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"Hehehe!"
The seductive barmaid giggled sweetly at the old wizard's words, then covered her mouth and asked:
"You've got a way with words, old man. So, what can I get you?"
The old wizard wrapped his arm around hers, smiling warmly.
"We're looking for some friends. My friend told me they're here tonight. Would you happen to know them?"
The barmaid's smile faltered for a split second, then she smoothly pulled away from his embrace and shook her head with a forced smile.
"Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. All we've got here are regular folks who like a drink or two."
The old wizard didn't seem to mind her reply. He casually reached into his robe and pulled out a handful of Galleons. The golden coins sparkled in the dim underground bar, immediately drawing everyone's eyes.
Auston noticed the barmaid's gaze lock onto the coins, and the guarded look in her eyes was slowly replaced with a dazed, almost dreamy expression.
Seeing her reaction, the old wizard said nothing. He simply smiled and slid the Galleons down the front of her top.
The cold touch of the coins made her shiver, snapping her back to reality for a second—but then, as if something clicked in her mind, she gritted her teeth and said:
"Sorry. I'm not that kind of girl."
The old wizard wasn't angry. He just chuckled and, again, calmly took out another stack of Galleons, slipping them the same way down her neckline.
From where Auston stood, he could even hear one nearby wizard's breathing grow heavier.
The barmaid, flushed and clearly overwhelmed, gave the old wizard a flirtatious wink and whispered:
"Tonight, I'm all yours. You can do whatever you want."
The old wizard just shook his head with a smile, then—for the third time—took out another handful of Galleons and tucked them into her top.
Feeling the growing weight on her chest, the barmaid took a deep breath, then glanced toward one of the private rooms in the bar, raising an eyebrow slightly.
The old wizard gave a satisfied smile, motioned for Auston to follow him, and the two of them brushed past the barmaid toward the indicated room.
Meanwhile, the barmaid—now loaded with Galleons—ran straight to the entrance where Auston's group had entered and bolted out of the underground bar.
But before the old wizard and Auston could take more than a few steps, a group of wand-wielding wizards blocked their path.
"Gentlemen," a calm voice called out from behind the blockers. "This is my bar. Everyone who comes here is a guest. I don't want any trouble in my place."
One of the blocking wizards stepped aside, revealing a man in a top hat sitting casually at the bar with a drink in hand.
At the same time, about half the wizards in the bar stood up, casting wary and even greedy eyes toward Auston and the old wizard.
As tension crackled in the air, the other wizards who'd entered with Auston—members of the Pureblood Revival Party—raised their wands in unison, creating a tight crossfire formation throughout the bar. A fight seemed just seconds away.
But the old wizard didn't flinch. Instead, he turned to Auston and asked in a testing tone:
"Auston, in a situation like this, what do you think we should do?"
Auston took a deep breath. His grip on his wand tightened, but his voice was steady:
"If it comes to it, then we fight. My wand's been itching for some action anyway."
The old wizard gave a low chuckle and said:
"Not a bad answer. Brave enough. But we're not quite there yet."
Then, without hesitation, he pulled out his wand—causing the tension in the room to spike instantly. The blocking wizards immediately aimed their wands at him, and Auston quickly raised his own, pointing straight at the man at the bar—a clear threat.
But the old wizard ignored the standoff and calmly raised his wand toward a nearby wall.
With a smooth flick, an image began to burn itself into the wall like fire: a triangle enclosing a circle, pierced vertically by a line—the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.
Gasps rippled through the room.
The bar owner, still standing at the bar, looked up at the symbol in disbelief.
"Not long ago," he said slowly, "there was a rumor out of Gringotts in London. They said the heir of that family showed up, opened the family vault… and then disappeared without a trace."
"It's been a while. I thought it was just a story. But now… was it true?"
The old wizard, twirling his wand idly, burst into a hearty laugh.
"Oh, come on. Stop being cryptic. 'That family's heir'? You can't say the name now? My master's no idiot like Voldemort, who ended up being called 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'—how stupid is that?"
"I'll tell you straight up—yes, it's true. The heir of the Grindelwald family has returned to the wizarding world. And we, the Pureblood Revival Party, have a new leader."
He swept his sharp gaze across the room, then added, voice cold and clear:
"You can spread the word. Let all wizards know: the Pureblood Revival Party still stands with glory. We're not some dying remnant."
The bar exploded into murmurs. The wizards who'd made Knockturn Alley their home knew exactly what those words meant—the Revival Party was coming back in force.
The old wizard didn't bother with the others anymore. His eyes locked on the bar owner as he began walking slowly toward him.
The wizards who'd been blocking the way were now quietly stepping aside, unable to withstand the pressure radiating from the old man.
He stopped right next to the bar owner and said, slowly and deliberately:
"Since you're running a bar in a place like this, I assume you're no fool. You should know the rules of the Pureblood Revival Party."
"Submit… or die."
"....."