God Of Death.

They heard the door of the house open, then close with a sharp snap. 

A few seconds later, Alvis and Harry arrived in the living room, and the boy rushed toward the couch to grab his stuffed animal in his arms. 

Andromeda raised an eyebrow and asked: "How was your visit to St. Mungo's?"

"I want to burn the government!" Alvis didn't even turn toward the living room, too busy continuing his way upstairs. 

Hermione choked on her saliva, while Dan and Emma stared at the entrance with concern. Andromeda sighed, took a sip of tea, and turned to Harry. 

The boy hesitated before saying: "The doctor said he couldn't treat me because the rituals are illegal in England, so we have to wait until we're in the USA to do them. And there are Neville's parents, who should have done a purification ritual and seen a curse-breaker for their injuries, but they didn't because it's illegal, and there's no curse-breaker at St. Mungo's."

"Ah. That explains his reaction."

Hermione turned to her with disbelief and asked: "Aren't you worried? He said he wants to burn the government!"

"Oh, that's nothing new, Alvis hates the British Ministry of Magic and makes no secret of it. However, his diplomatic immunity would be revoked if he reduced it to ashes to start fresh."

The Grangers were not reassured by these words, but Andromeda ignored that in favor of Harry. "Did you meet Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes! We're friends now!"

"Really?"

He nodded with a big smile before frowning. "He was at St.Mungo because his great-uncle tried to kill him by pushing him into the water. His family thinks he has no magic and is trying to force him to do accidental magic."

"It's horrible!" Hermione exclaimed.

His parents nodded, and Dan asked: "Isn't there any way to get him out of that environment?"

"Uncle Al will take care of it," Harry said with unwavering confidence. "He's not happy at all."

"As long as he doesn't burn anyone," Emma muttered.

"Don't worry, I don't think that'll be necessary."

They all jumped at the voice and turned toward the door where Alvis was standing. He gave them a forced smile before heading toward Andromeda and handing her a scroll.

"Harfang Longbottom married Callidora Black, and their son, Nyctale, is Neville's paternal grandfather. Is that a sufficient connection to get custody of him, as Lord Black?"

Andromeda took the document, frowning. "It's a maternal line, so a tertiary branch of the family. However, since his parents are incapable of taking care of him, and Augusta isn't a pureblood Longbottom or a man, his custody can indeed go to a male Lord with a connection to him on the paternal side. Legally, if you can prove that she's unable to care for him properly, you can get custody."

"Would repeated visits to St.Mungo because they're trying to force him to do accidental magic be a good reason? If he testifies?"

"Yes. I can handle the negotiations with Ted if you wish. I'll be much more diplomatic than you and have a better chance of success."

He nodded immediately, letting himself fall into an armchair. "Please."

She nodded and made a mental note to prioritize this on her to-do list. Then, she pointed to the door. "Go change, I've put appropriate robes on your bed."

He grumbled but stood up. "Why can't I go like this?"

"It's your work attire. It's not appropriate for a dinner with a girl from your house. Try to look a bit like the Lord you are when you fulfill the duties you can't get me to take on in your place."

He muttered but left anyway. Andromeda ignored his unwillingness and turned her attention back to the children. Harry was talking animatedly about Neville and how cool Alvis had been when he defended him against Augusta. 

The curse breaker came back down a few minutes later. He was wearing a dark blue robe with black borders embroidered in silver. His hair was still tied back in a ponytail, his fringe hiding the scar on his forehead. He still wore his dragon-hide gloves, and his bag was strapped to his waist, hanging on his right hip, while a dagger dangled on the left. His boots were barely visible beneath the hem of the robe, and a scale-like collar covering his throat slightly spilled out from the robe's collar.

"What do you have under the robe?"

"Basilisk-hide armor. You're not making me go to dinner with a Black woman without proper protection. Or at least a knife."

She sighed but let it pass. "Very well. At least you're presentable. Your signet rings?"

He took out the chain they hung from and slipped the Black and Peverell rings over his gloves. 

Andromeda nodded, satisfied. She knew she wouldn't get him to part with his bag or gloves, but it was an acceptable detail, considering his profession. 

Hermione tilted her head and commented: "You'd look more professional without the earrings, wouldn't you?"

He blinked before bursting into laughter, to the small girl's indignation. She crossed her arms with an irritated look and asked: "Why?"

Alvis calmed down and replied: "My earrings are all that's professional."

He pointed to the hook in his right ear. "The hook marks me as a curse-breaker who's finished his training. The silver chain indicates that I'm a veteran, the highest rank." He then pointed to each earring in his left ear. "The earrings on the left indicate my specialties, and therefore the fields in which I hold masters. Obsidian for necromancy, which almost all curse-breakers have, considering the large number of undead we encounter in ancient tombs. Emerald for enchantments, which also marks me as a master enchanter. Amethyst for rituals. I would also have a ruby for blood magic, but it's illegal in almost the entire world, so I don't have that specialty recognized."

"Then why do you know it, if it's that illegal?"

"Because blood magic had a major impact on my childhood and adolescence, and I researched everything I could on the subject, to understand what happened to me. I don't want to talk about the details."

She closed her mouth at his authoritative look and nodded. 

He smiled at her, trying to soften his reply, but he didn't like talking about the reasons why he was so skilled in blood magic. 

He ran a finger over his earrings and concluded: "To go back to the earrings, they're a mark of my profession and accomplishments, so they are professional and a source of pride. They also serve to immediately identify the specialty of the curse-breakers we work with, rather than always having to ask."

He let his hand drop and instead scratched the scar near the corner of his mouth. "Of course, they're also enchanted with identifiers. If a body is too damaged to be identified, we cast an identification spell on the earrings. And that's the only thing that gets sent back to the families, considering the protocol is always to burn the bodies, to avoid them transmitting any nasties caught on sites, or that could have killed the curse-breaker in question."

Harry and the Grangers had wide eyes at the last part of his explanation, which was understandable. It was one thing to know that his job was one of the most dangerous in the world, but another to know that he wore his earrings, much like a soldier wears their tags, so people could know who he was if he were killed on a site. 

Andromeda startled them all by clapping her hands and giving him a stern look. "You're going to be late if you don't leave immediately."

He checked his pocket watch and nodded. He had about ten minutes to get to the restaurant where he was meeting Narcissa. 

He placed his hands on his wrists and removed the silver bracelets, releasing his magic with a sigh of relief. He let it float lazily in the room for a moment before bringing it back to him and letting it drape over his shoulders like a warm, comfortable cloak. 

He slipped the suppressors into his pocket and opened his eyes, fully aware that they glowed slightly with an internal light. He smiled brightly, amused by the stunned look on the Grangers' faces, who had never felt his magic, then waved goodbye and left.

He arrived at the restaurant a minute early and was promptly escorted to the private room he had reserved. He had firmly refused to meet them at the Malfoy manor but wasn't comfortable enough to let them come to Grimmauld, so they had agreed on a fancy restaurant on a side street off Diagon Alley.

Narcissa and Draco were already there, and Alvis was surprised to see that the woman was pregnant. The one from his former world had only had one son, whom she cherished above all else. That was the reason she had contacted him, through Snape, to spy in exchange for the safety of her family. He could respect that absolute desire to protect her own.

The two Malfoys stood up, and Alvis used the little etiquette he knew to kiss the back of Narcissa's hand.

"Cousin Narcissa." He nodded at Draco. "Malfoy Heir."

Narcissa responded with a curtsey, and Draco nodded as they both replied: "Lord Black Peverell."

Narcissa straightened up, and Alvis pointed to the table where they all sat. 

His cousin wasted no time in pointing to his dagger with an arched eyebrow. "Why did you feel the need to come armed like this?"

"Because only a suicidal idiot would meet a Black without weapons or armor when he doesn't know her intentions." He made a thoughtful face while picking up the appetizer menu and added absently: "Or even knowing her intentions."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Narcissa was holding back a smile at his remark. 

Draco huffed with an air of superiority and commented: "I don't see why, especially since Father isn't here tonight."

Alvis raised an eyebrow at him, then cast a surprised look at Narcissa at his lack of manners. "Young Draco, the only things your father possesses are money and his appearance. If you think he's the most dangerous of your parents, you must be quite naïve."

"I'm not stupid!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I said naïve, not stupid. A naïve person can be educated, a stupid person is usually a lost cause."

The boy didn't respond, but Alvis could see he was irritated with him. He ignored him and ordered his appetizer by tapping the corresponding box on the menu. A few moments later, the house elves had made their food appear before them. 

He turned his attention back to Narcissa and pointed at her belly. "Congratulations on your second child."

She gave him a tight-lipped smile and replied: "Fifth. But thank you."

He froze slightly at that. Fifth child? And Draco was the only one who came with her? It could be because he was the heir, but he doubted it. Last he knew, the Malfoys only had one son.

"I see," he murmured.

She tilted her head before asking: "Where are you from? I've never heard of you, and I don't think we crossed paths at Hogwarts."

"My father was a Muggle-born from the family, and he preferred to hire tutors instead of sending me to Hogwarts. He was afraid the rest of the family would try to kill me for being a half-blood. Also, I left England over twenty years ago to become a curse-breaker."

She nodded. He could see she was skeptical, but he wasn't about to tell the truth just anywhere. And certainly not in front of a child who worshiped his father and couldn't keep quiet. He wondered why he had agreed to this dinner; he didn't know how to behave or what she wanted.

"So you're a half-blood? How did you manage to become the Lord of an ancient and noble family with such impure blood?"

Narcissa pursed her lips and shot him a dark look. "Draco, silence."

Alvis gave an amused smile as he relaxed in his chair and waved his hand nonchalantly. "Meh, let him say what he thinks. I'm also very direct. And to answer your question, I received a letter telling me I was the only available Black male for the role, considering Sirius was in prison, and I accepted it. Not that I did much with it, aside from calling off Bellatrix's wedding and magically disinheriting her. And I also reinstated Andromeda and her daughter, Nymphadora."

"Why? Bellatrix was a real pure-blood and Andromeda married a mudblood..."

"Draco." He fell silent with a snap of his jaw and instead shoved a little more of his appetizer into his mouth. 

Alvis took a sip of wine before responding: "Bellatrix was a madwoman who couldn't control or hide her Black madness. Moreover, a Black bows to no one, and she serves a Dark Wizard who seeks to destroy our society. As for Andromeda, I don't care who she married, she's still a Black, and her daughter is the first Metamorphmagus the family has produced in nearly three centuries."

"He wasn't trying to destroy our society, but to expel Muggle-borns and bring back our traditions."

He sniffed disdainfully at that and shook his head. "And to do so, he massacred magical families, even old families, down to the last member. No, he was just a mad lunatic, bloodthirsty with grand ambitions of conquest and greatness."

He raised his hand to interrupt the boy's response. Then, he raised one finger. "First, pure-bloods govern our society. Laws are made by the Wizengamot, and it's impossible to rise in the ministry ranks without family connections. Furthermore, other businesses, like trade, have been passed down through generations, and people prefer to go to families who have been in the business for generations, rather than try their luck with newcomers. Which leads me to my second point." He raised a second finger. "First-generation families struggle a lot to find work, unless they make the right connections at Hogwarts, precisely because everything is a family affair. If they try to start their own business, they end up in debt because of the loans they have to take for startup capital, which they can rarely repay, according to my previous point. This means they either end up on the streets or return to the Muggle side because they're not allowed to integrate. Some are clever enough to go abroad, like to America, but not everyone can afford that." He raised a third finger. "As for magical traditions. You're right that they're being less and less respected. Which is a shame because most of them serve to renew magic."

He tapped the plate next to his dish, and it was replaced by a menu of main courses. He looked up at the other two and noticed they were staring at the plate next to him. "Is there a problem?"

"You haven't used your wand even once," Narcissa said simply.

He scratched the scar at the corner of his lip. "That's true, I rarely use it."

"That's supposed to be impossible," murmured Draco. "Only the greatest wizards can do that."

Alvis gave an amused sniff and received an indignant glance from the boy. 

Narcissa merely raised an eyebrow as she ordered her dish.

"Magic without a wand is much less rare than people make it out to be in England. African schools teach wandless magic, and most curse-breakers learn to do it at some point in their career. It's almost nonexistent in the general population because wands give control to governments. After all, the best way to neutralize a wizard is to take it away from them, which makes them as dangerous as Muggles."

Narcissa looked thoughtful before commenting: "Still, many try to learn it but never succeed. How do you explain that, if it's not a question of power?"

"It's simple, mental conditioning. Children are taught that it's impossible and that they should be embarrassed, past a certain age, if they make accidental magic. However, wandless magic is linked to accidental magic because it relies entirely on the will and emotions behind the spells. It requires good mental strength, willpower, visualization, and good self-control. The earlier you start, the better you'll succeed, but it's possible to learn as an adult. You just need to rid yourself of the thought that it's impossible." He cut into his duck breast and added absently: "Meditation can help. Start small, like levitating a pebble, and go from there. It's just like a muscle that needs to be trained."

She nodded, thoughtful. There was a moment of silence as they ate. Then, Narcissa asked: "What's your position on wizarding traditions?"

"They should be respected. I can understand wanting to make the first generations comfortable, but that doesn't mean we should give up our festivals and beliefs in favor of theirs. Progressives are getting it wrong on this."

"Oh? What do you mean by that?"

He tapped his lip with his fork, looking pensive before asking: "Have you ever been abroad?"

"Yes. I've been to France and Italy several times."

He nodded, satisfied. "In that case, did they behave like the English?"

"No. Why would they? They're not."

"Exactly. And it would be irrational and unreasonable to expect the French to behave like the English just to make us comfortable. It's more on us to adapt. It's the same thing with the first generations. The magical and Muggle worlds were separated centuries ago and have evolved differently, side by side. We share the same nationality, but not the same culture or education. Rather than giving up our culture, and our identity, we should educate the first generations so they can adapt to our society. Moreover, why give up Yule for Christmas? The two holidays aren't even on the same day, so what's stopping us from celebrating both? What's stopping us from having sweets at Samhain while paying respect to our dead? What's stopping us from celebrating the solstices and equinoxes while enjoying Muggle holidays? There's no reason to give up our holidays in favor of theirs." He ate a bit of his potatoes before adding: "A people's culture is what makes up their identity, and our history is important, as are our celebrations and rituals. And from what I've heard today, the rituals themselves are illegal in England? Even those that have only beneficial effects, like purification rituals!"

She tilted her head with a slight smile. "Indeed. Some factions believe they are too dangerous to be used."

He rolled his eyes and tapped one of his curls. "I'll tell you as an expert in rituals, that's nonsense. Yes, there are dangerous rituals, even extremely dark ones, but that doesn't mean there aren't also beneficial ones. Moreover, a ritual generally takes time, or at a minimum, requires a specific circle, and it's possible to interrupt them if you know what you're doing, even reverse the effects."

She glanced at his curls and nodded. "I agree with you on that point. Why do you continue calling them first generations, rather than Muggle-borns?"

He shrugged. "Because the definition of a pureblood is 'a wizard who has two pairs of magical grandparents,' which means if they are Muggle-born, they are the first generations of a magical family. English society already has a small enough population; I think it's stupid to reduce it further by not properly integrating the first generations. Magical blood is magical blood. And don't get me started on the rampant inbreeding in this country." He shook his head at the thought and took another sip of wine.

"What's inbreeding?"

He glanced at the boy before responding: "It's the act of marrying someone from the same family. It's stupid and only weakens the blood, it doesn't make it stronger."

"How can you know that?"

He raised an eyebrow before going on to describe several historical cases where inbreeding had destroyed a bloodline as it had with Prince Tutankhamun.

"Humans aren't meant to have children with people from the same family, it just leads to birth defects, like mental problems, infertility, or in the case of wizards, Squibs. Studies show that the rate of Squib births has drastically increased in recent centuries, particularly in families with a high rate of inbreeding."

He finished his plate and commented: "If purebloods keep up their practices and continue rejecting the new blood brought by the first generations, then you'll just disappear in a few generations because of infertility. Besides, it's proven that half-bloods are more powerful than the average. Dumbledore is an example. But also your dark lord."

"He wasn't a half-blood! He descended from Slytherin himself."

"I know. His mother was Merope Gaunt, a Squib descended from Slytherin, and a Muggle lord from the village where she lived, named Tom Riddle." He extended his hand in the air and traced Voldemort's full name with his finger, before making an anagram. "I'm sure that if you look, you'll find all the necessary information on the subject. His family is from Little Hangleton, and he went to Hogwarts. He was even head boy."

The expression on Draco's face suggested he had just been told he was an adopted Muggle-born. 

Alvis smiled amusingly at this and let the letters scatter. 

"Should I deduce from your speech that you have nothing against Squibs?"

He shrugged and opened the dessert menu. "I'm not racist, full stop. A person is a person, regardless of their powers or the form they take. A Squib is just as human as a wizard and can very well live in the non-magical world, with the right education. I'd also say in the magical world, but in England, that's impossible. In America, they hire Squibs and first-generation families for jobs that don't require active magic."

She nodded, satisfied. 

He didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about this last question. 

They ordered their desserts, and Alvis felt the woman's sharp gaze on him the entire time they ate in silence. He hoped that what he was thinking hadn't happened.

When the plates were cleared, Narcissa pulled a stack of parchment from her handbag and said: "I want an annulment."

Draco's indignant exclamation of surprise was promptly ignored. 

He closed his eyes with a sigh, extending his hand and asking: "On what grounds?"

"The murder of my children," she replied in an icy voice.

He reopened his eyes and read the nine parchments, birth and death certificates. All were just after their first year, following the dates of the magical core diagnostics on the last three parchments.

"I suppose not all English wizards reject the idea of a healer being able to test someone's core," he murmured. He raised his head, fixing her with a gaze, and said: "I know how to annul your marriage, but I don't know how to make sure you can keep Draco. He is Lucius' legitimate heir."

"Unless Lucius is in prison, in which case, I'm left as the sole guardian."

"And I suppose you'd be willing to testify to send him there?"

She placed a hand on her belly with a determined look. "Yes."

Never underestimate a Black trying to protect her children, whether magical or not. He nodded and extended his hand. "In that case, we have a deal."

She shook his hand without hesitation.

He paid for their meal, then, once outside, led them down an alley and opened a portal at the entrance to his house. They followed him inside, Draco completely silent and clearly in shock. Alvis led them to the living room, where Andromeda was waiting.

"Hey, Andy! Guess who I brought!"

She lifted her eyes from her cup and raised an eyebrow before standing up. "Narcissa."

"Andromeda."

He ignored them and instead went to open the cupboard with his whiskey, pouring himself a glass. He then turned to the three others, who were seated around cups of tea. He sank into an armchair and took a sip.

"So, Narcissa, do you have the power to free the Malfoy house-elves?"

"Yes."

"Can you do it? It'll serve Lucius right and allow me to take them from him."

"And free Dobby in the process."

She called the three elves over and handed each of them a sock provided by Alvis. They stared at the garments with surprise and unmistakable hope. 

Alvis took another sip, then clapped his hands to get their attention and squatted down in front of them.

"I am Alvis Black Peverell, the guardian of Harry Potter."

"The great Harry Potter, sir?"

"Yes, Dobby. I'm currently looking for house elves." He paused for a moment before calling Kreacher, as he should be part of this discussion. "My cousin Sirius was recently freed from prison and will need a personal elf. The same goes for Narcissa when I annulled her marriage and reinstated her into the Black family. Also, I'm moving to America, and I'll need an elf there."

"Kreacher, do you wish to stay at Grimmauld to maintain the house between visits, or would you like to follow me?"

The elf considered it as the other three debated which position they wanted. "Kreacher will stay in Master Regulus' house."

He nodded, accepting the old elf's decision. Then he turned to the three others. "So?"

"Dobby wants to be Harry Potter's elf, sir!"

"Then you'll be mine, although your primary duty will be to take care of Harry." Dobby let out a joyful squeal, nodding eagerly, and immediately bound himself to his service.

"Neely would like to serve Lady Narcissa and the baby. Neely is a nurse elf."

He looked up at Narcissa, who nodded. The elf bound himself to him while he could assign her to Narcissa. 

He turned to the last one, who nodded firmly. "Padbey will take care of Sirius Black." He nodded and bound himself to him. "Sirius is currently at Saint Mungo, you can start taking care of him once he's out." 

He accepted the instructions, and then Alvis fixed the three elves.

"The orders I'm giving you are permanent and cannot be countered by anyone other than me. You are forbidden to punish yourselves in any way. If you make a mistake or do something that displeases your secondary master, you come to me to explain the situation, and I'll decide the appropriate punishment. And if your secondary master harms you, you come to me immediately. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Master Alvis, sir."

"Good. You may go now. Kreacher will show you where you can stay in the house and what you can do to help."

They all disappeared, and he sat back down in his armchair. 

Draco stared at the spot where they had been with a look of disgust before asking, "Why give them that order? They're just stupid creatures and servants."

"I was friends with a house-elf. He saved my life multiple times and even died for me. We underestimate them far too often. Treat them well, and they will move mountains for you; treat them badly, and they will fight you at every step of the way, using every loophole possible in your orders. And trust me, they can be very creative when it comes to ignoring commands. If I catch you mistreating my elves, I'll order them to do nothing for you. You'll have to clean and do your laundry. The only reason you won't have to cook your meals is because I refuse to deprive a child of food. Am I clear?"

"You're not my father!"

He let a fraction of his magic leak out and gave him a dark look, his canines subtly elongating and sharpening. "Am I clear?" Draco nodded, slightly pale. "Good. I advise you to go to bed. I'll annul the marriage tonight."

They didn't protest and followed Kreacher to the rooms he had just prepared. 

Alvis sighed, finishing his drink before standing up. "Good night, Andy. Thanks again for looking after Harry and seeing the Grangers off."

"It's no trouble. Sleep well, Alvis."

She left as well, and he sighed again. He wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. He checked that Harry was still sound asleep before heading to his office to annul Narcissa's marriage. 

Afterward, he went to change. Poisoned daggers? Check.

Basilisk-skin armor under a tunic and jeans? Check.

Dragon-hide cloak with hood and attached mask? Check.

Curses-breaking tools? Check.

Empty bags with undetectable extension charms? Check.

Once fully equipped, he opened a portal and stepped out at the edge of the wards around the Malfoy manor. Narcissa may have agreed to testify, but Lucius still needed to end up in Madame Bones' hands to be sentenced. He cracked his fingers and got to work.

Getting in was easy. The wards always had a flaw in letting people in and out; the trick was making them believe you had permission to be there.

Looting the manor room by room while thinking of freezing the paintings so they wouldn't sound the alarm? Any beginner could do that. One bag for the books, another for the valuable items, and a third for the paintings.

Opening the trapdoor under the living room rug to expose the stash of dark magic artifacts? No harder than opening a door.

Emptying Narcissa's and Draco's rooms into their respective bags? Extremely easy.

The library was really what took the most time, due to the large number of various protections placed on the books, as well as the secret compartments. However, when he finished, not a single book remained. Everything was in a bag for Draco, to be accessed when he was older and responsible enough.

Running into three Death Eaters in addition to Lucius in his private office? Alvis cursed his luck as the duel began.

The first two fell quickly, having not reacted fast enough to the presence of an intruder. He knocked them unconscious before using a portal to send them to the Auror Department. Then, he focused on Lucius and the third guest, who had to be a Nott, if he remembered correctly.

"Who are you, and how did you get in here?"

"I'm a curse breaker. And I am a curse breaker."

Then, he cast a wandless spell in an attempt to capture them. Their duel lasted about twenty minutes, with Alvis using dark magic that wasn't necessarily intended for combat, while the other two alternated between dark magic and unforgivables. He was starting to despair at their lack of creativity, but not everyone could have as varied a repertoire as his.

They destroyed one wing of the manor, but he won, leaving two unconscious Death Eaters at his feet. He sighed, put his holly wand away, and searched them before opening another portal. He raised an eyebrow at the wands pointed in his direction as he stepped through the portal with the two men thrown over his shoulders.

"Good evening, Madam Bones!"

"Lord Black Peverell... Why am I not surprised?"

He grinned cheerfully behind his mask before throwing the two men on the ground and handing her their wands. "You'll find they've used the Unforgivables several times tonight."

She took the wands and handed them to Mad-Eye Moody, who immediately tucked them into one of his pockets.

"May I ask why you went after them?"

"I need Malfoy in prison, the other three are just a bonus since they were at his house."

One of the Aurors shot him a dark look and asked, "Then why don't we arrest you too?"

He smiled cheerfully and pulled out his diplomatic immunity papers from his bag. "For this!"

The papers circulated the room as Alvis turned back to face Amelia. "It's possible we may have destroyed part of the manor during our duel. But there's still a stash of dark artifacts under the floorboards of their living room. Don't hesitate to call me if you need help with them. Oh! And Narcissa will be ready to testify against her ex-husband."

"Noted, thank you, Lord Black Peverell."

He bowed his head, reached for his papers to retrieve them, and left through another portal. He sighed once he was in his room, changed, and collapsed onto his bed with a grunt of relief. He was exhausted and wanted to sleep for a week.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 / 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰?

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