Chapter 227: Envy
Wherever one went, the topic of conversation seemed to revolve around Wizard Legends.
Of course, there were many reasons for its explosive popularity.
One of the biggest was simply that wizards had very few forms of entertainment.
Beyond Wizard's Chess and Gobstones, Russell honestly couldn't think of many games that were widely enjoyed in the wizarding world.
In fact, the Addams family's recreational activities were arguably more diverse.
Though that admittedly included things like grave-robbing.
Money had always been a powerful temptation.
Although Wizard Legends had only been on the market for a short time, its unprecedented success had already attracted the attention of countless witches and wizards.
Among them were members of the prestigious Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families.
And they were interested.
Very interested.
True, they still didn't know the exact profits being generated by the game.
But judging from the overwhelming enthusiasm sweeping through the wizarding community, how could they not be tempted?
Most of the so-called pure-blood families were living off the wealth and influence accumulated by previous generations.
Their businesses were only shadows of what they had once been.
Many of their most profitable enterprises had been abandoned after the fall of Lord Voldemort.
Back then, in order to distance themselves from the Dark Lord and preserve their status, numerous families had reluctantly sacrificed major portions of their assets and commercial interests.
As a result, while they still appeared wealthy on the surface, many of them had spent years watching their fortunes slowly decline.
Now, however, a brand-new industry had appeared before their eyes.
A business that seemed to be printing money.
And that made them jealous. Very jealous.
The Malfoy family was an exception.
From the Middle Ages all the way to the present day, they had always managed to find profitable ventures.
Put kindly, they were skilled at navigating every political tide.
Put less kindly, they were opportunistic fence-sitters.
Or perhaps it was simply good business sense—never put all your eggs in one basket.
If one enterprise collapsed, another could support them.
Most pure-blood families, however, had been declining for generations.
That, more than anything else, was the true reason many of them despised Muggle-born witches and wizards.
All that nonsense about preserving wizarding dignity?
A convenient excuse.
The real issue was that more and more Muggle-borns were entering the wizarding world and competing for resources that were already shrinking.
And now, with the sudden rise of Wizard Legends, a great many pure-blood families found themselves tempted.
---
"We've investigated it thoroughly."
"The owners of Wizard Legends are just a group of students still attending Hogwarts."
"While the Weasley family has some involvement, the largest shareholder is a boy named Russell Fythorne."
"Russell Fythorne?"
Old Carrow lit his serpent-carved pipe and took a long, satisfied draw.
"What's his background?"
"An orphan."
"Probably a Mudblood as well."
"Though he did receive a Second-Class Order of Merlin and a Third-Class Order of Merlin."
"Oh?"
Carrow finally opened his eyes.
"Sounds like a talented little genius."
"Perhaps."
Then he snorted dismissively.
"But talent only gets you so far."
"In the wizarding world, influence and resources matter more."
"Unless he possesses talent equal to—or greater than—that man's."
The room immediately fell silent.
"That's impossible," another wizard hurriedly replied, shaking his head.
"Besides, even if he did possess such talent, he'd still need to survive long enough to develop it."
Carrow narrowed his eyes.
Clearly, he knew nothing about the setbacks suffered by the Malfoy and Rosier families at Russell's hands.
That wasn't surprising.
Pure-blood families did not publicly discuss embarrassing defeats.
And those who knew the stories had no desire to spread them.
Making enemies among powerful families was rarely a wise career move.
Especially when the Malfoys currently possessed the strongest economic influence among the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Not magical strength.
Plenty of older pure-blood families still boasted superior wizards.
But in terms of wealth and business influence, few could rival them.
---
"Have you discovered what materials are needed to make the cards?"
"Of course."
"Moonstone powder, Venomous Tentacula extract, and several other ingredients…"
"Excellent."
Carrow exhaled a stream of blue smoke.
"Then it's time Wizard Legends found a new owner."
"First, we'll cut off their supply chains."
"Then we'll negotiate."
"If they agree, wonderful."
"If they don't... we'll help them agree."
He flicked ash from his pipe.
"And if they continue refusing, we'll simply drag things out."
"Eventually, their production capacity won't meet demand."
"By then, our own cards will dominate the market."
One of the gathered wizards hesitated.
"But can our family really swallow a market this large alone?"
"Shouldn't we cooperate with some of the others?"
"Of course."
Carrow nodded thoughtfully.
"Good suggestion."
"The fact that I've thought of this means everyone else has probably thought of it too."
After a moment's consideration, he issued an order.
"Send letters to every head of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
"Tell them I have a business opportunity worth discussing."
His instincts were correct.
At that very moment, numerous pure-blood patriarchs were watching Wizard Legends with keen interest.
"Oh, and send one to the Crabbe family as well."
"We'll need someone to test the waters."
A strange smile appeared on his face.
"So they've set their sights on the Carrow family, have they?"
"Very well."
"Let's see what they're capable of."
"If they perform well enough, perhaps I'd even consider giving them a place among the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
His smile widened.
"Though I wonder whether you possess the courage—or the ability—for that, Crabbe."
---
Karen Avery used a black-opal letter opener to slice open a Wizard Legends booster pack.
With practiced precision, she lifted the cards from within.
"I think next week's Daily Prophet is going to be very entertaining."
She pushed a dish of nuts toward her owl.
"Rita Skeeter has apparently obtained exclusive evidence that they plagiarized certain designs."
"One of the gold cards is supposedly ninety-eight percent identical to artwork found in the manuscript of a famous wizard."
A smile curled across her lips.
"I imagine the Department of Magical Cultural Heritage is already eager to investigate."
What she didn't know was that Rita had accepted her bribe—
And then immediately sold her out.
She had even asked Russell whether he wanted to strike first and expose Avery's scheme.
After all, humiliating the head of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight would be a career-defining story.
Russell, however, rejected the idea.
There was no need.
Wouldn't it be far more satisfying to wait until they arrived full of confidence—
And then watch their expressions change?
---
Old Travers slowly rotated a Gringotts-vault-key-shaped brooch pinned to his chest.
Greed shone plainly in his eyes.
The parchment before him automatically updated with Wizard Legends' latest revenue estimates.
"Only a few days..."
"And it's already making this much money?"
His voice dripped with resentment.
"How could a Mudblood create something like this?"
Then he corrected himself.
"How could a Mudblood be allowed to own something like this?"
A strand of blond hair brushed against his lips as he sneered.
"The Auror Office is about to receive an anonymous report."
"Apparently some of the card materials may contain restricted African Snallygaster scales."
His plan sounded clever.
Unfortunately for him, a portion of Wizard Legends' profits was already finding its way onto the desk of Cornelius Fudge.
After suppressing Rufus Scrimgeour and reclaiming authority over the Auror Office, Fudge now enjoyed far greater influence than before.
When he read the anonymous accusation, he laughed so hard he nearly spilled his tea.
The letter was tossed directly into the fireplace.
The Travers family...
Weren't they rather close to Scrimgeour?
Interesting.
Perhaps they deserved a little pressure as well.
---
Old Crabbe shattered his nth crystal goblet of the evening.
His expression was dark and stormy.
The Crabbe family might not belong to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but they were still a respectable pure-blood lineage.
Otherwise, his son would never have been qualified to serve at Draco's side.
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