Red scorch marks from the flames lingered in the cracks between the flagstones.

A moment later, the garden's decorative lights flickered on, and a path toward the manor appeared.

Lucas looked toward the distant manor. Behind one of those windows, a pair of eyes was watching him and Snape — Lucas knew it.

The black panther stared intently at the markings on the horse until the heat fully dissipated and the heraldic crest blended back into the paving stones.

"Professor?" Lucas feigned total ignorance, crouching down to examine the pattern up close alongside Snape.

After studying it for a while, Lucas noticed something slightly off.

The structural proportions were wrong.

Lucas prodded the four horse legs with his wand. Magic flowed in, and the ground near the garden began to tremble faintly.

The black panther let out a low growl at Lucas.

Reckless. Impulsive. Heedless of consequences.

Transforming into an animal had sharpened Snape's perception considerably. He had been staring at the pattern in concentrated silence, working through the mechanisms that might be hidden inside it.

Lucas pretended not to read Snape's anger. His wand lifted from the crest, and the horse was no longer still — it began to gallop across the flat surface.

The trembling in the ground intensified as the horse ran, the two vibrating in sync, as though a true army of thousands was about to thunder past just out of sight.

A moment later, the paving stone bearing the crest slid sideways and revealed an entrance that plunged into unfathomable darkness.

Walter waited quietly in a second-floor room of the manor for the two wizards to arrive.

People are in high spirits when doing something wicked. Vampires are no different.

Walter had predicted from the start that Snape would accompany Lucas here. Certain stages of this manor required an adult wizard to step forward. But an adult wizard was an obstacle on the path to the inheritance, and the balance of that dynamic needed to be carefully managed.

From the very beginning, Walter had been transported into the main building of the manor.

Through the window, Walter watched as Snape and the young wizard who had taken the Ageing Potion participated in the trial.

If the young wizard's scent hadn't remained unchanged, Walter would have suspected that a different wizard had slipped in entirely.

The adult appearance of Lucas Graham bore virtually no resemblance to what Lucas looked like now.

Walter listened to the conversation between the young wizard and Snape.

There had been an expectation of some friction between the wizard and the beast-guide, but the speed at which they recognized each other was astonishing.

Relying on a vampire's keen hearing, Walter watched the two wizards clear the trial together.

This little one was indeed impressive, well worth the several years spent tracking down the bloodline of this family.

Walter's cool composure came to an abrupt end the moment a passage appeared out of nowhere in the ground.

There was no time to reminisce about that first wretched encounter with the trial.

The vampire vaulted out through the window. Lucas was trailing behind the black panther, and just before disappearing into the cave, Lucas suddenly looked up.

Lucas stared straight in Walter's direction. Walter wasn't certain whether it was a trick of the eye, but at the corner of the young wizard's mouth there was a strange smile.

Walter moved at full speed to reach the spot where the totem had appeared and tried to pry up the paving stone with sharp fingernails.

By the time the stone finally came free, the solid ground and the completely vanished scent of wizards drove the vampire into a fury.

"Professor, wait for me!" Jumping down into the pit had not been Lucas's idea, a person and a panther simply had no way of communicating anything too detailed.

Snape went down first, so Lucas followed.

Which was actually fine. Walter had likely set up an ambush inside the building, so now they had a chance to find another way through.

The narrow tunnel made for a miserable experience. Lucas climbed the steep staircase on all fours.

Moments like this were when you could appreciate the advantages of the Chamber of Secrets, that self-sliding passage at least made going downward easy.

Lucas called out to Snape once and was cut off by a displeased growl.

He used a Lumos spell and was scolded again.

Lucas climbed on in the dark. The panther's night vision should have been more than enough to make out the surroundings. He was happy to let Snape be his eyes.

There was just one small problem: a panther doesn't actually sound like "rowr."

Every panther Lucas had heard made sounds more like "mrow" or a deep rumble. If it was one kept by a wizarding family, it could usually manage a few soft whimpers as well.

But he could pretend not to know that.

The downward passage was long, though the steps were reasonably clean. All the way down, Lucas's hands found nothing sharp; the air circulated well, with only a thin film of dust.

About five minutes later, Lucas bumped into something fluffy, and the surface underfoot leveled into flat ground.

The panther let out another imperious cry.

Lucas swung his wand and cast a Lumos spell.

They were standing on a circular platform. At its center stood a mirror image of the horse, as though they were positioned beneath the garden fountain's basin. The horse's head was within arm's reach.

The black panther sniffed cautiously around the space.

Lucas discarded his earlier guesses about the manor's layout and added this space to his mental map. They weren't necessarily underground at all. A wizard's concept of space is flexible. Most wizards would never actually excavate a room dozens or hundreds of meters beneath the earth.

A Space Charm was all it took.

Lucas followed behind Snape. The stretch of climbing had helped Snape gradually adjust to the animal body. Earlier, Snape had relied on the nocturnal animal's excellent eyesight; now those nostrils moved carefully, scenting the air for any guiding smells.

Lucas trailing close behind was somewhat in the way. The scent would interfere with Snape's judgment, but separating rashly was equally unwise.

The panther flicked his tail in irritation, stirring up the dust, which promptly made Snape sneeze.

"Ah —"

Lucas followed Snape's footsteps. He hadn't paid close attention to Snape during the trial, and only now did he notice: the professor, even as a panther, was terribly thin. Leaner than a normal panther. Between each movement, ribs showed faintly beneath the fur.

The coat was still quite glossy, though. Aside from its tendency to pick up dust,

Lucas had a clearer picture of what was coming. What lay above ground was the trial. What lay below was generally the ancestors.

"Ahem." A dry cough cut off the two of them mid-exploration.

The darkness surrounding them, impenetrable to Lumos, drew back its curtains on its own.

Throughout the vast circular room, countless portraits were arranged in staggered rows. Countless faded, yellowed faces pressed to the edges of their frames, scrutinizing the one who had passed the trial.

"Over here!" One of the wizard portraits dressed in more modern attire snapped his fingers. The portrait was as tall as a person, more animated than the rest, the colors sharper and more vivid.

➤ Next: Forced Consensus

Chapter 233 - Forced Consensus

Lucas looked at him.

"Won't you introduce yourselves?" The portrait surveyed the two intruders with a critical eye, fixing its gaze on Lucas. "You need to bring an outsider to help you pass the assessment?" Its tone was reproachful.

"And you were forcibly Transfigured!"

"Ageing Potion!"

"Someone tried to assassinate you!"

The surrounding portraits chimed in all at once. They clearly had some means of observing the outside world, and they spoke with absolutely no restraint.

Lucas and Snape slowly moved to stand together.

"In that case," the central portrait said, and all the others fell quiet, "let us see your true state."

The words had barely left its mouth when a waterfall dropped from above, plunging straight down onto Lucas.

Lucas reacted fast. Before the stream reached his head, he cast a gale charm toward the height above.

A blast of wind surged from the tip of his wand. The gust bent the torrent sideways, drenching an entire row of nearby portraits.

The figures inside the frames fled in every direction. The whole soaked section emptied out completely.

At that same moment, a dark shape shot straight out from beside Lucas, aimed directly at the waterfall.

A small portion of the torrent struck the black panther. The panther crouched silently on the ground, fur soaked through.

Amid a chorus of panicked complaints from the portraits, it transformed back into a fully grown man dressed in black.

Snape's hair was plastered flat against his cheeks. His robes were in disarray, visibly streaked with dust.

Fury burned in the Potions Master's eyes. The moment he had confirmed the stream was the Thief's Downfall, Snape had chosen to meet it head-on.

The chance to transform back had nearly been cut off by Lucas.

Snape dried his clothes.

Lucas had a sudden realization. "That potion washes away disguises made with potions and spells!"

Of course he had dodged it. Exploring ancient ruins trapped in the body of a child would be far too troublesome.

"What do you think you are doing? My portraits are seventeenth-century antiques — and you have ruined them all!"

The portraits, still rattled, broke into a storm of accusations.

A potion of this kind could break spell effects outright. For portraits, it was nothing short of lethal poison.

"Silence!" The lead portrait cut off the family's complaints with a sharp word.

It fixed a stern look on Lucas. "You think you reacted quickly?"

Snape had already drawn his wand and was pointing it coldly at the portrait. They were in someone else's manor, but now that his limbs were restored, he did not believe he would be subdued easily.

Lucas watched the portrait in silence. He had been shielded behind Snape again.

Most of the time, once Snape stepped forward, all the hostility came his way. This particular portrait, however, kept its attention fixed on Lucas.

"You think this adult wizard will back you up?" The portrait flicked a glance at Snape.

Lucas looked up at it briefly. He did not like this portrait's tone.

With those words still hanging in the air, Snape reached for Lucas to activate the Portkey.

The instant they were about to make contact, the space between them stretched infinitely apart.

Snape saw countless versions of Lucas extending outward in every direction.

The distance between them kept growing, until the space had split completely.

"Now," the portrait said, smoothing its clothes and idly brushing at dust that was not there, "we can take a proper look at you."

The portrait noticed the young wizard turn to look at it.

That youthful innocence, the unguarded quality of an underage wizard, was gone. The young wizard had turned completely cold. His gaze held no warmth. He looked at the portrait as though it were not a living thing at all.

"I am not here to beg you for this manor." The pale-blond wizard seemed like an entirely different person. His bearing darkened. "I can just as easily leave this manor to that grave-robber outside, jumping around with all his schemes."

"How dare you—" The portrait was overcome with fury and alarm.

Grave-robber was an obscure profession. It appeared in almost no magical texts.

People wished this profession had never come into existence, or that it would die out entirely.

Generally speaking, when the last legitimate heir of a wealthy pureblood family died, the family was considered legally extinct.

But purebloods were always obsessed with preserving bloodlines that ultimately held little importance.

When they used magic to seal a family estate, they would still leave gifted half-bloods or illegitimate children a path to inherit.

The sealing magic these families left behind recognized inheritance by blood.

The profession that grew from this was called gold-digger.

They first had to learn about pureblood families long forgotten by history. Then they used specialized magic to search through the masses for a wizard of related blood.

Finally, just as Walter had done, they would bring that wizard here, open the vault, and kill them.

Gold-diggers were pirates on land. Hunters in the wizarding world.

The work was not easy, though. Finding a family that had sealed itself off with no heir, and then tracking down a blood relative of that family, both were like searching for a needle in the ocean.

Walter had found the right profession all the same.

A vampire's long lifespan multiplied the odds of success several times over.

The portrait was silent for only a moment before it spoke with firm resolve. "If you do not wish to inherit this place, no one is forcing you. But I never said you were free to leave. You and your mentor will both remain here—"

Before it could finish, a gust of wind crept into the sealed space. The walls began to tremble.

The young wizard across from it gave his wand a light wave. No incantation. Yet a slender tongue of flame joined the wind and rapidly took shape.

"I do not accept threats."

"I do not accept threats."

The wizard and the portrait spoke at the exact same moment, both voices resolute and uncompromising.

Their gazes met. The flames circling Lucas burned hotter.

This was no longer Incendio.

Lucas had used an agricultural charm, the same one that, over the past six months, had driven the renovation of the Slytherin dormitory.

The portrait refused to yield.

A tongue of fire climbed one of the frames on the wall. The frame burned quietly.

The flames consumed the first portrait, then spread fast.

More portraits fled elsewhere, they must have had other frames within the manor to retreat to.

Lucas stayed quiet.

The fire kept spreading.

"If you burn this place down, you won't get out either! Neither will your friend!" The portrait was furious and alarmed at once. It had assumed this was a reckless youth who didn't know his limits. Who could have imagined he was a madman?

"He is my mentor. He brought a Portkey. He can leave without any trouble." Lucas spoke without hurry.

"And what about you, did you bring a Portkey!" The portrait watched the flames consume one frame after another. The figures inside had all escaped, but a sourceless dread gripped it all the same.

"That is my concern." Lucas curled his lips slightly. "The dead should not meddle in the affairs of the living."

He added, almost as an afterthought: "I forgot to mention, Walter, the vampire, has already tracked down every person who could possibly open this manor. I am the last one."

The portrait fell silent.

Flames consumed the air in the sealed space. The young wizard did not move. Did not waver.

The portrait could not tell whether this was a desperate bluff from someone putting on a fearless front, or the quiet confidence of a rising talent who had already calculated every outcome.

He was clearly a young wizard under fifteen.

His soul and his body were a perfect match.

"You said just now, the person who came with you is your mentor?" A long pause. The flames were already licking at its own frame. The portrait let out a sigh and softened its tone.

"You heard correctly." Lucas shifted without missing a beat, from cold defiance to easy courtesy. "So I find it rather strange. Isn't it perfectly normal for a mentor to bring along an apprentice?"

"...Of course. Perfectly normal." The portrait did not leave its frame.

Even as the flames wrapped around it and began eating into the enchantments laid on the wood, it held its ground with stubborn dignity.

"I really should give a young person the chance to explain himself," the portrait said with some difficulty.

Its face had turned greenish, as though every scrap of green pigment across the entire canvas had been drawn to that one spot.

"I forgive you." Lucas smiled.

He seemed to only just notice how much damage the fire had done. "A wizard my age always has trouble controlling his spells. How careless of me..."

Lucas waved his wand. The flames all around were snuffed out at once, as though crushed by an invisible hand.

The portrait watched him in silence.

"We need to have a proper talk," it said, "about that vampire outside."

➤ Next: Other Guests