"I can't believe that standing before me is truly the heir of the Selwyn family—Soldaya Selwyn, who has displayed an affinity for the Dark Arts since childhood!"
Lucius Malfoy turned sharply toward old Selwyn. Soldaya's public challenge to Moriarty had certainly not been part of their carefully arranged plan.
Old Selwyn's expression soured deeply. He gazed at Soldaya with a mix of sorrow and fury. His grandson—his own flesh and blood—held nothing but loathing for his father.
By Merlin's beard... did the Selwyn family even have a future?
"Mr. Moriarty, I must apologize for this disgraceful and barbaric incident at my gathering. I am prepared to compensate you for any offense caused."
Lucius shot a furious glare at Soldaya. "No one—no one—threatens a friend of the Malfoy family!"
Soldaya returned a contemptuous smirk. The ever-pretentious Lucius. If even one of his ten sentences carried sincerity, Merlin himself deserved an award.
That sneering grin, however, caught Moriarty's eye. In that very moment, he glimpsed a reflection of himself in the boy before him.
Moriarty regarded the young man properly now—long, dark hair with natural curls at the ends, sharp features, thin lips, amber eyes glinting with unwavering focus. And in those depths—clarity.
"Mr. Lucius," Moriarty said, voice smooth but firm, "a true Slytherin does not cower from challenge. Nor does he rely on the protection of others. These are values etched into the legacy of Salazar Slytherin himself, dating back to the First Goblin Rebellion."
His gaze fixed on Soldaya as he spoke. But before Lucius could utter a word, Soldaya replied coldly, "Excellent. You agree. The wisest decision you've ever made."
"Let's duel," Moriarty stated plainly, before turning to address the gathering. "You are all witnesses."
Murmurs spread through the room. Lucius and Cornelius Fudge exchanged glances—things had certainly taken an unpredictable turn.
"Why accept the duel?" Arthur Weasley called out from the crowd. "You're more powerful than any sixth-year at Hogwarts!" His sons echoed his concern. Apart from Bill and perhaps Charlie, no student at Hogwarts could match Moriarty.
"This duel was sealed the moment Soldaya Selwyn challenged me," Moriarty explained. "Let this be a lesson. From a Slytherin Patriarch to the pure-blood youth!"
"You think I'm beneath you? Heh... huh..." Soldaya laughed as though he'd heard a joke. Then, without warning, he struck: "Ossio Discidium!"
No one had seen him draw his wand. A dark, red-black beam burst from his wand tip, streaking straight toward Moriarty.
Gasps rang out among the ladies. An Unforgivable Curse—from an eleven-year-old?
Fudge turned ghostly pale. Casting an Unforgivable in the presence of Ministry officials?
Old Selwyn's face turned ashen. "No! That boy—he stole my wand!"
But Moriarty remained composed. Calmly, he reached beneath his robes and retrieved his cedar wand. Only when the curse neared did he respond.
"Crucio."
A scarlet spell collided with Soldaya's, obliterating it midair. Soldaya had never expected the Cruciatus Curse to be met with its own kind. He was flung backward like a broken kite, crashing through a line of chairs before crumpling to the floor. His wand skidded across the floor and landed near Moriarty's feet.
Eyes narrowing, Moriarty stooped and picked up the wand. Soldaya writhed, his body contorting and twitching like a shrimp thrown onto a hot skillet, but he refused to cry out. The pain was visible, yet he bit down hard, unwilling to give Moriarty the satisfaction.
He looked up, his amber eyes burning with pain, frustration—and hate. First toward Moriarty, then toward his grandfather. That hatred, coupled with his refusal to yield, revealed something else.
Moriarty nodded in quiet approval. That kind of iron will outstripped many grown wizards.
But he had other matters to attend to.
Taking the wand, Moriarty examined it—Selwyn's wand. The sight made the old man tense.
Crack!
Moriarty snapped the wand in two.
"Mr. Moriarty! That's my wand!" Old Selwyn stumbled forward, voice a mix of outrage and desperation.
"I'm aware. But your grandson lost it to me—in a duel. And by wizarding custom, it belongs to me now. I'm free to do as I wish." Moriarty clapped the old man on the shoulder, sending a subtle jolt through his hunched frame. "Don't think I'm unaware that the letter from the Gaunt family was ghostwritten by you—for your master. Shall I describe the scene? You sat hunched in a dark basement, wand in hand, dictating every word to that quill—half a month ago."
His words pierced the air like a dagger.
As he spoke, Moriarty's eyes swept the room—Lucius, Crabbe, Goyle, Old Foley, Bock, and other former Death Eaters. Each flinched, avoiding his gaze. One, Erwin, collapsed to his knees, sweat dripping down his temples.
"H-How... how do you know that?"
Moriarty smirked. "How do I know? I didn't—not until now. I merely baited you."
He let that sink in.
"But I did suspect the author of the letter was a Death Eater. I was narrowing the list, one by one."
Moriarty glanced again toward the others. None met his gaze. They silently begged him to stop talking, to walk away.
"And thanks to your grandson, I had the perfect chance to identify you."
He raised his wand and pointed the tip toward Old Selwyn's forehead.
"I could kill you here and now," Moriarty whispered, "but I'll spare you—for the sake of Mr. Fudge."
He nodded toward Fudge, who puffed up like a pleased peacock.
"You've insulted me, betrayed your station. But what you've done to Soldaya? That... that is your doom. And it won't be your master who ends you—it'll be your grandson."
Old Selwyn let out a pitiful whimper and collapsed.
Moriarty felt no sympathy. He remembered well—during the Battle of the Seven Potters, a Selwyn had chased Harry and Hagrid. That same Selwyn had lent Voldemort his wand. That same man had handed Xenophilius Lovegood over to be tortured. A Death Eater through and through—now rotting in Azkaban.
Soldaya's father.
No wonder the boy loathed both him and the old man.
Moriarty ended the Cruciatus on Soldaya and placed the broken wand between the two Selwyns—symbolic and final.
Then, ignoring the stunned silence, he turned to the crowd. He clapped his hands once.
"Mr. Lucius, I've delivered quite the performance. Might I trouble you for a drink? Something from the Bordeaux cellars, perhaps?"
"A-Ah! Of course!" Lucius stammered, dazed. He turned to leave but paused midway, snapping back, "Dobby! Come serve our guest!"
Lucius scowled inwardly. When had he started following Moriarty's commands like a servant?
But Moriarty didn't stop there.
He raised his voice. "Now, I ask that all members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight remain here with Mr. Fudge and myself. All others may step outside."
He waved kindly at the younger witches and wizards.
"Go on—out you go! This is grown-up business. Soldaya may remain."
Draco and the others fled like frightened pixies. Neville tumbled six times in his haste, tears streaming down his face. No one turned back—even as Soldaya crawled slowly on the ground behind them.
Moriarty watched the boy and smiled faintly. "I propose that, since old Mr. Selwyn is... indisposed, Soldaya Selwyn shall now serve as the Selwyn family's representative."
No one opposed him.
Arthur's circle of pure-bloods held no allegiance to Selwyn. Lucius's faction, meanwhile, was already contemplating how to divide and devour the Selwyn estate.
"Well, Soldaya," Moriarty said, settling into a black chair, "if you can walk, take your seat."
Without a word, Soldaya rose, clutching his chest. He did not glance at his fallen grandfather. He walked straight to Moriarty and took the chair beside him.
Fudge quickly flanked Moriarty's other side.
Lucius, scowling, sat directly opposite, his usual allies gathering around him.
Moriarty began to count the houses present.
Lucius – Malfoy family
Narcissa – Black family
Mr. Greengrass – Greengrass family
Theodore Nott's father – Nott family
Mr. Parkinson – Parkinson family
Mr. Borkin – Borgin family
Old Travers – Travers family
Then, the families aligned with Arthur:
Arthur Weasley – Weasley family
Molly Weasley – Prewett family
Augusta Longbottom – Longbottom family
Mrs. Abbott – Abbott family
Mr. Macmillan – Macmillan family
Kingsley Shacklebolt – Shacklebolt family
Horace Slughorn – Slughorn family
With the addition of Soldaya representing the Selwyn family, that made fifteen families.
Seven families—Shafiq, Yaxley, Rosier, Rowle, Lestrange, Carrow, and Avery—remained imprisoned in Azkaban.
The Bulstrode family lacked a representative. The only known relation, Millicent Bulstrode, shared distant ties with the Potters, but Harry, locked away by the Dursleys, clearly couldn't attend.
The Gaunt family's representative, Voldemort, was still hiding in Albania's forests.
That left nine families unable to appear.
Finally, four families stood alone, unaffiliated with either side:
Barty Crouch Sr. – Crouch family
Garrick Ollivander – Ollivander family
Old Foley – Foley family
Elder Flint – Flint family
At long last, the Sacred Twenty-Eight had gathered.
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