Chapter 4
It was as if I was being carried along by the gentle current of a warm river, with a gentle, hot sun beating down on me from above. Occasionally, sensations of reality would break through the unconsciousness for a few seconds, bringing with them Pain. Because of this, I happily dove back into the abyss of dreams, but consciousness still slowly returned: first I began to feel my arms and legs, then sounds and smells returned, and finally I opened my eyes.
The ceiling was white, the walls within sight were painted a pleasant blue. Some device was beeping monotonously nearby, annoyingly. Directly in front of me was a huge window into the hallway. My attempt to turn my head and look around was unsuccessful—my body was firmly restrained. Clearly, I was in intensive care. Had they really resuscitated me? I closed my eyes and recalled the recent events: the dark archway and the attack on me, the closet under the stairs, revenge for the raped child, Lyoshka… How good he was.
You can dream all sorts of nonsense under anesthesia. An attempt to move was met with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen and perineum… I slooooowly opened my eyes, glanced down, and closed them. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale… I opened my eyes again and looked around carefully.
Yeah. Well. Fuck… This wasn’t a dream or the delirium of a dying brain under anesthesia! This is fucked up!!!
So, did they really give me a chance to live my life again? Did they really mean Lyoshka? I promised him I’d live a good life for both of us. He said he’d wait and it was too early for me to go back to him. I trust HIM, and I always keep my promises! Two important questions remain: WHO is to blame and WHAT should I do? I closed my eyes and thought, the steady beeping of the machine lulling me to sleep…
Following the logic, I found myself in the world of Harry Potter books and films, only the script wasn’t written for me by an English housewife, but by Stephen King. Let’s take note.
I’m not a time traveler, like in anime, where a sad schmuck ends up in the main character’s body and destroys enemies with a swing of his penis. I was reincarnated on the hardest difficulty level, just like on the Dendy, where one wrong move means death! Only unlike the game, there’s only one life and no health bar, nor the option to start over.
After a severe emotional shock, Rigel remembered her past life. My life! It turns out parallel worlds exist, and I’m in one of them. Furthermore, everything the girl experienced, I experienced too; otherwise, how could I have known the language, remembered, and, most importantly, the motor skills and reflexes of my body? Why do I flinch at every sound? Why am I subconsciously afraid of everything and everyone?
Let’s complete the chain of logic: I am Rigel Potter, Harry Potter’s sister. In a past life, I was Elena Ivanova, a cynical bitch and district police investigator, murdered in a back alley. And I, a little girl who survived several years of hell and killed two monsters for freedom, was given the gift of knowledge and experience of a grown woman who hadn’t lived the best life. Got it. The question of identity is now resolved.
Now the most important question of Russian classics: what to do?!
Soon I’ll be interviewed by the police and a psychologist, then undergoing treatment, then going to an orphanage—that’s not even up for discussion; I’ve been through it, I know that. According to the film, I’ll receive a letter of happiness when I’m eleven, no doubt about it. At my request, the door to the closet opened by itself, silently! The fact that the child survived injuries incompatible with life should also be taken into account. Magic, and nothing else. So, the Bearded One… ahem… deceived the Flea-faced One and has designs on me, and since I don’t see a white beard in the room, it turns out my magical powers have somehow magically been restored. Tautology, and screw it. So, until the letter from Hogwarts arrives, no one cares about me, so until I’m eleven, we’ll squeeze as much knowledge out of the world around us as possible and restore our health with the reflexes of our past lives. Let’s accept this as a working theory.
Things will be much worse at Hogwarts, only a blind man wouldn’t see my resemblance to Potter. Harry is my twin brother! My body still remembers that feeling of warmth and kinship, as if he were an extension of me, I felt his heartbeat… I remember how we communicated without words. When I was learning to walk and fell, he cried with me, as if taking some of my pain and resentment for himself, and I truly felt better then.
Hmm… Ass. Big, hairy, and smelly… This idiot will get into every adventure and escapade, and I, as his sister, won’t be able to stand by! I understand rationally – screw Potter, he’s nothing to me! But it’s simply inexplicable; I can’t abandon my BROTHER in trouble. Magic, damn it…
I hope Sirius in this reality didn’t fall out with his mother and they raise the True Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble! It’s better for my little brother to be a spoiled brat who doesn’t care about anyone than that broken-down savior of the orphans and the downtrodden from the movie.
I don’t want adventures! Fuck dragons, fuck the world of sadistic Nazis and secular fanatics! If my brother doesn’t grow up to be a carbon copy of the Flea-bitten Freak—I can’t call him anything else—then we’ll hang out, and I’ll help however I can.
So, at school, we keep a low profile, keeping a low profile. When my brother makes contact, we explain the party’s policies. If that doesn’t work, we help from afar, preferably from around the corner of the neighboring house. But what should we do with Bearded and Flea-faced? To them, I’m just a valuable resource; no one will stand up for me, I’m an orphan without protectors or defenders. Anyone can do anything to me, anytime, and no one will be held accountable. The powers that be, manticore take them. This is a problem that needs to be considered and resolved before I start school. But there’s no solution!
Okay, let’s say I solved it. In the movies, compulsory education lasted five years out of seven, great! I think I can negotiate homeschooling for the sake of getting a high school diploma, and then I’ll go to law school and get a job at the prosecutor’s office. I liked my job and I don’t intend to give it up. As for the world of swords and sorcery, I don’t give a damn… ahem… I’m not interested in it. Well, maybe a little. After all, in the book, everything ended well and without outside interference. Although… we have Stephen King making the decision here, and he’s not exactly one for happy endings.
To sum it up: I’m studying and training, remembering what I was taught at the KMB, not getting involved in anything, looking for a way to protect myself from Sirius and Dumbledore, helping my brother whenever possible, and after my fifth year, I’m leaving school and building my life. These are my plans for the future.
A police officer and a psychologist will arrive soon to interrogate me. It’s simple: we’ll deny it completely, we can’t give ourselves away. This is where the poor girl’s reflexes and memory will help me. In fact, I’m a victim of sexual assault and abuse; judging by my memories, the girl never even ate from the table! I was regularly beaten and starved. And all I can do now is tell them the true story of this unfortunate child’s life and hope that they’ll place me in a better shelter. I understand that no one would dare adopt a child who stabbed their guardians to death; it’s just fear… Everyone will scream for punishment for those who allowed THIS, everyone will pity them, maybe someone will even give them a teddy bear. But no one will let such a sweet, unfortunate little monster into their home. Better to watch from afar.
The plan for working with the police and child protection is simple: just disable Elena’s memories and leave only Rigel. I hope I don’t develop schizophrenia. All that’s left is to wait.
That’s how I fell asleep…
