āWho knows?ā Donny and Caspar had been close for so long that it was sometimes easy to forget that they werenāt close anymore. They fell back into old patterns time and time again, the friendship that had kept Donny afloat for many years when he was under his parentsā thumb. The Selwyn family was not known for their kindness, and on top of that, Donnyās contrary nature made his parents even angrier. Heād had no choice but to leave, but leaving Caspar was one of his regrets. āIt feels like the point of this whole thing is just the mystery.ā
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With Donnyās response, Caspar had to catch himself. They often fell back into times like the ones when they were younger. Before the world became so much more complicated. It would be a lie to say that Caspar didnāt miss it; however, after his trip before Hogwarts, he had pushed everyone away - the world, if he could. And Donnyās choice to leave didnāt help either.Ā āLetās just hope itās a good one. Worth our time.ā Even if they had different views; different reasons for being there; they were still standing in the same line, werenāt they?
The worst had passed; Callidora was very carefully not thinking about how unsteady she still felt, how rattled. As an Unspeakable, investigating a magical oddity like this was directly within her line of work. She had requested some of her magical instruments be brought from her office to assist her, since her magic still felt shaky. A thought which pierced her to her core. This could never happen again. She could not allow it. She had to understand what had happened, and until she did, she would crush all her emotions - her fear, her insecurity - without remorse.Ā
A shadow fell across the path of her investigation, and she dropped her gaze from her magical telescope - created to identify traces of magic left behind by spells - to the intruder. Comforting to see him, in a way she would not admit to. āCaspar,ā she greeted,Ā āDonāt speak. Iām thinking.ā Callidora did not worry about giving offence - he was, after all these years theyād known each other, quite familiar with her blunt way when caught up in research. It was, in the end, what she always put first. Certainly, back when they had been friends in Hogwarts, sheād considered it more important than their friendship. Now, she supposed he was family, discordant as that thought still was to her, and ought to be placed higher up in her hierarchy.Ā
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The latest event to hit the Wizarding and Muggle world a like was traumatic, at best. That bloody rally was enough to leave Crouch rattled for years to come. Never in his life had he felt so defenseless...useless. It was not something he was accustomed to in his family - wanting for nothing, and being held in the highest regard. It left a rather sour taste in his mouth. Especially when he felt like he couldnāt protect Charis or Callidora, practically his family.
With that being said, Caspar was able to brush himself off and be professional in his work. He was a department head, after all. If he didnāt set an example, it was unlikely anyone else could. After a hard dayās work, he decided to check on a familiar face. Caspar made his way to the Blackās newest residence. At least there, he could see those he thought of as family, and ask if they had pieced together anything else from that horrid day. And, of course, Callidora was whom he saw first - investigating as usual. When she told him not to speak, Caspar suppressed a chuckle, watching her. It was fascinating, really - as it always had been to watch her and her studies growing up. And even without words, Casparās expression said everything as he grinned to her.
Athena hadnāt expected to see Caspar at the rally, though she supposed that he and Charis came as a set these days. It was a little sad to Athena, though that may have just been because she had always nursed a small crush on Charis. Not that she could tell anyone that, so instead, she put on a strong face and bore it, like she had gotten so used to taking care of her private heartaches over the years. Mainly, Caspar reminded her of her brother, which was the most distressing thing about talking to himābut still, she kept her face impassive and her feelings in check. She had to. So, when she saw him after the rally, she clenched her fists to keep the tremor out of her hands.Ā āAre you all right?ā she asked.Ā
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Well, well, well... Caspar thought to himself as he caught a glance at Athena. One of the various Purebloods that didnāt fight during the global wizarding war. Something that didnāt sit well with the Crouch family, but kept it hidden except within passive aggressive comments to other members in Pureblood society. Even so, Caspar never did anything to intentionally hurt Athena or the Lestrange family with that. Besides, there was another war brewing. Perhaps this time, those who hadnāt fought beforehand would change their mind. Seeing the fists clenched at her sides, it took all of Casparās energy not to arch a brow, but instead, flashed a charming grin,Ā āNever better, Athena. And how are you? Fighting forĀ āequalityā as well?ā
The sight of Caspar Crouch made Dorothyās stomach drop. Her eyes narrowed, and she had hoped the icy tone of her apology would make it clear that she was in no mood to interact with the man. Of course, theyād spent most of their time at school antagonizing one another. It didnāt surprise her to discover that not much had changed. He was still as arrogant as ever, unable - or unwilling - to pick up on the social cue sheād tried to shoot his way. She gripped her pen tightly, glancing up at him. She supposed sheād have to stay civil ā shooting a hex in his direction would definitely catch the eyes of the few Muggles milling about, not to mention the Aurors sheād seen. She didnāt want to get thrown out of the event before it started.
āI could ask you the same question, Crouch,ā she replied. Dorothy didnāt try to hide the distaste in her voice. At the very least, sheād always been clear on how she felt about him and his so-called ideals. The sight of him didnāt soothe any of her unease. āThis doesnāt seem like your cup of tea, and yetā¦here you are. A blood equality rally. Maybe youāve finally come to your senses.ā
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Caspar Crouch knew social cues well - but was equally as talented in ignoring them when his pompous attitude could be used in his favor. And with Dorothy, at least in school, it often did. The grip on her pen made his mouth quirk up into a sly smirk. She wouldnāt dare try something at an equality rally, would she? But then again, Caspar loved to antagonize and tread dangerous waters. It was a game to him - to see how far he could push another.
āWell,ā Caspar began, sitting down beside her and straightening out the long, dark blue coat of his wizard robes. It was obvious that he wasnāt wanted - and that made him all the more eager to see how his old schoolmate would react to him remaining calm,Ā āhave you ever thought that now that Iām a head of an entire Ministry Department, I need to represent all of those Purebloods and Halfbloods alike underneath me? Equal representation and empathy, Dorothy dear. Perhaps you should try it.ā A solid argument. Even if he didnāt believe it.
Charis had been lonely for the last four years. Of course she had her father, and on occasion Callidora and Cedrella would visit. It wasnāt like she hadnāt been used to it, during school she was always kept at arms length because of her familyās history. But then she met Caspar and her world changed, she finally felt like she mattered to somebody. Obviously she had mattered to Grindelwald in the way that she become so unhinged and so valuable so quickly. But she mattered to Caspar in a way where she knew that she had hurt him when she left. She had been carrying that pain with her for four very long years.
āYou had me worried for a while.ā Charis kept her eyes locked on his, trying to find anything that would give away the sick person who had used Caspar for their polyjuice potion. There was nothing as far as Charis could tellā and she was unsure whether that meant she was rusty or that she had just missed him more than anything. Charis wanted to flee this confining cottage so many times over the years, but she knew sheād get found out. At least now with Tom Riddleās offer to her and her father, she was protected.
Charis finally retracted her wand, dropping it in the trunk of the car alongside her suitcase before she wrapped her arms around Caspar for an embrace.Ā āInstinct or luck? You often stumble upon the latter, Caspar Crouch.ā Charis pulled back from him with a small smile on her face. She felt whole again. Not that she needed a man or anyone for that matter to make her feel complete, but Caspar was her person and she was his.
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āYou...worried?ā Caspar couldnāt help but tease ever so slightly. In the times they worked together, carrying out those dark deeds, Caspar would argue that he was the one that worried more. In an effort to prove himself, the pressure to be a perfect soldier and partner made his emotions reveal a little bit more on his sleeve than usual. At least in school, there was validation with marks from tests and approval from peers and professors. In the real world, in those dark times, all he had were his actions. And during those four years, all he wanted was to be at her side once more.
Luckily, the wait was over. Her arms wrapped around him, and Casparās frame enveloped her as he took Charis into his own arms. At least now, they could put the last four years aside and pick up where they left off.Ā āIs it such a crime to be blessed?ā he asked with a smirk, knowing how much he was well-off in his name and blood alone. Once she pulled back, Caspar looked her over, feeling overwhelmed with happiness; as if he were complete again.Ā āAlong my travels, I met someone of great interest. I came back with him and asked some of our loyal friends were you and your family could be. Luckily, it brought me here when I saw the flying car.ā
The idea of mixing Muggle and magical blood was repulsing, as Caspar looked around at all of the arena in disgust. He couldnāt fathom how so many of them were there in the name ofĀ āequalityā when, the truth was, none of them were. Whether it be by status, money, talent, blood...No one was equal. But he was here for the sake of his cause. And so, when the man of the hour finally made his appearance, Caspar sat up a little bit straighter - at attention, if you will. Who was the other side of this war that was brewing?
If anything was an indication that things were not as it seemed, it was that cat-like grin on the manās face. Cheshire incarnate. It put Caspar on edge, taking in his surroundings a little bit more - identifying familiar faces of those he knew in the crowd. However, his attention soon returned to their host as he gestured and the doors slammed shut. Narrowing his eyes, a fire grew in them as the touted of magic was dirty. Immediately, Caspar stood, wand pointed threateningly, until...
āWhat -Ā ā the draining of magic throughout the arena spread like wildfire. The dizziness hit him like a freight train, stumbling slightly, to the ground. Seeing their newfound enemy leaving them in a plume of smoke, trapped, Caspar pushed down the sick feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach,Ā āCoward.ā he said through gritted teeth. However, only one person was on his mind, beginning to look through the mass of people desperately,Ā āCharis!ā he called, staggering as he got up,Ā āCharis!ā Instinctually, he pointed his wand into the air, attempting to cast a spell, āPericulum!ā to no avail,Ā āCharis!ā Caspar yelled for the one he loved in agony, beginning to move through the sea of people - seeking her out.
Dorothy had set her alarm as early as she could bear Monday morning. Sheād already taken the day off work ā no Quidditch news is going to come in, Weston, you know as well as I ā and had packed her bag the night before. The last thing she wanted was to be bogged down by unnecessaries. A notebook, a quill, her wand, a bag of floo powder, a granola bar, her press badge. When she dressed, she did so without any of her usual prints or patterns, opting instead for a sleek, all-black look. She didnāt want to draw any attention to herself. No more than necessary, at least.
Sheād arrived at Diagon Alley about an hour before the event was set to start. She wasnāt the only one with the idea - there had been a few people milling about. Dorothy had tried to commit each face to memory, wondering if this witch or that wizard was the one responsible for organizing the event. The line had moved slowly, but eventually, Dorothy had been allowed inside. Sheād placed her jacket and bag on the seat next to her, hoping to reserve it for a friendly face. She slid her wand out of her bag, resting it in her lap. She covered it with her notebook and her transfigured quill-turned-ballpoint. She took in a deep breath, trying to sooth her frayed nerves ā but whatever peace sheād managed to create for herself quickly dissipated when a shadow loomed over her. She jumped, slightly, glancing up.
āSorry. You startled me.ā
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A call for unity; that all blood was equal. Caspar scoffed as he looked around in the crowd of the arena. Surely none of them thought that was true. He had only come to this damned event in hopes of retrieving information to his new master and his comrades. With that in mind, Caspar hid the disgust he felt in the pit of his stomach as he watched witches and wizards of all kinds come together. He had to put on a mask for the public. Caspar had worked far too long; too hard - tooth and nail - to climb to the position he found himself now in. An afternoon among filthy Haflbloods or less should be easy for him.
However, a certain familiar face caught Casparās eye. Dorothy, an old schoolmate - one that he had been at odds with numerous times during their years at Hogwarts. For many reasons. Including the fact the she wasnāt a Pureblood. But also because the lion and the snake were often at war anyway. Following her inside, Caspar decided to pay hisĀ āfriendā a visit. As he came closer, he didnāt miss her tansfiguring he quill and arched a brow,Ā āCouldnāt help but notice the notebook. Know something we donāt, Dorothy?ā
Donny was a frazzled mess that morning, and with the rally coming up so much quicker than he had anticipated, he hadnāt actually spent enough time preparing. It always felt like he was giving something up or letting something slip to the wayside in order to make everything fit in his day, but he supposed that was just what it was like having kids. Godric, was it terrible that he couldnāt wait for them to be off at Hogwarts? Regardless of his wishes towards his children, Donny knew he had to focus on the day at hand, and as he waited in line to get inside, he turned to the person in front of him.Ā āYou havenāt heard of anything happening in there yet, have you?āĀ
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Blood Equality for All! Caspar read on the flyers, nearly scoffing. Surely, these fools didnāt believe there was such a thing. There had to be order in the world; structure. And if that meant putting purer blood above the rest, well, Caspar wasnāt about to get in the way of that. Heād only made his way to the event as a means of retrieving information to his new leader. One, Caspar had hope and faith that it would turn a cause even greater than Grindelwaldās.
Standing in line, he felt a familiar presence near him, turning around towards a voice he knew all too well growing up. Adonis. Arching a brow, Caspar merely looked his old friend over,Ā āNothing more than the flyers so far. Perhaps theyāre amplifying the mystery of it all?ā
Itād been four years since the defeat of Grindelwald. Four years since Charis fled with her father to Berlin to escape going on trial for her crimes. Four years since she left Caspar abruptly, only telling him sheād find him again once it was safe. However, just weeks ago, her father urged her to return to London with himā optimistic that they had a new master to serve. Charis was anxious to meet him, even though she knew he wouldnāt compare to Grindelwald and the power he gave her. As she began to pack her things, Charis could only hope Caspar had gotten word of this Tom Riddle and decided to be as curious as she was.
Once her suitcase was packed, Charis took her fatherās and her own bags out to the flying car parked outside the cottage theyād been living in for the past four years. They didnāt dare to test staying in the city, fully aware that spies were likely still looking for them. As she packed their things into the trunk, Charis felt something looming over her in the dark. She quickly pulled her wand from her coat pocket as she turned, the tip of the wand stopping at a manās throat.
āYou found me.ā Charis breathed out in relief that it had been him. At least she hoped that it really was him, because she could have very well been dreaming.Ā āHow did you find me?ā Charisā wand remained at his throat, wanting to embrace him but she knew betterā this could all be a trick.
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Four years. Four years since the end of Grindlewaldās terror - as some wizardkind would call it. Four years since Charis and Caspar, so close to finally admitting their feelings for one another, were ripped apart and had to flee. All to protect their names and families. In truth, it had been agony for Caspar, missing his partner-in-crime every day of his travels across the world. However, after meeting Tom Riddle, there was hope for a cause once more. A reason to fight. And, surely, rumors of another master had spread to where the Black family was, deciding to follow this new leader. All the while, Caspar held onto a hope that heād see her, along with their former comrades, once more.
Once back in London, Caspar grasped onto that hope - deciding to do some digging. Of course, the Black family wouldnāt stay in the city, keeping a safe distance. It was only through a bit of bribing some of the other Ministry members that he found out they were living in a cottage far enough to keep them safe, while also intertwined with society. Heād almost given up on his search when he saw a flying car, and continued on - finding the home where it was parked. Then, Caspar saw her. Charis. As beautiful as ever. With a grin, Caspar steadied his nerves and excitement as he walked over to the car heād followed. However, there was a wand almost immediately at his neck.
āDid you ever doubt it?ā Caspar almost chuckled breathlessly, his eyes scanning Charis over. It was her. Really her. After all this time, they finally found their way back to one another. Although, Casparās eyes trailed to the wand still at his throat. As it pressed against him, Caspar paid no mind to it - not as long as she was there with him. A soft sigh escaped his lips as a corner curved upwards. Slowly, a hand reached up, gently placing his fingertips along the wand, sliding down towards her hand.Ā With a shrug, Caspar gave a vague answer, his thoughts focusing on the fact that Charis was finally standing there in front of him again,Ā āI...suppose you could call it instinct.āĀ
ā ( CASEY DEIDRICK, CIS MALE, HE/HIM) ā that over there would be ( CASPAR CROUCH ), the ( 33 ) year old ( PUREBLOOD ) who ( DID ) fight during the global wizarding war. they attended ( HOGWARTS ) and are a ( SLYTHERIN ) alum. which is fitting considering they are ( AMBITIOUS ), yet ( CUNNING ). they are a/an ( KNIGHT OF WALPURGIS ) and also work as a/an ( HEAD OF THE DEPT. OF MAGICAL ACCIDENTS & CATASTROPHES ). every time i see them, itās like ( PLAY WITH FIRE BY SAM TINNESZ [FT. YACHT MONEY] ) is playing in my head. ( blood-stained handkerchiefs, war stories told beside a bonfire, enchanted journals to hide their secrets, cigarette butts beside a coffee or whiskey in the morning to calm haunting memories ). ā
BIO:
(tw: violence, death, war, and emotional abuse)
Heir to a name that has lasted longer than many of the Sacred Twenty-Eight ā and ā much less tainted. The weight of such a name was quickly thrust onto the shoulders of Caspar Crouch (b. 1934). As a child, he did not understand, viewing life as optimistic and hopeful as any young boy would. His adolescence was filled with treasures, heirlooms, and all the spoils life had to offer. He was, in his eyes, untouchable. Which was why he acted out, craving attention and eager to work with magic; learn how to control the raw power he already possessed. Growing up on such a large estate, Caspar often created his own adventures with his younger brother and found he liked scavenger hunts especially. For a time, it was what any family would want. However, things would soon turn much darkerā¦
Bertrand Crouch was a cold man. His stature and demeanor often gave away just how harsh he could be. It was said, with hushed whispers behind the closed door of his parentsā room, that he went to school with Gellert Grindelwald. It brought out an untamable curiosity in young Caspar, but he knew better than to ask. When displeased, Bertrand would often take it out on his eldest son, growing a bitter feud between the two. Bertrand held their family name up to its highest regard to get exactly what he wanted, whenever he wanted. This was not only within his work at the Ministry, but Bertrand flaunted it as much as his last name in the Wizarding World. He held himself in high regard and made sure everyone knew it. Especially those part of the Pureblood society that came to their home to socialize and had to entertain. This obligation was often because of his wife: Jacqueline. She was almost the opposite of her husband. She was warm, funny, and kept her name to herself; however, she knew just how to manipulate peopleā¦make them tick. Jacqueline was born to the Laurent family ā a supposed descendant of the Lestrange family that moved from France to Austria, Hungary, and Romania. She seemed to be the only one who could comfort Bertrand, and even, on occasion, change his mind. Two vastly different characters, yet both could, equally, contain the young Caspar. Even when he acted out, they never needed to raise their voice. Their presence alone was enough to calm him; almost frighten him, with only a look as their weapon.
However, things quickly changed as Jacqueline couldnāt change Bertrandās mind on preparing Caspar for what was to come in the Wizarding World. Having, a very good, inside source at what was to pass, Bertrand knew he had to make his sons strong. He started with the eldest. It could be reasoned he did so out of fairness, but really, Bertrand wanted to tear any light and optimism Caspar ever hadā¦out. In his mind, it was the only way.
Before his Hogwarts letter was to come, and learn magic of all sorts, Caspar needed to know the ways of the world. Growing up the years that he did, in the Muggle world, war ragged on. Either from civil disputes or part of massive destruction (of seemingly) the globeā¦World War II. At the ripe age of ten, his father began showing him the horrors of war ā of wizards fighting in Muggle battles. Instilling further fear in his son, Bertrand took him to the home of a wizard who had fought in the war but lost too much to continue fighting. Using a pensive, Bertrand took the manās memories, showing his son what the man had during the conflict - the living Hell he had experienced; weapons; destructionā¦the pain, suffering, and deathā¦ To this day, those images haunt Casparās dreams; becoming never-ending nightmares. Although, that was only the beginning. Bertrand made sure Caspar was to hate Muggles and his heart blacken, harden, and seek revenge for such crimes ā often exposing the Wizarding World because of their careless actions and powerful weapons. In every way he could conjure up more hate and bias in the young boyās heart, Bertrand did.
Luckily, his mother had very different ways for Caspar to learn the ways of both the Muggle and Wizarding World. She believed in Pureblood society, to be sure; but, rather than violence, she believed in travel and adventure. There was something to be said for those with cunning ways, hiding and manipulating in the shadows, before they were on top of society. And to do such things, she believed Caspar had to know the people. Thus, packed their bags and got on a train. Soon, made their way through Europe as safely as they could. Caspar, tainted by his fatherās methods, was bitter and biased to most of the people (especially those with anything less than pure of blood) but saw the world with innocent eyes. In the back of his mind, he knew it needed to change, but how, he did not know just yet.
Having a keen interest in serpents and dragons in myth, Casparās mother indulged her sonās curiosity during their travels. Jacqueline sought her brother Rigel Laurent (a Dragonologist) in Romania to have Caspar learn and study as much as he could. Even if only for the rest of the summer. They met in Budapest, with the young boyās wide-eyes catching his uncleās. From there, an immediate bond was made. They stayed for a week in Hungary, with Rigel trying to make up for lost time with his nephew. Jacqueline was beyond proud, finally at ease with seeing her family again and her sonā¦smiling once more. She hoped their bond would allow Bertrand to understand and be able to stay a bit longer before they went back to the Crouch home (which was filled with much darker forces now more than ever). However, the start of a civil war set off in a blaze right before their very eyes. Had Jacqueline known, she would have never brought her son; never would have risked her own brotherās safety. Caspar watched in panic as his uncle Rigel was roughly taken away, having been an elite member of both Muggle (and unbeknownst to them) and Pureblood society. Jacqueline, ever so skilled in her magic, got them to safety with tears instantly in her eyes. When Caspar had asked what happened, not able to comprehend what he had just witnessed, she explained that those who took his uncle were known for their brutality in the Muggle world. Even if she were to go back, fight for him, it would only end in blood and exposure of their kind. Caspar was distraught - figuring his beloved uncle was dead at their hands.
Returning home with heavy heart, Caspar knew he had been changedā¦all before even being sorted into his Hogwarts house. The hole in his heart from the trauma forced Caspar to close off from his family for a long time. It tore his brother away from him and Caspar felt that he would never understand. However, this worked in his favor for his studies. The moment his first class at Hogwarts started, Caspar made sure he was the very best in his class ā competing with every chance he got. For now, it was his solemn duty to work his way up in Pureblood society and take out those who tainted the Wizarding World. Stained it with Muggle blood. As well as those who took his family away from him - wreaked havoc upon the world. He made high marks, boasted often about it, helped lead his house to victory through both the house cup and Quidditch, became a prefect, Head Boy, and so much more. All to learn as much as he could to, one day, destroy his enemies. This made his recruitment by Grindelwald and his team of acolytes by his sixth year easy, with his father leading them into their home, and his mother a most gracious host. And while a wave of fear immediately consumed Caspar, another tidal wave of admiration over-powered him. This was what heād been waiting for. A cause to join. A way to rid the world of a pestilence.
Towards the end of his 7th year at Hogwarts, Caspar fought alongside Grindelwald and his comrades in secret to preserve his name. However, this did not stain his reputation at the tail end of the war. Finding purpose and joy in destruction, he watched in glee as homes and castles burned ā turning to ashes and ruin. During this time, he found his partner in crime: Charis Black. Their relationship was not immediate. In fact, it was an unspoken bond and they stuck together through the seemingly endless battles ā fueling each otherās flames. Often, he was trying to prove himself to her - his love for her growing deeper as they continued to carry out those dark deeds. Fresh, determined, and talented, they were often the first ones sent out on raids and other missions to carry out Grindelwaldās dirty work. However, defeat was imminent for their leader. Luckily, Charis was able to get out before being put on trial. Caspar was smart enough to see what was coming and fled as well ā protecting his familyās name at all costs.
Caspar had made his way to Romania, working for the Magical Accidents and Catastrophes department for the Ministry. The Wizarding War and Muggle wars (accompanied by civil disobedience) had scarred the world greatly. Using that as a cover, his position in the Ministry of Magic became indispensable. Soon, no one was asking questions on his loyalty because he was protecting their kind. As well as this, Caspar found other family members on his motherās side that helped his name around other ministries. Including France as he began to travel more for his work. In those travels, whispers of another leader were beginning to echo those he had originally fought for. At one point, heād come across the man named Tom Riddle. They spoke at length of what their perfect version for the Wizarding World would look like. After a drink or two, Caspar shook the otherās handā¦becoming a Knight of Walpurgis. It then became his duty to recruit others while in his travels, and did so willinglyā¦and thrived. Along the way, he was even able to be with Charis again ā finding a way back to one another once more.
While the memories still add an ache to his blackened heart, Caspar manipulated and carefully calculated the desires of his comrades to get them to join. All the while, he had his fun with Muggles ā showing how they were the enemy to the new recruits. He used the tactics of those that took his uncle away from him; seeing the value in such forces, and even the importance of conscriptions in both of the Muggle world wars. He believed that all who participated in a group should fight for their cause. Thus, it was easy to find Pureblood supporters from all of Europe and started seeking even darker recruits such as: werewolves, giants, dementors, and the inferi. And, rather than owls, Caspar sent messages with ravens, having conjured magic to whisper his findings to Riddle; and him alone. Caspar made himself indispensable. With ease, Caspar found his way through the Ministry (even though his familyās fortune could take care of them) as the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. There, Caspar, often with a prideful smirk on his features, manages many Obliviator forces to take care of the Muggles messes left from the World War II to keep the Wizarding World hidden from prying eyes. As well as this, Caspar uses the title for power, ability to travel and recruit, and maybe even torture some Muggles in the process.
