Chapter 81
The Headmaster’s office greeted me with a cozy dimness, a pleasant silence, and the steady crackling of the fireplace. Emerging from behind McGonagall, who had remained silent the entire way, I spotted the grim-faced occupant of the office and a couple of “respected” guests, at the sight of whom I immediately realized Potter was the cause. Apparently, the bastard had complained to his family, and the older generation had shown up to sort things out. I nodded to myself and adjusted the Wonderphone in my pocket. On the way, I’d called my mother and put the device on speakerphone. They had no right to make any accusations against me right now, since I was without parents or a family representative. So, they’d summoned me for some kind of conversation, but I really didn’t like the looks on everyone’s faces; my hand was itching to reach for the butt of my machine gun.
Dumbledore sat in his throne-like chair, looking at me with a disapproving, even disappointed expression. Empathy told me the old man was extremely worried and agitated, while the guests were downright furious, though they kept their expressions straight. Speaking of which: a dark-haired, brown-eyed woman of about forty sat proudly in one of the chairs, her shoulders squared, and next to her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man in his early fifties, also dark-haired, but his hair was noticeably streaked with gray. I couldn’t help but recognize Walburga and Orion Black, and the reason for their visit couldn’t be clearer—Harry was still chilling in the hospital wing. But I was completely calm; my brother had acted like a complete bastard, and I was within my rights.
“Good evening, Director.” I nodded politely to the venerable old man, brazenly ignoring the older Blacks who were trying to burn a hole in me with their eyes. “Did you call?”
“Good morning, Miss Hellsing,” Dumbledore leaned his elbows on the table and looked at me thoughtfully, then continued sadly. “Alas, this evening, like the day, cannot be called kind.”
– Did something happen? – I smiled sweetly in response.
“Miss Hellsing, where does all this cruelty come from?” The director ignored my question. “Especially towards your own brother.”
– What do you mean? – My eyes widened. – Or are you talking about our conversation yesterday?
“Exactly, but that brutal beating can’t really be called a conversation.” The Headmaster sighed heavily. “You overdid it this time. Due to his multiple injuries, your brother had to be magically induced and rushed to St. Mungo’s. You also knocked out his eye, and now the best Healers are trying to grow a new one. The prognosis is bleak: fifty-fifty, and in addition to the eyeball, you’ve damaged Mr. Potter’s skull and brain.”
– Does he have a brain? – I made the most surprised face.
“How dare you…” Walburga hissed angrily, but Orion put his hand on her shoulder, and the woman fell silent, continuing to glare at me with hatred.
“The mediwizards confirmed it,” Dumbledore smiled thinly. “Your brother has a severe concussion, as if he’d been hit over the head with a sledgehammer.”
“I didn’t have any at hand, so I had to use improvised means.” I smiled guiltily and lowered my head.
It turns out I smashed the bespectacled boy’s nightstand over his head—at least that’s what Ron and Justin told me. The boys were baffled all morning by how I managed to lift that oak thing with one hand and then bring it down on Potter’s head with such force. The impact was so powerful that everyone present was cut by the flying splinters, and I don’t even remember it!
“Stop clowning around!” Orion barked, tightening his grip on his wife’s shoulder. “You almost beat our grandson to death! And he’s your brother, by the way! Do you even realize what you’ve done? You stupid girl!”
“Don’t raise your voice at me…” I hissed angrily from under my brows at the elder Black. “Next time I’ll see it through.”
“Don’t you dare threaten my grandson!” Walburga jumped up and pointed her wand at me, and in response, I snatched my trusty MP5 loaded with Dagworth ammo from under my robes.
The magic around me thickened, and I was forcefully pushed into a soft chair that appeared behind me, just like the elder Black, only the director also disarmed her.
“I suggest we all calm down and have some tea.” Dumbledore smiled sweetly and looked around at everyone present, but my empathy told me he was furious. “We’re here to talk, not to fight.”
The old man pulled a wand from his sleeve, and soon a set tea table appeared before me, even a bowl of sweets. The Blacks had something stronger on the table, but they preferred the contents of the teapot. We sat in silence for about ten minutes, enjoying freshly brewed Earl Grey; I also ordered a bowl of delicious sweets.
“So, I suggest we start over.” The Headmaster placed his empty cup on the table. “Miss Hellsing, the Black family accuses you of the attempted murder of the only heir of the Potter family. They will file a formal complaint with the D.M.P. tomorrow. This is a very serious accusation, and considering the fact that Harry is still at St. Mungo’s, where the doctors are fighting for his life…”
“Let him be grateful he’s still alive. I had every right to do so.” I looked the director stubbornly in the eye. Sure, I could have shown him the Holy Knight’s sign and sent everyone packing, but why show off your trump card too soon?
“That scum needs to rot in Azkaban!” Walburga exclaimed, earning a poke in the side from her husband.
“Miss Hellsing, I asked Orion to hold off on making his statement until the full circumstances of what happened are clarified.” The elder looked at me carefully. “Rigel, why did you so cruelly beat your own and only brother?”
Everyone’s gazes turned to me, and I decided to tell it all, even show it, since I’d already stumbled upon the Pensieve. So what? I’m being accused of attempting to murder the Chosen One, so let them see what a piece of shit he really is.
“Headmaster, may I have the memory vial?” I pulled my wand from its sheath. “Mr. Potter committed an act worthy of a blood traitor, and he paid for it. And let him be thankful that I didn’t hang him on an aspen tree for his deed of Judas.”
“Even so…” the old man muttered thoughtfully. “I’d like to know the details.”
A crystal phial flew into my hands, and a huge cast-iron cauldron landed in the center of the spacious office. After my words, the eyes of those present turned from haters to interested ones; even McGonagall looked at me with obvious relief. We’ll see what happens after watching the wizarding movie.
I’d been studying Occlumency since early childhood; I’d soon be an apprentice in mind magic, but such manipulations still proved to be extremely difficult. By concentrating, I managed to gather the necessary memories onto the tip of my wand and dipped the silver thread into the crystal vial.
Now the director and my brother’s family will see how I overheard the conversation of the would-be raiders and their confessions after the torture. I hope they won’t ask why three seniors are shaking with fear and kneeling before me. This manipulation left me with a severe headache and streams of sweat down my face and neck. I’d only performed a similar stunt once before, and that was in the summer, under the supervision of an experienced mentor at Black Star, and I even threw up. But it was worth it; a thousand words are worth a phial of memories.
Dumbledore surprised me. Seeing my state, he approached me and, holding out a white handkerchief, took my memories, casting diagnostic spells on me without asking. After confirming I was fine and pouring me another cup of hot tea, the headmaster headed for the Pensieve. The others had already gathered nearby, burning with impatience, casting rather thoughtful glances at me.
I watched with a smile as the esteemed wizards collectively assumed the “drinking deer” pose, lowered their heads into the cast-iron cauldron, and shifted from foot to foot, looking at something. Resisting the urge to give Walburga a good kick, I poured myself another cup of tea and telekinetically summoned a vase of lemon wedges from the director’s desk. They were delicious.
For about fifteen minutes, I sat in silence, comfortably settled in a soft chair, sipping delicious tea. Staring at the backsides of respected wizards was boring, so I began to examine the office’s furnishings. Looking around, I noticed that all the occupants of the living portraits were fast asleep, which meant there was a special spell. Making a note in my notebook, I continued exploring the director’s domain, and after examining the strange artifacts, my gaze fell on the bookshelves. There were plenty of interesting and forbidden items there, but the wizarding film ended before my gaze caught anything interesting.
Emerging from the cast-iron cauldron, everyone looked at me completely differently, with something like respect. Their emotional state had also changed: Dumbledore relaxed and calmed down, McGonagall felt proud and gloating, while Blackie clearly looked disappointed and embarrassed. The wizards silently returned to their seats and, pouring themselves something stronger, sat in silence for a couple of minutes.
“Miss Hellsing, are you aware that using an Unforgivable Curse on a pureblood wizard carries a life sentence in the lower levels of Azkaban?” The Headmaster finished his strong tea and leaned forward to look me in the eye. “Last night, Professor Lockhart found three students beaten, but they flatly refused to reveal who tortured them with the Unforgivable Curse and shoved wands up their anuses. Please note, Madam Pomfrey has recorded the diagnostic results in the students’ records.”
“I don’t know Crucio,” I answered honestly, shrugging.
– What was that? – Disbelief appeared on the director’s face. – Our healer couldn’t have been mistaken.
“Sancta Gratia, or Holy Grace.” Everyone present winced, and I looked at the pale wizards in bewilderment. “It’s just a light version of Crucio. I came across it in the family library. It’s quite easy…”
“Mordred…” Orion said, taking a swig from the bottle. “That’s all I need…”
“Agreed,” Dumbledore replied, draining his glass in one gulp. “Miss Hellsing, this curse is far more painful than Crucio and far more dangerous…”
– What do you mean? – My face stretched in surprise. – It’s not on the banned list, I checked!
“This curse isn’t on the list of forbidden ones because only select clergy can use it.” The old man fumbled for the bottle and poured himself a full glass. “It uses Faith magic or Divine energy, do you understand now?”
– It seems so… – Only now did it dawn on me that I am an apostle, because I sincerely believe, and the image of a glowing crucifix on my hand suddenly popped into my head.
“And one more thing,” Dumbledore drained his glass. “A wand is a magical object, so the injuries you caused cannot be treated with traditional means. Please refrain from doing anything like that in the future…”
“They should be grateful I didn’t impale them!” I stood up in outrage. “Those bastards were planning to violate me, and at Potter’s request, no less! I had every right to kill them!”
– Miss Hellsing, they are just teenagers…
“The girl did the right thing! We should have finished off the bastards!” Dumbledore was interrupted by the head of the Black family, whose eyes glowed blue. “They got off easy. I would have demanded a ransom from the families of those bastards!”
“Orion, she tortured pureblood wizards and then beat Harry.” Walburga looked reproachfully at her husband. “Our grandson is still in St. Mungo’s!”
“Serves him right!” The wizard straightened his shoulders. “He acted like a blood traitor and got off easy, too. And as for those three, remember Bellatrix in sixth year.”
“That’s something completely different!” the woman began to choke with indignation. “Then Bella killed the scoundrels who were trying to take the virginity of a representative of the most ancient and pure-blooded family!”
“It’s the same thing!” The man squeezed his wife’s shoulder tighter. “They’ve attacked a member of our family!”
“Actually, I’m Hellsing.” My voice interrupted the Black couple’s bickering.
“Call yourself what you want, girl, but our blood flows through you. I can see it and feel it.” Orion looked at me with a fatherly smile. “Rigel, you acted like a true Black, I’m proud of you!”
“Thank you.” I nodded in response. I really do have Black blood in me, so why deny it?
– Orion? – The woman looked at her husband indignantly. – What about Harry?
“Val, thank you for reminding me.” The man turned his gaze to Dumbledore. “Albus, after his recovery, Mr. Potter will be staying home for a while; he’ll be undergoing some educational activities.”
“No more than three weeks,” the Director wrote a note on a piece of parchment with a smile and looked at the elder Black. “There won’t be an official statement to the DMP?”
“That’s right, Albus, I won’t bring shame on the family.” The man straightened up and looked at me. “Miss Hellsing, on behalf of the Black family, I offer you my sincere apologies for Mr. Potter’s behavior. From now on, I will personally oversee his upbringing.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Walburga jumped up from her chair. “Harry’s like a son to me! He’s the spitting image of Sirius, and I won’t allow…”
“Shut up!” Orion gave his wife a good slap, and she sank into a chair. “Yesterday he betrayed his own sister, and tomorrow he’ll set up Vega or Cassiopeia?! I didn’t interfere with the children’s upbringing, but my patience has run out! I’ll make a true Black out of him.”
– Hmm… – The director interrupted the family squabble, – Orion, are we disturbing you?
“Sorry, Albus, we’re leaving now.” The man grabbed his wife by the hair and threw her into the fireplace. “Our family has no complaints against Miss Hellsing.”
“That’s good to hear.” The director visibly relaxed in his chair. “Goodbye.”
“See you at the Wizengamot, Miss Hellsing.” The head of the Black family nodded to me and sent his wife home through the fireplace, and then flew away himself.
“I think further conversation is unnecessary.” The Headmaster smiled and nodded to his deputy. “Miss Hellsing, Professor McGonagall will show you to the common room. Good night.”
“Good night, Headmaster.” I nodded in response and, accompanied by McGonagall, headed to the common room. I still needed to discuss everything with my mother and Hermione.
***
Harry Potter lay on his stomach, reading a tedious book called the Black Family Codex, which Grandfather Orion had ordered him to memorize. He turned the page and stretched, immediately wincing at the pain in his back; the head of the family’s hand felt very heavy.
The Chosen One recalled yesterday’s beating and clenched his fists in anger. For what?! He’d only wanted to teach his sister a lesson; that traitor had become completely insolent! However, his family had a completely different opinion, and for two weeks now, Harry had been subjected to lectures and moralizing every day. Yesterday, his godfather had tried to intercede for him again, resulting in both of them being spanked again.
When Harry woke up in the hospital room, he thought a lot about revenge and hoped the Blacks would find justice for the traitor, but everything turned out quite the opposite. After recovering, he was sent home, not to Hogwarts. He was looking forward to a couple of weeks of extra vacation and fun with his godfather, but he was in for a huge disappointment.
As soon as the Chosen One emerged from the fireplace, Grandfather Orion grabbed him by the ear and led him to the family tapestry. The whole way, the nasty old man kept repeating the importance of family and the mark of a blood traitor. Now Harry knew the Black family tree by heart, and his knees had become familiar with peas. For the first few days, he tried to protest, screaming, crying, and even throwing tantrums, but, unlike his grandmother and godfather, Grandfather didn’t react. On the contrary, he was flogged for every such outburst, just like Padfoot, who tried to stand up for Pronglet. And all because of that damned traitor!
His family couldn’t care less that she nearly killed him and almost maimed him. Grandfather repeated every day that the most important thing in life is family. Orion was very upset by his attempt to teach his sister a lesson, but what did he know about that?!
That vile creature had betrayed him! Yes, that’s right, Rigel had betrayed not just Harry, but the entire Wizarding world! He’d never told anyone, but he remembered that night in the hospital wing vividly, the moment he and his sister were separated. From early childhood, he’d been told Rigel was dead, but it was a lie. He’d always known, felt, that she was alive, and he’d eagerly awaited their reunion.
When Harry was very young, he was awakened early in the morning by a terrible pain in his chest and the realization that his sister was in terrible pain. While the whole family fussed over the screaming boy, he tried to help his sister, tried to take her pain for himself, and he kept trying, even as the torment grew more and more intense. Soon, Harry lost consciousness, and when he awoke, he felt relief—his sister was alive, albeit in pain.
For the next few days, the boy experienced severe pain and weakness, but he tried to ease his sister’s suffering. He never told anyone about his relationship with his sister, not even Padfoot; it was his deepest secret. Harry was a very intelligent and inquisitive child, so even at an early age he realized that his relatives were simply using him. All it took was overhearing a few conversations discussing his future and the Potter family’s finances. The Blacks may have wanted his well-being, but the boy wanted to be in charge of his own life, not dance to someone else’s tune.
Harry thought long and hard, and an idea settled in his head about how to rid himself of the Black family’s influence—he simply had to kill them! Not all of them, of course, only the older generation, and then become head of the family himself. Or appoint Sirius; his godfather had always been on his side. So, from childhood, the boy carefully chose and raised his friends. For this reason, Nott and Zabini joined his group, cowardly and dim-witted as they were, but they obeyed him unquestioningly. Neville was more difficult; although loyal, he also liked to command, as long as a plate of delicious food appeared in front of him.
Harry listened to stories about the Dark Lord with bated breath, marveling at his accomplishments. How impressive! A penniless half-blood had managed to create a powerful organization and subjugate pureblood families! This wizard was free and unconcerned about the opinions of others, just as the young Potter had dreamed of. He even began planning his own Order of Freedom, and Rigel was to play a key role in it.
And who else but his own sister?! Potter couldn’t wait to enter Hogwarts and meet his true love. There, he would take charge of the Muggle-raised girl and teach her everything he knew. Harry would make her his right-hand woman, and she would obey him unquestioningly and give him sound advice. After all, she was his sister, so she couldn’t be stupid. Rigel was supposed to idolize him! And then, when they grew up, he would marry her!
So what? Ancient Roman emperors often married their sisters, so why should he be any worse? Orion and Walburga were also cousins, so the boy was confident in his choice. Besides, he’d dreamed of the troop of fighting Amazons that Tramp had talked about, and his sister would certainly have created something similar, but all his dreams had been dashed…
The summer before he entered Hogwarts, he woke up with a feeling of emptiness in his chest; he felt the thread connecting him to his sister snap! Harry was terrified and nearly depressed, as this could only mean one thing: his sister was dead. For several days afterward, he didn’t leave his room and hardly spoke to anyone; he was in great pain and grief. He had so longed for this meeting, so dreamed of Rigel throwing her arms around his neck and him hugging her back.
Before the boy could recover from the loss, the Blacks stunned him with the “good” news of their engagement to Nymphadora. The Metamorphmagus was very beautiful and intelligent, but she would never listen to him, which infuriated the Chosen One, though he did not defy the Blacks’ will. It was just another name on the list of future victims; a magical engagement cannot be broken so easily. It was with this sense of disappointment that Harry set off for Hogwarts.
On the train, Potter acted as usual, his friends didn’t even notice his depressed state, and then he met her… At that moment, the puzzle in the Chosen One’s head fell into place, and he realized that his sister wasn’t dead – she’d done far worse! That damned scum had betrayed him! She’d broken their bond and become a Hellsing! It would have been better if she’d died! He’d waited so long, dreamed so much, hoped so much, and in the end, instead of a loyal and obedient sister, he got this…
Harry immediately hated the traitor, but decided to wait. Perhaps his conclusions were wrong, and in a few days she would beg for forgiveness. Then Potter would allow her to stand beside him, after swearing allegiance, of course. But here, too, disappointment awaited him. The scum had mastered magic perfectly, and even looked at him without admiration or adoration, and then even dared to hit him!
As a child, Harry often watched girls being spanked, a malicious smile always playing across his face, as he’d never been so much as touched. The traitor didn’t care; she even looked at him with disgust and revulsion, making the blow even more painful. Such feelings were new to Harry, as the Blacks indulged his every whim and caprice. The Chosen One always got everything he wanted. And since Rigel wasn’t his, she must die!
For this reason, he began to take a closer look at his sister, and first he wanted to humiliate and break the vile traitor. This scum had to pay for his pain and resentment. Last year hadn’t been the right moment, and besides, the fate of the Rowley family was fresh in his mind, but this year…
Harry watched with amusement as the traitor and her pet Mudblood beat up Dawlish. Little did the two fools know that this raven was very vengeful, which Harry decided to take advantage of, but in vain, as it turned out…
The Chosen One flinched and winced again in pain; his back hurt, too. The boy rubbed the sore spot and returned to his reading. Today, his grandfather would test him on the Codex, and tomorrow, he would send him to school, where Harry would “sincerely” apologize to his sister. This way, he would please his relatives and calm the traitor, and then, when she relaxed, he would strike. She would regret her betrayal! Potter imagined his bloodied little sister lying at his feet, begging for forgiveness, and a dreamy smile spread across his face.
“Master Harry, Master Orion wishes to see you.” The young Gryffindor was distracted from his fine thoughts by the appearance of a house-elf. “He awaits you in the small common room.”
“Thank you, Kreacher,” the boy began to slowly rise from the bed. “Tell him I’ll be there soon.”
– Certainly. – With a quiet pop, the proud brownie disappeared.
With a heavy sigh, Potter changed into a silk shirt and, putting on a mask of remorse and regret, went to his grandfather.
***
– Happy birthday! – I jumped into my best friend’s bed and started hugging her. – I wish you all the best!
– Rigel, let go… – Hermione began to kick sleepily.
– No way! – I hugged him even tighter.
“Girls, stop fooling around!” Elvira threw a pillow at us. “We’ll be late for exercise this way.”
– Happy birthday again! – I kissed Hermione on the nose and got out of bed. – The present will be in the evening.
“I’ll congratulate you this evening too.” Smith adjusted her tracksuit and headed to the restroom. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
“Thank you.” Mia yawned loudly and shook her head, causing her voluminous curls to become even more disheveled. “It’s a good thing it’s Saturday.”
– Exactly! Now we’ll have a quick workout and head home after breakfast! – I beamed with satisfaction. – And tomorrow is a full-fledged day off!
– What do you mean? – Hermione froze in place. – You have fencing with Lady Integra on Sundays.
“Nah, Mom has some important things to do, so tomorrow morning we’re going to Hogwarts and lazing around all day!” I looked at my shocked friend with a satisfied smile. “I don’t believe in such happiness myself.”
– Me too… – muttered my friend. – And what are we going to do tomorrow?
– We’ll think of something! – Holding hands, we set off for morning exercises.
I understand my friend perfectly; we’ve had almost no free time lately. After the showdown with the Blacks, there was a certain calm at Hogwarts; at least, our group was being avoided and left alone. And who would?
The Gryffindors, of course, eyed me for the lost points, but for the most part, no one cared. Potter was gone, so his gang kept quiet and out of sight. Dawlish and his gang spent four days in the hospital wing and are now afraid to even look in my direction. Chang is more difficult; the narrow-eyed slut glares at me with hatred, but remains very quiet. So my friends and I immersed ourselves in our studies, while not forgetting our training and the search for the Chamber of Secrets.
Time became desperately short, the professors started burying us in homework, and even Lockhart succumbed to the general mood and assigned mile-long essays. Then there were lessons with Flitwick, daily training at the operational base, gatherings in the library, and searching the women’s restrooms. By September 19th, we’d managed to search six meditation rooms, but, alas, so far without success. And there are also the men’s restrooms. I’m wondering if I should have involved Ron and Justin, or abandoned this silly endeavor.
After going down, I said hello to the boys, and we jogged out. Ron ran behind, broom in hand, the Quidditch tryouts looming ahead, and Ginger was simply dreaming of the game. So while we were running, the boy was circling in the sky, and in the evenings he flew a lot; Mia and I had joined him a couple of times. We enjoy flying, and we need to relax sometimes, otherwise, with all this busyness, you could go crazy.
After a good stretch and a hearty breakfast, I headed to McGonagall’s office with Hermione, Elvira, and Justin. The Head of House greeted us with a stern smile and silently waved toward the fireplace. A few moments later, we found ourselves in the Leaky Cauldron, hugging our relatives, and then headed off to visit the Grangers.
The celebration was a joyful and homely affair; we ate our fill of delicious treats and had a great time, and by evening the gift-giving began. Elvira presented the birthday girl with a homemade dreamcatcher, Finch-Fletchley, sheepishly, gave her an expensive silver watch, and I gave my friend an oblong black briefcase. Well, as soon as I’d given them, Victoria pulled a massive steel coffin from her shadow pocket and slammed it down on the floor. Mia threw back the lid of this contraption, began squealing loudly and jumping with joy, and then, her eyes glassy, pulled out her new toy.
“It’s the OM 50 Nemesis (Author’s note: a large-caliber sniper rifle, made in Switzerland), the second modification…” Hermione whispered and unfolded the butt. “It’s beautiful…”
“Of course! This beauty was made in Switzerland and finished in the Empire.” Victoria straightened her shoulders proudly. “The best artificers worked so my sister’s friend could shoot comfortably.”
Mia had already lost all hearing; she’d inserted a loaded magazine and was busily fiddling with the scope, periodically caressing the enormous barrel, inscribed with a complex runic design. Having finished, the birthday girl silently headed out into the backyard, eager to fire a few test shots. We initially followed her, but with my mother’s permission, Victoria quickly took everyone to the firing range, where Mia fired a full fifty-round magazine, magically extended. When her gentle soul was finally satisfied, we returned to the Grangers’ house, where we sat in warm company for about another hour. But Hermione had already missed her family, and I was eager to get home, so that was the end of the wonderful celebration.
At the estate, tired but content, we wandered off to our rooms, and I spent the rest of the evening lounging on the couch in front of the TV, indulging in sinful laziness. Mom arrived as I was comfortably settled on the bed, reading one of Lockhart’s books. A platinum blonde in her usual silk robe sat down next to me and handed me a thick gray envelope.
“Our lawyers have checked the apprentice contract, everything is in order. I also contacted Dumbledore, and he confirmed Professor Prince’s intention to take on apprentices.” Mom smiled cheerfully. “Your friend can sign, the money will be deposited in the Potions Master’s vault tomorrow.”
– Thank you. – I put the envelope in my bag. – I still don’t understand why the Prince chose her?
“It’s simple, the professor was ordered to have a Muggle-born as the second student.” Integra shrugged. “And where will they get that much gold?”
“What a cunning bastard!” I couldn’t help but admire the greedy, big-nosed freak. “He knew I’d pay for my friend, especially since 5,000 Galleons isn’t that much of a sum for us.”
– You see how simple it is. – Mom ruffled my hair. – Now tell me, how are your lessons with Professor Flitwick?
– I like it, at the last lesson he…
Our conversation dragged on until late into the night, when my tongue began to slur, Mom wished me goodnight and left. After seeing my loved one off, I almost instantly drifted off to the kingdom of Morpheus…
***
– Maybe to the library? – I lazily studied the ceiling of the living room, we returned to Hogwarts an hour ago and, unaccustomed to it, were exhausted from boredom.
“No, we agreed there would be no studying today!” Mia threw a crumpled piece of paper at me and settled more comfortably into the soft chair.
“I think Weasley was going somewhere today…” Elvira muttered sleepily. “Just a little while and I’ll go to bed.”
– I’m with you. – My best friend yawned loudly. – And after lunch we’ll play Monopoly.
– Great idea! – I crumpled the paper ball tighter and started to aim it at my friend, but I was distracted by Potter entering the living room.
My brother quickly looked around and, meeting my gaze, he lowered his head guiltily, then clenched his fists and headed in our direction.
– Rigel, can we talk? – Harry smiled guiltily. – Alone.
“I don’t have any secrets from my friends.” I stood up and looked down at the guy; thanks to the potions, I was almost a head taller than him. “I’m listening.”
“Rigel, I want to ask for forgiveness. I acted like a complete bastard.” The brother lowered his head guiltily. “Forgive me, it won’t happen again…”
“Okay,” I sat back down.
– What do you mean? – Potter looked into my eyes with disbelief. – You forgive me?
“Yes, I forgive you, but this is the last time.” I chuckled and leaned back in my chair. “Anything else?”
– Y-yes… – My brother even started to stutter. – I propose peace.
“Fine,” I shrugged. “You and your friends leave me and my friends alone, and we, in turn, will ignore your company as well.”
– Agreed! – Potter breathed a sigh of relief. – See you at lunch, sis.
Harry broke into a satisfied smile and quickly ran off to the boys’ dormitory, slapping a third-year boy on the back of the head along the way.
– Riya, why? – Hermione looked at me very thoughtfully.
“Because he’s a liar.” I smiled at my best friend. “He might be a good actor, but my empathy can’t be fooled.”
– And what did he feel? – Elvira leaned forward.
“Hatred and contempt, there was something else, but I couldn’t make it out.” I looked at my friends. “Let him think I believed in his repentance…”
“We’ll have to warn Ron and Justin,” Mia nodded knowingly.
– Necessarily!
“Here they are,” Smith said, smiling as she looked down the spiral staircase, where the extremely thoughtful boys were descending.
“Potter’s broken!” Weasley declared as soon as he was near us. “Or Rigel shook out his meager brains.”
– What made you think that? – I looked at the thoughtful guy.
– He, you know… – Ron scratched the back of his head. – He apologized and offered to be friends…
– Me too. – Justin shrugged. – It’s all strange.
“Don’t pay any attention to him, he’s just lying.” I waved my hand and relaxed. “Brother’s up to something nasty again and decided to let our guard down.”
“I thought so!” Weasley slammed his fist into his palm. “I always said the four-eyes belonged in Slytherin, just as cunning and sneaky! I’ll show him yet!”
“Boys, relax,” Hermione began to calm the hot-tempered children. “We’ve already called a truce. Aren’t you tired of the constant fighting?”
– No! – The boys answered in chorus and exchanged satisfied glances.
– Anyway, let’s mind our own business and just ignore my brother’s gang. – I folded my arms across my chest. – Let’s see how long he lasts.
– Mordred and this Potter! – Weasley waved his hand. – We have more important things to do!
– And what kind? – I leaned forward.
– Hagrid invited you to visit. – Ron took a piece of parchment out of his pocket. – Are you with us?
– Of course! – I was the first to jump up from the sofa, the girls were not far behind me.
“That’s great.” Justin smiled contentedly and headed out of the living room.
Our company followed him, it seems this weekend is no longer boring and is becoming interesting, we haven’t been to the forester for a long time…
