Chapter 62
– And then the Miracle Phone rang… – I leaned back tiredly on the soft back of the sofa and, catching my breath, reached for a cup of hot tea, under the curious and impatient glances of my friends.
We’d been sitting at our base of operations for over an hour, discussing the events of the previous night. I couldn’t share what had happened with my friends yesterday, because as soon as I found myself in the empty, quiet common room, I called my mother. We talked with the blue-eyed blonde until almost the early morning, and I only went up to my bedroom when dawn was just breaking outside. After a quick shower and a few potions, I woke my friends and we went for some exercise. There, I swore I’d tell them everything, because otherwise, those enraged furies who promised to feed me dried apricots had discovered my weakness and were now brazenly exploiting it.
Luckily, during breakfast, the headmaster rose from his throne-like chair and announced that there would be no classes today, asking everyone to go to their common rooms. To all the students’ shouted questions, Dumbledore replied that he would provide details after lunch, once the DMLE staff had completed their investigation. These words only added fuel to the fire, especially since Potter and Longbottom were not at the table, which raised even more questions.
Our chatterboxes, represented by Brown and Patil, rushed toward me with sparkling eyes, but ran into Mia and Elvira. I don’t know what they saw on my friends’ faces, but the gossips swallowed nervously and retreated. They grabbed me by my white arms and practically dragged me up to the fifth floor, with Ron and Justin actively clearing the way for us. Arriving and settling comfortably at the table, I recounted to the guys in detail everything that had happened on the astronomy tower.
“Who was that?” Ron shifted impatiently in his chair. “Did Lady Hellsing somehow sense that you were in danger? My mother always told me…”
– Quiet down! – Justin nudged his friend in the shoulder and stared at me intently.
“It was my grandfather from the Union,” I said, lifting the sleeve of my robe and showing everyone the burn on my wrist. “After the assassination attempt, he sent Hermione and me Sneakoscopes and linked them to the family artifact. So if anything happened to us, he’d be the first to know.”
– Aaaah! We have almost the same one! – Ron gulped down a glass of pomegranate juice. – Our clock in the kitchen, well, you saw, every hand there…
“Ron, I’m going to shove a gag in your mouth right now,” Mia hissed at the redhead.
“Better that chocolate bar, the one with caramel,” Weasley smiled slyly and immediately caught the treat my friend threw at him.
– Well, what next? – The curly-haired witch turned to me nervously.
“When I saw angry Sergei with his glowing bright blue eyes, at first I was like, oh… Ahem, surprised, but then I quickly told him the latest events. You should have seen the deans’ faces, they were so happy it wasn’t Mom.” My friends exchanged cheerful glances, and I involuntarily stroked my lower ninety. “And when I finished, my grandfather smiled—I was scared myself then—and asked me to pass the phone to the director; it turns out they know each other!”
– And what did they talk about? – Smith grabbed my sleeve.
“I have no idea,” I shrugged. “Grandfather was yelling obscenities at him for the first minute, and then Dumbledore cast a privacy charm. They talked the whole way as we trooped to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey quickly treated my burn and attended to Potter and Longbottom. On the way out, the Headmaster returned the communication artifact to me and walked me to the common room. That was all.”
“And Lady Hellsing?” Justin looked into my eyes suspiciously.
“I called Mom as soon as I got into the living room; the girls were already asleep anyway.” I took my friends’ hands. “I didn’t want to wake them up…”
“We slept, of course, we just fell asleep after you left.” Mia squeezed my hand tightly. “I couldn’t sleep a wink until dawn, I had to take Valera apart and put him back together again to calm my nerves a little.”
“Mia, you understand I had to go alone.” The curly-haired girl exhaled and nodded in response. “Quirrell demanded me, otherwise he threatened to kill those little idiots. Besides, Dumbledore and Flitwick were covering for me, and who knows how that psycho would have behaved if we’d climbed the Astronomy Tower together. He tortured Potter with the Cruciatus, but he could have immediately launched the Avada at you!”
“I understand, that’s why I’m not upset. The headmaster wouldn’t have let me go anywhere anyway,” Hermione sighed heavily, “even though I swore to always be there.”
“Next time we’ll go against the Dark Lord together, I promise.” I smiled and hugged my friend.
Mia grinned contentedly and pulled me into her signature rib-cracking hug. I responded in kind, hugging my friend tightly. At that moment, Vasya emerged from my sleeve and, wrapping his arms around us, rested his face on my shoulder. Flora immediately settled on his head.
– Fucking bipeds, risking their lives for some bullshit… And anyway, what the fuck? Okay, Shaggy, but why didn’t you take me with you?! I’m fast and can be unnoticed, one bite and that rooster would have died in agony! – The snake butted me in the cheek. – Mistress, don’t do that again… Vasya is an honest sucker and is ready to go abroad.
“I’d say it was a coincidence,” Hermione said, getting up from the soft sofa and heading for the tea cabinet.
My friend deftly and expertly brewed a fresh, aromatic drink, and the boys quickly got out a new batch of chocolates and helped set out clean dishes. Our gathering paused again for tea. Enjoying the silence and pleasant company, I took a few sips of freshly brewed Earl Grey.
“Am I the only one who’s bothered by the fact that the Ministry doesn’t care about what happened?” Justin looked thoughtfully at everyone present. “If a terrorist had taken students hostage at my old school, there would have been such a fuss. Everyone would have arrived: SWAT, the police, the prosecutor’s office, and then a whole dark lord has risen from the dead and no one gives a damn!”
“I wouldn’t say that. Dumbledore warned me yesterday that I’d be questioned by DPM investigators today.” My friends turned their attention to me again. “Although I seriously doubt they’ll believe that Voldemort,” Ron shuddered, “has taken over Professor Quirrell’s body.”
“Everyone knows that Potter defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named almost ten years ago,” Weasley sighed sadly. “Dumbledore tried to convince everyone back then, even giving an interview in the Prophet, but they laughed at him and almost removed him from his post as Chief Warlock. And as for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, everyone’s already gotten used to it…”
– What do you mean, used to it? – Justin choked on his tea and looked questioningly at his friend. – Did they take students hostage before too?
“I don’t think so…” Ron scratched his head thoughtfully and looked at us. “But Dad told me that many years ago, You-Know-Who tried to get a job at Hogwarts as a Defense of the Dark Arts teacher, but Dumbledore turned him down, and then he cursed the position! Since then, the teachers have changed every year, and during that time, half of them have died, and the rest have become crippled. Fred said that at the end of last year, the Defense of the Dark Arts professor simply disappeared, and the year before that, a teacher fell down the stairs and died. The position is definitely cursed, and everyone’s gotten used to it.” The boy shrugged.
“What nonsense…” I reached for a cookie. “How can you curse a job? It’s impossible! I read…”
I was interrupted by a blue translucent phoenix that flew out of the wall, circled the room, and landed in front of me.
“Miss Hellsing, I await you in my office.” The Patronus began to speak in the Headmaster’s voice. “Today I prefer the nut dondurma.”
***
Amelia was the last adult member of the once large and numerous Bones family. Her entire family was killed by Voldemort for supporting Dumbledore and funding the Order of the Phoenix. The head of the DMLE might have hated the old man for this, but that evening, Death Eaters carried out a massive intimidation operation, simultaneously attacking seven families. The Bones family was ancient and part of the “Sacred 28,” and their ancestral manor was considered impregnable, so Dumbledore and his capable allies rushed to the aid of those whose homes were less secure.
On that cursed day, Amelia turned twenty-two. She had just started working as an investigator at the M.D., and her entire extended family gathered to celebrate this momentous occasion. Back then, the girl was proud of her heritage and family; she considered half-bloods, and especially Mudbloods, an inferior race. She couldn’t understand why her parents opposed the Dark Lord, for there was a grain of truth in his words.
However, that evening, her worldview changed. Three dozen Death Eaters appeared in front of their estate, led by HIM personally—a “pathetic half-breed,” as her grandfather called him. Her father then leisurely approached the window and, with a cheerful chuckle, said that this rabble would never be able to break through the estate’s defenses, but soon turned pale and ordered the evacuation of women and children. The problem was that the “pathetic half-breed” had calculated a powerful dark ritual in less than five minutes, and then, sacrificing seven of his slaves, activated it… The black beam easily pierced all the shields and demolished the left wing of the mansion, and then the carnage began…
Her grandfather and father were powerful mages; they killed a dozen Death Eaters, but when HE personally engaged them, they stood no chance. The head of the DMP still remembers his father’s screams as the curse of flesh rot consumed him. That was her first kill, but it wasn’t enough. The Dark Lord sent the scum of the Knockturn ahead, while he leisurely followed behind, killing those his slaves couldn’t handle. The emergency portkeys malfunctioned, and the Bones family was trapped.
The head of the family, along with the men and five mercenaries, fought at the entrance to the estate, while the women supported them from the upper floors. Amelia, along with her mother and sister, showered the Death Eaters with every known Dark spell, but soon, instead of the rabble from Knockturn, the elite—the Inner Circle—entered the fray. These bastards were purebloods and well-trained wizards. Her brother died first, then the “pathetic half-breed” personally cut off her grandfather’s head. The girl tried to help him and nearly lost an arm. Her grandmother dragged the bleeding Amelia to the nursery, where she handed the future head of the DMD a crying Susan and a Portkey-piercer linked to the spring beneath the house. Without further ado or long goodbyes, the eldest of the family activated the artifact, and the wounded girl and her terrified niece found themselves at St. Mungo’s. That day, Amelia swore revenge, because among the attackers, despite the masks, she recognized many; they went to the same school!
After burying her family, the girl threw herself into her work, doing everything to achieve her goal and advance her career. Thanks to her intelligence and tenacity, Amelia quickly rose through the ranks, soon earning a reputation as an honest and incorruptible investigator. Envious mongrels, who whispered behind her back that Bones had achieved everything thanks to her pretty face and work clothes, quickly found themselves in St. Mungo’s. Just five years later, Amelia became the head of the DPM, but disappointment awaited her; the position offered no real power. All her attempts to send former Death Eaters to prison were futile, so she began collecting dirt on these bastards and biding her time. Sooner or later, she would achieve her goal and arrange for these creatures to share a final kiss with a Dementor.
The Head of the DPM had received Dumbledore’s message that night, but since her department dealt with post-mortem crimes, she decided to take her time and arrived at Hogwarts at dawn. Especially since the perpetrator was already dead, and the Headmaster had promised to leave the crime scene undisturbed. Now, a pretty young woman with light-brown hair and aristocratic features sat on a soft sofa, leafing through a report the Chief Warlock had kindly prepared. Beside her, at his desk, the Headmaster, in his bright blue robes, sat leisurely sipping aromatic tea, only occasionally glancing at her guest.
“So you’re saying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has taken over Professor Quirrell’s body?” The Head of the DMP looked at the old man skeptically.
“Yes, Amelia, that’s exactly how it was.” The director set his cup down on the saucer and looked the woman in the eye. “You know perfectly well he’s alive, otherwise you would have allowed the minister to disband Augusta’s military wing long ago.”
“But that sounds too crazy,” Madam Bones shook the parchment. “No one will believe us!”
“I know, that’s why I prepared two reports: one for you and one for the ministry.” The old man sighed heavily and leaned back in his throne.
“Thank you for your candor.” Madam Bones put the parchment back in her robe pocket. “But how did you not notice an Infernal possessed by the spirit of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named right under your nose?”
“Firstly, there was no possession; this body contained only one soul, so the castle didn’t see it as a threat.” The director straightened up and looked sternly at his interlocutor. “Secondly, I noticed some odd behavior in the teacher right from the start and kept an eye on him, with Filius and Pomona helping me. Thirdly, he camouflaged himself very well, and none of the school staff noticed anything except me.”
“But how did he get around the contract with Hogwarts?” The woman leaned forward. “You hired him, didn’t you check his magical signature?”
“Of course I checked, and I still don’t understand how he managed to pull it off.” The old man levitated two parchments to the head of the DMP. “These are the payroll slips for April and May. Note Professor Quirrell’s signature; they’re slightly different. Minerva didn’t notice the trick back then, but I only noticed it today. I have no idea how he managed to do this without leaving the school.”
– Do what? – Madam Bones looked at the director in confusion.
“I always forget that today’s youth have little understanding of rituals…” Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “There are many Dark rituals that allow one to take over another’s body, so-called soul substitution. I described this in detail in your report.”
“Thank you.” The light-haired woman looked a little embarrassed. “But having noticed the teacher’s strange behavior, you should have…”
“Supposed to what?!” Dumbledore stood up and slammed his fists on the table. “I have a new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher every year, and every single one of them behaves strangely! Last year, Professor Ortega suggested that Miss Black transfer the extra classes to the horizontal plane. The idiot even asked her out on a date and rented a room in Madam Proudfoot’s café, where he was tortured for a long time and then killed! Three years ago, Professor Nelson decided that the stones in the house clocks were precious and decided to steal them at the end of June. That morning, the idiot was found dead, showered with colored glass, killing him! Before that, Professor Lewis got drunk with Hagrid and went into the Forbidden Forest after some Dementor, and we never found his body.” The Headmaster rummaged through a stack of documents and pulled out a yellowed sheet of parchment. “Or, my favorite, in 1984, Professor Fisher insulted Professor Flitwick at the beginning of the school year by saying that any loser could become a Charms Master, all he had to do was come up with another useless spell. He worked quietly all year, and then at the end of June, he disappeared without a trace. Should I continue? You know I spend most of the summer looking for the next idiot to take over this job!”
“So it’s true?” Madam Bones looked at the Supreme Warlock in surprise. “But how can you curse a position? It’s impossible!”
“I know! I know perfectly well that this sounds like complete nonsense, especially since neither I nor the Unspeakables found any traces of the curse.” The old man left the table and began pacing leisurely around the office. “But the facts speak for themselves; I’m starting to believe this nonsense myself!”
– Have you tried renaming the object? – The woman tilted her head to the side.
“Amelia, my dear,” the old man shook his head paternally and smiled into his beard, while the head of the DMP grimaced. “I first filed a petition for this twenty-five years ago, and then there were sixteen more attempts, but the Education Department is busy deciding which other subjects to ban and how much further the curriculum can be cut, and I don’t have those rights.”
“I see…” The woman was interrupted by the wall clock striking ten in the morning. “And who will be present during Miss Hellsing’s interrogation? Will the Platinum Bitch really come to the school in person?”
“She’s busy with government affairs right now and will send a family representative.” The director returned to his seat and reached for the teapot. “More tea?”
Amelia stood up and, having cleaned the cup, placed it on the table, but she was distracted by a bright green flash, and Sirius Black proudly emerged from the fireplace. He stepped aside and, with a flourish, drew his wand and cleaned himself of soot. Then the tall, blue-eyed handsome man squared his shoulders and, with a haughty smile, addressed the wizards seated in the office.
“Director, Amelia.” Without asking permission, the man sat down on the sofa next to the woman. “Albus, what I wanted to ask was, how come…”
Sirius was interrupted by another flash of light. A short, slender girl of about twenty emerged from the fireplace, her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, and a dark green, fitted robe that only accentuated her athletic figure. A playful smile played across her sweet, doll-like face, but anger and fury seethed in her cold brown eyes. Under this “young girl’s” gaze, Sirius immediately jumped up from the sofa and gave a welcoming half-bow.
“Hello, Augusta, nice to see you.” Dumbledore nodded politely to his guest. “Please, have a seat.”
Madam Longbottom nodded curtly to everyone present and took a seat next to the head of the DPM, glaring at the headmaster. Amelia immediately handed her loyal subordinate the “real” report of what had happened, while Sirius politely stepped aside and took a chair near the wall. The office door opened silently, and Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom gloomily entered the bright room, the Head of Gryffindor standing behind them. At the sight of the children, Augusta and Sirius rose and rushed toward them almost simultaneously. Only when they held the children tightly did the adults relax and calm down a little, and the tension in the office began to subside.
“Albus, I couldn’t find Miss Hellsing anywhere.” While the first years were whispering with their relatives, McGonagall approached the headmaster. “Are you sure she’s still at school?”
“Don’t worry, Minerva, I’ll invite the girl now.” Dumbledore smiled into his beard and, waving his wand, cast the Patronus Charm.
While the director was whispering a voicemail, the fireplace flared up again, and another guest tumbled out. A beautiful girl with blue eyes and golden hair sat on the rug in front of the fireplace. Her very short, dark red skirt had ridden up slightly, giving everyone present a full view of her slender legs and black lace panties. Augusta pursed her lips and covered her grandson’s eyes with her hand, preventing him from watching such debauchery. A lewd smile appeared on Sirius’s face, and, completely oblivious to his godson, he began greedily devouring the guest with his eyes. Besides the short skirt, the girl was wearing a tight-fitting, dark red jacket, and the top buttons were undone, barely covering her enormous, firm breasts, which threatened to burst forth with every movement of this beauty.
“Only a psycho could come up with such a method of transportation.” The guest muttered under her breath and nimbly jumped to her feet, Black’s head bobbing in time with his ample chest. “Hello everyone, where’s my little sister?”
***
I had barely entered the headmaster’s office when I found myself in the vampire’s clutches. With a loud squeal, she pressed me to her enormous chest and began to squeeze me, purring like a cat. When, about five minutes later, I was able to break free and take a deep breath, I looked around at everyone present. Across the room, a slightly pale Dumbledore sat at his desk, nervously fiddling with his wand. Next to him, on the sofa, sat a short woman who looked very much like Dana Scully; even her fitted robe was somewhat reminiscent of an FBI agent’s signature trench coat. I really wanted to ask her where Mulder had disappeared to, but I bit my tongue just in time. The DPM agent was watching the headmaster with obvious interest and periodically casting disdainful glances at Sirius. If the flea-bitten one hadn’t kept his hands in plain sight, I would have thought he was fiddling with his wand, too, just not his magic one. Black’s face was lecherous and hungry, his eyes literally devouring Victoria, swallowing drool. The noble wizard was clearly thinking with his head, not his head. How could he be such a horny idiot?! A young girl sat next to “Scully” and looked at my nanny with such a disapproving expression, as if she were the living embodiment of sin and vice, come here to seduce Harry and Neville, who stood nearby with stupid expressions.
When everyone had finally calmed down and settled comfortably into their chairs and armchairs, Madam Bones, as “Scully” introduced herself, pulled out a stack of parchment and a quill. Over the next hour, Potter and Longbottom told the head of the DPM the story of their heroic attempt to save the Philosopher’s Stone from the evil and treacherous Filch, Voldemort’s part-time henchman. My brother also detailed his discovery during his evening stroll through Hogwarts: the Mirror of Erised.
When the two heroes finished their story, a veritable circus of absurdity erupted in the headmaster’s office. Even Sirius briefly forgot about Victoria and began yelling at Dumbledore, spitting spittle. Neville’s grandmother demanded that the Philosopher’s Stone be immediately produced and given to those in need, including herself, of course. Black accused the old man of negligence, since his godson had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse, and demanded that he immediately commit ritual suicide by jumping from the Astronomy Tower. Scully—pardon me, Madam Bones—sat silently in her seat, writing down every word spoken in the office. Victoria and I, hugging each other, sat to the side and watched this spectacle; I even regretted not having brought popcorn. What was happening reminded me of the State Duma debates in the early 1990s, when one deputy loudly called everyone scum and prostitutes, while the others threw punches at each other and doused each other with water from pitchers. The old man’s composure lasted about twenty minutes, after which he stood up and crushed everyone with magic, even casting a wandless Silencio on the guests.
“Quiet!” Dumbledore slammed his palm on the table. “My patience is not limitless, and you have clearly crossed all boundaries! I am not a boy for you to raise your voice at me and demand things.” The Headmaster waved his hand and the parchment in Madam Bones’s hands crumbled to dust. “Amelia, what I say next is off the record.”
Augusta and Sirius silently sat down and hugged their children. Now, standing before them was not a quirky old man, but a great wizard, furious. He looked much the same as he had that night when the Scum had escaped from under his nose.
“Do you even realize that your spoiled brats have ruined a plan I’ve been preparing for years?!” Dumbledore glared at his guests. “If two first-years hadn’t broken school rules last night and stayed in their beds, Voldemort would have been completely defeated!”
– How? – Augusta asked and slapped Neville on the back of the head.
“The Philosopher’s Stone was real and was just bait. I knew from the start that Professor Quirrell was the Dark Lord’s servant and I kept a close eye on him all year.” The Headmaster took a breath. “The Stone was hidden in the Mirror of Erised and my goal was to lead Voldemort to it.”
“I don’t understand, how…” Sirius began, but Madame Longbottom interrupted him.
“So it would absorb that bastard’s soul.” The young woman gave her grandson another slap and glared at Black. “Tom is paranoid and psychotic; he would never have trusted his servant with such a valuable artifact, so he would have gone after it personally. The Mirror feeds on magic and life energy, and judging by the signs of decomposition, the body rejected the invader’s soul.” Augusta tapped the folder with the “real” report. “The ancient artifact would have sucked the Dark Lord into itself…”
“Or at least weakened him to the state of a small, harmless spirit.” Dumbledore looked expectantly at Augusta and Amelia. “Now do you understand why I left Professor Quirrell alone? But thanks to your children, the Dark Lord escaped, and now only Merlin knows where he went.”
– And the philosopher’s stone? – Madam Longbottom still did not calm down.
“It belongs to Nicholas Flamel, and I will return it to its rightful owner shortly.” The gray-haired wizard sat down on his throne. “Augusta, take my word for it, you have no need of this legendary artifact. Unfortunately, I can’t say more.”
“Mr. Chief Warlock, don’t you think it’s incredibly irresponsible to keep such an artifact in a school full of children?” The Head of the D.M.P. leaned forward. “What if treasure hunters descended on Hogwarts?”
“All the Philosopher’s Stone hunters have long since disappeared, and no one wants Flamel as an enemy.” Dumbledore smiled wryly. “Amelia, my dear, not long ago, a squad of mercenaries infiltrated the Ministry of Magic and tried to break down the door to the head of the Ministry of Magic’s office, killing your secretary and six investigators in the process. There would have been more casualties, but Augusta’s men arrived just in time. Could you tell us what they were looking for?”
“I have no idea,” the light-haired woman answered dryly. “This is my office, and I have the right to keep whatever I want there.”
“You just answered your own question.” The gray-haired wizard leaned back in his throne and stroked his beard contentedly. “Amelia, you haven’t questioned Miss Hellsing yet. We’re not going to sit here all day, are we? We might as well skip lunch.”
After the director’s words, everyone’s eyes turned to me, except Sirius. That idiot, swallowing his saliva, continued to stare lustfully at Victoria. Under such intense scrutiny, I quickly and thoroughly recounted the events of the night, even having to show off the gun. Neville’s grandmother started to get indignant and demand that such a dangerous artifact be confiscated from me, but after I pulled a stack of permits from my bag, she shut up, only occasionally glancing thoughtfully at me.
“So, since we’re done, I’d like to make a couple more announcements,” Dumbledore began speaking after I signed the protocol. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, for gross and systematic violation of school rules, I am deducting one hundred points from each of you and assigning you detention with Mr. Filch for the rest of your second year. And also,” the old man looked seriously at Black. “Sirius, my boy, if your godson brings the Invisibility Cloak into school again, I will confiscate it, as I have every right to do, and will return the family heirloom only at the end of the year. Is that clear?”
Flea-bitten patted Harry sympathetically on the shoulder and winked slyly, but Augusta was ready to spank her grandson right then and there, poor Neville hunched his head into his shoulders and was afraid to move.
“I’m not finished.” The principal looked at me. “Miss Hellsing, you risked your life to save your classmates from a mad dark wizard. For your bravery and self-sacrifice, I award you the medal ‘For Special Services to the School’!”
Dumbledore rummaged through his top desk drawer and pulled out a small red velvet box, which he levitated into my hands. Inside was a gold medal with the Hogwarts crest on one side and my name on the other. I ran my finger over the decoration and closed the box with a satisfied smile. It was a small thing, but a nice touch.
“The plaque will appear in the awards hall next week.” The director winked at me, and I nodded gratefully in response. “I suggest we conclude here. I believe Madam Bones has received all the necessary information and the investigation can be considered closed.”
“Yes, Lord Supreme Sorcerer.” The DPM agent rose smoothly from the sofa. “I’ll send you a copy of the file this evening.”
Madam Bones was the first to bow to everyone and exit the Headmaster’s domain through the fireplace. Augusta Longbottom followed, giving her grandson a sound slap and a disapproving look at the vampire. Sirius was the last to leave, unable to say goodbye to his godson and leave quietly.
“Hey, beauty, maybe we should get to know each other better?” Flea-bitten stood near the fireplace with a satisfied grin and played with the magic wand he held in his right hand.
“Sorry, dear,” Victoria smiled slyly in response. “I’m a predator and I don’t feed on just any carrion, so you don’t stand a chance.”
“You just don’t know what a true pureblood wizard is capable of!” Black squared his shoulders proudly. “You won’t want to leave me later.”
“Carrion, if you don’t shut up right now, you’re going to be in a lot of pain.” The vampire’s smile changed from sly to predatory.
“If it’s about money, I’ll pay you five hundred Galleons if you babysit me for one night and indulge Sirius Jr.,” the black-haired wizard broke into a lewd smile. “I’m sure those worthless ones you had before… Aaaah!”
The vampiress was instantly in front of the lustful idiot and gripped his right hand, which held his wand, tightly, with a crunch of breaking bones. My nanny looked into Black’s eyes with a satisfied smile and, with an open palm, struck him in the gut, then twisted and lifted his right arm, which she refused to let go of. A gasping Sirius found himself pinned in a swallow pose. The enraged, golden-haired girl grabbed his right hand by the wrist and snatched the wand from the broken fingers of the noble, but not very intelligent, wizard.
“I promised you it would hurt a lot, didn’t I?” Victoria hissed into Black’s ear as he whined in pain. “Now don’t be offended, pureblood wizard.”
The girl dramatically twirled his concentrator between her fingers, and then the headmaster’s office echoed with an inhuman scream of pain and suffering as the vampire slammed the wooden wand into the lustful idiot’s anus. Sirius’s wand was long, about a foot long, and knotted, so when the girl released him, he grabbed the wooden tip protruding from his backside with his whole hand and tried to pull it out. Victoria shrugged and kicked the groaning lout with the heel of her combat boot, completely swallowing the wand.
“Next time I’ll just gut you.” The vampiress gave the groaning wizard a kick and turned to me with a satisfied smile. “Don’t be bored, little sister, I’ll see you soon.”
As soon as Victoria vanished in green flame, a terrified Potter ran up to Black and tried to flip him over. I was distracted from this scene by a pop—Dumbledore performing the famous hand-to-face gesture.
“Minerva, my dear, escort Mr. Black to the hospital wing.” I only just now noticed McGonagall; it turns out she’d been standing silently behind the headmaster the whole time. “Mr. Potter, you may escort your godfather. Miss Hellsing, Mr. Longbottom, please proceed to the common room.”
The message was crystal clear, and without waiting for the others, I left the bright and cozy director’s office. Stepping out into the hallway, I took out my earpiece and headed to my friends, who were waiting for me at our base of operations.
***
Alone in his office, Albus waved his wand, casting a spell on the former headmasters’ portraits, and slammed his fist down on the desk. The sturdy wood couldn’t withstand the abuse and cracked.
“Mordred! Fawkes, why am I surrounded by idiots?!” Dumbledore turned to his familiar. “Just a little bit more and Tom would have been in my hands! The plan was perfect, but thanks to two spoiled brats, everything went down the drain! Maybe we should bring back corporal punishment?”
– Kurlyk! – answered the fire bird.
“Yes, you’re right.” The wizard stepped out from behind the broken table. “We should have confiscated that damned robe immediately, it hides the boy from the castle’s surveillance systems! The little idiot!” A small fireball appeared above Albus’s palm. “I could have captured Tom and kept him for as long as I needed! And when the Chosen One was ready, like everything else, I would have arranged for Tom to ‘escape,’ and now…”
The great wizard’s jaw tightened and he considered where to launch the fireball: on one side he was surrounded by magical portraits, on the other by his personal library and collection of artifacts. Albus exhaled through his teeth and, with his free hand, opened a 14th-century stained-glass window. The projectile flew out into the street and exploded high in the sky. With a heavy sigh, the sorcerer returned to his place and repaired the broken table.
“Next year, Minerva will need to reduce her workload.” Dumbledore glanced at the payroll again. “That lunatic could have killed the children, all because of my arrogance and pride. At least the girl didn’t screw up; Platinum Bitch and Sergei trained her well, but now we need to be doubly careful. The Black One will be worse than that crazy Dark Lord…”
Albus sighed heavily and looked at his watch; there was just under an hour until lunch, so he still had time to clear out some of the accumulated bureaucratic hell…
– Dya! – the little fairy squeaked, placing her tiny hands on her hips and even stamping her foot. – Mama, Ri! – The little one’s vocabulary is still small, so she folded her palms into the shape of a heart.
“By the way, how did Quirrell take Potter and Longbottom hostage?” Justin interrupted our hug. “He definitely didn’t go into the common room.”
“It’s pure idiocy.” I pulled away from my friend. “Those idiots were standing under the Invisibility Cloak, guarding the entrance to Filch’s closet. Quirrell was also under a Disillusionment Charm, so they ended up crashing into each other in the middle of the corridor, and then the crazy professor decided to take advantage of his new induction.”
