Chapter 712 - An Evening at Madam Zenarie’s Emporium Ⅳ (2/2)

”Enough!” Sanderson thundered with murder plain in his gaze, before turning his gaze to Rosier Sr. ”And I presume that is also why you want him dead, Rosier!?”

”My boy is dead,” Rosier Sr. scoffed back. ”And I am not the only one that desires his head on a silver platter. I am certain that the Old Prince wants his head for his wife's death and Lucius Malfoy for that of his father. And those are only a few to mention not including the recent murder of Damocles Belby. Tom Marvolo Riddle is a poisonous hazard to the wizarding world; he must be eliminated.”

Unable to repute neither pureblood words, Sanderson curtly nods his head at the two pureblood wizards in acceptance. ”Very well then, we have an accord,” he flatly hissed. ”I trust that we will ALL fulfill our end of the bargain?”

”Naturally,” Avery Sr. gravely replied, ”our dead must be avenged.”

Sanderson slowly nods his head in acknowledgment of the pureblood's words. He did not need to like these two purebloods to work in conjunction with them to avenge their losses. For they would all be avenged especially that of his own son.

Avery Sr. and Rosier Sr. excuse themselves with a curt nod, before striding out of the chamber, and roughly shutting the door behind them. Alone in the chamber, Sanderson's face fills with old pain and sorrow. His face suddenly looks his age very much, wrinkled with the passage of time.

Sanderson recalls his dead son from many years ago, John. John had always been a sweet and excitable boy even in his childhood. His boy had not wanted to go into the business like his eldest and truthfully Sanderson had not protested. His boy was far too soft to survive in his world, and he'd permitted his boy to explore his options.

Still, wanting to help the family, John decided to open a shop. However, lacking any experience in the shopkeeping business, Sanderson had found a shop with dealings in the underworld to take his son as a shopkeeper's apprentice. In this manner, he'd have some control over the shop and be able to have a say in his boy's apprenticeship. He knew very well that apprentices weren't always treated with care by their master's if not outright exploited in the worst of manners.

John has been eager to commence an apprenticeship at Borgin and Burkes. In time, he came to work alongside a recent graduate from Hogwarts. Tom Marvolo Riddle was a handsome, but rather charming lad by all accounts. Sanderson had seen the gleam of interest in his son's eyes at the mention of the other apprentice shopkeeper. He'd always known that his younger son had more than a passing fancy in lads having always liked lads over lasses. Perhaps, he would have minded had he not had an elder son, who took interest in the family business.

Sanderson tiredly closes his eyes as he recalls that fateful evening. He'd been busy at the Monarch Pub, and he'd had no time to listen to his John's ramblings. How he wished he had listened to his youngest son, but he had not. All he heard that day was that if something happened to him to look for the other apprentice at the shop, Tom. His boy had never returned home that night or the next nor evermore.

Sanderson had sent his men in droves to search for his boy but his men had found nothing to his and his wife, Clarice's intence despair. It was at the moment and as to the reason why Sanderson had at last relented and permitted the Rain Man's presence in London in exchange for finding his son and his killer. Quickly enough his son's corpse had been found carefully hidden in a secluded area, but his killer, Tom Marvolo Riddle had vanished with the wind. And the Rain Man even with the aid of the Spirits had been able to divine beyond that.

”A life for a life,” Sanderson whispered as he slowly opened his eyes and uttered the same words that Reginald had once spoken to him in the past. ”A life for a life, the debt must be repaid, Sanguis Enim Sanguis.” With cold decisiveness, he rises to his feet. He had a culling to prepare and a pact with the Ministry of Magic to fulfill. And that he would.

However, before then, Sanderson would write to Reginald Prince with the news. He was not certain what the old Prince would make of it. But he knew for a fact that with the revelation, the old Prince would begin to sharpen his weapons. He'd not move until he was certain of the kill. And Reginald Prince had never lost a duel to the death not even once.