The Charles Becomes a Wizard

There was a depressing atmosphere in the room, as if time had stopped, making people feel suffocated.

The gorgeous clock ticked away, and every tick seemed to strike at the wizards' hearts, like the sound of a death knell.

Everyone's eyes were focused on the man in black with blood on his hands. Every move he made was full of peculiar charm. He was slowly wiping the blood off his face with a handkerchief. He looked defenseless, but none of the wizards who were holding their wands tightly dared to take the initiative to do anything.

No one wanted to break the silence, as if opening their mouths would disrupt this fragile balance and drag them into bottomless darkness.

Even the big snake beside Voldemort was suppressed by Sebastian's aura and dared not move at all.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

Although he had long known that his men were a group of vain but cowardly guys, and he used this to control them, Voldemort, who saw this scene with his own eyes, still felt the blood rushing up his body, and he couldn't help vomiting blood.

"Oh my," Sebastian paused, his dark red eyes falling on Voldemort who looked quite embarrassed.

He walked towards Voldemort at a leisurely pace, bent down slightly and stretched out his hand, "I am really sorry, I was so excited just now that I didn't control my strength."

"Mr. Voldemort, can you still stand up?"

Voldemort listened to the gentle and polite voice in his ear, looked at the white glove stained with blood in front of him, and a resentful light flashed in his eyes: "Are you humiliating me?"

"How could that be?" Sebastian tilted his head, "You are a partner that the young master values ​​very much."

"It's not okay to die here like this."

This time he came just to give the other party a warning and had no intention of disrupting the game.

If he casually ruins the young master's game, he will be retaliated by the other party.

Voldemort had not felt humiliated for a long time, and was provoked by Sebastian to vomit blood again.

The murderous intent lingering around him made the wizards present shudder, but the targeted person was not affected at all.

Sebastian stood up again and took out his pocket watch to take a look. "Well, I think I have made my attitude clear. Can you please handle the follow-up matters as soon as possible?"

"If there was any bad reputation, it would bother me a lot."

......

"Today we have prepared Darjeeling second-picked tea from Fortnum and Mason, and the dessert will be small colorful cakes." Sebastian said as he placed the teacup in front of Charles.

Charles raised his teacup and took a sip of the fragrant black tea: "So, have those things been dealt with?"

Sebastian was stunned for a moment and then smiled and said, "Please rest assured, Master. It's not a difficult matter. It has been handled."

"But how did you find out, young master?"

"If you don't want me to find out, then clean up the smell on your body." Charles glanced at Sebastian's collar out of the corner of his eye.

Sebastian raised his hand and touched his black collar. He looked at the bloodstain on his clean white gloves and raised his eyebrows: "Oh, did it drip onto me?"

"Young Master's sense of smell is indeed as sharp as that of a hound."

"Is this considered a compliment?" Charles snorted. "You didn't do anything unnecessary, did you?"

"Of course." Sebastian replied with a smile: "I will not ruin your game, Master."

"That's good."

“But some people may suffer.”

Voldemort is not a kind-hearted guy. How could he allow others to see his miserable state when he is a cold-blooded, arrogant and conceited person who thinks he is superior to everyone?

What's more, he needs to use fear to re-establish his prestige in the organization...

The Death Eaters who participated in the rally today may receive a severe punishment.

"Eh?" Charles waved the dessert fork in his hand, a sly smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, "Isn't that a good thing?"

After this time, Mr. Malfoy should be able to make up his mind completely, right?

Really, Mr. Malfoy is still too cautious. He can't keep hedging his bets...

I think if I push him a little, he'll be able to make the right decision.

"Ah," Sebastian replied, "it will be as you wish."

Draco blinked with a dessert fork in his mouth, and looked at the master and servant who were looking in his direction: "What's wrong?"

"No, nothing." Ciel tilted his head. "I just thought you might like the taste of today's snacks."

"Ahem," Draco coughed dryly, "Well, it's really not bad."

After afternoon tea, Draco left the dormitory on his own accord. Blaise looked at Draco, who was sitting in front of the fireplace in the lounge, staring at the fire in a daze. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over and sat down beside him.

"Draco you..."

what happened?

He looks like he's in a complicated mood.

Draco's grey eyes rolled slightly, recalling the ambiguous conversation between Charles and Sebastian in the dormitory. He tapped his white fingers on his knees and said, "I think it's a good thing, right?"

"should?"

"Ah, after all, no one can be sure of the final outcome until the last moment."

If nothing unexpected happened, their conversation should have been deliberately told to him, whether it was for him to remind his father or for some other reason, at least one thing was certain, the wizarding world might soon be in chaos.

Now it's time for them to take sides. This choice is crucial for any family.

Gamble on the interests of the entire family for several or even dozens of future generations.

If you make the right choice, you can soar to the top; if you make the wrong choice, you will fail miserably.

If Draco were asked to choose, whether out of his trust in Ciel's abilities over the years or out of his resistance to kneeling at someone's feet and kissing the corner of a robe on the ground, he would choose to stand on Ciel's side.

But now the head of the Malfoy family is his father. Although his father is relatively close to Charles, Draco has no way of being sure whether his father's final decision will be consistent with his ideas based on the information he has at hand.

If possible, Draco didn't want to be Charles' rival, but Malfoy always cared about his family the most.

Draco knew that once his father made up his mind, he would definitely stand on the same side as his family, no matter how reluctant he was.