"That's impossible!" Yulia snapped, glaring at him with a mix of anger and disbelief.
"One hundred thousand Galleons? Do you think my family owns Gringotts?" she scoffed. "If we had that kind of money, we wouldn't have needed to align with the Dark Lord in the first place!"
Alex wasn't surprised by her reaction. He hadn't expected her to agree to the amount outright. Negotiation always started with an outrageous demand, after all. "Then tell me," Alex said, his voice steady, "what price do you think is appropriate?"
Yulia's jaw clenched as she tried to suppress her growing frustration. "Two thousand Galleons," she spat. "That's the highest I can offer."
Alex laughed, shaking his head. "Two thousand Galleons? For a vault full of blackmail material? Are you serious? There were one thousand Galleons in gold coins in the safe alone. And you're trying to use my spoils as bargaining chips? That's a joke."
Yulia's lips thinned, but she refused to back down. "If you've already found the safe, then you must have also found the unsigned title deeds inside. Two thousand Galleons, plus the gold and deeds, should be more than enough."
Alex's smirk deepened. "Those Galleons and deeds are mine—spoils of war I claimed at great personal risk. I nearly lost my life to Torquil, and now you want to use my spoils to bargain with me? Don't insult me."
Alex had truly risked everything this time. Exhaustion gnawed at him as he stayed up all night conducting experiments, enduring grueling pressure, and even facing physical torment. On top of that, he had to keep up the act for the Aurors, pretending he was just another kid in over his head. For someone who valued a disciplined routine, staying up late was as good as torture. Yet here he was, risking not only his health but also his Galleons and possibly his life—each step closer to sudden death.
And yet, Yulia still had the nerve to argue. "Do you even understand who you're dealing with? The Travers family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the oldest and purest bloodlines in the wizarding world! If you accept our terms, you'll gain an ally. Refuse, and you'll make an enemy—not just of us, but of the entire pure-blood elite!"
Alex's eyes narrowed. 'Oh, you're trying to play games with me again? Trying to pull both threats and promises to manipulate me? Fine, let's see how far you'll go.'
"Do you know who you're dealing with right now?" Alex's voice dropped, low and icy. His expression turned menacing as he took a step toward Yulia, his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.
Yulia flinched under his glare, instinctively backing up until her legs hit the edge of the sofa. She lost her balance and stumbled, collapsing awkwardly onto the cushions. Looking up at Alex, who loomed over her with cold, unrelenting intensity, she felt utterly cornered.
"Let me introduce myself properly," Alex said, his tone dangerously calm. "My name is Alex Wilson. I turned fourteen this year. I don't enjoy arguments—they're a waste of time and make unnecessary enemies. But if someone insists on becoming a problem for me, I don't hesitate to deal with them. I won't lose. I'll crush them before they even know what hit them."
He leaned in closer, his voice hardening. "You're standing before a wizard who single-handedly eliminated five Death Eaters. Do you think I'm afraid of your crumbling little family? I'm not here to bargain with you because I know your dirty secrets. I'm here because I have the strength to wipe the Travers name off the Sacred Twenty-Eight and turn it into the Sacred Twenty-Seven!"
Each word landed like a hammer. By the time Alex finished speaking, Yulia was pale, cold sweat dripping down her back. She tried to muster her courage, glaring at him through gritted teeth. "Are you trying to scare me?"
"No." Alex's lips twisted into a grim smirk. "I'm stating facts. And yes, I'm warning you. Consider it a threat if you like."
Yulia felt like prey, cornered and defenseless against a predator. She trembled under the weight of his words, the oppressive aura radiating from him making her feel smaller and smaller.
"But... we can't possibly produce one hundred thousand Galleons," she finally stammered, her voice faltering. "You're making an impossible demand."
"I know," Alex said, straightening up. He walked back to his seat and sat down, casually crossing his legs. "If you can't pay in gold, you can pay in other ways. Materials, potions... or knowledge."
Yulia's breath hitched. Her instincts screamed that whatever he was about to say would be disastrous. "What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.
"Oh, you know exactly what I mean," Alex replied with a pointed look. "The Travers family vault has plenty of treasures, doesn't it? Rare artifacts, Slytherin's manuscripts, mithril... and 'that.'"
Yulia froze. She had no idea how Alex knew about 'that,' but her mind raced. Torquil must have spilled everything! How much had this brat uncovered about their family?
"You're trying to strip us of everything," she accused, her voice trembling with both fear and fury. "You want to dig out our roots and leave us nothing!"
"Don't be so dramatic," Alex said lightly, his tone almost mocking. "As long as you're alive, there's always hope. Isn't that what you pure-bloods love to say? Compared to rotting away in Azkaban alongside Torquil, those treasures are just meaningless objects, aren't they?"
Yulia clenched her fists, torn between rage and despair. The Travers family vault was more than just wealth; it represented the legacy of generations, their very identity. And now Alex was treating it like some bargain bin.
Seeing her hesitation, Alex didn't push further. Instead, he pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. "You'd better decide soon, Yulia," he said with a sly smile. "Your window of opportunity is closing fast. The reporter from the Daily Prophet I invited should be here any moment now."
As if on cue, a knock echoed through the room. "Come in," Alex called, his tone calm and composed.
An Auror stepped inside—a familiar face. "Vanessa, long time no see," Alex greeted her with surprising warmth.
"Alex," Vanessa replied with a nod, her professional demeanor slipping slightly as she smiled. "It's been a while. But let's skip the catch-up. There's a reporter named Rita Skeeter waiting outside. She claims you invited her. Do you want me to send her away?"
Alex shook his head. "No, I did invite her. But let her wait a little longer—I'm wrapping things up here."
"Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting too long," Vanessa said lightly, then glanced at Yulia, whose expression was twisted with frustration. "Probably not."
Vanessa noticed Alex wasn't alone, her eyes shifting toward the figure seated on the sofa with her back facing her. Though she couldn't see who it was, it was obvious the guest was a woman. "You didn't run into any trouble, did you?" Vanessa asked with a trace of concern. She had always thought well of Alex and felt compelled to check on him.
"Trouble? Me? What could possibly trouble me?" Alex replied with an easy smile. "This is just a friend of mine. We finally caught up after a while and are discussing, you know, 'life' and 'the future.'" His tone carried a teasing note, though his smile seemed genuine.