"One copy of the Daily Prophet—all right, thanks."
Avada took the newspaper he had just bought and Apparated straight back to his room at the Leaky Cauldron. After casually tossing aside his outer robe, he quickly flipped through it.
"Looks like nothing major has happened recently. The headlines are all pretty harmless—state visits with France, a sudden rise in the prices of certain herbs, the latest results from basilisk research, Sirius Black still at large, and the Hogsmeade ban on Saturday mornings at Hogwarts set to be lifted after the start of the next half-term…"
"Now then, where's the Pure-blood family ad section? Ads… ah, found it."
After only a few pages, he spotted the densely packed recruitment notices. After all, the clients placing these ads were mostly small- and medium-sized Pure-blood families, and the commissions involved were worth hundreds of Galleons—spending a little extra for a better ad position was hardly a problem for them.
"There really are quite a few. I'll need to cross-check them later against The Pure-Blood Directory…"
"This is definitely worth investigating further. After all, just last year several major Pure-blood families were beaten badly by Dumbledore—some of their heads were even thrown into Azkaban. There's no ruling out the possibility that they're stirring things up behind the scenes."
"But where should I start? Should I just take a random job from one of these ads, or should I investigate that Ministry interviewer named Tyler?"
…
"Baron,"
In the Great Hall at Hogwarts, Avada—who had been eating dinner at the long table—suddenly looked up and asked Baron, who was also focused on his meal across from him, "Does your family have Anti-Apparition wards?"
Although wizarding society had already returned to normal operations, the students' Christmas holiday still had a few days left, so they were free to sit wherever they liked at the four House tables.
"Why ask all of a sudden?" Baron paused before replying. "Of course we do. Anti-Apparition wards are basically standard for any major family."
"How long ago were they set up?"
"Hundreds of years, I think. They were installed when the manor was first built, and we still have to maintain them every few years."
"Have they ever actually been used?"
"A few times. Supposedly during several turbulent periods in history—one of them even during Voldemort's rampage a little over a decade ago. But why are you asking? Did Dumbledore give you another assignment?"
"…Not this time."
Avada's eye twitched slightly as he shook his head. "I just noticed that the Daily Prophet has been full of ads lately from small families looking to hire spatial experts to install Anti-Apparition wards on their homes. It got me curious."
"That's happening?"Baron set down his knife and fork in surprise. "That doesn't really make sense, does it? Generally speaking, large-scale installation of Anti-Apparition wards suggests widespread insecurity, which usually means social unrest. But if things were really that dangerous, how would they dare to openly publish their contact information in the newspaper and arrange meetings with strangers?"
"True…"
Only after Baron pointed it out did Avada realize there was an even deeper issue. "Even during Voldemort's dark period, these small families didn't install Anti-Apparition wards back then. It was too dangerous—they wouldn't dare show their faces in the newspaper, let alone indirectly express fear or dissatisfaction with Voldemort that way. So what's different now?"
"Maybe I'll write to my father and ask. This really does seem abnormal."
"Then I'll leave it to you."
"That's nothing. If something really is going on, my father should be thanking you for spotting it early…"
"Oh, right—speaking of Apparition. If I remember correctly, existing Anti-Apparition wards only block human wizards, right? If it were a magical creature instead—say, a hostile family sending a house-elf to sabotage things—how would you deal with that?"
"That's why, in addition to wards, we also hide the location of our residence as much as possible. Like when you visited my home last time—you had to enter an inconspicuous little house first, and only after authentication could you go deeper. That also has the advantage of not blocking owls, so we can still send and receive mail normally. After all, even the owls themselves don't know how they're getting in…"
"Impressive security."
After thinking it over, Avada realized that with defenses at that level, even he would have to put in quite a bit of effort to infiltrate a Pure-blood family—mostly on the intelligence-gathering side. "I really don't know how Dumbledore managed to collect so much evidence right under those families' noses, and even catch someone as well-hidden as Lucius…"
"Well, he is Dumbledore… He's even planning to start researching the soul now!"
—Two or three days after the Christmas holiday ended, Dumbledore suddenly dropped a bombshell announcement: he would personally launch a research project focused on the soul, Dark Magic, and Potions, and would be recruiting student assistants.
The news nearly blew Hogwarts sky-high. But the recruitment requirements that followed quickly poured cold water on everyone's enthusiasm. Applicants had to be sixth-years or above, with Outstanding grades in both Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions on their OWLs. They also had to undergo a series of reviews—including psychological evaluations—before participating in experiments, and sign numerous agreements. Alternatively, students who had made exceptional contributions in combating Dark Magic could be specially admitted, but they would still have to pass all the same subsequent reviews.
On top of that, Dumbledore had invited many academic heavyweights to take part in the project, including Nicolas Flamel. This left countless students who had only earned Exceeds Expectations on their OWLs beating their chests in frustration—and it also directly slashed seventh-years' second-semester internship opportunities. It seemed wizarding society would be seeing far less cheap labor this year.
As for the condition of having "made outstanding contributions in the fight against Dark Magic," almost everyone knew exactly who that was referring to.
"All right, I can't eat too much. I need to go practice flying later—I'll head off first."
After finishing the last few bites of his meal, Baron stood up, picked up the broom leaning against his chair, and said goodbye to Avada.
"Yeah, see you."
Avada also finished his food in a few quick mouthfuls. After settling Nathan Clarke onto the bed and temporarily removing the control device, he headed to the library to look for The Pure-Blood Directory. To avoid drawing attention, he had deliberately layered a Disillusionment Charm over the device's exterior. He was still researching how to miniaturize it further—ideally turning it into an earring or a thin pad embedded beneath the skin…
(End of Chapter)