Chapter 45
Albus Dumbledore checked all the wards on the Quidditch pitch once more and nodded to Rolanda—it was time to begin—after which he took his place in the teachers’ stand. Madam Hooch blew her silver whistle with all her might and rose into the air—the game had begun.
The Quaffle fell into the hands of the Hufflepuff Chasers, and they, dodging Bludgers, raced toward the Ravenclaw goal. But the Ravens cleverly intercepted the ball and began a complex play, during which a burly fifth-year Badger Beater brazenly charged in. His Bludger hit the Ravenclaw Chaser, nearly knocking him off his broom. A second Bludger followed; his equipment saved the player from broken bones, but cracked ribs were certain. The Ravenclaw attack faltered. While the Botanists were regaining their composure, the Workhorses intercepted the Quaffle and, with a swift dash, opened the scoring.
The director glanced again at the referee of today’s match; at least she was sober today. For ten years in the past, Rolanda Hooch had been the best Chaser for the Stonehaven Magpies, winning the Wizarding British Championship three times. But that wasn’t enough for Rolanda, and she decided to become the best player in Wizarding Britain. The Wizarding World, like the Muggle world, also has its own drug testing system. Before matches, all professional players are tested for potions and artifacts, and body modifications are also prohibited. However, some particularly f… ing-obsessed wizards begin to experiment on themselves, a little, so that they can’t be proven. Some find magical tattoo artists to improve their strength and endurance, some use rituals, not always holy and permitted, and some resort to chimerology…
So Rolanda Hooch decided to experiment. Back then, the young witch was aiming for the Seeker position and wanted to acquire eagle eyesight, but she turned out to be a chicken. Did she really think the referees wouldn’t notice her bright yellow eyes with their vertical pupils? Back then, Muggles hadn’t yet invented contact lenses, and the referees dispelled her well-crafted illusion right on the pitch. The result: for a serious rule violation, the girl was banned from playing professional Quidditch for life. Dippet took pity on the young, alcoholic fool and hired her as a broomstick instructor.
The whistle blew and the game stopped. A Hufflepuff Beater had hit a Ravenclaw goalkeeper square in the face with a Bludger, a flagrant foul. The silver-haired witch swooped in and called a penalty. For a moment, the Headmaster marveled. People like her would say they were born with a broomstick in their hands, if not for their youthful foolishness… Albus wondered if she’d even had her liver modified. Surely a mere person couldn’t drown their sorrows in alcohol every night for so many years and still look perfectly fine the next morning!
Dumbledore mentally checked all the wards again and carefully surveyed the stands. There had been enough incidents this year. One half-blood had died, and a pure-blood student had almost died, especially the son of his loyal comrades! Tom had done a good job, had been creative. Trolls are very slow and unable to follow complex commands, so the Gaunt bastard simply killed the creature and raised the Inferi. Then he calmly enjoyed his celebratory dinner while his puppet moved along its assigned route. Albus had barely made it in time; it’s a shame the boy was left crippled.
The director still shudders at the memory of what happened next: an enraged Molly tried to strangle him and screamed at the entire hospital. The wizard didn’t resist, merely magically augmenting his body and allowing the unfortunate woman to vent. He later explained everything to her, promising to help and provide every possible support to the Weasley family. Treatment and prosthetics were also at Dumbledore’s expense, as well as a small financial compensation, and the woman reluctantly agreed to hush up the matter.
The next day, a whole delegation arrived at Hogwarts, but the old man had not held the post of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot for so many years for nothing; he was already prepared for anything:
– Where did the troll come from?
“It’s in the Defense of the Ancients curriculum, and there’s an enchanted cage, too. Here’s all the documentation for the beast and the cage. The cage, by the way, is standardized; it was standardized two years ago, and here are the standards for the lock and bolt. The bedding is also standard, as is the feeding trough; here are the documents. Everything is certified by the Ministry of Magic.”
– How did the animal get out?
“Someone opened a standard cell with a standard spell. Here’s a list of standard spells. Most likely, one of the students decided to play a prank, unfortunately, without success. Remember back to your school days; I can remind you of a lot, my boys and girls.”
– Where is the carcass?
– So, when saving the student, he miscalculated his strength and completely destroyed the dangerous creature.
– What’s in the forbidden corridor?
“There’s an obstacle course for the graduating students, and there’s a curriculum, approved by Professor Quirrell, the Ministry of Magic, and me. Do you have one yet? Take the second one, pay attention to the seals.”
– We want to see for ourselves.
– Of course! Come on, I’ll show you everything.
– Why such protection at the entrance?
– It’s designed for graduates, so that no one can enter without professors and ahead of time. You know how restless our students are.
– There’s a Cerberus!
– Of course! Here are the dog’s documents: this one is from the kennel, this one is from the Ministry, and this is the Magizoologist’s report; the animal is vaccinated and trained. And here’s another syllabus for the final exams, take it, it’ll be the fourth one; they complement each other. And there’s a stamp: approved by the Ministry of Magic’s Education Department.
– We need to improve the security at the entrance!
– So please, let me help you!
By the time the inspection was over, the respected wizards themselves were already unhappy with their visit. Not only was it impossible to find fault with Dumbledore from a legal standpoint, but each of them ended up with a huge stack of documents, kindly provided by the headmaster of Hogwarts.
When the inspection was completed, Lord Malfoy surprised everyone. If the blond wizard hadn’t entered the school through the fireplace in the headmaster’s office, he would certainly have been tested for Polyjuice Potion. Dumbledore’s jaws, like the rest of the delegation’s, dropped when Lucius announced that the board of governors would pay for the injured student’s treatment and even wrote a check for 200 Galleons as compensation to the Weasley family. Then the Aurors’ Patronus flew in, and everyone immediately forgot about the unfortunate boy. It seemed to Dumbledore that the heads of the D.M.P. and Auror Office were even pleased by the emergency.
The Seekers of both teams spotted the Snitch, and the chase for the tiny golden ball began. The spectators cheered and watched with interest as the players raced toward the Forbidden Forest. The Headmaster surveyed the gloomy treetops from above; the Acromantulas had been a success. He’d long wanted to address this issue himself, but he’d never had the time, and involving the Ministry was too cumbersome; he didn’t want to start bureaucratic red tape and answer awkward questions.
And then Merlin himself gave the order! Auror and DMP staff were killed, and the incident itself can be considered an attack on the school. Convincing the Minister wasn’t difficult, so the next day the Chief Warlock received special powers and set about exterminating the arthropod predators. Upon entering the forest and making their way to the acromantulas’ lair, everyone was genuinely shocked; the wizards hadn’t expected these creatures to proliferate so much. How in the world did these heat-loving spiders, native to the tropics, manage to survive in frigid Scotland? Arriving magizoologists confirmed that the local acromantulas are larger and more aggressive than their southern counterparts; at their request, a couple were even preserved for study.
The headmaster turned his gaze to the Gryffindor stands. The students were joyfully cheering and strongly supporting both teams, all but one red-haired boy. Weasley sat surrounded by his friends, sadly watching the players. He felt sorry for the boy, but he’ll get over it with time; children’s psyches are malleable, and a new wand will help him study better and believe in himself. Ron has a large family and loyal friends; they won’t let him fall into darkness or become embittered.
He’ll have to talk to Hagrid again in a week, when the half-giant’s supply of moonshine runs out. Something needs to be done about his love of dangerous animals; he might even drag a dragon to school. Albus was distracted by a joyful roar from the stands; the Ravenclaw Seeker managed to catch the Snitch, and the game was over. Dumbledore smiled contentedly and rose from his seat, but then the Chief Warlock remembered he had four Wizengamot sessions next week, and the smile vanished from his face.
***
I certainly didn’t become a Quidditch fan, but I loved this crazy game. The high-speed flights, dodging iron balls, and other aerial pirouettes were simply magical. The final chase between two Seekers after a barely noticeable golden winged ball was also impressive. I even wanted to mount a broom again and savor the feeling of freedom you feel high in the sky. I’ll definitely beg my mom for a broom during the holidays.
We walked slowly from the stadium to the castle, the bulk of the students already far ahead, but we were keeping up with Ron, who was barely keeping up. Even his favorite game couldn’t rouse him. There was also a problem with the book; we have one at the estate, but only in Russian. We’d have to find one in English, but Mom promised to get it done in a week. Of course, we could give him the original, but Weasley’s English is full of mistakes, and I won’t even mention his knowledge of other languages, so we’ll have to wait.
We made our way to school leisurely. Justin and Ron headed to the living room, while my friend and I took Elvira up to the fifth floor. This morning, Woland brought the oath and a bag of things for the girl; a vassal of the Hellsing family shouldn’t walk around in rags. I’m not saying Smith’s clothes are bad, but they were all bought at a thrift store, and it’s very noticeable. Furthermore, the girl doesn’t have a change of uniform, only a couple of sets of underwear, and the only warm clothing is a tattered sweater.
“I didn’t know there was an abandoned classroom here.” Smith followed Hermione. Hermione opened the door and walked inside first, and we followed her. “Wow! You did this yourself?!”
Elvira looked around, mesmerized, while my friend and I exchanged satisfied glances. Our base of operations was almost complete. The room was brightly lit by a dozen magical lamps glued to the ceiling. We’d reinforced the far wall, and now it holds self-healing targets and mannequins. Along the opposite wall, we’d placed two comfortable sofas, a tea table, and a cabinet for dishes and sweets. In the center were several large tables and comfortable chairs with soft backs. There was also room for a wall bars, a pull-up bar, and a couple of punching bags, creating a small sports corner. Over the Christmas holidays, I’ll ask our DIYers to enchant the shower stall as well. We’re currently cleansing ourselves with magic, but it doesn’t feel quite right.
“Are you ready?” Elvira nodded confidently and I handed her the magical contract, also known as the vassal agreement.
The girl read the document twice, then took a deep breath, as if about to dive into water, and signed the bottom with a bloody pen. Her mother had signed the document before sending it.
“Ouch!” The first-year began rubbing her reddened wrist and watched, her mouth agape, as the vassal treaty glowed faintly and split in two. Now, two identical parchments bearing the Hellsing crest lay on the table.
“Congratulations, you are now a loyal vassal of the Hellsing family and under the protection of the Order of Protestant Knights.” I handed Elvira a small black ring with a red stone, the kind all Order officers wear.
I didn’t know myself, but my mother enlightened me: the entire officer corps is our vassal. Now I understand where all the perks for their families, the increased pay, and other privileges from the Empire come from.
While Smith admired the new decoration, I pocketed my copy of the contract, and Hermione handed the girl her new school bag. Thanks to the space-expanding charm, it held a lot of things. The girl accepted the gift hesitantly, and when she peered inside, she burst into tears.
Elvira clutched the leather goods to her chest with a silly smile, tears streaming down her cheeks. A lump formed in my throat, which I swallowed with difficulty; I immediately thought of the Central Hospital and the unicorn T-shirt. I also clutched the gift from caring citizens, and Mia and I hugged the girl from both sides. Elvira Smith was no longer alone; she now had protection and support, and the Order would become her family. A family she would die for.
Five minutes later, the girl calmed down, and we settled on the sofas with cups of hot chocolate. While Elvira examined the new clothes and robes, we explained how to blood-bind artifacts. Besides the black ring, which signifies her Order membership, I gave Smith two rings—shields against magic and kinetic energy, a wrist chain—an emergency Portkey, but a simple one, it won’t penetrate Hogwarts’ wards, and a set of silver earrings—though thoughts need to be protected too.
After finishing, we went to the common room, waited for the girl to change, and then went to lunch. The Gryffindors immediately noticed the expensive silk robe the Muggle-born orphan was wearing, and the more observant ones also noticed the black ring on her ring finger. I think by evening the whole school will know that the girl is under Hellsing’s protection. After lunch, we went to the library, where we spent the rest of the day.
***
The week flew by, and everyone still avoids us, but we’re not suffering from a lack of communication. The professors have increased the workload a bit and started assigning more assignments, so studying has become much more time-consuming. Add to that the assignments from the academy and our new charge. Now the four of us run in the mornings, and I still remember the shock on her face when we dragged her outside in a November downpour. Running in the freezing rain and knee-deep in mud gives a great boost of energy for the whole day, but Justin and Elvira don’t seem to agree.
Winter is coming soon, the weather has already started to turn nasty, and running through knee-deep snow is uncomfortable. Besides, winters in Scotland are much harsher than in London, so starting Monday we’ll start running up and down the steps of the castle’s main keep. Hermione happily supported my initiative, while Finch-Fletchley and Smith sighed sadly; they were probably hoping we wouldn’t run in the mornings in winter, naive as they were. One of them has practically no muscles, while the other’s cheeks tremble as he runs. We’ve also started teaching the girl household charms and incantations in the evenings. So far, she’s been struggling, but Elvira is trying very hard. Needless to say, after lights out, I literally fall onto my bed and fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.
Saturday breakfast went as usual, but I was burning with anticipation. Yesterday, Mom got me the book I needed in English, and Woland was supposed to deliver it today.
“Where’s Ron?” Hermione, who was sitting to my right, asked Justin, who was sitting opposite me.
“He said he wasn’t hungry.” The guy sighed sadly. “The redhead’s completely fallen apart.”
“We’ve already noticed that,” her friend nodded in response. “For Weasley to skip a meal…”
At that moment, postal owls flew into the room, along with one, a damn, very brazen raven. This black ball of feathers swooped down and dropped the parcel precisely into my bowl of porridge! A fucking Junkers.
– Again! Woland, are you kidding me? – I glared at the raven, who sat down on the table next to me and modestly lowered his head. – Stop laughing!
My friends always find it amusing when our postman arrives, a very cheeky and nasty one. While Justin was laughing, the raven stole all the bacon from his plate and was already aiming for Hermione’s sausages, but after getting a fork to the beak, he jumped back in offense.
– Serves you right! Totally freaking out! – From under the mantle another dirty trick stuck out, only scaly.
– Kaaar! – The raven answered the snake and, grabbing a sausage from the common plate, flew away.
“Mistress, he talked such bullshit about you, I’d eat him if I were you, ” Vasya quietly hissed in my ear.
– Are you sure it’s about me? – I addressed my familiar very quietly and sternly.
“Well, I’m a part of you, and if he made a claim on me, that means he screwed you! ” Shlang started making excuses.
“Rigel,” Lavender turned to me, and Vasya quickly hid his face back. “Why did you name your messenger bird that?”
– How? – I didn’t understand the question.
– Well… V-V-Voland, that was the name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. – Brown glanced around furtively, – I heard from Bowl, and McManus told her, and she heard from Johnson that you named the raven after your father.
– Awesome! – I wanted to bang my head on the table, and I heard Hermione’s cheerful grunting nearby.
– Ha-ha-ha! Cough… – Justin started laughing and choked on his oatmeal, I couldn’t help but smile.
“No, Lavender, this raven belongs to my mother, and Woland…” The blonde shuddered; Mrazota had scared them well. “That’s the name of the hero of a book she really likes. It’s called ‘The Master and Margarita,’ written by the Russian writer Mikhail Bulgakov.”
– I see. Thank you for explaining. – Brown nodded understandingly. – It’s just that there are all sorts of rumors going around.
“It’s fine, I don’t pay attention to it.” Nodding to the girl, I unwrapped the package and took out the book.
– “The Story of a Real Man”, what’s it about? – My friend rested her chin on my shoulder. – And how will you get Ron to read it? Draw a broom?
“It’s a book about a pilot who lost both his legs, but still returned to duty and continued to fight the enemy.” I looked at my friends. “His name is Alexei Maresyev, and it’s more of a biography of a hero of the Great War. He piloted a fighter jet without legs and shot down enemy planes.”
Our friends nodded understandingly, we got up from the table and headed to the Gryffindor tower.
“I hope it helps, Ron is really bad.” Justin walked slowly next to him.
“Don’t exaggerate.” Hermione nudged the pessimist.
“Last night, one of the looters took a dump in the redhead’s chest.” My friend winced, and I wondered if I should break their faces again. “So, in the morning, Ron just threw the stinking things in the laundry basket and lay back down on the bed.
– Fuck. – I completely agree with my friend.
We quickly climbed up to the seventh floor and, after giving the password, found ourselves in the common room. It was Saturday, so the room was crowded, and the wet snow and gusty wind made it difficult to walk outside. I looked around, searching for the redhead. Weasley was sitting in front of the fireplace, looking sadly into the flames.
“Ron, we need to talk.” I came up behind him and put my hand on his shoulder.
– Hey guys, let’s do it tomorrow, I’m not in the mood today.
“You’ve been in a bad mood for a week now, how much longer are you going to feel sorry for yourself?” I slapped the sufferer on the back of the head.
“What do you know?!” Weasley jumped up and glared at me. “You still have all your limbs, and your skin is perfect, not a single scar! And now I’m a dead ringer for Mad-Eye!”
– F*ck me up. – I slapped the redhead hard and grabbed the hem of his robe. – Let’s go!
I dragged Weasley along like a draft horse; he was still in shock from the slap, so he didn’t resist. Mia understood my plan and went ahead to open the doors, with Justin bringing up the rear. We reached our base fairly quickly. I forcefully pushed Ron into the classroom and, while he looked around open-mouthed, threw off my robes.
“Ron, what the hell is wrong with you?!” I walked up to him and grabbed him by the lapels. “Why are you dropping your hands? You can play Quidditch without any legs!”
– What does Quidditch have to do with it?! Look at my mug! – Weasley took a step back and ran his fingers over the scars on his face. – This will last for life! I’ve become a freak! Who needs me like this now?! Easy for you to say! You’re simply beautiful!
“So she’s a beauty, huh?” I turned my back to the guy and pulled off my jumper, then started unbuttoning my blouse. “You know that Lady Hellsing adopted me from an orphanage, right? So, before the orphanage, I lived in a foster family.”
The blouse fell to the floor, and behind me I heard a sharp intake of breath. I turned around and saw horror on the guy’s face. We’re still kids, so there’s nothing to be embarrassed about yet. Sure, there’s a hint of breasts, and I’m even wearing a 0-cup bra to cover them up, but puberty is still a couple of years away. So everything’s fine.
I spun around demonstratively, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed Justin gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, while Ron continued to stare at me in shock.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I always wear long-sleeved, high-necked clothes.” I slowly approached Weasley. He swallowed and took a step back, and I ran my finger over one of the scars on his face. “Ron, these scars make you look masculine and brutal. As my teacher used to say: scars adorn a real man. It’s more difficult for me in this regard…”
– Rigel, who did this? – Finch-Fletchley interrupted me, the guy was furious and was now angrily playing with his jaw muscles, Ron nodded at his question and clenched his fists.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” The boys stared at me in confusion, and Hermione handed me a blouse, and I threw it on and began to slowly button it. “I killed them. To stop the bullying and gain freedom, I stabbed those creatures to death. I was six years old then.”
A tense silence fell over the room. The boys stared at me wide-eyed, and my friend and I headed toward the couches. While I poured tea and Mia took sweets out of the cupboard, the boys came to their senses a little and approached us.
– Rigel, I’m sorry… I… I didn’t know… – Ron took the cup from the table and, lowering his head, began to stir the sugar.
“Weasley, you’ve been apologizing too much lately.” Hermione took a sip and, setting her cup on the saucer, looked closely at the redhead. “The best apology would be the smile that never left your face before.”
“Ron, I’m not angry. As you can see, I live peacefully with these scars.” The boy nodded understandingly, and a dim light appeared in his eyes. “As a friend, I ask you to pull yourself together and pull yourself together! We know how much you love flying, so I have a little gift for you.”
I took the book out of my bag and handed it to him. Ron placed the cup on the table and opened it with interest. On the first page was a photograph of that very Alexei Maresyev. The smiling pilot stood next to the plane and demonstratively pulled up his trousers, showing the photographer his prosthetics. Weasley examined the photo with interest, then looked at his legs, and then at me with a smile.
– Thank you! I’ll definitely read it. – The book went into his robe pocket, and the guy blushed again and lowered his head. – I realized I was wrong… I’ll smile again, just… This… Don’t take your clothes off anymore…
What a red-haired bitch! Justin couldn’t help but laugh, and we joined him.
***
It was Sunday evening, and my friends and I were sitting on our couch, minding our own business. Ron was eagerly reading the book he’d been given, Justin was playing chess with Elvira, Hermione and the girls were leafing through a fashion magazine and quietly whispering, and I was designing a rune chain to protect against thieves. Once I’m done, I’ll give Weasley the necessary tools and detailed instructions so he can protect his chest from looters. I could have done it myself, of course, but letting Ron do it himself will give him confidence. Just be sure to check everything before activating it, otherwise he’ll mess something up and blow the whole tower to hell.
My head was already pounding, and I decided to distract myself by looking around the common room, which was in a state of absolute mourning. Today was the Gryffindor-Slytherin match, and our team lost with a crushing score of 410 to 30. The Slytherins played rough, bordering on foul play, but they were very coordinated, unlike our team. Now I understood why the entire house had turned against the twins! The boys were excellent Beaters, but because of that accident, they were banned from Quidditch for a year. For six weeks, Wood hadn’t found a worthy replacement for them. Not only had the Seeker graduated last year, but they’d also lost two Beaters.
This year, our team is the weakest in the school, and they’re blaming it all on the redheads—strange logic, of course. I glanced at the twins; the boys had huddled in the far corner, trying to keep a low profile. They’d already gotten beat up twice by older students today; I clearly underestimated the importance of Quidditch for wizards and its impact on society.
I remember the movies depicting guys who were incredibly talented and inventive, but completely uninhibited. It’s pretty much the same here: inventing a new potion in their second year is a real achievement, though it did kill a first-year, but that was an accident. It happened due to a lack of knowledge and experience, and also that same lack of inhibitions. Ron told me how he developed arachnophobia when he was eight years old, when some idiots threw a huge spider in his bed. These differently gifted people caught a small tarantula and, using a spell, enlarged it to the size of a German Shepherd, then threw it under their younger brother’s blanket that night. The younger Weasley was scared and panicked, and as a result, the spider bit him. The arthropod was young and not very venomous, but the bite was very painful. Mrs. Weasley came running to the screams and threw the mutant out the window, and then spent the rest of the morning calming the frightened child while two idiots laughed behind the wall.
These idiots’ potential and energy need to be channeled in the right direction, and they need to be kept under tight rein. I have an idea that might interest them. And if they’re hooked, the twins could easily be recruited into the Order after school. Two strong wizards wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially since I’m friends with their younger brother, and I’ll have to get to know the older Weasleys. The redheads have a lot of children; they could form two platoons. (Author’s note: A platoon has three squads of ten, with one wizard assigned to each squad.) I sighed heavily and headed in their direction.
– Hello Fred! Hello George! – I smiled at the gloomy Gryffindors.
– Brother, look who is standing in front of us now!
– Yes, this is crazy…
– Ruthless…
– Bloody….
– And the great Hellsing!
– And what was needed so…
– Great…
– To the sorceress…
– From two modest third-year students?
Their manner of speech made my eye twitch, and I felt like I was listening to my surroundings through broken headphones. I shook my head and looked seriously at those sardonic faces.
“I have a business proposition for you. Is there somewhere we can discuss it, without prying ears?” The guys immediately straightened up, and all the joking mood disappeared.
– Let’s go, I hope the offer is worthwhile. – Said Fred, or maybe George, it doesn’t matter.
The twins stood up in unison and headed for the exit, and I followed them. After leaving the living room, we turned right, then walked forward a bit further and came across an inconspicuous niche in the wall. Conveniently, there was even a bench, and there were no living portraits nearby. While I was looking around, the guys cast a few listening spells and a simple distraction spell around us.
– Tell me! – The Weasleys said this in chorus and stared at me intently.
“I know you dream of opening your own joke shop,” the red-haired heads nodded in unison. “But after last year’s incident, no self-respecting wizard would risk trying your products, I think you understand that.”
“And what are you suggesting? Wipe everyone’s memory?” one of the twins whispered conspiratorially.
“No, there’s a better option, much more profitable and safer.” I grinned contentedly, and the guys winced for some reason. “By the way, why a joke shop?”
– This is fun!
– And? – I stared at the guys carefully.
– That’s it! – Two satisfied red-haired faces nod at me.
“I see, but your sense of humor is terrible.” The boys frowned. “I suggest you start making simple protective and household amulets.”
“Why? And who needs them anyway?” one of the brothers spoke up. “All nobles wear family artifacts, and those who have money shop at Diagon Alley.”
“And what about those who don’t have money? Muggleborns and half-bloods can’t afford such luxury,” I retorted.
“So what are we going to offer them?” one of the brothers chuckled. “Forgive me, but we don’t know how to make emergency portkeys.”
“Brother, let’s start selling Sneakoscopes and invisibility cloaks right away!” the second twin continued sarcastically. “But first, let’s catch the Demi-Mask and shave him off!”
– You can start small. – I looked out the window, I expected something like this, an icy wind was blowing outside and it was raining heavily. – Guys, is it very cold in the castle in winter?
– Very!
– The corridors are not heated!
– But…
– Us…
– It’s not cold!
– Warming charms…
– They forced me…
– Learn it before school!
– And also mom…
– Embroidered on our clothes…
– Runes of warmth, comfort…
– Softness and dryness!
“Are they complicated?” One of the brothers opened his robe and I saw a chain of five runes. “There’s your first idea.”
– What? – Two uncomprehending glances.
– Fuck! – I rubbed my face with my hands. – Let me explain, purebloods know these charms from childhood, you are taught them from birth. Muggle-borns and half-bloods don’t even know such charms exist! These spells are learned at the end of third year. You can make simple warming amulets out of shit and sticks and sell them for ten Galleons. The blanks and dyes cost knuts, the profit will be huge! There will be no end to the first and second years.
Silence fell in the hallway, and the twins’ faces showed intense thought. After a couple of minutes, the boys nodded to each other and turned to me.
“We didn’t think about that,” Fred said thoughtfully. “And I couldn’t understand why they were wrapping themselves up like that…”
“Guys, you’re purebloods, a lot of things are obvious to you.” I shook my head. “Take Elvira, she learned about magic a couple of months ago! You can whip up a ton of stuff: hot water bottles, fireflies, self-cleaning handkerchiefs, and so on.”
“Our brother’s girlfriend is right, we can try,” said one of the brothers, and began to thoughtfully examine the embroidery on his robe.
“I agree, but there’s a problem,” the second one continued. “It seems to me like they share a single brain. You can’t get very far on heating pads and fireflies alone…”
– We’re more into potions, of course we go to ancient runes…
– But they don’t teach artifact making at school…
– But there are no useful textbooks…
– We checked…
– That’s why we chose potions!
– But to make something more serious, you need knowledge…
– And books!
– So our question is, what are you offering and how much do you want for it? – They said this phrase at the same time, in fucking stereo.
“I’ll lend you 100 galleons for the first few pieces and give you the necessary literature on artifact making, and in return I want 70% of the profits.” I made a modest face, even shuffling my foot.
– HOW MUCH?! – What loud guys. I was even afraid their eyes would pop out of their heads.
– Okay, 67%
– 3% and not a knut more! – George spoke up, the first to stop gasping for air. – Why do you need so much money?! You’re already rich!
– How much?! Are you fucking nuts!? Actually, my mom is rich, and I want to earn enough for my own ice cream! – I stamped my foot dramatically. – 60% minimum! I give you an idea, money, and rare books! It’s easier for me to hire homeless people from Lyutny!
– You’re completely fucking nuts! 4% is enough for ice cream! There’ll even be some left over for lollipops! – Fred supported his brother. – We’ll do all the work, we’ll look for clients, we’ll do the advertising!
– Yes! All the most difficult and dangerous things are on us! So don’t get cheeky! – George chimed in.
I deliberately named such outrageous figures, wanting to test their reaction and business acumen. I didn’t need the money, but I needed to show the guys I was interested. We spent about an hour haggling over every percentage, like haggling over a pair of Chinese Abibas sneakers at the market; one of the brothers even lost his voice. In the end, we agreed on a 16% share of the profits for me and an interest-free loan of 100 Galleons, all under a magical contract, of course.
– That’s agreed, I’ll have the contract ready by next weekend. – I smiled sweetly at the twins. – Partners.
“Wait, I have a question.” Fred was tired but pleased. “If most of our clients are Muggleborns, how will they pay?”
“That’s right!” George continued quietly, his voice hoarse. I think I’ve learned to tell them apart. “The bank’s limited, so they practically have no coins, and we don’t need those Muggle bills. We can Transfigure those ourselves.”
“So how are we supposed to buy new supplies?” Fred looked at me thoughtfully. “Let’s say we accept some of the payment in paper, but what are we going to do with it? The shops on Kosaya don’t accept waste paper, and we can’t exchange much either, so should you hand it over?”
– Why? – I feigned surprise. – I thought about that too, tomorrow I’ll introduce you to someone.
