Chapter 689 - Ruse Aftermath Ⅲ (1/2)
By 8 o'clock in the morning streams of letters were arriving at the Ministry of Magic from the former werewolves, the potion guild, and all those that had admired the genius potion master Damocles Belby pleading for justice on behalf of the deceased Potions Master. And having anticipated such an event, the Ministry of Magic released an early bulletin with the information they had acquired from the captives. A few more names were provided with various points of attack, which led the Auror's and A.P.D. to raid various other locations.
Most were failures as the persons in question had cleared out locations the night before, but enough physical evidence was found to confirm the testimonies of those found captive. While on the few raids that were successful, the suspects were taken into custody to immediately have their confessions taken in. The wheels of justice were slow, but they were moving along.
The Daily Prophet later printed an evening edition with the late testament of Damocles Belby obtained from the Goblins. In his letter, he stated that he left a portion of his wealth for the education of children and those interested in the arts of Potion Mastery to be administrated by the goblins in a trust. Still, a large portion of fortune went to his brother, Asclepius Belby, and the rest of it to his apprentice, Wilfredius. In included is the announcement of the funeral to be held the following morning, and per his instructions, Damocles Belby had asked to be cremated. His ashes would be scattered to the wind, but a tombstone would be erected for those that wished to pay their respects to his memory.
However earlier that same morning before the Daily Prophet arrived, a knock was heard at the door of a large cottage in the countryside with a neatly tended garden. A younger-looking goblin with pointy ears and long flexed fingers held a letter clutched in hand. His neatly trimmed fingernails encircle the letter, Ragnok, a goblin of Gringotts Bank, and the administrator of Rowan Prince's Gringotts accounts.
The sky was still dark, but footsteps can be heard as the door is wrenched open wide at the foul hour. ”What?!” Asclepius Belby snapped sounding far too much like his older brother.
Asclepius Belby's dark brown hair was all stray just having risen from bed. His dark eyes scan the grounds in front of him in puzzlement until a polite cough drew his gaze downward and he spotted the smartly dressed young goblin. ”Do I have the pleasure of meeting Asclepius Belby, the younger brother of potion master, Damocles Belby?”
”I have nothing to say to the press regarding any achievements nor words on my brother,” Asclepius briskly said as he moved inside to slam the door shut.
”No sir, I would never dream to occupy such a ghastly, bloodthirsty occupation,” Ragnok said with a dreadful shiver. ”Mr. Belby, if I may address you as such, I have been tasked to deliver a letter as requested by the belated Damocles Belby.”
”Fine,” Asclepius grumbled not paying much attention to the goblin's words, and took the letter from the goblins grasp. ”Well is that all?” He impatiently snapped.
”Quite, sir,” Ragnok said with an annoyed sniff. ”And once again, Mr. Belby, my belated condolences,” he said, before making his way down the path where a winged horse carriage awaits below.
Asclepius still groggy slams the door shut as a stout witch with clear, kind eyes emerged from their chamber, his wife, Annice. ”Who was it?” She asked as she tied her bed robe sash around her.
”A goblin,” Asclepius huffed as he sat down at the kitchen table tossing the letter onto the table without a care nor a second glance. It must have been the early hour, but he could have sworn the goblin said his belated brother. And what was that about giving his condolences?!
”Strange if you ask me,” Annise muttered as she put a kettle on the stove to make a pot of tea. ”So, what did the letter say?”
”Letter?” Asclepius asked, before recalling the letter he had carelessly tossed onto the kitchen table. ”Right,” he said as he tore the letter open and began to read in a loud voice.
”To my vexing younger brother,
Asclepius Belby,
If you are reading this then I am no longer in this world. I am certain that you will be somewhat gladdened by my passing. However, I must admit I do regret in part the distance between us prior to my timely departure.”
Asclepius's voice cut off as he recognized the spikey handwriting as belonging to that of his older brother, Damocles. With a loud quiver in his voice, he continues to read,
”It is strange to say, but I find myself lamenting the oddest of things as of late. Never mind, that I cannot stand the proximity of others, but still I find myself missing the company of others including yours. It is strange but true, I can't think of a single instance where we were not at odds with each other. We always had too much pride to ever listen clearly to what the other had to say. Alas, time is far too fleeting, and now it is much too late to change.”