Chapter 36
After dinner, Hermione and I settled into a table at the back, closer to the window and out of earshot. The spacious common room was almost deserted; most of the older students were away on detention, but I decided to be on the safe side and pulled out of my bag the small black pyramid Walter had given me before leaving. This artifact activated by swiping a finger along its side, creating a powerful interference field with a simple distraction within a three-meter radius. Basically, we couldn’t be overheard from a distance, and those uninterested in us wouldn’t even notice us. Of course, there’s a whole range of special privacy charms, and Mione and I even know a couple of them, but they only work every two or three times for us… So we use a stationary equivalent.
I glanced around again. The common room was quiet, cozy, and serene: someone was peacefully reading by the fireplace, a few second-years were playing Gobstones, and a couple of third-year girls were quietly but energetically scribbling something on a large sheet of parchment. And this beauty, according to Filch, will last until Halloween. That’s until the end of October, when two-thirds of the Lions students, half of the Ravens and Badgers, and even a third of the Snakes have been entrusted to his care. Detentions here are a kind of service to the castle, so when a student falls into the caretaker’s hands, they are obliged to obey him under two conditions: that the detention doesn’t violate the student contract and that it benefits the school. Filch said to work without magic, and Hogwarts itself won’t let him disobey! No one really understands how it works, but it does.
The retired officer showed military ingenuity in his punishment plan: Slytherins and Gryffindors washed the toilets by hand, without magic. Given the feud between the houses, guess what floor the snakes are on now and how deep in the dungeons the lions are? Today after dinner, I heard a mulatto woman, Johnson I think, bragging to her friends about having covered the walls of the girls’ restroom near our common room in shit. She said it was to get the Slytherin sluts used to manual labor. I wonder how the snakes will respond? I’ll have to ask Lavender later; our blonde has already started mending fences with the older girls. The crows are mostly nerds and scrawny, so Filch made them carry boxes and bags of groceries from Hogsmeade to the Hogwarts kitchen storage. The Ravenclaws are, of course, quietly howling under the strain, but maybe they’ll at least gain some muscle. And for the badgers, Comrade Argus devised the most inhumane punishment: the Huffles copied the personal files of 12th-century students who had misbehaved. Word for word. In Old English. In the movies, students polished their trophies in the awards hall; the movie Filch had no imagination, unlike ours.
“Ria, are you there?” Hermione’s voice distracted me from my malicious thoughts, and Flora, who had flown off her shoulder, tugged at my ear with a disgruntled squeak.
“Sorry, Mia, I was lost in thought.” I looked into my friend’s serious chocolate eyes. “Ask away, although I can guess what you want to talk about. I’ll tell you right away, I’m absolutely certain that James Potter is my father. You yourself remember my appearance before the ritual very well; I was almost a spitting image of my brother, only with the difference in gender.”
“I never doubted it.” Mione bit her lip and looked me up and down. “Look, you said that during the ritual you decided to get rid of Potter’s blood and replace it with Lady Integra’s, right?”
“Right…” I froze for a moment, staring in shock at my pensive friend. Fuck! After the ritual, I didn’t even think about it; events were racing ahead: restoring my physical condition and body reactions, the reception with the Queen, Dumbledore, Diagon Alley… And no one canceled my studies and training.
“Genetically and logically, you now have two parents: Lady Integra and Lily Evans, correct?” I could only nod like a bobblehead, and Hermione continued. “You got your height, your figure, some of your facial features, and the platinum streaks in your hair from the Hellsings, but your eyes and other unchanged features, it turns out, are from Evans. Rhea, what do you know about Lily?”
– Almost nothing. There’s very little information, and I wasn’t particularly interested in her past. Quentin Evans grew up in an orphanage, and after serving in the army, he married Patricia Miller. Then they had two daughters, Lily and Pet… Horse…
I couldn’t pronounce that creature’s name, and my hands involuntarily clenched into fists. I hate it… How I hate it… Hermione smiled tenderly and took my hand, offering her support. I let go a little, and I continued:
“Quentin and Patricia died in a car accident in 1978, a couple of months before Lily’s graduation.” I shrugged involuntarily. “There’s no other information on them, but I’ll call Mom today, maybe she’ll find out anything.”
“So your grandfather grew up in an orphanage and knew nothing about his relatives.” Hermione wrote something down in her notebook and looked at me. “But he could be a Black. He was born a Squib and they got rid of him so as not to shame the family. What do you think of that theory?”
“It could very well be, but there’s no one to ask anymore, and it doesn’t matter anyway.” My voice didn’t waver. “I’m a Hellsing by blood and spirit, and I don’t care about the rest!”
“Yes, of course, I never doubted it. Although…” Granger smiled slyly. “You could be Bellatrix’s illegitimate daughter, kidnapped by gypsies one night and placed in Potter’s crib, where he bit you and that’s why you looked like him. And James and Lily decided to raise you both. Well, or they weren’t good at math.”
“The worst thing is that wizards might believe this nonsense.” I couldn’t help but laugh quietly.
At that moment, a thoughtful Justin approached us with some kind of large, thick magazine in his hands.
“Girls, can I talk to you?” We nodded, and the guy carefully sat down between us. “So, here’s the deal. Today, Weasley showed me some Quidditch magazines and explained the rules as best he could. Afterwards, we went to Madam Pince’s and decided to find out about Andromeda Black: who this dark witch is, and how she heals people…
Finch-Fletchley opened a magazine titled “Witchcraft and Paracelsus’s Advice,” quickly flipped through almost halfway, and placed it on the table. The entire page was taken up by a witchcraft photo of a beautiful woman in a lime-green robe, with a mane of chestnut curls and a sweet smile. But damn, she looked just like me and Bella. Change the hairstyle and hair color, and no dog would be able to tell the difference. My ears and chin are different, of course, and my hair is straight and not curly like hers, but it’s impossible not to notice our resemblance.
“It’s none of my business, of course, but you look a lot like her.” Justin looked at me carefully. “Not knowing Lady Hellsing, I would even guess that she’s your mother or aunt. Rigel, is your father by any chance a Black?”
“Justin, I’m absolutely certain my father isn’t a Black, despite the unfortunate resemblance.” “I’m not ready to talk about my biological parents yet.” “The Hellsings interbred with the Blacks a couple of centuries ago, perhaps an ancient legacy has emerged. And my father’s name is a family secret, if you’ll excuse me.”
“I don’t really care, just get ready, rumors will start to spread soon.” Jas grinned. “Weasley saw this photo and decided you were Andromeda’s daughter, kidnapped as a baby by the treacherous Hellsings to extort ransom from the evil and dark wizards, who refused to pay, so Lady Integra had to raise you as her own. Anyway, I barely convinced him with a story about how, before the Statute, the Hellsings had many intermarriages.”
– Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. – I nodded gratefully to the guy and glanced sideways at the magazine. – Can I read it?
“Tomorrow, I’m only halfway through.” Justin put the reading material back in his bag. “I’ll go to my dorm while Potter’s in detention, at least I can read in peace. Have you done your homework yet? Potions is first thing tomorrow, then Defense of the Ancients.”
– Right! Homework! – Hermione quickly rummaged through her bag for writing materials, and Finch-Fletchley quietly bowed out.
***
“Rigel, don’t worry, we’ll figure everything out.” Mom smiled warmly. “You’re my daughter, and I don’t care about the rest.”
– I know, it’s just very unexpected. – I yawned sleepily. – Okay, I’m going to bed. Love you, Mom. See you tomorrow.
“I love you too. Goodnight.” Mom hung up, and I put the Miracle Phone under my pillow.
Feeling movement in my legs, I threw back the blanket as usual—Vasya had crawled in for the night. It’s an interesting situation with him: Elvira is openly afraid of him, while Lavender and Parvati simply ignore him, as if we didn’t have a meter-long snake living in the room with us. Flora, however, has become everyone’s favorite; Brown even offered to set up a special corner for her; now our fairy house sits on a shelf by the window. We even got a small plate for sweets.
– How are you today? Didn’t you get bored? – I stroke the cool scales as usual.
“No, I was exploring a new nest. ” The snake rubbed its snout against my hand. ” This place is awesome, there’s plenty of space, even more power around, the prey is fat and lazy, I like it.”
– Great, now let’s go to bed. – I still don’t understand whether I said that last sentence or thought it.
***
The day began as usual: warm-ups, exercises, and a hot shower upon returning to the common room. After quickly drying myself with a spell and putting on my school uniform (don’t forget the bulletproof vest and harness with the machine gun), I headed to the common room to wait for Hermione on the couch. Today, she decided to tidy up her unruly hair herself.
On the stairs I bumped into some senior student, this lanky woman grimaced in disgust and pushed me in the shoulder.
“Watch where you’re going, you jerk! This isn’t London!” The bastard grinned slyly and reached for her wand holster hanging from her belt.
– What did you call me? – I bared my teeth predatorily and looked closely at the senior student.
Tall, with long, wheat-colored hair pulled back into a tight braid. Half-breed or from a young pure-blood family: the robe is clearly inexpensive, and there are no family symbols, no protective amulets or rings in sight.
“I said you’re a nobody.” The girl placed her palm on her holster.
“Do you realize you’ve just insulted the heir to the Hellsing family?” Adrenaline surged, and perception began to accelerate. “You can’t show weakness, or they’ll devour you.”
“Pfft… If you don’t like something, then challenge me to a duel!” The tall woman looked me over theatrically from head to toe. “I’ll happily cripple you on the platform. Sure, you can complain to your mother, but your damned family has no power in the magical world.”
“Stupefy!” I instantly pointed my wand at the bastard’s chest, putting almost my entire reserve into the spell, sending the lanky, insane woman flying for a short time.
The girl was thrown a couple of meters down the stairs, landing flat on the soft carpet. She was a tough bastard, she didn’t even lose consciousness. She started to get up, groaning, but I was already skipping down the stairs, needing to consolidate my success. The boorish woman had almost stood up and was looking around the living room in confusion when I ran up behind her and kicked her in the knee, knocking her flat on her back, then kicked her in the stomach, then followed with more.
– Nobody! – A kick in the stomach.
– Never! – I kick him in the chest.
“Don’t insult my family!” I kick her hard in the face. The insolent fool threw her head back and went quiet, apparently finally losing consciousness.
“Hellsing!” I turned toward the voice. A third-year mulatto girl called out to me, with two more girls standing behind her, all holding wands. “The rules say we don’t bother first-years, but if the little ones start getting insolent, we put them in their place.”
“Are you threatening me?” I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head to the side. “That cow pushed me and insulted me. I’m within my rights! She insulted the Hellsing family and challenged a first-year to a duel, an act worthy of a true Gryffindor.”
“It’s not for you to judge.” The mulatto pointed her wand at me. “And if you dare to pick on one of the elders again…”
“Then what?” The gun instantly appeared in my hand, pointed straight at the pale face of the third-year girl, whose friends simultaneously took a step back. “Point that wand at me again, and I’ll shoot you in the knees. The bullets are enchanted, so it’ll be a very long and painful healing.”
“You’re asking for it, Hellsing.” The mulatto slowly lowered her wand. “You’re alone here, your mommy and a bunch of soldiers aren’t around…”
“But I’m always here!” Hermione stood menacingly behind the third-years, holding the brazen trio at gunpoint. “Touch my friend, and I’ll kill you.”
I felt the girls’ fear with empathy; they huddled together and began slowly retreating toward the wall. But my friend could really throw the entire magazine at them, I could see it in her eyes.
“What’s going on here?!” I turned around and saw an angry McGonagall standing in the doorway. And half the students of the faculty, watching our squabble with interest. Of course, no one thought to intervene; the faculty of the brave and courageous, yeah, right.
The Dean of the House quickly approached the unconscious senior and rolled her onto her back. I punched the brat in the face, breaking his nose, and a hefty red puddle formed on the carpet. McGonagall waved her wand, clearing away the blood, and then revived the girl herself.
“Miss Garcia, what happened?” The dean turned to the victim, who looked at the angry dean, then at me with a pistol in my hand and at Hermione with a machine gun, and then at the third-year girls huddled against the wall.
“Professor, I tripped and fell down the stairs.” Garcia looked at the dean with the most honest eyes.
“Be more careful in the future.” McGonagall immediately lost all interest in the girl and stared at me demandingly. “Miss Hellsing, hand over that gun immediately! Students are forbidden from possessing firearms, especially enchanted ones!”
“No, I need the gun for self-defense, like any other weapon.” I watched with considerable pleasure as the dean gasped in indignation. The mangy cat had gotten used to students always obeying her. “Besides, I have official permission.”
I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a parchment with the Hogwarts crest, permitting students to carry firearms. Just in case, I added permission for a musket and a gunpowder crossbow. There was also a permit for an arquebus somewhere, but that was unnecessary.
– But these forms were signed by Armando Dippet! – McGonagall glared at me.
“What difference does it make? My name is mine, the Hogwarts Headmaster’s signature is in there, the castle accepted the form.” I shrugged. “All the formalities have been observed; Granger and I have every right to keep an entire arsenal on us without breaking a single school rule.”
With that, I pulled the entire, sizable stack of forms from my bag, to which the Dean sighed heavily and, handing them back to me, silently left the common room. Almost the entire faculty stared at Hermione and me, so I pulled out an AK-80US with an underbarrel grenade launcher from my bag and ostentatiously reloaded it, then leisurely put the monster back in my bag.
“Okay, enough crowding, time for breakfast! First years, follow me!” Percy Weasley broke the silence, and we headed off to eat, under the sidelong glances of the older students.
After breakfast, we headed to class in tense silence. Our first lesson was Potions, where we brewed a cure for boils again. This time, the lesson was quiet and calm. No one exploded or melted anything, only Potter lost ten points. The Prince decided to conduct a quiz and bombarded our star with questions.
Our next class was Defense of the Ancients. Quirrel quickly took roll call, collected the homework, and began the lecture with a smile.
“Children, today we will learn and practice a very important and useful spell.” The professor looked around at the silent students. “The spell to summon the Aurors. In case of danger, call the Aurors immediately! If you’re lucky, these brave fighters against the darkness will be able to help you, but if not, which is most likely… Don’t worry, the honest and incorruptible staff of the DMP will find and punish your killer. So, remember the gesture…”
We spent the next half hour learning a simple spell, which turned out to be slightly more difficult than Lumos. Meanwhile, the professor spoke of Aurors with such skepticism and ridicule that even the most obtuse realized that summoning them was useless; we had to fight back on our own.
“Now that everyone has learned and remembered this extremely important and useful spell,” Quirrel chuckled contentedly, “we will record the history of the emergence and duties of this valiant and incorruptible division of the Ministry of Magic!”
The professor’s words are teeming with skepticism and irony. As far as I know, the Auror Office is more of a mercenary outfit than a law enforcement agency, and corruption and nepotism are rampant. During the last civil war, they discredited themselves so much by their inaction that they still haven’t been able to clean up their act. The Auror Office only really began to function when Crouch Sr. took over, purging its staff, granting its members virtually unlimited powers, and authorizing them to use unforgivable acts. But the Death Eaters began to retaliate in kind, which, coupled with the dismissal of the most brazen and corrupt law enforcement officers, led to a tragic outcome: within a year, the number of law enforcement officers was cut almost in half.
It was then that the poor training and almost complete lack of equipment of law enforcement officers became apparent. It turns out that one year of training for new recruits is insufficient, and in addition to the scarlet robe, protective amulets and healing potions would have been preferable. When Mrozota died, Crouch Sr. attempted to reform the unit entrusted to him, but he was restricted. He was only able to secure an improvement in the training program for trainees; training now lasts three years, and veterans with actual combat experience have been appointed as mentors, so the Aurors now have at least some training. The Ministry no longer wants to throw snot-nosed brats to the slaughter, and the Auror Office is still understaffed. According to the U.I.S.E. (Imperial Unity and Security Authority), the total strength of the force is less than three hundred! And that’s for all of Magical Britain! Of course, there’s the D.I.M., but they’re essentially investigators, with only a couple of battle stars under Augusta Longbottom’s command.
“The Auror Office in Wizarding Britain was founded in 1733 by Eldritch Diggory, then Minister of Magic.” I was interrupted by the professor, who began his lecture with enthusiasm. “The original mission of this unit of combat wizards was to track down and eliminate insane Dark wizards whose actions threatened the Statute of Secrecy. Back then, the selection criteria were very high; they recruited only…”
The lecture was a great success; we listened with interest and took notes on the professor’s words. I repeat, Quirrel is an excellent teacher, even if he has some connections to the Scum.
After a hearty and filling lunch, we headed to Charms. During class, Flitwick began teaching the children about magic control, so Hermione and I sat bored again, like almost all purebloods. But there’s a curriculum, and there’s no way to get around it, even though the little professor explained everything so enthusiastically that we listened with interest.
After class, we went to the library again. I hadn’t managed to clarify an important point yesterday, and Hermione was interested in Andromeda Black. Justin never let us read that medical journal, so we headed back to the periodicals section.
I found the information I needed in the Daily Prophet of November 3, 1981, with the screaming headline:
The traitor has been caught!
A large photograph depicted a plump boy with wheat-colored hair. His face and clothes were bloodied, and he himself, shackled, knelt. Behind him, in flowing black robes, stood Sirius Black, head held high, accompanied by five wizards in dark blue battle robes. The article recounted the heartbreaking tale of the betrayal of a best friend who had been entrusted with the secret of the Fidelius. Pettigrew practically led the evil villain by the hand into the home of the bright and noble Potter, then cowardly fled, but the noble Black apprehended the traitor in the port of Glasgow. A lengthy description of the epic battle between a beaver and a donkey was given, after which, at the cost of considerable effort, Black and a dozen mercenaries subdued the vile traitor and delivered him to the Ministry of Magic. The trial took place that same day, and Peter Pettigrew was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss, with Dumbledore himself insisting on the sentence!
“Alas, the boy betrayed those closest to him, his soul forever plunged into the abyss of Darkness. It’s hard for me to admit it, but this once-kind boy will never again accept the Light into his heart,” Dumbledore said, calling for a Dementor.
Peter was executed right there in the courtroom. What did this boy know that he was so quickly eliminated? Black and Dumbledore both insisted on his execution, and Crouch Sr. was happy to sentence the former Death Eater. Alas, he won’t tell anyone anything now.
– Riya! I found it! – I looked at Hermione and smiled, my friend was almost invisible behind the stacks of newspapers. And when did you manage to do that?
Andromeda Black’s biography turned out to be quite interesting and scandalous. Immediately after graduating, in the midst of the Civil War, she married the Muggle-born Ted Tonks. The Black family demonstratively disowned their wayward daughter and kicked her out of the house, although Andromeda already had her own small, cozy house on Flower Lane, in the prestigious area near Diagon Alley. A month after the scandal, the exiled Black found a job at St. Mungo’s as deputy head physician of the Dark Healers’ department.
And in November 1981, a week after the death of the Blackguard, Ted Tonks was found dead in a doorway in Knockturn Alley, bearing signs of extensive torture. After burying her husband, Andromeda picked up her daughter Nymphadora and went to bow to her parents. They demonstratively wagged their finger at their wayward daughter and solemnly welcomed her back into the family, as if to say, “We Blacks don’t abandon each other.” And in January 1982, Salvador Burke, the head of the Black Healing Department, died of choking on a grape seed, and Andromeda took his place.
This intelligent and beautiful woman still works there today, holds several master’s degrees, and also writes articles for scientific and medical journals. In short, Andromeda Black is an exemplary pure-blood witch from an ancient and noble family.
“Am I the only one who finds Ted Tonks’ death strange?” I turned to Hermione.
“Nope…” Mia bit her lip. “Ted worked as an orderly at St. Mungo’s, what was he doing in a crime-ridden area? And there’s nothing to take from him, he’s a Muggle-born, so the salary is peanuts!”
“The more newspapers I read, the more questions I have.” I glanced at the clock face. “We still have an hour, let’s do our homework.”
“Agreed,” Hermione nodded in response. “And after dinner, let’s grab Finch-Flatley and go find an empty classroom. We need a place to practice and practice fencing.”
***
The next few days flew by quickly and rather quietly. Hermione and I weren’t bullied anymore; we spent our evenings exploring the castle, then doing homework in the common room or chatting with Ron and Justin. Weasley slowly began to integrate into our group, already calling Finch-Fletchley a friend. We’ll see how he behaves; he seems like a smart guy.
The classes were interesting but monotonous. The only standout was astronomy, which was on Thursday, yesterday. At midnight, we trudged up to the astronomy tower to write a lecture standing up on the importance and usefulness of the subject. We didn’t even unpack our telescopes the entire class. The same could have been done during the day, but it wasn’t as engaging. Although I liked the professor herself, Aurora Sinistra turned out to be a young and very beautiful blonde woman with full lips and thick eyelashes. Nature hadn’t shortchanged her figure either; her C- or D-cup breasts were perfectly accentuated by her fitted, bright yellow robe. The professor gave a rather engaging and detailed presentation; it was clear she truly loved her subject.
We only found a suitable abandoned classroom on Friday, as everything near the common room had long since been occupied, so we had to expand our search to other floors. We found an empty room on the fifth floor, a ten-minute walk from the common room, so it was manageable. The room turned out to be quite large and high-ceilinged, like a small gymnasium, and the only furniture was a few chairs and one dusty, but intact, desk. With our wands out, the three of us spent an hour cleaning our operational base and began thinking about protecting it from prying eyes.
“I suggest we apply rune chains to the door and the frame around it,” Hermione said, pointing towards the entrance.
“I agree, there’s no problem with the paint; I have a large supply of blood-forming potion.” I nodded, and Justin shuddered. “Well, yes, we’ll be applying the runes with blood and silver powder; when mixed, it makes an excellent magically conductive ink.”
“Have you thought of security chains yet?” the guy still looked at us with interest. “And we still need to figure out the furniture issue.”
“First, we’ll take the ready-made rune chains from Black’s textbooks, then we’ll add our own ideas.” I tapped my school bag. “Furniture is no problem; I have plenty in my suitcase. Once we’re done with the protection, I’ll drag it here and get everything we need.”
“Damn, magic never ceases to amaze me!” Justin raised his hands dramatically to the sky. “Every day I’m more and more amazed at how I ever got by without it.”
“Stop being surprised, time to go to the living room.” I pointedly looked at my watch. “Lights out in half an hour, and even though tomorrow is a day off, no one canceled the jogging.”
“But first, we’ll finally get to test your miracle map!” Hermione’s eyes lit up with anticipation. “We’ve been trying to find the time and place for a whole week, it’s taking too long!”
– Exactly! Justin, just don’t be too surprised. – With these words, I took an old parchment from my bag, unfolded it on the table and pointed my wand at it. – What was it? I solemnly swear that I am planning a prank, and nothing but a prank!
After the password was spoken, a detailed map of the castle began to appear on the parchment, including various secret passages, and even a small section of Hogsmeade appeared. It took us about ten minutes to figure out the navigation; unfortunately, there’s no zoom feature, and some passages are barely visible. The three of us leaned over the map, watching the moving dots labeled with the names of students and teachers. This map is truly amazing. For example, Quirrel is currently strolling down the second-floor corridor, Dumbledore is sitting in his office, and Hagrid is doing something in the forbidden corridor on the third floor. By the way, I should at least take a look at it.
– Holy shit! This is so cool! It’s like a CCTV system, even better! – Justin stared at the Marauder’s Map in admiration, – Whoever made this was a genius!
“I wonder if the headmaster has one like this or better?” Hermione looked thoughtfully at the three dots with our names. “It turns out that Dumbledore always knows where the students are and what they’re doing.”
“Just don’t interfere. Judging by what’s going on at school, our headmaster has long since given up on everything.” I held my wand to the map. “The prank was a success! We’ve checked the map, and now let’s go to the common room, I really do want to sleep.”
We quickly gathered our things and headed to Gryffindor Tower. Tomorrow is the first day off, but there’s still a lot to do.
***
Headmaster Dumbledore sat in his office, sipping a cup of aromatic tea as he studied yet another piece of bureaucratic nonsense. Specifically, a new law standardizing ladles for pouring and stirring potions. The esteemed members of the Wizengamot proposed mandating a standard ladle for every standard cauldron. Using a non-standard ladle while brewing a potion in a standard cauldron, or using a standard #3 ladle in a #2 cauldron, would be punishable by fines. Repeated violations and the frequent use of non-standard ladles in standard cauldrons would be punishable by up to a year in Azkaban.
“What nonsense! Does anyone have too much free time to invent?” Albus leaned back in his throne-like chair and tiredly massaged his temples, then turned to the phoenix dozing peacefully on its perch. “Fawkes, can you imagine, the neutrals are pushing this idiotic law out of boredom. Half the Wizengamot has already approved it; these… alternatively gifted ones seriously want to create a department to standardize potion ladles! Let’s standardize chamber pots too, and the process itself!”
At that moment, an alarm went off in the office, alerting the director that an intruder had accessed the surveillance systems. The signal was coming from an abandoned classroom on the fifth floor, occupied by three interesting and promising first-year students. The old man frowned for a moment, then mentally restored restricted access for the observer’s artifact, disguised as an old and homemade one.
“It’ll be even more interesting this way, clever girl. I wonder how she found out about the map?” The Headmaster smiled into his beard and waved his wand, and a golden, translucent phoenix appeared in the air before him. “Mr. Filch, please come to my office. I need to take care of a few household matters.”
Having received the message, the phoenix flapped its wings and flew through the wall, and Dumbledore waited. Soon he would learn the answers to a couple of interesting questions.
***
It turns out that weekend breakfasts are more varied than weekdays. So, well-fed, we went to the living room to get tools and books to begin preparing our base of operations. Hermione and I quickly gathered everything we needed and settled comfortably on the sofa by the window. Justin, as always, took a long time getting ready. Is it just me, or should it be the other way around? Don’t boys usually wait for girls? I pulled out a book on ancient runes and began to study it with interest, but was distracted by Percy Weasley, who cleared his throat, drawing our attention.
“Hellsing, the director is calling you.” The headman pointed towards the exit from the common room.
– Why? – I stared at the guy in confusion.
“Are you asking me?” Weasley feigned surprise. “Remember what you’ve managed to do. And come on, I’ll walk you home, you’ll find out everything in the Headmaster’s office.”
Author’s note: More chapters are available on AuthorToday and FicBook. Unfortunately, LitNet prohibits links to third-party resources. My work is easily found in search results.
