A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 579 A Gathering of Heroes
“That Harry…”

Charles shook his head as he read the letter.

Gabrielle and Ruby were sharing a bag of hazelnut cookies, one for each of them, and the air was filled with an enticing aroma.

She turned her head, chewing as she mumbled, "What happened to Harry?"

Charles laughed and said, "He's being bullied by a lot of people and he's asking me for help."

As the saying goes, "If you beat the little one, the old one will come," he never expected that Harry would be bullied and ask him for help.

When was the last time?

Charles thought for a long time, and it seemed to be about the time he kicked the kindergarten on Privet Road.

"Are you going back to fight for him?"

Gabrielle's eyes lit up instantly, as if a small flame had been lit, her face full of excitement, as if she could already see the scene of the wand being waved, sparks flying, and a lively spectacle.

Charles shook his head and said, "He just wants me to help him buy some things."

"Shall we go shopping in Paris today?"

Gabrielle immediately replied, "Okay!"

She immediately cheered and eagerly stuffed the remaining half of the cookie in her hand into Ruby's hands.

While the two were strolling around Paris, Draco Malfoy, far away in England, deliberately plunged headlong into the eye of an unprecedented storm.

Since communication laptops became popular, the owls in Hogwarts' Owl Room have had much less work to do, and their bodies have gradually become ruby-colored.

On this day, the owls, who hadn't flown for a long time and were almost breaking their wings, sent out letters, each one formally worded and exquisite in its parchment and ink.

Malfoy issued a wide call for heroes, inviting the still-breathing heroes of the Twenty-Eight Banners of Old Britain to lend their strength, or simply to show their support if they were able.

They actually found quite a few people for him. Those who could come gathered in the private rooms of Pig Head Bar that day, and those who couldn't come wrote a letter to show their support.

Xiao Ma sat upright in his seat, his gaze slowly sweeping over the familiar, dignified, or enigmatic faces around the round table.

His heart was pounding rapidly, like a rapid drumbeat pounding in his chest, and his palms were slightly sweaty.

At the same time, he felt both nervous and excited.

Malfoy had seen his parents and many elders discuss serious matters before, while he simply stood by, serving tea and water, and was not allowed to make a sound.

Now, he finally sits in his father's seat, discussing matters worth tens or hundreds of millions of gallons like an adult.

"The restoration of the Malfoy family's glory depends on this one act!"

A flame ignited in Malfoy's heart.

Mr. Greengrass gave him a deep look, his gaze sharp as a knife, and his deep, serious voice echoed in the small box, saying with unquestionable solemnity, "Draco, this is the last time I will call you Draco."

"From the moment you sent that letter on behalf of the Malfoy family, you were no longer just Draco Malfoy, you were Draco Malfoy of the Malfoy family."

“The weight, responsibility, and constraints that come with this identity,” he emphasized, “I hope you fully understand now and are ready to shoulder it.”

These words were by no means ordinary pleasantries.

Greengrass was reminding us, confirming us, and issuing a stern warning.

Today, we are gathered here to discuss not some lighthearted matter like a picnic or outing, but a momentous event worthy of being recorded in the annals of magic and becoming a key point in the magic history exams for future young wizards.

One wrong step could affect the reputation and prosperity of the family for the next hundred years.

The air in the private room seemed to have been completely sucked out, instantly freezing into a suffocating atmosphere.

Abbott, Black, Burst, Burke, Barty Crouch Sr., Foley, Flint, Mrs. Longbottom, Macmillan, Ollivander, Parkinson, Ex Prewitt, Shackleton, Shafiq, Slughorn, and Percy all looked at Malfoy. Today, they sat here as the heads of their families, no longer holding any other identity, but representing only the heavy history and naked interests behind their respective surnames.

Even if Minister of Magic Fudge himself were to visit, he would still have to treat this group of influential figures, who embody ancient power and profound knowledge, with utmost respect and dare not show the slightest disrespect.

Malfoy immediately felt immense pressure, but calmed down a bit.

“I know, Mr. Greengrass.” He paused, then said firmly, “My words speak for the Malfoy family.”

Although his parents are alive, their whereabouts are unknown and they cannot appear in public, so he has the right to say this.

Others might not care about the Malfoy family's affairs, but since he said so, everyone accepted it.

Now, let's get down to business.

Malfoy said slowly, "Mr. Charles Smith has officially signed a power of attorney authorizing me to be fully responsible for the compensation negotiations with Gringotts."

"The authorization letter clearly stipulates that if we successfully recover more than three million Gallons, we will receive 5% of that amount as commission."

“I propose that this extra share not be kept by my Malfoy family alone, but be divided equally among all the families involved in this joint operation!”

Discuss the distribution of benefits before starting any business to avoid problems arising midway.

A faint rustling of clothes and a barely audible cough echoed in the private room, and the group quickly exchanged knowing glances.

Everyone knows perfectly well that the vast majority of the families present are just there to bolster their presence and create a festive atmosphere. The only ones who can truly lead the charge at the negotiating table, strategize behind the scenes, and influence the situation are probably just a handful.

Those truly capable and ambitious family representatives are not only after a fraction of the Gallons; their eyes are already set on the unfathomable foundation of Gringotts, or some other purpose.

Ex Prewitt, his lips pressed tightly together, sat stiffly among the group of pure-blooded wizards, a fine bead of sweat even forming on his forehead.

His goal was simple yet difficult—to revive the Pewter family’s crumbling, almost forgotten reputation and pave a less thorny, discriminatory path for his daughter Mafalda in the wizarding world.

The money was secondary; the sense of participation, the symbol of being able to enter the core circle of purebloods, was the key to his risky journey.

Slughorn wore a warm, spring-like smile, but behind his glasses, his small eyes burned with an insatiable thirst for fame.

He needed a momentous event to shake the magic world once again, an event that would dramatically increase the value of his meticulously woven network of connections, to prove that his wisdom remained unparalleled.

This large-scale joint debt collection effort was the perfect stage he had been dreaming of.

Barty Crouch Sr. sat with impeccable posture, like a sculpture, his expression so serious and rigid that it was completely devoid of emotion.

His sharp eyes swept over the crowd, suggesting that he and Fudge must have reached some tacit agreement beforehand.

Now that he's sitting here, he represents far more than just the interests of the Crouch family; he represents the will of the Ministry of Magic. He's here to oversee the process, guide the direction, and even get a bigger slice of the pie.

Percy's young face carried a deliberate, almost stiff solemnity, his back ramrod straight, as if to uphold the dignity of the entire family.

He would never miss any opportunity to stand in the spotlight.

To this end, he had an in-depth conversation with his father, and ultimately he represented the Weasley family in this operation.

Old Mrs. Longbottom was a bit simple-minded; last night she kept muttering about whether Neville could work at Gringotts in the future.

Greengrass's motives were quite simple: his eldest daughter's attempt to seduce Charles had failed, so now he wanted to assess Malfoy's background. If he was a good match, he'd take him; if not, he'd have a good talk with Mrs. Longbottom about Neville; and if all else failed, Seamus would be a good alternative...

For families with lofty ambitions and far-reaching plans, this commission is merely an added bonus.

For families that lack ambition or the resources, this windfall is like a pie falling from the sky.

Therefore, Malfoy's proposal to split the excess commission equally did not arouse any opposition in the box; there was only tacit approval and slight nods.

(End of this chapter)