"Actually, if you were to insist that the Malfoy family is the mastermind behind the abductions of young witches and wizards, it would be a little unfair to them."
Ciel Phantomhive raised his teacup with elegance, sipping the dark brew that Kai Adler had personally prepared. His expression was unreadable, but his brow lifted ever so slightly.
"Mr. Adler's tea brewing is truly exceptional."
Kai remained silent, still frowning slightly in thought.
The people who had kidnapped Hermione had clearly worn the Malfoy family crest—he remembered it with clarity. So why was Ciel claiming it was unfair to accuse them?
"Then speak plainly," Kai said coolly.
Ciel inclined his head. "As you wish."
He stood and walked to the tall window, hands clasped behind his back. Outside, the manor's chefs and gardeners were inexplicably chasing each other with water buckets—utterly unaware of the tension within.
"Do you recall the man you left behind the last time we met?"
"Of course."
It had been the night Hermione was taken. Kai had unleashed his Obscurus in fury, killing two of the kidnappers and leaving the third barely alive, broken under the Cruciatus Curse.
"He talked?"
Ciel smiled faintly. "Mr. Adler, surely you jest. After waking, he was little more than a breathing corpse. Your use of the Cruciatus left him incapable of coherent thought."
Kai gave a slight shrug, as if that had been the expected outcome.
"However," Ciel continued, exchanging a glance with Sebastian behind him, "through certain… other means, we were able to identify him."
With a sudden motion, he pulled the curtains closed, plunging the room into shadow. Dust caught in the filtered light swirled in the gloom, and even sound seemed to fade.
"He has Malfoy blood."
Kai's expression twisted into mild disbelief. "Are you playing games with me, Mr. Phantomhive? You've built this entire tale just to return to that?"
Ciel raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Please, allow me to finish. Yes, he is of Malfoy blood—but he no longer serves the Malfoy family. He has defected. He now works under another pure-blood family."
Kai's eyes narrowed. "And how do you know that? Did you ask that pompous rooster Lucius yourself?"
"Certainly not," Ciel replied dryly. "Though I cannot share all of our methods, I will give you a rational explanation."
He returned to the table, blue eye glowing faintly in the gloom.
"Lucius Malfoy has been in close contact with the British royal family for decades. The amount of gold he siphons from the Muggle world—your world—is staggering. With that level of wealth, he has no need to take risks by involving himself in low-level crime like child trafficking."
Hermione's gasp broke the silence.
"That arrogant man? The one who scorns Muggle-borns the most? He works with Muggles?"
She had assumed that pure-blood supremacists like Malfoy avoided Muggle dealings entirely. Even though she'd learned some things about the Ministry's cooperation with the non-magical government, this was still shocking.
Kai, however, wasn't surprised. He looked at her reflection in the teacup—her eyes wide with innocence and indignation—and smiled bitterly.
"Money, Hermione, can corrode anything. Even magical bloodlines."
He set the cup down gently.
"The truth is simple. Families like the Malfoys—pure-blooded, entitled, unskilled—contribute nothing to society. In my world, they'd be called parasites. They don't create, they don't labor, they don't even govern. They simply consume."
"And wealth, even centuries of it, eventually runs dry."
He leaned back. "The average education level in the wizarding world is laughable. Do you really think they know how to invest, or manage long-term wealth? Of course they turn to the Muggle world for income—and do so in secret, lest they tarnish their so-called purity."
What surprised Kai wasn't that the Malfoys profited off the Muggle world—it was who they had partnered with.
"The royal family?" he asked.
Ciel nodded slightly.
"One of the lesser branches. I assure you, Mr. Adler, they have no relation to my own employer. My loyalty belongs to the Queen herself. I only defended Lucius because I feared you might destroy him—and yourself—with righteous fury."
Kai gave a cold chuckle. "You even know about Azkaban, then? You've studied our world quite well."
With a casual flick of his fingers, the teacup refilled itself.
"Very well. Continue. This defector—what's his story?"
Ciel drew a breath. "We traced his allegiance to an old pure-blood family. The Ivo family."
Kai had never heard the name.
Ciel went on. "Compared to them, the Malfoys are law-abiding citizens."
Kai gave a faint scoff.
"The Ivo family has ties to violent extremist groups stretching back to the Middle Ages. They've long operated as predators within Muggle society—smuggling, assassinations, theft. But their darkest legacy lies deeper still."
He paused.
"Legend holds that one of their ancestors brokered a deal with a corrupt Pope, using the Christian Crusades as cover to plunder across Europe for over two centuries."
For the first time, Kai's composure slipped.
"You mean the Crusades?" he asked slowly.
Ciel nodded. "Yes. In truth, their name appears in some of the oldest Muggle records—always in the margins, always adjacent to bloodshed."
Hermione sat frozen, lips parted in stunned silence.
"But," Ciel continued, "the founding of the Ministry of Magic, and especially the International Statute of Secrecy, forced them into the shadows. They could no longer act openly. So now they traffic in secrets—and in people."
"Like children," Kai said coldly. "Like Hermione."
He rose slowly, placing his teacup down with perfect precision. The pupils of his eyes swirled with dark, inky smoke—black magic rising visibly from his form.
"So where is this Ivo family now?"
Ciel hesitated.
"…We don't know."
The black mist thickened.
"You don't know?"
Smoke hissed from Kai's fingertips, beginning to scorch the carved arms of his chair. The room dropped in temperature, and even Sebastian stepped forward with one arm in front of Ciel.
Kai stood.
"You brought us all this way," he said softly, dangerously, "fed us a maze of half-truths, and now tell me you know nothing?"
He drew his wand. Pale and ancient, cloaked in a haze of black mist—it was the Elder Wand.
"I think it would be faster if I persuade you myself."
Scarlet light glinted in Sebastian's pupils, and both men tensed.
Just as the air became unbearably thick, a warm hand grabbed Kai's wrist.
"Kai."
Hermione's voice cut through the magic like sunlight.
All at once, the smoke vanished. The pressure lifted. Kai turned to her, as if waking from a dream, and saw the quiet panic in her brown eyes.
"…Calm down."
Kai let out a slow breath, then lowered the wand.
Behind Sebastian, Ciel exhaled in relief and stepped forward.
"I don't know," he said carefully. "But Lucius Malfoy does."