"What 'Addams family'? Never even heard of it."
Flora scoffed.
"Even if they're pure-bloods, what of it? The Rosier family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
"Strictly speaking," Russell said kindly,
"the Addams family isn't considered a pure-blood wizarding family."
That only made her laugh harder.
"Not even pure-blood? And they dare call themselves a 'family'?"
"Exactly!" Cyrian chimed in loudly.
He had never understood why certain Slytherins—especially the Malfoys—treated Wednesday with a strange mix of respect… and fear.
No one had ever explained it to him.
Knight, however—
caught something else.
A detail.
A flaw.
"Even if Cyrian was wrong—"
he narrowed his eyes,
"what does that have to do with you?"
"On what grounds…"
"did you interfere on her behalf?"