Chapter 54
From behind the looking glass, a grown-up “me” smiled kindly at me, tall and slender, “my” long, waist-length black hair with white streaks loose and fluttering in the gentle breeze. “I” was dressed in a light blue sarafan, and with her right hand, the smooth skin of which was unblemished by a single scar, she stroked her noticeably rounded belly. And to the left of “me” stood HE! My Alyoshka! In the uniform of a colonel in the imperial armed forces, with a multitude of medals and awards on his powerful chest. My beloved smiled tenderly and put his right arm around “me” by the shoulders. The two exchanged glances, Alyoshka leaned forward and kissed “me” tenderly, then hugged him tightly.
As “we” pulled away slightly, the mirror added a detail: to the right of “us” stood a contented trio—Alucard, smiling proudly, with his arms around his mother and Victoria’s waists. Both women radiated happiness, caressing their rounded bellies with one hand and waving invitingly at me with the other. On the other side stood Mia, hugging a tall, black-haired, blue-eyed warrior in the uniform of a Vityaz officer. These lovebirds were holding the shoulders of a short, snub-nosed, blue-eyed girl with a mane of curly black hair, who tucked a copy of Hogwarts, A History, under her arm and was telling me something with a knowing air. Catching my gaze, they immediately waved, clearly beckoning me over. I looked again at “us” with Alyoshka, these two were still hugging and periodically kissing, but at some point my beloved smiled proudly and nodded his head towards his free hand.
While he was hugging “me” with his right arm, his left held Sirius Black’s head by his long hair, his face forever frozen in a look of horror and suffering. “I” smiled contentedly and patted my beloved on the shoulder, then looked down and gave the body of the Abomination, lying at my feet, a good kick. His face was torn to pieces, soulful and imaginative, his teeth knocked out, and the once-glowing red eyes burned with a hot iron. His body bore multiple mutilations and signs of torture; his arms and legs had been severed, judging by the tattered flesh and protruding bone fragments, by Victoria’s chainsword. The creature mumbled something through broken lips and coughed up blood. In response, “I” placed my foot on his throat and pressed my heel against his Adam’s apple. Lyoshka gently stroked “me” on the back and also kicked Mrazota, who now looked more like an ugly samovar. (Author’s note: “Samovars” were the name given to the most severely disabled front-line soldiers who had lost all their limbs.)
“I” smiled happily and half-turned back to where the bonfires of cleansing flames blazed. Hundreds of them, where wizards burned in agony with terrifying screams. Looking closer, I recognized Black Sr., Rosier screaming wildly next to him—I recognized him too—and I’d seen the others at the station and remembered them all! I vividly recall the expressions of hatred, malice, and a certain disgust with which they looked at my mother and me. Burn, you creatures! All of you! Some purebred bitch’s hair burst into flames, and the red skin on her face blistered and cracked. Madame was apparently screaming loudly. It’s a shame I can’t hear this beautiful symphony from here.
“I” looked again at my beloved, whose eyes glowed with warmth and kindness, and pressed my whole body against him. Lyoshka let go of Black’s head, and it rolled at “our” feet, but my darling only chuckled and kicked it aside. Then he wrapped both arms around “me” around the waist and held me tightly.
“I love you,” I read his lips. “I will always be there and I will never leave you.”
“I love you too…” I whispered, my left hand touching the cool surface of the mirror. My reflection and my beloved did the same, our palms separated by only a thin layer of glass. “I want to be with you…”
Drawing the pistol with my right hand, I rested the barrel against my chin, my finger already on the trigger. One move, and I would finally find peace, one move, and all my problems would end, one move, and Alyoshka and I would be together forever, one move…
– OW-OW-OW! – A terrible pain shot through me, it felt like my right ear was being pinched and pulled somewhere.
Leaning to the side, I broke eye contact with the mirror and saw a dark, abandoned classroom before me, now dimly lit by the moon. I blinked and didn’t immediately realize where I was, but a new flash of pain helped me comprehend what was happening. I stared blankly at the gun in my hand, a slight tremor running through me, tears streaming down my cheeks. Holy shit! This was it! With a mental command, I sent the gun into the bracelet and with my free hand stroked my savior, because another minute and my brains would have decorated the walls and ceiling.
– Thank you! – Breathing heavily, I stroked Vasya’s head.
– Are you awake!? Are you completely fucking nuts?! What the fuck are you staring at in this scary crap for?! – My familiar didn’t even hiss, but screamed nervously, and then grabbed me by the ear again and pulled me to the side.
– Rhea! If you don’t answer right now, I’m coming to you! – Hermione’s panicked scream was heard in the other ear. – Rhea, please answer!
“Mia, I’m fine, I’m fine now,” I answered my friend with a trembling voice and took a couple more steps away from the creepy thing called the Mirror of Erised. “You don’t need to go anywhere, just watch the map for now.”
– What happened? – I hear my friend’s incredulous voice.
“I’ll tell you everything later, let me come to my senses. This mirror is a terrible thing.” My voice was still shaking, and I continued to stroke Vasya with my right hand. At least the watchful serpent had let go of my ear.
– Okay, I’m waiting for a detailed report.
– Agreed. – I turned my head and looked at the displeased snake’s face. – Thank you, you saved me.
“Thank you very much, a greasy lunch will be enough, ” the hose grumbled and butted me in the cheek. ” It’s not my fault that my mistress is fucked up. Do you know how much strength this cunt has drained from you?”
I listened to myself and gasped, my reserve had dropped almost by half! I cast Tempus and was stunned again; I stood in front of the mirror for about an hour! Afterwards, I rubbed my sore ear with my hand; judging by the blood, Vasya had bitten it. Whatever, the main thing was that suicidal thoughts hadn’t crossed my mind anymore. You had to think of that… Well, Dumbledore, you bitch! For such a setup, I’ll at the very least shit in his slippers, and at the very most, shave off his gray beard and make a washcloth out of it.
I didn’t doubt for a minute that this was a setup. This was probably some kind of test, and the director was watching me. But the kind old man’s attention didn’t stop me from trying to get the stone out of the mirror. Why? Because all magical tracking spells and farsight spells are very fragile and delicate! And the Philosopher’s Stone is a very powerful artifact, supposed to emit magic like uranium rods from a nuclear reactor. Therefore, once the stone is outside the shielded space, all the spells the director cast will simply burn to hell! Of course, then I’ll have to quickly chip off a piece and stuff the stone back in, and wait for the bearded old man to appear. He won’t bother me, so I’ll have to tell the story of how we accidentally got the stone and then put the crap back.
In theory, it all sounded pretty simple, but in practice… I glanced at the mirror and goosebumps marched up my spine. Each one was the size of a fist, and they stomped on me like pigs. I liked what I saw, of course, and I would have liked to catch a glimpse of it again… I felt his embrace as if it were real, like in my first life, in front of the dorm entrance… Lyoshka was seeing me off for the third time, it was raining, and we stood for about an hour under the entrance canopy, and then he leaned forward… It was my first kiss. So sweet… Maybe even just one… Wham! I gave myself a resounding slap.
– No! This. Cannot. Be! – I whispered quietly to myself.
Victoria, by nature, can’t get pregnant, and Alyoshka died long ago! I personally attended his funeral and threw clods of earth onto the zinc coffin. Bitch! Damn it! Pull yourself together, you wimp! Alyoshka is gone, but there’s Mom and Hermione! Think of them and remember the circumstances under which you met!
Sirius’s hideous face, abandoning me and sending me to his own personal hell, flashed before my eyes. After the flea-bitten one, I remembered the red-eyed one, and I vividly remember him killing Lily and stepping over her corpse in disgust. While those two were alive, I couldn’t die; I’d prepared so many tortures for them, at least for a couple of months! For each of them! But the idea of bonfires and quartering was quite interesting; I should have thought about it, but later. Right now, I had a different task before me. So, I’d banished the sentimental mood; it was time to get down to business.
” Vasya, if I get stuck again, pull with all your might, ” I said to the tensed snake.
– Is it that important? – The familiar looked me seriously in the eyes.
– Very much! – I nod in response.
“Why are all the two-legged ones so fucked up… Tomorrow, under the waterfall, you’ll wash every single scale of mine with that nice thing. ” The future king of snakes grumbled and carefully grabbed my earlobe with his mouth. It felt like someone had attached a weak clothespin.
I pulled two vials from my pocket: one with a strengthening potion, and the other, from my grandfather, with an elixir that improved brain function. This stimulant accelerates brain activity and greatly aids Occlumency, but it could only be taken once a month, otherwise you could easily burn out your nervous system and become a vegetable. After consuming the doping, I put on my dragonhide gloves and cranked up Occlumency to maximum. It was very easy, almost too easy, so I tightened my shields even more.
Okay, now imagine we need to save the stone, I have to save the stone, this fucking boulder can’t fall into the hands of the Scum! A fragment from the movie appeared before my eyes, only instead of Harry, it was me trying to stop Quirrell from getting the stone. Why didn’t I do that right away? I’ll think about it later, even though I know the answer, but now is the moment of truth I’ve been waiting for for years. Taking a deep breath and squeezing my eyes shut, I extended my hand and walked to the mirror.
“Attempt number zwei.” My fingertips were already touching the mirror, but I didn’t dare open my eyes. I continued to replay the scene from the movie in my head and whisper. “I have to save the stone; it mustn’t fall into the hands of the Scum.”
– Come on already, ugh! – Vasya butted me in the ear. – Shaking like a virgin in front of a crowd of horny niggas! My mistress is strong, she will give pussy to everyone!
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Looking back at me from the reflection was “me,” just as disheveled, with tear streaks down my cheeks and blood on my ear and neck. This mirror-like chupacabra smiled mischievously and winked at me, then patted the pocket of her robe. And then it hit me for the second time: I’m a fucking empath!
The Philosopher’s Stone had barely left the mirror when the room turned into a living hell! The cobblestone emitted such a radioactive emanation of death, pain, and suffering that I doubled over and vomited. With a shaking hand, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the abomination, but it only made things worse! I literally felt the death throes of thousands of people in my gut; it felt as if these unfortunate souls were dying right behind me, begging for help. My legs gave way, and I fell to my knees, emptying my stomach again, though it seemed there was nothing left to vomit.
This time I came to rather quickly, after only ten minutes, and I was helped along by a sound in my ear—the sound of a cat vomiting! Looking around, I realized I was on all fours, and on the floor in front of me lay the contents of my inner world. And a pretty good puddle, a stinking one at that. I winced, turned my head to the right, and saw Vasya, who had turned white; the poor familiar was vomiting right on me. Shaking my head and looking around, I found the Philosopher’s Stone, lying a meter away from me and still emitting emanations of pain and suffering. I felt myself writhing again, but I pulled myself together and tried to stand.
It took me three tries to get to my feet. The first time, I slipped and fell flat on the floor like a starfish. I tried not to think about what I’d slipped on or what I’d fallen into. My faithful serpent weakly pleaded with me to leave or throw the abomination away, not even swearing, he was so miserable. Swaying, I slowly approached the stone and fell to my knees before it. With a shaking hand, I took out my alpenstock, aimed, and struck the edge of that damned boulder. The blow wasn’t strong, but it broke off a small piece of the main stone, the size of my thumbnail; that should have been enough.
Afterwards, I dug my hand almost elbow-deep into my pocket and pulled out a silver box, its walls covered in various runes and symbols. When my grandfather learned about the Philosopher’s Stone and my plan, he yelled and cursed for a long time, even pulling his belt out and threatening to spank me. Sergei insisted I tell my mother everything, saying that adults should decide such things. I countered that if my mother found out, either a heavy assault force or Alucard and Victoria, or maybe both, would be sent to Hogwarts the next day. My grandfather paled at the thought of two higher vampires appearing in a school full of magically gifted children, but then he admitted there was a grain of truth in my words and gave me until the Easter holidays, along with the box. More precisely, it’s a special safe for storing and transporting particularly dangerous dark artifacts.
I took off my glove and placed my finger in the indentation on the lid. My finger pricked, the box opened, and the shard instantly went inside. Slamming the lid shut, I shoved the mini-safe into my pocket; it had a space-expansion charm, so it went in without a problem. Putting my glove back on, I picked up the main boulder and stood up slooooowly. It was still emitting a strong signal, but I was starting to get used to it; humans are such beasts that they get used to anything.
– Mistress… Faster… I beg… – Vasya’s pitiful whisper was heard in his right ear. – I can hear their voices …
“I’m trying!” I swayed as I approached the mirror. At the moment, I couldn’t care less what cartoons were showing, I only wanted one thing: to get rid of the abomination in my hands.
I was seized by another spasm, and with my free hand I grabbed the carved frame, but with nothing left to puke on, I quickly straightened up. I pressed the stone against the mirror’s surface and sincerely wished for the artifact to return to its place. I even closed my eyes for better visualization, the image of the Philosopher’s Stone reappearing behind the mirror’s surface playing in my head. I opened my eyes, looked at my hand, and aaaand… The result exceeded all my expectations!
Absolutely nothing happened! The damned boulder refused to fit back into the mirror! Maybe I should try the other way around? After another ten minutes, I realized I couldn’t force the unforceable into it. Dumbledore wasn’t rushing to see me either, so that left only one option: take the stone to the Headmaster. There was just one problem: how?!
“Mia, we have a problem,” I whisper quietly into the void, leaning one hand on the mirror frame; if I let go, I might fall.
– What’s happened?
– I have the stone, but…
– WHAT?! – Judging by her voice, my friend is screaming.
“I can’t abandon him, but he reeks of pain and suffering…” I took a breath and grimaced. “I’m afraid… I won’t make it…”
– Umm… Shield him. – Captain Obvious says thoughtfully in my ear.
– The smartest? How? – It’s better not to talk about the box out loud.
– Take off your glove!
“I won’t touch that abomination with my bare hands!” I shuddered.
– You idiot! Put that fucking rock in your glove and tie it tight! – A didactic, grumpy tone sounds in my ear. – But we read together that dragon skin has shielding properties!
– Exactly! – I even banged my head on the frame; my friend was rapidly rising in rank to Admiral Yasenkher. – I’ll do everything now.
Pulling off my left glove, I stuffed the stone into it, then rummaged through my vest and pulled out a plastic zip tie, which I used to tightly tie the neck. I immediately felt noticeably better; the emanations of pain and suffering were three times weaker, maybe more. Scratching my head, I stuffed the left glove into the right one. Thankfully, the wide neck and the athame—I had to rip it open a bit. Then I tightened the resulting structure with a few zip ties and sat down on my butt right in the middle of the classroom. Good… The stone had almost completely stopped emitting radiation; even Vasya, instead of groaning, had switched to heavy snoring.
“Miya, I’m all…” I say weakly into the void. “I’ll get over it a bit and then I’ll go see the principal.”
– Do you need help?
– No, it’s better to watch from the side and listen. If I stop answering, then call my mother immediately.
– Got it. – My friend’s voice trembles slightly. – Tomorrow morning I’ll beat the crap out of you!
– Agreed.
With a groan, I rose to an upright position and reached into my pocket. I pulled out another bottle of strengthening potion and downed it in one gulp. I pulled out a flask of water and greedily drank from it, not forgetting about the snake either. Vasya was slurping down the water like a drunkard slurping down cold beer with a hangover. Once I’d drunk, I pulled out my wand and began cleaning the floor and clothes of traces of human and snake activity. At least I didn’t shit myself; the pressure of the pebble had clenched my buttocks so tightly that I could have turned a crowbar into a blade without any magic. I finished cleaning, looked around the empty room with satisfaction, and headed for Dumbledore’s office; I needed to get rid of that abomination immediately.
Under the cloak of invisibility, I quickly reached the hideous gargoyle guarding the entrance to the venerable elder’s office and stared blankly at it. Only now did it dawn on me that I didn’t know the password! Why was everything always so wrong with me?!
– Um… Sweet bubaleh? – The Stone Guardian shook his head. – Lemon wedges? Fruit marmalade? Grape churchkhela?
“Bless you!” the gargoyle replied sarcastically.
– So, here’s how it is! – I was fed up with everything and pulled a phosphorus grenade out of my pocket. – Either you inform the director of my arrival right now, or I will arrange…
Before I could finish, the guard deftly stepped aside, opening the way for me to the magical escalator. Nodding, I went to surrender to the old man. I climbed the stairs, knocked on the wooden door, and pushed it open. The director’s office hadn’t changed since my last visit: the same artifacts emitting strange sounds, the same golden throne, the same large fireplace, next to which the director stood.
Dumbledore looked comical, and I even smiled wearily. The great wizard wore a white nightcap, and a long white nightshirt peeked out from beneath his golden, star-studded robe. The old man wore a sleepy expression and pretended to have just woken up, but his emotions gave him away. The headmaster exuded impatience, anxiety, and relief, and his intent gaze pierced me like an X-ray.
“Miss Hellsing, what brings you to my office at such a late hour?” Dumbledore smiled good-naturedly. “I hope it’s something important, otherwise I’ll be forced to deduct points and assign you detention.”
– Director, here’s the thing… – I sniffled. – In one of the abandoned classrooms, I accidentally stumbled upon a strange mirror, and then this fell out of it. – I took a bundle tied with zip ties from my pocket and handed it to the old man. – I decided that THIS belongs to you.
“Miss Hellsing, you have done a very kind and noble deed, even though it was very difficult for you.” The principal looked me over thoughtfully, lingering on my pale face with the dark circles under my eyes. “So I won’t ask how you ended up in an abandoned classroom at night.”
Dumbledore waved his hand, and the stone flew toward him. The plastic clamps snapped, the first glove fell to the floor, the old man winced slightly, and my brain was once again assaulted by emanations of pain, suffering, and hopelessness.
“Please, don’t! Don’t unroll this abomination!” I almost screamed at the director, a lump already forming in my throat. “If he doesn’t listen, I’ll puke on purpose.”
Dumbledore froze and looked at me with a new look, then with a wave of his hand summoned a box, somewhat reminiscent of Grandfather’s, and removed the stone. The room immediately felt comfortable, and I plopped down into the comfortable, soft chair that appeared behind me.
“You realized that this is the Philosopher’s Stone, and what it really is?” The director asked me with a sad smile and took a teapot out of the chest of drawers.
While I was pondering my answer, Dumbledore poured two cups of fragrant, hot tea, beckoning a vase of lemon wedges from the table. Another wave of his hand, and a beautiful carved wooden table and another chair appeared before me. Such a complex Transfiguration, and wandless! I want to do that too. Meanwhile, the old man sat down across from me and took a sip from his cup.
“I see… It’s a good thing no one but Flamel knows the secret of making the Philosopher’s Stone.” I picked up the cup; the ring was silent, so I happily took a sip of the aromatic tea and nibbled on a lemon wedge. “Not exactly cognac with Nikolai, but it’s fine for the age.”
“You’re right. I learned a lot from my teacher and was proud to be the student of such a wise and powerful wizard, but when I realized what the Philosopher’s Stone was, I became very disillusioned with him.” Dumbledore sighed sadly.
“It must be destroyed!” I glanced angrily at the box, which was now standing on the mantelpiece. “This abomination must not exist.”
“Alas… I can’t do that… The teacher entrusted the stone to me for safekeeping, and I am obliged to return it safe and sound.” The director took a sip, his emotions seething with regret and disgust. “I thought Nicolas would kill me when he realized I’d learned his secret, but he only asked me to swear a dozen oaths and vows of secrecy, and then he let me go. He’s not such a bad man, really.”
“Really? For me, Flamel is a monster who must be destroyed! He killed thousands of innocent people for the sake of eternal life.” I set the empty cup back on the saucer. “I hope the Inquisition finds him sooner or later, and then he will answer for his crimes.”
– Ah, youth, impulsiveness and maximalism are inherent in all immature minds… – The old man smiled into his beard, and a sheet of black paper appeared in his hand. – Miss Hellsing, tell me what color is the parchment in my hands?
“Black,” I muttered in response.
“The answer is incorrect, it’s white.” With these words, Dumbledore shook his head and unfolded the sheet of paper, which on his side was milky white. “Remember once and for all, there are at least two points of view on every subject, but often there are many more.”
“And what does that have to do with a man who killed thousands of innocents to create such a vile artifact?” I grimaced at the memories. “He’s hardly even human.”
“Nicolas didn’t just create the Philosopher’s Stone; he’s been pushing both wizarding and Muggle science forward for centuries. Did you know that Flamel developed penicillin and then passed on detailed instructions to Fleming? And I know of at least a dozen such examples…” The old man lowered his head and stared at his teacup. “Nicolas killed thousands, maybe tens of thousands of innocents, but he also saved just as many, maybe more. For me, the old teacher will always be remembered as a mad scientist, not a monster and a murderer.”
– But why does he need the stone? Is he so afraid of death? – I didn’t expect Dumbledore to be so frank.
“Not exactly, it’s hard to explain… You know alchemists have been trying to create the Philosopher’s Stone since ancient times?” I nod. “Well, Flamel succeeded, but he couldn’t bring himself to share such a terrible secret, and he couldn’t destroy his discovery. In some ways, I understand him… He voluntarily condemned himself and his wife, Pernella, to eternal isolation; they can only watch from the sidelines as life goes on around them.”
“That didn’t stop him from accepting Grindelwald’s offer and experimenting on prisoners in the death camps.” I glared at the director.
“You are very erudite for your age,” the director nodded. “That is very commendable.”
“I don’t need your praise, better answer why Flamel keeps doing this.” I nodded toward the box on the mantelpiece. “How can you consider this bastard…”
“No need to swear in my office!” Dumbledore interrupted me sharply and, after a brief silence, continued. “Remember the year my old teacher was born; morals were far more cruel in those dark times. Besides, Nicolas lived for over six centuries, and over those years his soul has hardened, burned out… Most of us are driven by emotions, joy or sadness, love or hate, we can destroy or create, but every action is always accompanied by emotions. My old teacher is burned out. Yes, he continues his research, but I have never seen the fire in his eyes; now he lives and acts by intuition, out of habit. Sometimes it seemed to me that he is tired of life, but is afraid to admit it.” The Headmaster sighed heavily. “He is driven by precise calculation, so it makes no difference to him whether he kills or saves a thousand lives, the main thing is that the given action brings benefit or profit.” Alas, Nicholas Flamel is no longer a human in the traditional sense, but rather a sentient golem, an immortal lich, or an automaton, completely devoid of feelings and emotions. Or, as the Muggles now call it, an artificial intelligence—I hope that makes it clearer.
“Yes.” I nodded thoughtfully. Living so many years and maintaining your sanity is very difficult. I dread to imagine what it must have cost Alucard, though I wouldn’t dare call my uncle completely normal. But that’s not the point now. “And how do you know about artificial intelligence?”
“Miss Hellsing, there’s no need to make wizards out to be backward idiots.” The old man looked at me condescendingly. “Despite all the conservatism of Wizarding Britain, we closely follow Muggle technological progress; the Hogwarts Express and the Knight Bus are proof of that. Many European guilds have already begun to master Muggle computers and the information network, and, by the way, I visit Leningrad and Ludwigshafen every year.”
– Why? – I looked at the director with interest and took a lemon wedge from the vase.
“I hasten to remind you that I am a Master of Alchemy, and my research is regularly published in international scientific journals.” The director feigned offense and stroked his beard. “And Germany is where that CRAP is based, along with their enormous library.”
– What, excuse me, is it based on? – A lemon wedge almost got stuck in my throat.
“The Chemical University of Innovative and New Poisons,” the bearded old man answered me in the most instructive tone. “And the Research Institute of HUYA is located in the Union. I know Elena Golovach very well, who is also a Master of Alchemy and has headed her institute since its founding in 1926. We meet every year to exchange experiences and share our scientific research.”
“Lena Golovach, head of the HUYA Research Institute, excellent.” I nodded stony-faced to myself, accompanied by the hysterical howls of my inner voice. “There are normal names in this strange world?!”
“Absolutely right, she’s an excellent specialist who truly loves her job.” The director smoothed his beard, waved the dishes back in place, and cleared the table. “Miss Hellsing, we’ve been chatting for too long, and it’s already late… Let me walk you to the living room.”
– Of course, Headmaster. – I stood up and headed for the exit, Dumbledore following me.
We walked calmly and leisurely through the castle at night. Now, in the moonlight and the occasional dim torches, it seemed even more majestic and somehow more cozy. Even the howling wind and the strong draft in the corridors didn’t spoil the atmosphere. Let’s not forget that it was late January, and the Scottish winter is quite harsh.
“Miss Hellsing, forgive an old man’s curiosity, but what did you see in the reflection of the Mirror of Erised?” About halfway through, the headmaster broke the silence that had fallen when we left his office. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to answer; often what you see is too personal.”
“I saw myself there, Professor.” I winked at myself, and then the Philosopher’s Stone was in my pocket. “And that’s the honest truth, he didn’t ask me what I saw there on my first try.”
I didn’t want to lie to the old man, and besides, from the moment I arrived, the director had been constantly touching my mind, not too hard, just enough to read superficial thought patterns, so I constantly maintained the most powerful shield I could muster. I wasn’t even offended by these actions; my own grandfather had always done the same. As Black explained, for a master of mental magic, such behavior is a professional habit.
“I’m very happy for you. They say this ancient artifact can reveal our deepest dreams and desires, but only a truly happy person will see themselves reflected in it.” Dumbledore nodded contentedly, and we continued our leisurely stroll.
“Miss Hellsing, I have one small request of you,” the professor spoke as we neared the common room. “The Philosopher’s Stone’s presence in this school is a closely guarded secret, so half the school already knows about it.” The old man chuckled into his beard. “However, I would still ask you to keep tonight’s nighttime stroll and our conversation a secret, at least from the other students.”
– Okay, Director. – I nodded understandingly. – And the mirror?
“Don’t worry, tomorrow I’ll move this rare artifact to a safe place. There’s no point in endangering curious minds; prolonged contact with the Mirror of Erised can drive one mad. And one more thing,” the Headmaster looked at me sternly, “Miss Hellsing, don’t wander around at night anymore, or I’ll be forced to confiscate your Invisibility Cloak. I’ll return it only just before the holidays. Is everything clear?”
– Yes, director.
“Then I wish you sweet dreams.” Dumbledore nodded politely at me. “Don’t miss reveille tomorrow.”
“Good night to you too,” I said after the departing wizard and turned towards the entrance to the living room.
Only now did I notice that all the living portraits around me were fast asleep; I had to kick the frame of the painting with the fat woman to make it stop snoring and let me inside.
Having already reached the bedroom, I silently walked to my bed and collapsed onto it without undressing. After shifting slightly, I turned my head and met tired but curious chocolate-colored eyes.
“I heard everything,” Hermione whispered quietly.
“Let’s discuss everything tomorrow?” I made a pitiful face, and at that moment Vasya hastily crawled out from under my robe and settled down on the pillow next to Flora, who immediately began babbling something solicitously and stroking the snake’s muzzle.
“Of course.” My friend leaned forward and hugged me tightly. “You scared me…”
– I’m sorry… – I hug Mia to me, I hear how quickly her heart beats and feel the warmth of her body.
“Tomorrow,” I received a slap on the butt, “you’ll answer for everything and tell me everything, you fucking saboteur. Good night.”
“Good night.” I buried my chin in my friend’s head and fell asleep immediately.
***
Friday flew by. After class, Hermione and I retreated to our base of operations and discussed our night’s adventure until dinner. I told my friend about the mirror and what I saw in it, but I didn’t mention my beloved’s name, simply describing his appearance. Hearing about the gun and my emotional outburst, Mia immediately reached for her protective gear. For the next half hour, they methodically beat me. I knew the girl needed to let off some steam, so I simply defended myself and dodged, but I still got hit a couple of times. When my friend ran out of steam, it was my turn to mock her, listing all of the Black One’s grandchildren and discussing which of them would be best suited to be her husband. Mia sat there red-faced, but she still admitted that my Soviet relatives were all handsome, and not lacking in intelligence, and the language barrier wasn’t a problem. We knew Russian quite well, and all the children of the Black family spoke English.
After the boys, we returned to discussing the stone, or rather, the fragment, the box containing it, which was currently stored in the armory of my suitcase. Ultimately, we decided to present this valuable artifact to my mother over the Easter holidays. They’re short, so I won’t have to sleep on my stomach for long, and by summer, my family will be gone. Having resolved and discussed all the pressing issues, we returned to the living room, where we spent a wonderful evening in the company of friends. As lights out approached, I noticed that Ron and Justin were very tense and thoughtful; at times, they wanted to talk to me about something, but someone kept interrupting us. But I decided not to ruin a quiet Friday evening; tomorrow was a day off, and if the matter was truly important, the boys would tell me everything. In the end, I enjoyed a wonderful, quiet evening, chatting peacefully with friends, especially since I had completed my main task at Hogwarts and didn’t care about the rest of the school’s problems. Even if the Death Eaters start storming the castle, or Hagrid drags in a real dragon from somewhere, I’ll just activate the emergency Portkey and head home for a hot bath. Speaking of which.
“Mia, how about a bath with essential oils?” I whispered to my friend, whose eyes immediately lit up.
We quickly said goodbye to everyone and headed to our room. The bathtub in my suitcase was more like a small swimming pool, which my friend and I could easily fit into. On that pleasant note, Friday came to an end.
***
Saturday started off well. After a morning workout and a hearty breakfast, I sat on the sofa with Elvira and Hermione, debating how to begin the long-awaited weekend. More specifically, where to continue my youngest vassal’s training: shooting first, then hand-to-hand combat, or vice versa? Our deliberations were interrupted by the serious-looking Weasleys and Finch-Fletchley.
“Girls, we have a problem,” Justin began.
“Hagrid got a real dragon!” Ron continued.
Damn… Who was pulling my tongue yesterday? Maybe I really should activate the Portkey? I glanced at the concerned guys, who had already become my friends, and sighed heavily.
– Tell me.
