Chapter 43
A small group gathered for breakfast: Hermione and I, her parents with little Hector, Mum, and the vampires, still catching up on sleep after a sleepless night. This time, the threat had passed, war had been averted, and so the mood in the dining room was a little uneasy. My friend and I were still reeling from yesterday; that nightmare still seemed so vivid to me. Looking at the worried faces of the elder Grangers, I realized they weren’t eager to let their daughter go back, but today or tomorrow we would have to return to Hogwarts anyway. Judging by the fact that the fighters had returned to the estate, the Order and the wizards had reached an agreement. The question was – about what? I have a feeling the population of Wizarding Britain had dwindled somewhat last night. But who would report the details of the special operation to the children? And I should have thought about safety, as I remember the green flash that flew a couple of centimeters from Hermione, my heart skips a beat.
“Maistress, maybe we should just forget about him? Let’s stay in the nest? ” Vasya stuck his face out from under his clothes and looked at me pitifully.
Things didn’t go well with the familiar. An assassination attempt, then an emergency evacuation to the estate… Anyway, I remembered about the snake back in my room, but I couldn’t go back, could I? So I acted like a smart girl and turned to my elders, or more precisely, to my ancient and all-powerful uncle. I called out to Alucard in the void, and he appeared from a dark corner, the old pervert. I hope he’s not spying on me while I wash or sit on the white throne?
I quickly explained my problem to the vampire, to which he chuckled and disappeared. He returned literally a couple of minutes later, handing me a shaking and, it seemed to me, pale snake. Vasya immediately wrapped his arm in a death grip, and the immortal uncle vanished into thin air, giving me a final flash of his glasses and a sly grin. Since last night, the snake had simply not left my side.
– We have to, Vasya. You understand, we have to! – I looked at the snake king with a smile.
– Fuck! Fucked up bipeds… – The snake grumbled discontentedly in response and hid back.
After breakfast, Dan went to work, and my friend, her mother, little brother and I moved into my room, where we spent the whole day happily and interestingly.
We told Jean about Hogwarts, our successes, and watched with amusement as little Hector tried to catch Flora or played with Vasya. Surprisingly, the magical familiars welcomed the child warmly and enjoyed spending time in his company. The little one was already running well and chatting in his gibberish; he called me Rya and his friend Gemi—such a cutie. I hope everything works out with the stone. My hand involuntarily touched the scar below my navel.
Mom and the vampires didn’t show up until dinner, looking contented and rested. I have a nagging suspicion about their rest, but that’s none of my business. When the main course was finished and it was time for dessert, Mom looked up from her pudding and gave my friend and me a stern look. I didn’t like that look, and my butt started itching.
“Rigel, Hermione, I’ll expect you in my office right after dinner.” We shuddered under her commanding gaze. “We need to have a serious talk, and then you’ll have some disciplinary action.”
– Integra, is this necessary? – Jean looked at her daughter pitifully.
– Of course! – Mom finished her tea in one gulp and left the dining room.
***
– Ow! Careful! More gently, damn it!
– Yes, I’m trying, don’t move. There, it’s done! Now it’s your turn.
– You look quite good, now you’ve shown your true colors! – A childish, mocking laugh is heard.
– Come on, faster, my ass is on fire! Ow!
My friend and I were smearing each other with healing ointment, generously dispensed by Walter. But he made us so happy this morning, just before we left for Hogwarts! We slept on our stomachs all night! And all because of our stupidity.
When Hermione and I entered Mom’s office, I immediately noticed the birch rods and a bucket of salt water, as well as the wooden bench in the middle of the room. Walter stood behind Lady Hellsing, looking at us sympathetically. Mom asked a question that stunned us for several minutes. It was quite simple: why the hell didn’t we use the emergency Portkeys right away and start shooting back?
Mom gave us a half-hour lecture about how engaging an invisible enemy while Avads are flying at you is the height of stupidity and idiocy. Each of us could have instantly teleported to a safe place and not risked our lives!
Honestly, at that moment I simply forgot about the locket around my neck. What was that Quirrell saying? Muggle thinking, that hit the nail on the head. Mom spent half an hour explaining to us that we were still children, and in case of danger, we were obligated to run, not try to defeat the villain. At the end of the lecture, Integra sighed heavily and pointed to the bench.
After receiving a fair share of disciplinary beatings, Hermione and I hugged and headed to my room. The punishment was well-deserved, but still a little offensive.
Having finished the treatment, we quickly changed into clean, ironed school uniforms and went down to the hall, where Mom was already waiting for us with the butler. She looked us over with a smile and handed us two black bracelets.
– Put them on immediately, your grandfather sent them this morning. – Mom turned to me.
– What is this? – I turned the next piece of jewelry over in my hands with interest.
“This is a modified Sneakoscope. It will heat up if someone nearby decides to harm you.” The woman looked me seriously in the eyes. “The higher the temperature, the greater the danger! Rigel, if it starts burning your hand, activate the Portkey without hesitation!”
“Okay, Mom, I promise.” I put the bracelet on my left hand; it immediately pricked me and shrank in size, and then became completely invisible.
“We need to hurry, the Finch-Fletchleys will meet us at the station.” Mom looked at her watch. “From the station, you’ll Floo to the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore will be waiting.”
A moment later, I stood, fighting dizziness, in Albus Dumbledore’s domain. I immediately took a step to the side, and Hermione emerged from the green flames, followed by Justin, who lost his balance and fell on his backside. The old man rose from his desk and approached us with a sad smile.
“Miss Hellsing, Miss Granger, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, I am glad to see you back.” Dumbledore stroked his beard and continued. “First of all, I want to ask your forgiveness. That terrible incident was entirely my fault. As Headmaster, I failed to protect my students, and I have no excuse. Forgive me.”
The old man bowed his head sadly, then lightly brushed the soot off us with his palm. After all, wandless magic is an art form and a testament to the wizard’s power, and the old man was very powerful.
– Accepted. – I answered for everyone.
– Director, tell me, have the culprits been found? – Finch-Fletchley asked.
I was also curious. No matter how many times I asked my mother or Victoria, they both remained silent, saying only that the matter had been settled and the culprits had been punished. To all my protests, they smiled and replied that I was still a child and it was too early for me to know such details. Oh well, I’ll grow up soon and plan and direct various operations myself. If I live that long, of course.
“Unfortunately, yes. The Rowley family decided to take revenge on Lady Hellsing for past grievances. To do this, they decided to kill you.” The old man looked at me thoughtfully and shook his head. “It pains me to say this, but your mother overdid it in her intimidation campaign. Rage and malice clouded her judgment, and as a result, innocent children died. One girl was only six, and the other only turned twelve in August. The Rowley family no longer exists.
– H-how? – Hermione stared at the headmaster.
“All I know is that there was an attack on the Rowley estate last night, killing everyone, including a little innocent girl. Six-year-old Dorothy was definitely not involved in the attack.” Dumbledore sighed heavily. “And this morning, Ludwig took his grandchildren out of school. I was against it, but who’s going to listen to a cranky old man? I don’t feel sorry for Milton; he was the one who cast the Imperio Curse on the student who attacked you, but even he deserved a second chance. But second-year Theresa was caught up in adult games and died. It’s good that her death was quick and painless—they were barely in the school when they were shot.
– This… This… – I didn’t know what to say, this is just f*cked up!
“I’m glad you have compassion and regret the death of innocents,” the director nodded. “So don’t be surprised if many students now avoid you. Unfortunately, it will be more difficult for you to make new friends, but I hope you will overcome these difficulties together. I won’t keep you any longer; you still have time for breakfast.”
The hint was extremely clear, and our thoughtful trio left the director’s office.
– What an old goat! – I kicked the knight’s armor standing in the niche in a fit of rage.
“Riya, but the director is right, you can’t kill innocent children!” My friend stood in front of me and looked me in the eyes.
“I agree, but how did he present the information? The bearded bitch! My mother is an evil maniac, and these bastards are innocent martyrs!” I put my hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Remember Avada, who flew past you by a centimeter. This is their doing! An innocent boy died because of these pureblood bastards!”
– But the murder of children… – He speaks less confidently.
– And who are we? – I look my friend straight in the eyes. – Mia, we’re still kids ourselves! And they wanted to kill us! And all because I’m a Hellsing, and you’re my friend, my only one, by the way! Do you need to remind me how my family deals with enemies? We read the family chronicles together!
“Hellsing is the Crown’s avenging sword!” Her friend paused for a moment. “Protestant knights have stood guard over the Empire for centuries, and by Her Majesty’s command, they will kill anyone who poses a threat to the country. And Hellsing’s enemies don’t live long. But still… Killing little children…”
– I agree. – I hugged my sobbing friend, my heart aching.
Now it’s clear why Mom and Victoria didn’t tell us the details of the night’s operation, or rather, the intimidation campaign… Although what kind of campaign was that? It was a real massacre. It’s one thing to read about events that happened centuries ago, and quite another to have innocent people killed on your mother’s orders. In my head, I knew the Order had done the right thing; the girls could have grown up and sought revenge, but in my heart…
“We need to learn and become stronger.” We looked at Justin, the boy confirmed that he was being listened to, and continued. “When we grow up, we will have power and resources, we will be able to change this world, or at least try. So that in the future our soldiers will not have to kill innocent children! And to do that, we need to learn, because knowledge is power.”
“I agree.” Mia nodded sadly. “I hope I never have to… I just can’t…”
“I hope so too.” I took my friend by the elbow, and we silently headed to the living room. We had a lot to think about.
Could I kill an innocent child? I remembered little Hector; just last night I was cradling that fidget in my arms. Absolutely not! I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. Adult or teenager – fine, gender doesn’t matter, but an innocent child… Okay, war is fine, death is everywhere, and a large-caliber shell doesn’t care who it blows to pieces, but to deliberately order the liquidation of a little girl… I hope my heart doesn’t become so hardened. I dream of having a child myself; you could say it’s my life’s purpose! I remembered something, and my hands went cold…
An oath! An oath of allegiance to the Crown! If Her Majesty commands, I will be obliged to carry out Her will. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; the Queen doesn’t look like a bloodthirsty psychopath. Although Chikatilo was also said to be quiet, calm, and polite, no one could have imagined him to be a maniac with fifty-five victims to his credit.
Just yesterday I wanted to become an adult as soon as possible, but I take that back! I’m still a child and will enjoy this carefree time.
***
The reception we received at the faculty was, to put it mildly, cool; the students either averted their eyes or looked at us with disapproval. I understand that it’s wrong to kill small children, but the Rowleys are to blame! We didn’t kill those girls! It was the Order’s soldiers, who were carrying out the Crown’s orders! We ourselves miraculously survived!
But the students didn’t care. The whole day was spent in whispers behind my back and disapproving glances. Even from the teachers! Where were you bitches when we were dodging Avad?! Hypocritical society! At lunch, I overheard the quiet conversation of the older students; those idiots were seriously discussing how I was the daughter of He-whose-name-they-piss-to-mention! Cowardly idiots! I immediately thought of the second movie, where the whole school thought Potter was a descendant of Slytherin and feared the second-year!
“Hypocritical degenerates!” I slammed the door to our base of operations and set my pink suitcase on the floor.
“And the Maker be with them. Forget it.” Justin leaned against the wall. “They’ll talk about it for a bit and then forget about it. Besides, Halloween is next week, and then comes the first Hogsmeade trip, and then Quidditch starts. I’m not making excuses for Lady Integra, but now wizards will think ten times before they start plotting against us.”
– Enough chatter! Riya, get out the targets! I want to calm my nerves! – My friend is shaking with anger. – I’ll just picture some stupid red-haired face.
I opened my suitcase and, with a wave of my wand, quickly retrieved the mannequins and some furniture, then thought back to the morning. While my classmates had been worried and inquiring about our well-being, and Lavender, her eyes shining, had demanded to know the real story, Ron had surprised me. Weasley had ignored Hermione and me all day, and when I approached him at lunch, he’d pointedly moved his seat. He’d even muttered that the Order of Protestant Knights was worse than the Death Eaters; at least they didn’t kill children. I was so taken aback by his words that I didn’t even break his face. The red-haired bastard!
“Oh, come on. Ron’s a normal guy, he’s just an idiot.” Justin held up his hands in a placating gesture. “How do you know what his older brothers said to him? Girls, don’t forget: we were the ones who had tutors, taught rhetoric, psychology, and so much more. We’ve known since childhood that power isn’t just privileges, it also comes with a ton of responsibilities! And Weasley is a kid who grew up in the countryside, where the only entertainment is Wizarding Radio and old Quidditch magazines. He didn’t even go to school, hence his limited outlook and narrow-mindedness. Ron speaks first and thinks later. I’m sure he’ll come and apologize in a week.
“Let’s see how he behaves.” I never looked at Ron from that perspective. We saw murders and maniacs on TV every day, but this guy saw a dead girl for the first time in his life. And it was Hellsing’s people who killed her. It really does feel awful. I secured the last target. “Done.”
“Finally.” Hermione reached into her bag and started pulling something out. “The bastard’s heavy.”
Justin and I raised our eyebrows. Mia, groaning, pulled a 12.7mm Kalashnikov machine gun out of her bag! The thing was almost as tall as she was! Hermione happily propped the monster on its bipod, pulled a belt from the box, and started loading it. “I want one of those!” Hermione pulled the bolt back with effort and broke into a happy smile.
“Valera, your time has come!” Mia gently patted the machine gun’s receiver cover. Due to the abundance of runes and symbols, I didn’t immediately notice the red inscription on the side of this monster—a name. And judging by the handwriting, it was Victoria who named it that.
– Where did you get it? – I came closer and began to examine the new toy.
“Victoria gave it to me! She said it was from her personal collection!” The curly-haired Rambo fan proudly raised her nose to the ceiling. “It’s all pumped up! A box of five hundred rounds! These are just regular ones, but I have a whole belt of enchanted ones in my bag! There are armor-piercing rounds, incendiary rounds, and ones with liquid silver! Only the heavy ones…”
“Yeah, right, by the time you get it out, they’ll already be dead!” I scratched the back of my head. “The thing is powerful, sure, but it’s useless for us for now.”
“So I have room for growth! Or what if we have to set up an ambush?” Mia’s eyes lit up with the flame of holy jihad. “And it even has a telescopic sight! And if we mount the machine gun on top of the astronomy tower…”
“Don’t you have a mortar?” Our argument was interrupted by Justin, who was thoughtfully fiddling with his pistol. “Oh, okay, let’s shoot. Maybe I’ll start hitting some targets…”
***
October 31st arrived, and the week before Halloween flew by. Hogwarts students continued to avoid us like lepers, and our only social circle consisted of our roommates and, oddly enough, Malfoy and Greengrass. Of course, it wasn’t quite social, but we still exchanged a few words before each class, unlike the Weasleys. The red-haired idiot seemed to realize his folly and looked at me like a beaten dog, but his pride prevented him from coming up and apologizing. He continued to hang out with Justin, however, and every evening the boys played chess while the girls and I leafed through magazines or told Elvira about magic.
The classes were also quite interesting; the professors began to give more material and tell us useful and interesting things.
In Transfiguration, we started turning beetles into buttons. Some might say it’s idiotic, but it’s not. A match into a needle, a beetle into a button—that’s how we increase the complexity of material transformation using simple examples, and that’s a good thing. The formulas are standard and easily adaptable to other objects, but I tried to be creative, just like Hermione.
In herbology, Professor Sprout entrusted us with the care of an African flycatcher, and when this thing grows up, you could call it a human trap. A true anthropophagus, the mature plant reaches three meters in height and feeds on anything that gets close, or that doesn’t have time to escape. Yeah, this thing can catch you and eat you! The professor spoke affectionately about its unique root system: if the plant doesn’t have enough moisture, or the soil is too poor, it searches for a more suitable spot. That’s why the seedlings are caged; it turns out the little ones love to frolic, and catching them all over the greenhouse is quite a chore. We quickly recorded and sketched the new plant, then donned chainmail gloves—the flower could have bitten off your fingers by now—and went to feed them. And what does the little plant eat, hidden in a cage? That’s right, live mice. It was a little disgusting, but interesting. But with each passing year, the “flowers” will become more and more dangerous.
During Potions, the Prince insulted everyone as well, but pointedly ignored Mia and me. The Professor flew around the room like a hawk, and we began brewing a forgetfulness potion, a sort of Obliviate. One sip, and you forget the last hour of your life for 24 hours, and there’s also a modification with a permanent effect. It’s nasty stuff, like any potion that affects the mind, but like most of its kind, it’s completely legal.
In Defense of the Ancients, we gave the professor a test on slugs, giant snails often kept as pets. The creatures are fairly harmless, so basic tickling charms were used against them, and during practical training, we tickled each other with Rectusempra. It’s a fairly simple but useful spell. It’s even used in duels; it’s quite effective at breaking concentration.
In History of Magic, we went about our business to the droning of a ghost, and in Flying, we finished our tests and… That’s it. If you want to fly, buy a broom or join the Quidditch team. In Astronomy, the students started drawing star atlases, which was also quite interesting. And in Charms, we finally finished practicing control and flexibility, so the professor promised that we’d start casting spells on Samhain.
I went down to breakfast with a bad feeling: a troll was supposed to show up today, the very event that set off the whole chain of troubles in the film. And given the differences between this world and the one depicted in the films, I’m afraid to even imagine what kind of creature will be wandering the halls. It’s decided, I’ll keep an eye on Hermione and Justin, no more tears in the toilet!
Approaching the Great Hall, I grimaced – pumpkin, I can’t stand that orange plant. Taking our seats at the table, my friend and I began choosing pumpkin-free dishes, found oatmeal and… and… That’s it! Even the sausages had orange flecks, and the bacon turned out to be fried in pumpkin sauce. I think Dumbledore is making fun of us! My lamentations were interrupted by a heavy package that plopped right in the center of my plate, splattering everyone around with oatmeal.
– Woland! You feathered creature! – Everyone around shuddered, and I glared angrily at the insolent raven who had brought the package for our girl. – What are you doing?
– Kaaar! – The feathered one began to meticulously examine the dishes on the table.
“Mistress, there’s nothing to eat here. ” Vasya looked at my plate with disgust and then turned his gaze to the raven. ” Let’s eat this black chicken!”
After returning to school, the snake followed me everywhere, citing the fact that the castle had gotten cold, and I didn’t mind. The familiar somehow slyly wrapped itself around my torso so I barely noticed it. And it behaved much more decently; it didn’t lie as often.
“What are you looking at me like that for? It’s Halloween, so help yourself to some pumpkin sausages.” I smiled at the cheeky bird.
“Kharrr!” The huge raven shook its head, then hit my plate with its beak and took off. The bird did a lap of honor and flew out the window.
– Well… I’ll definitely pluck them during the holidays. – I looked sadly at the two porcelain halves that had been my plate just five minutes ago.
“Oh, come on, Woland’s so sweet.” Hermione had already cleared the porridge from us and fixed my plate with one wave of her wand. The girl pointed to the parcel. “What’s in there?”
“Guess in three tries. Tests from the high school, what else?” I opened the package and was a little surprised – on top lay a fresh copy of the Times. Under the press were three sets of school assignments, strange. I unfolded the newspaper, and my eyes widened. The headline read:
Evans’ Law in action!
I quickly read the article and stared into space with a stupid smile. The article stated that a few months after the terrible tragedy that occurred in 1986 in the small town of Little Whinging (that’s when the Dursleys crossed the line and I killed everyone), Baroness Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing pushed a bill through the House of Lords to reform the guardianship system. Since the Empire is vast and spans several continents, the bureaucratic machine is quite sluggish. As my tutor told me, in Britain, it takes an average of five years to review and pass any law, and it’s pure hell. And then, six months ago, the Empire passed a law named after me!
All guardianship and shelter staff were audited by a specially created prosecutor’s office. During this stage alone, nearly a thousand violations were identified, including cases of embezzlement and misappropriation of budget funds, and nearly a hundred criminal cases were opened. The Imperial Prosecutor’s Office itself was surprised by these results and, together with the police, began mass inspections of shelters and foster families.
This is where the new law really shined! Firstly, the inspection team had to consist of a child psychologist, a doctor, and two police officers, and secondly, they all had to be from a different district or city to rule out any possibility of corruption. And this is where the government was in for a complete screw-up…
In some orphanages, children were forced into prostitution or rented out to pedophiles, in others, orphans were systematically beaten or starved, and when it came to foster families…
Over the past six months, the prosecutor’s office has opened 340 criminal cases and identified 605 administrative violations. Four orphanages were disbanded! For various reasons, 67 children were removed from foster families and placed in reorganized orphanages. The police also distinguished themselves; during investigations, 19 people were shot dead on the spot for resisting arrest.
Almost 70% of orphans have been checked so far, and the prosecutor’s office promises to complete everything by Christmas, so that every child in the British Empire can celebrate the holiday well-fed, warm, and safe!
Riya, my beloved daughter. Your sacrifice was not in vain.
You have helped hundreds, maybe even thousands
The note was written in strict, calligraphic handwriting and tucked into the second page of the newspaper. Thank you, Mom, it really was worth it… I quickly blinked, a speck of dust got into my eye, and put the note in my breast pocket. Later, I will personally thank this strong and determined woman for such good news. And I don’t care that a couple of children were recently killed on her orders; she is my mother, and I sincerely love and respect her. Thanks to her, a law was passed that will save hundreds, maybe thousands of children’s lives. Thank you, Mom. With a silly smile, I handed the newspaper to my curious friend.
The school day flew by rather quickly; the professors weren’t particularly strict in honor of the holiday. And before lunch, there was a charms lesson, during which Flitwick taught us the Levitation Charm.
As soon as we took our seats, the little professor waved his magic wand. Twenty feathers fluttered from his desk and landed gently in front of each student.
“Okay, guys, it’s time for the real magic!” The half-goblin beamed with satisfaction and anticipation. “Remember the gesture carefully and repeat: Wingardium Leviosa!”
We took the sticks and pointed them at the feathers!
“Don’t forget what I taught you—the wrist movements are light and smooth! One, two! Pay attention! One, two!” The professor purposely climbed onto a makeshift podium made from a stack of books and continued the visual demonstration. “And try to pronounce the magic words more accurately. Remember the wizard Baruffio, who once accidentally pronounced ‘ES’ instead of ‘EF’ and ended up being crushed by a buffalo whose hoof crushed his chest!”
My friend and I got it right on our first try; we’d long since learned the spell, as had all the Slytherins. Finnigan, who burned his first two quills, and Smith had some trouble, but she quickly overcame her hesitation, and by the tenth try, her quill was fluttering merrily around the classroom. The professor awarded her ten points for her excellent execution of the first spell. I’d long ago noticed that Flitwick rewards and rewards students who are lagging behind or lacking confidence. Hermione and I couldn’t care less about the points—our house was still deeply in the red anyway—but Elvira beamed with happiness.
– Come on! Come on! Stupid piece of wood! – From the next desk I heard Weasley’s angry cry. – Wingardium Leviosa!
Ron executed the gesture perfectly and pronounced the words correctly, but his wand… That piece of wood was only good for lighting a fireplace. The new Marauders noticed the ginger’s misfortune and began laughingly teasing him. Justin tried to calm his hot-tempered friend, but he was alone, and there were four of them, and their jokes were damn offensive.
The professor noticed that Weasley was the only one struggling and quickly walked toward him. The boy was already flushed with anger and waving his wand like a windmill.
“Mr. Weasley! Pull yourself together immediately!” Flitwick appeared next to the redhead’s desk. This had the effect of a cold shower on Ron, and he looked closely at the professor. “Have you calmed down? Excellent! Show me a perfect execution of the spell!”
Weasley accurately repeated the gesture and recited the verbal component of the spell, but nothing happened—the quill didn’t budge. The professor frowned and asked him to repeat it. Naturally, nothing happened again, and the boy’s spirits sank.
“Mr. Weasley, may I examine your wand?” Ron sheepishly handed over his concentrator to the serious professor. The half-goblin carefully turned the piece over and frowned as he handed it back. “Mr. Weasley, firstly, your wand is damaged, and secondly, it doesn’t suit you at all! You need to see Ollivander immediately, I’ll write a letter to your parents today! This is unthinkable. What are Arthur and Molly thinking?!”
“But they have no time! They’re making another Weasley!” Potter’s sarcastic voice came from the next desk.
– And while Arthur’s at work, Molly decided to earn some extra money! – And that’s Zabini’s nasty voice.
A roar of laughter erupted in the classroom, including the new Marauders and some of the Slytherins. I glanced at Ron, who was flushed red, clenched his fists, and staring blankly into space. Maybe I should talk to my brother again? Or maybe not. The redhead sent me packing, so let him deal with it himself!
“SILENCE!” The little professor seemed to have raised his voice with a spell and barked at the entire classroom. In the ensuing silence, Flitwick glared at the jokers. “Mr. Potter, I knew Lily Evans well; your behavior is a disgrace to her good name. Mr. Zabini, your dear mother, it seems, is getting married for the ninth time? Do you even remember the names of all your stepfathers and the candidates for this position?”
My brother shut up, the gypsy boy blushed sharply, and the professor sighed sadly and headed to his desk. All traces of the former merriment in the classroom vanished. As soon as the bell rang for the end of class, Weasley practically ran toward the common room.
I was already afraid Ron would end up like Hermione, but at dinner he was sitting with the twins, chatting cheerfully. That meant someone was keeping an eye on the redhead, so immediately after dinner the three of us headed to the library. In the quiet abode of knowledge, we leisurely completed all our homework and even found time for some “light reading.” I stalled for time as best I could, but Madam Pince practically kicked us out for dinner.
And the professors did a great job, they decorated the big room beautifully! The windows were covered in cobwebs, giant spiders crawled along the walls, huge glowing pumpkins hovered above the desks, and animated skeletons danced a waltz right near the ceiling, with the castle ghosts floating between them. You don’t see them often anymore; after the first of September, not a single blob of ectoplasm even came close to the Gryffindor table, and Peeves generally avoided first-years.
I looked around the pumpkin-covered mess with a sour expression—pardon the variety—and reached into my bag for an officer’s IRP (individual army ration pack), got a nudge from my friend, and pulled out two. Just in case, I glanced around the table; everything seemed to be in place: my roommates were sitting across from me, and three redheads were visible in the distance. Potter and company were there too, sitting there, throwing pumpkin pudding.
She glanced at the staff table, and everyone was there: Dumbledore was chatting with Flitwick, the Prince was glaring at everyone with his usual hateful gaze, and McGonagall and Sprout were laughing at Quirrel’s joke. Maybe it would work out?
Mia was calmly devouring stew straight from the can, and I was leisurely chewing a biscuit spread with apple jam when Filch appeared in the Great Hall. The retired officer looked very serious, clutching a shotgun. As he walked briskly past us, I caught the fresh scent of gunpowder. The caretaker quickly appeared at the Headmaster’s side and whispered something to him, after which Dumbledore rose from his throne, and the gates to the Hall slammed shut.
– Everyone, attention! Students, a moment’s attention! – The room fell silent, everyone stared at the headmaster. – A mountain troll has been discovered in the dungeons. Don’t worry, the deans and I will immediately capture the textbook and return it to its cage! Here, under the protection of the teachers, you are completely safe! Therefore, I ask everyone to remain seated and enjoy the celebratory dinner. Prefects, count your students immediately and report the names of those absent!
At least he didn’t send us to the common rooms like in the movie… The gates were closed, and the room was full of grown wizards, so the steady hubbub of conversation reigned in the hall once again. While the prefects counted us, I watched the staff table, where Flitwick, Prince, Sprout, and Quirrell had left—all the wizards had exited through an inconspicuous door in a small alcove.
– Finch-Fletchy! Justin! – Percy ran up to us, panic blazing in his eyes. – Have you seen Ron?
– What do you mean? – I looked at the far edge of the table and saw only two tousled red heads.
I turned my head around, and my gaze stopped on Dumbledore, who suddenly froze and turned pale, and then extended his hand and disappeared in a flash of fire…
