Order Restored
Master Jacob and Apprentice Harry exited the office, their plan for Wenley's punishment settled, but the courtyard was already filled with chaos. A commotion erupted near the center, drawing the attention of both men as laborers hurriedly backed away, forming a tight circle around two figures struggling on the ground.
Jacob's eyes narrowed as he recognized Ron and Wenley locked in a heated brawl. Wenley was on his back, his face flushed with anger, while Ron stood over him, his foot planted firmly on Wenley's stomach, pinning him to the ground.
"I know it was you, Weasley!" Wenley spat, his voice a mixture of fear and fury. "Since you got here, you've been nothing but trouble!"
Ron's face was twisted in anger, his jaw clenched as he pressed his weight onto Wenley. "Shut it, Wenley. You don't know what you're talking about."
Jacob's fists clenched as he prepared to intervene, but before he could, Harry moved with unexpected quickness. He had noticed something—a small piece of fabric slipping from Ron's pocket as he shifted his weight.
Without a word, Harry strode forward, reaching into Ron's pocket and pulling out a scrap of cloth. The fabric was dark, finely woven—the exact material used for overseers' uniforms. Harry's face hardened, his eyes turning thunderous as he held the cloth up for all to see.
Ron's expression shifted from anger to sudden panic, and he lunged for the cloth, his hand reaching desperately. "Harry, wait—"
But Harry was faster. He stepped back, keeping the cloth just out of reach, his gaze fixed coldly on Ron. In one swift motion, he raised his hand and struck Ron across the face, the slap resounding through the courtyard. Ron stumbled back, his hand flying to his cheek, a look of shock and hurt crossing his face as he fell to the ground.
Jacob stepped forward, the truth sinking in as he looked down at Ron with a mixture of disappointment and anger. But before he could speak, Harry turned to the crowd, his voice ringing with authority.
"Ty!" Harry called out sharply.
Ty emerged from the crowd, his face a mixture of confusion and wariness. He bowed deeply before Harry, his voice respectful. "Yes, Apprentice Master?"
Harry's gaze didn't waver as he pointed down at Ron, who was still on the ground, clutching his cheek and glaring up at Harry with a mixture of defiance and fear.
"This one," Harry said, his voice hard, "is responsible for destroying your uniform. As overseer, what punishment do you think he deserves?"
Ty's eyes widened briefly, clearly caught off guard by the question. He glanced down at Ron, who glared back at him, before he took a deep breath, steadying himself. He straightened, his face growing serious as he spoke.
"Master Harry," Ty began, his tone respectful but resolute, "Ron has shown a lack of discipline. He... he needs to be taught a lesson in obedience." Ty hesitated, but then his voice steadied, stronger. "I recommend he be sent to The Shell."
A murmur rippled through the laborers at the mention of The Shell. It was the place where the most defiant servants were sent, where discipline was reinforced through brutal, unrelenting training.
Harry nodded, a flicker of approval in his gaze. "I agree. Ron has earned himself a place in The Shell. Guards!"
At Harry's command, two hulking guards stepped forward, each one grabbing one of Ron's arms. Ron began to struggle, panic replacing the anger in his face as he twisted in their grasp.
"Harry—please!" Ron's voice was desperate now, fear overtaking the defiance in his eyes. "You can't do this!"
But Harry's face remained impassive, his gaze cold and unyielding. "You brought this on yourself, Ron. Actions have consequences, and here, we learn discipline."
The guards dragged Ron away, his pleas and shouts fading as they led him toward The Shell, his voice breaking into panicked yells, "Harry! Please—don't do this! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"
The courtyard fell silent as Ron's cries faded into the distance, every laborer watching with a mixture of awe and fear. Jacob allowed the silence to linger, letting the weight of the moment settle over them.
Finally, he turned to the assembled laborers, his gaze steely and unyielding. "Let this serve as a warning to all of you," he said, his voice low and cold. "Disobedience, sabotage, rebellion—none of it will be tolerated in The House. If any of you forget your place, you will face the consequences. Just like Weasley."
The laborers nodded, each one visibly tense, their faces pale as they looked down, unwilling to meet Jacob's gaze.
With a slight bow, Jacob turned to Harry, his voice measured and respectful. "Thank you for your assistance, Apprentice Master. Your judgment has restored order."
Harry gave a curt nod, his face still unreadable, then turned and left the courtyard without a word, disappearing into the hallways of The House.
Jacob turned back to the laborers, his voice sharp as he issued the final command. "Enough of this. Get back to work."
With renewed obedience, the laborers dispersed, each one returning to their tasks with fresh focus, the memory of Ron's punishment fresh in their minds. As Jacob watched them work, he felt a grim satisfaction settle over him. Order had been restored, and The House's authority reaffirmed.