"So what about the bounty?"
Liam's attention immediately returned to the most important topic.
Money.
"Right here."
Fudge grinned and pulled a dragonhide pouch from inside his robes.
The bag had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm and was commonly used by the Ministry for transporting large quantities of valuables.
He handed it over.
"Though I'd strongly recommend accompanying us to Gringotts and opening a proper vault."
The Minister looked at the bag meaningfully.
"Carrying this much gold around isn't exactly safe."
Liam slipped a hand inside and quietly checked the contents with magic.
Twelve thousand Galleons.
Every coin was present.
His mood improved considerably.
"I already have a vault at Gringotts."
He tied the pouch securely to his belt.
"I'll deposit it myself when I have time."
Fudge looked slightly disappointed.
The original plan had been simple.
Take Liam to Gringotts.
Build a relationship.
Recruit him for the Ministry.
Unfortunately, the boy had casually destroyed the first half of that strategy.
The Minister quickly adjusted.
"Actually, Liam..."
He smiled.
"When you were arrested, several Aurors were unable to stop you."
Delixy and Kingsley exchanged awkward looks.
That memory was still painful.
Fudge continued enthusiastically.
"To be honest, I think you're already qualified to become an Auror."
Liam stared.
"I can make an exception."
The Minister spread his arms dramatically.
"Join the Auror Office directly."
The invitation was completely sincere.
Despite Liam's age, Fudge genuinely believed he possessed the necessary ability.
After all, most eleven-year-olds couldn't defeat trained Ministry personnel.
Liam, however, had absolutely no interest.
"Sorry."
The answer came immediately.
"I don't want a job."
The twelve thousand Galleons hanging from his belt already represented enough money for a comfortable life.
Why would he work?
More importantly, Voldemort remained a problem.
Snape had already confirmed that the Dark Lord would return.
Liam was almost certain that when that happened, he would be first on Voldemort's kill list.
His priority wasn't employment.
His priority was discovering the secret of Voldemort's immortality before Voldemort returned.
Every moment mattered.
Working for the Ministry would only waste valuable research time.
"Right now, I simply want to focus on my studies at Hogwarts."
Fudge clicked his tongue regretfully.
He privately thought Liam was being somewhat ungrateful.
Fortunately, he was too politically savvy to show it.
In fact, much of the current situation had been arranged deliberately.
Officially, Dumbledore had captured Voldemort.
But if all the credit went to Dumbledore, the Headmaster's prestige would increase even further.
That wasn't good for the Minister of Magic.
So Fudge had chosen a different approach.
Instead of celebrating Dumbledore, he elevated Liam.
A nine-year-old hero posed no threat to his position.
If anything, overwhelming fame might ruin the boy.
Children who became famous often grew arrogant.
Lazy.
Complacent.
Easy to control.
That outcome suited Fudge perfectly.
Unfortunately, he had chosen the wrong child.
Liam had spent years being treated as property by Death Eaters.
He had endured humiliation, violence, and constant danger.
Compared to genuine power, public praise meant very little.
Fame belonged to other people.
Power belonged to oneself.
And anything dependent on other people could disappear overnight.
Liam might use his new reputation if it proved useful.
But he would never depend on it.
"Well."
Fudge forced another smile.
"At least consider the Ministry after graduation."
"Perhaps."
Liam gave a noncommittal answer.
Then he glanced toward the classroom.
"I should return to class."
"Liam."
A deep voice stopped him.
Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward.
Liam turned.
"Yes, Auror?"
Kingsley's expression was serious.
"Congratulations."
The words seemed genuine.
"You exposed Voldemort's conspiracy."
"You've earned your reputation."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"But remember something."
The atmosphere became noticeably heavier.
"If you ever use that fame to harm innocent people..."
"If you ever choose the wrong path..."
The Auror's voice hardened.
"I'll still be the man standing in front of you."
"And I'll still send you to Azkaban."
The warning wasn't hostile.
It was sincere.
Kingsley genuinely believed it needed to be said.
Liam considered the statement for several seconds.
Then nodded.
"Don't worry."
"I already understand the consequences of attacking Muggles without cause."
His tone remained calm.
"As long as they aren't threatening me, I won't use magic against them casually."
Kingsley's expression immediately became complicated.
That wasn't exactly the answer he wanted.
Most people would have promised never to attack Muggles.
Liam had promised something far narrower.
The implication was obvious.
If circumstances justified it, he would still use magic.
Kingsley wasn't entirely satisfied.
Still, compared to the boy who had once ended up in Azkaban, this was progress.
Perhaps.
"Take care of yourself."
The Auror finally stepped back.
Fudge immediately signaled the others.
"Let's go."
The Minister had no desire to spend additional time speaking with a child who seemed impossible to influence.
Besides, Liam would remain at Hogwarts for seven years.
Plenty of time.
The three visitors departed together.
Liam returned to Charms.
...
Lunch proved significantly more difficult.
The moment he entered the Great Hall, students swarmed him again.
This time, they weren't just first-years.
Older students had joined the frenzy.
Boys.
Girls.
Students from every House.
Some wanted autographs.
Others wanted stories.
A few wanted invitations to spend time together.
The entire experience was exhausting.
Cassandra quickly lost patience.
Every time she chased one group away, another appeared.
Eventually, she became so irritated that she abandoned lunch entirely and stormed back toward the Slytherin common room.
Liam continued eating in relative peace.
For approximately thirty seconds.
Then a large shadow fell across the table.
"Liam."
A group of older Slytherins approached.
At their head stood a broad, intimidating student with a square jaw and an expression that suggested violence solved most of his problems.
Marcus Flint.
Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team.
"Join us for Quidditch practice this afternoon."
Marcus crossed his arms confidently.
"The team would like to see what all the fuss is about."
Liam continued cutting his sausage.
"Sorry."
The answer was polite.
"I have plans."
Marcus's smile immediately stiffened.
The surrounding team members exchanged looks.
As Slytherin's Quidditch captain, Marcus enjoyed considerable popularity.
He wasn't accustomed to being rejected.
Especially not by first-years.
"Practice will be fun."
Marcus placed a heavy hand on Liam's shoulder.
His voice lowered.
"You should come."
The tone wasn't a suggestion anymore.
It sounded much closer to an order.
Liam slowly set down his fork.
Then he looked up.
"Are you telling me what I should do?"
The smile disappeared from Marcus's face.
"No."
His voice dripped with false friendliness.
"Just some advice from an older student."
"Interesting."
Liam stood.
The atmosphere around the table immediately shifted.
"Then let's skip the political nonsense."
His voice remained calm.
"I already told you no."
"I have things to do."
Marcus laughed.
A short, mocking sound.
"Things to do?"
The older student sneered.
"You got lucky."
Several team members chuckled.
"You happened to spot Voldemort."
"You happened to call Dumbledore."
His eyes narrowed.
"And now you think you're special."
The sneer grew wider.
"Maybe someone needs to remind you how the world works."
The Great Hall became noticeably quieter.
Nearby students began paying attention.
Liam stared at him.
Then sighed.
He had hoped to spend the afternoon researching forbidden curses.
Apparently that wasn't happening.
"Fine."
The chair scraped softly against the floor.
Liam reached into his sleeve.
A wand appeared.
His posture shifted instantly.
Elegant.
Controlled.
Perfect.
A traditional dueling salute.
"If the senior students wish to offer me guidance..."
His silver eyes met Marcus's.
"Then let's do it properly."
Across from him, Marcus Flint grinned and drew his own wand.
....
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