The Girl Who Lived Volume 1 by Moishe Goldman Free Novel Reading Chapter 59

It was a spring morning, and the first rays of sunlight filtered through the loosely drawn curtains, dimly illuminating the richly furnished bedroom. In the large, luxurious room, decorated in turquoise tones, a platinum blonde lay on a huge mahogany bed. The dawn rays touched her beautiful, aristocratic face, and the woman smiled faintly before rolling over.

“Good morning, my beautiful lady,” a soft, velvety voice rang out, and Integra opened her eyes slightly.

Next to her lay a naked, black-haired man of athletic build, and his red, slightly glowing eyes looked at her with warmth and care.

“Good morning…” the blonde muttered and closed her eyes, after which she pulled the snow-white sheet almost up to her chin. “Five more minutes…” She yawned unaristocratically, with all thirty-two teeth.

“The early bird catches the worm…” Alucard whispered, hugging his mistress around the waist and pulling her closer to him.

“He’s been walking around angry and sleep-deprived all day,” Integra grumbled, freeing her right hand and flicking the insolent vampire.

“At least you woke up.” The ancient monster grinned and theatrically rubbed the area where he’d been hit. “What are your plans for today?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” The blonde laid her head on the keeper’s powerful chest.

“Will you talk to her?” The vampire’s voice was slightly worried. “The old man wrote everything correctly in the letter; your daughter has started to behave too…”

“Nothing too much! Rigel’s good!” The indignant face of a beautiful girl with golden hair appeared from over Alucard’s shoulder. “My little sister is kind and honest!” Victoria thought for a moment and put a finger to her chin. “Sure, sometimes she can be cruel and merciless, even bloodthirsty, but that’s only when she’s angered. So what if she maimed a couple of brats, she didn’t kill them!”

“Victoria,” Integra reluctantly raised her head and looked at the sweetly smiling girl. “Our Rigel is first and foremost a lady and a future baroness, soon to be the head of the Order. And from the old man’s letter, I understood that at school she behaves like a hardened stormtrooper! First, she kicks down the door and throws a grenade, and then politely knocks and asks if anyone is home! Such behavior is unacceptable for the heir of the sacred Hellsing family.

“When you were fourteen, you came to Southern Rhodesia on a visit and shot the head of the local opposition on your very first day.” The ancient vampire chuckled maliciously. “Then you ordered the execution of his entire family and friends. Am I mistaken?”

Victoria giggled cheerfully, Alucard smiled slyly, and Integra pursed her lips, but smirked and elbowed the rude man in the ribs.

– Я тогда была молода и только вникала в дела Ордена… – Платиновая блондинка начала оправдываться. – К тому же этот грязный нигер меня оскорбил!

– Конечно, такое страшное оскорбление нельзя было прощать… – Мужчина сверкнул красными глазами и участливо покачал головой. – Такое оскорбление… Как он посмел отказаться разговаривать с девчонкой и заявить, что будет вести переговоры только с настоящим мужчиной… Какой плохой нигер… Был… А уж приказ «публично четвертовать его братьев и распять их жён» был верхом сдержанности и аристократизма.

– Her Majesty gave me a clear order: to bring these savages to submission. – Lady Hellsing smiled guiltily and looked into the eyes of the vampires. – Since then, there has been peace and quiet in Rhodesia, the local niggas have realized that the Empire does not stand on ceremony with its enemies!

“Well, my little sister doesn’t stand on ceremony either; she’s simply following her mother’s example.” Victoria continued to defend the silly little thing. “It’ll pass with age, I guess…” At the last word, the red-eyed cutie smiled predatorily, revealing her needle-like fangs.

“I want my daughter to be more reserved…” Integra smiled warmly. “When she was a baby, she had to endure terrible things, and after we adopted her, we were too zealous in preparing her…”

“And it turned out to be a great action movie!” Victoria beamed contentedly and draped her bare leg over the Master. “If it comes down to it, my sister’s hand won’t tremble. Isn’t that the main quality of the Crown’s punishing blade?”

“Brute force doesn’t always solve the problem,” the blonde smiled slyly and, lowering the sheet, revealed her firm breasts. “Many things can be achieved through bribery, blackmail, kidnapping loved ones, for that matter. But Rigel charges ahead like a super-heavy tank. When she grows up, she’ll have many enemies, and not all of them can be simply killed.”

“Like that Polish Minister of Defense?” The girl with the golden hair stretched seductively. “Walter told me how much pleasure he took in cutting off that boor’s head. And yet, the newspapers later wrote that Franciszek-Szepanik, while at his country house, slipped and fell on a hoe. What sharp gardening tools those Poles have.” The girl chuckled.

“He didn’t suit many people, including me.” The Baroness straightened a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. “So I contacted their prime minister; it wasn’t difficult to come to an agreement.”

“You’re right, the girl lacks flexibility and restraint,” Alucard whispered in a velvety voice, his hand resting on Integra’s breast, his other playful limb already stroking Victoria’s athletic bottom. “When she grows up, she’ll have to plunge into the cesspool called politics, and you can’t just kill everyone there. I advise you to start introducing the girl to the Order’s affairs, let her get the hang of it gradually.”

“I agree, I’ll talk to Rigel today, and in a couple of days we’ll start… Ah, stop it…” Integra turned to the ancient monster, whose warm and skillful hand smoothly descended from her firm breast and was now caressing her between her thighs. “We have to get up soon… Ah… We’ll be late for exercise…”

“We still have a whole forty minutes…” The hot breath of the ancient vampire burned Lady Hellsing’s neck.

“Little sister can start without us, there are plenty of helpers there,” Victoria purred contentedly and, with a smooth movement, straddled her master.

After making a couple of movements with her hips, the golden-haired beauty pressed herself against the Master’s mighty chest and reached out to the mistress for a kiss…

 

***

 

It was already getting late, and I was lying on my stomach, sagging on my favorite sofa. Elvira was comfortably nestled next to me, crunching popcorn and watching a Terminator movie. She was deeply engrossed, only occasionally looking up from the colorful screen to cast sympathetic glances at me. Meanwhile, I, listening to the television, reflected on the frailty of life and realized I needed to change something in my behavior.

Dumbledore, the bitch, he’s not a great light wizard, he’s a great snitch, he’s given me away! That morning, right after breakfast, my mother called me into her office for an important conversation. The first thing she handed me was a long parchment covered in a beautiful, ornate handwriting I recognized immediately. Dumbledore vividly and in great detail described all my school adventures, paying special attention to the students I’d beaten up.

The old man remembered everyone! He even described how many days the new Marauders had spent in the hospital wing thanks to me, described how I’d threatened Neville with a knife and turned Macmillan’s face into bloody mince. The old man then complained about my aggressiveness and bloodthirstiness, suggesting that perhaps the strict way Integra raised me was to blame. He asked Lady Hellsing to be kinder to me, to show me some motherly love, so to speak. After all, in the old man’s opinion, I was trying to attract her attention with my behavior. I read aloud, and at these lines, my mother and I, without saying a word, looked at each other skeptically and grinned.

The icing on the cake was a description of how, for a couple of minor insults, I sent two first-year students to St. Mungo’s, cursing them with a terrifying Dark spell. The old man didn’t forget to vividly describe our altercation in the office, and how I’d slandered the Prince. He politely and succinctly recounted our conversation, reminding me that the Prince was the Dean and bound to the school by a magical contract. The teacher was physically incapable of harming a student, which I took advantage of and brazenly provoked the big-nosed ugly man into a confrontation. Dumbledore wrote that he agreed with me on some points, and that the Prince wasn’t the nicest person, but he was a teacher and did a pretty good job. At this point, I looked up from the expensive parchment again and chuckled skeptically.

The headmaster then pressed me on organizational issues and Hogwarts rules, asking me not to touch the outraged teacher. The Prince may have been rude, but his students suffered, whereas I had openly cursed and insulted a grown man, thereby humiliating him in front of his colleagues. Besides, where would he find another Potions Master? The Hogwarts charter clearly states that only a Potions or Alchemy Master can be the Head of Slytherin House, and there aren’t even twenty of those in all of Wizarding Britain. The salary at Hogwarts is certainly decent, plus prestige, but masters earn a lot, and few are willing to share their knowledge with the younger generation, so there’s no replacement for the Prince yet, and none in sight anytime soon. The old man even included a vial of his memories, and I kept wondering why my mother had brought a Pensieve into the office.

After watching the magical movie and emerging from the artifact, I was met with disgruntled blue eyes; my mother was looking at me with great disapproval. Yes, the Prince had behaved like a jerk, but I’d done even worse; I should have been more restrained! I realized this perfectly well, seeing myself from the outside, but Vasya was a joy: my snake seemed so menacing, it practically made me proud.

The letter ended with the old man tearfully begging my mother to influence my behavior. And with an ultimatum. Dumbledore openly declared that he would not tolerate murder at school, whether by students or teachers. Outside the castle walls, do as you please, but at Hogwarts, show restraint or wait for the holidays. I looked up from the parchment and met his ironic blue gaze; we both knew perfectly well which faculty member the old man was referring to. Then came best wishes and an expression of hope that Lady Hellsing would influence young Rigel, for she was such a good and kind girl! True, only sometimes.

Having finished reading, I glanced at my mother, who was sitting at the table, nervously smoking a cigarillo. Hmm… I really felt so ashamed, so I silently lifted my dress and, taking off my panties, lay down on the wooden bench I’d prepared. However, the caning didn’t come right away; first, my mother decided to talk to me.

We spent a couple of hours pleasantly chatting about my appalling behavior, and with each passing minute I realized I’d gone too far in many ways. No, silently enduring insults was absolutely unacceptable—Mom had my full support—but I needed to be more cunning and clever. Why attack a senior student head-on when tomorrow he might “accidentally” fall down the stairs and break his neck? Why maim a first-year student when you could give him a good slap between the legs and curse him with a humorous, but very offensive, spell? Our family certainly had its share of ill-wishers, but why make new ones? Plus, our reputation—the wizards already considered our Order a bunch of fanatics, and looking at me, they realized we were also completely nuts. Mom reminded me that soon I’d grow up and have to take command of a small army, which meant I had to think ten times before acting. In the future, hundreds, maybe even thousands of lives will depend on my decisions.

I listened silently to my mother’s arguments, perfectly understanding her point. Hermione repeated the same thing to me regularly. I tried to argue that at Hogwarts I was in enemy territory, and my actions were simply a defensive reaction, plus the constant stress and nervous tension were taking their toll. To which my mother countered, saying that our soldiers in Africa and India were also constantly in enemy territory, where every day could truly be their last, but they behaved decently and didn’t commit massacres left and right. In the future, I’d often have to travel to dangerous places, so Hogwarts was the perfect place to hone my skills and develop the habit of always being on guard. And anyway, it was time for me to start getting involved in the Order’s affairs… Incidentally, I completely agreed with that last point.

When our conversation came to an end, Mom dramatically snapped her fingers, and Walter entered the office. Our imperturbable butler smiled politely and clutched a cane. Oh yeah, I’d completely forgotten that the educational talk needed reinforcement, and I didn’t mind, really—I deserved it. When I’d received my dose of Vitamin P (Author’s note: Belt) and stood up from the uncomfortable bench, Mom came up to me with an apologetic smile and hugged me tightly. At moments like these, I wanted to take the cane from the butler and give myself another, because my empathy was simply driving me crazy! Integra feels such emotional pain with each of my punishments that words simply can’t describe it. So I smiled encouragingly back and vowed to improve. I’ll try, honest!

On that note, we parted ways. Mom pulled another folder of documents from the safe, and I headed to my room. Until lunch, I chatted happily with Hermione on the Wonderphone—damn, I’d gotten so used to her company that I already missed her! Afterward, Elvira and I dropped into my quarters and decided to have a movie night, and while Smith ran to the kitchen, I got out a few cassettes. And off we went.

“Does it hurt a lot?” The girl looked at me sympathetically, the credits already playing on the screen.

“No, it’s fine.” I winced, rubbed the awl’s home port, and looked at my watch. “We won’t have much longer to endure it anyway.”

– Why is that? – Elvira took a stack of cassettes from the table and began to sort through them.

“Healer Smetvik is supposed to be here today, I have a routine checkup.” The girl looked up from her work and nodded understandingly. “He’ll check you out too, by the way.”

“And why me?” Smith looked at me questioningly.

“Behind the closet,” I smiled back. “That’s how it’s supposed to be. Every six months, a master healer comes and examines everyone, even Mom, just in case.”

“I see,” the girl nodded and showed me the tape. “Let’s watch this one?!”

 

***

 

Healer Smethwick arrived for dinner and happily shared our meal. He especially enjoyed our chef’s strawberry pudding, so, as usual, he asked for a couple to take home. In fact, ever since my healing, this tall, slightly plump, good-natured man had felt quite at ease in our estate and conversed with my mother and me as if we were old friends. We didn’t mind; it’s always a pleasure to converse with an intelligent and polite person. After finishing our meal, we quickly ascended to the third floor and began removing our protective artifacts.

“I see you’ve got a new addition?” Smetvik turned to his mother, nodding cheerfully towards the black-haired girl.

“Hippocrates, meet Elvira Smith, my daughter’s friend and our family vassal.” Mom turned to our guest with a smile. “Elvira, this is Hippocrates Smethwick, a master healer and simply a good person.”

My friend gave a curtsy, and the man winked slyly in response and pulled out his wand. “That’s what I love about magic—it’s the magical medicine; mundanes won’t catch up with wizards in that area for another hundred years, at least! A full body diagnostic in just a couple of minutes, no tests or other unpleasant procedures, just stand there and that’s it!” Having finished, Smethwick quickly glanced at the parchments with the diagnostic results and nodded approvingly.

“What can I say?” the healer pocketed the papers. “You’re all as healthy as you can be. There are, of course, a couple of issues…” The man thought for a moment. “I’ll prescribe a couple of strengthening potions for Elvira, but Rigel has the same problem as Miss Granger. It’s not serious, but some potions will have to be limited.”

“Any deviations?” Mom leaned forward, and Victoria stared intently at the healer.

“Don’t worry so much,” Smetvik waved his hand. “It’s just that due to the large amount of physical activity and the regular intake of various stimulants, the girl is a couple of years ahead of her physical development. Her body is now like that of a thirteen-year-old, her hormone production is correspondingly high, meaning she’s no longer a child, but a teenager.” The healer looked me over again. “Rigel, have you noticed any sudden mood swings or other behavioral changes in the last few months? Perhaps you’ve started having interesting dreams?”

I blushed and nodded in response. I’d been having “interesting” dreams quite often lately, and they involved more than just Alyoshka, but it was best not to think about that. The Healer had just confirmed some of my suspicions, but I’d check them later, in a couple of years, not sooner! It turns out Mia has the same problems as me. That brat, she was at St. Mungo’s with her parents today, but she didn’t tell me anything about it. But she did tell me in detail about visiting Diagon Alley and buying a gift for Ron. Maybe she was embarrassed? While I was pondering this, Smethwick finished scribbling the recipes and placed several sheets of parchment on the table.

“Okay, Elvira needs vitamins and strengthening supplements, everything strictly according to the prescription, and don’t forget about exercise,” the master instructed Mom as usual. “I prescribed a couple for you too, you’ll figure it out yourself, you’re not a little girl. But for Rigel and Miss Granger, the potions will be expensive, they’re made to order, but they stabilize hormonal levels. We’ve sorted that out, now we need to solve one more problem.”

– Did something happen? – Mom looked up from studying the recipes.

“It just so happens your daughter has presented our Dark Curses department with an extremely interesting and complex case.” The man looked at me reproachfully. “I’ve been working at St. Mungo’s for many years, and we occasionally receive students from Hogwarts, but first-years… And with such dark curses… Basically, I need the help of the culprit of this whole mess.”

“They started it…” I muttered under the adults’ disapproving glances and lowered my head. “And how can I help?”

“It’s simple.” The healer pulled a white porcelain apple from his pocket. “The curse, while not life-threatening, is very intricate. It’s a mixture of Russian, European, and English influences, and the work of a master is immediately apparent. I can, of course, unravel it, but it will take time, and my vacation is coming up! And the affected children would do well to stay home for a couple of days; it’s the holidays, after all. So I’m asking you to demonstrate this spell for me.”

I nodded in response, and the healer pointed his wand at a porcelain apple, which floated smoothly to the floor. Another wave of the concentrator, and a few moments later it transformed into an emaciated man in hospital pajamas. At first, I thought it was a corpse, as he lay motionless, staring at the ceiling with a glassy gaze, but then I noticed his steady breathing.

– W-who is this? – Elvira got scared and took a step back.

“Our teaching aid, sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss. ​​As you can see, the sentence has been carried out,” Smethwick replied calmly. “There’s no soul there, but the body functions perfectly. The hospital takes such bodies from the Ministry; it’s not worth throwing away valuable material. Healer apprentices practice and hone their skills on such shells. Let these scoundrels at least serve society after death.”

– That makes sense. – I nodded and looked at the body. – What should I do?

At this time, Smethwick took out of his pocket a strange pair of monstrous-looking glasses with many glowing multi-colored lenses and, before putting them on, poured a bottle of some kind of potion into himself.

“A migraine potion,” the master explained. “The artifact allows one to see magical currents, but for human perception, this is very unusual and causes severe headaches. So, Rigel, on my command, curse this vessel.”

– AnteoDucatia! – As soon as the healer waved his hand, a black beam shot from my wand and hit the victim of the Dementor’s kiss right in the chest.

Through the lenses of his glasses, the healer carefully watched the antlers grow, while his quill quickly scribbled on a piece of parchment hanging nearby. When it was finished, and the body had sprouted antlers, Smethwick cast a couple more diagnostic spells and, exhaling, pulled off the strange artifact.

“Thank you very much,” the master muttered, grimacing and rubbing his temples. “I’ve roughly grasped the principle; I’ll be done in just a couple of days.” With a wave of his wand, the healer transformed the body back into an apple and began to get ready.

“Um… Master, haven’t you forgotten anything?” Embarrassed, I pointed to my sore spot with my eyes; I didn’t really want to sleep on my stomach.

“I think I could show my gratitude by helping out.” The healer chuckled and looked at his mother with a smile. “Integra, what do you think? Has your daughter realized her mistakes?”

“I think so…” The platinum blonde smiled slyly. “Besides, she repented and personally took part in the treatment of the victims.”

“That’s what educational activities do to children.” Smetvik beamed contentedly and, with a wave of his wand, healed my bottom. “I remember my priest used to spank me a lot when I was a child. I’m ashamed to admit it, but there were good reasons for it.”

On this cheerful note, we said our goodbyes. As we descended the stairs, Hippocrates told us a couple of amusing stories from his youth and, wishing us all the best, departed the estate. After seeing the master healer off, we went to our rooms; tomorrow would be a long day…

 

***

 

On the morning of April 1st, I went down to breakfast an hour earlier than usual. Even exercise had been cut to a minimum, thanks to Ronald Bilius Weasley’s birthday, to which we were all invited. (Author’s note: I know Ron’s birthday is on March 1st in canon, but April Fools’ Day suits him better to me.) We accepted the invitation, of course, but we hadn’t taken one thing into account: the drive from London to the Devon village of Ottery St. Catchpole was over four hours! I even considered taking a helicopter, but my mother rejected my idea. So, yawning sleepily, I entered the dining room and automatically stood at attention. Guests were seated at the table.

The first was a tall, dark-haired man with bright blue eyes, wearing the uniform of a Marshal of the Soviet Union, and next to him, a colonel of the Soviet Air Force was chatting peacefully. When the initial shock wore off, I recognized my grandfather, but his companion was a short, stocky man, his dark hair heavily streaked with gray, but his brown eyes radiated life and joy. I didn’t recognize the colonel, but his face seemed very familiar, as if I’d seen him somewhere before.

“Star, hello!” Sergey Cherny quickly stood up and waved his hand invitingly at me. “Come join us, I’ll introduce you to someone.”

“Good day, Comrade Marshal!” I approached the officers, stood at attention, and greeted my relative with a smile.

“What did I tell you?” the former head of Vityaz addressed the junior officer with satisfaction. “Star, meet Alexey Maresyev, Hero of the Soviet Union! Lyokha, meet my granddaughter, Rigel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Maresyev smiled cheerfully and extended his hand, which I immediately shook.

“You’re probably asking what we’re doing here?” Grandpa turned to me, and I nodded quickly in response. “About a month ago, I met Comrade Colonel at a gala event, the opening of a new children’s camp for disabled children. Then we got to talking a little, and I remembered your friend Ron, right?” I nodded again. “You told us back during the holidays how ‘The Story of a Real Man’ helped a guy accept his disability and not break down…”

“That’s why I decided to personally support the boy!” Maresyev continued. “I contacted the chairman of the Pioneer movement, then called the Minister of Youth Affairs, and they gave me the green light. This story really pleased the people at the top, and I was sent to congratulate our English comrade on his birthday, which I was only too happy about. You won’t mind if I go with you and give the boy gifts from myself and the Soviet government, will you? Everything has been approved at the very top.”

– Uh… No, of course not! – I was in shock, to say the least. – Ron is just a fan of flying, and he’s read your biography several times. It’s… It’s… Thank you!

“You’re welcome.” Sergei winked at me cheerfully, then looked over his shoulder. “Hello, princess, here you go,” he put his hand on the colonel’s shoulder. “Just as I promised!”

“Thank you, Sergey,” Mom nodded contentedly. “Good morning, Alexey, how did you get here?”

A polite conversation followed, while we were served a hearty English breakfast. Then we went outside, where two cars were already waiting: the familiar Rolls-Royce and a luxurious government-issued Volga. We quickly settled into our seats and set off.

The drive was long, monotonous, and boring; springtime London isn’t exactly beautiful, to say the least, so after just half an hour I rested my head on my mother’s shoulder and dozed off. I even missed the moment when the Grangers’ car joined our mini-convoy; Dan caught up with us a couple of kilometers outside the capital.

I was jolted awake as we entered Ottery St. Catchpole. What can I say, it’s a lovely, quiet village on the southern coast of the British Empire. The houses were stone and built in the old style, looking very cozy and organic. As we drove down the narrow street, I spotted a couple of pubs and a few sleepy locals. Overall, it was a quiet and peaceful place, the kind they say is a pleasant place to retire. This village also has one great advantage: the sea is just a couple of kilometers away, so the winters here are very mild and warm.

Our motorcade slowly passed the quiet village along the central street and came to a wide, wild field, approached by an overgrown country road. Walter moved forward, and as the car crossed the invisible boundary, the Weasley family home came into view. In the middle of the field stood a strange three-story cottage, surrounded by a low stone wall. From here, I could make out a small vegetable garden and several outbuildings in the yard. From a distance, everything looked quite pleasant, completely different from the squalor depicted in the movies.

The Weasley house itself, while seemingly sturdy, was unusual, or eccentric—there’s no other way to put it. It seemed as if the second and third floors had been added much later, as if several houses had been stacked on top of each other. The first floor was built of dark, rough stone, the second of white brick, and the third of red brick. The same story with the windows: on the first floor they were round, on the second they were square, and on the third they were triangular! From the outside, this building looked very strange and unusual, but it exuded a certain coziness and warmth. I simply wanted to go inside and sit with a cup of hot chocolate in front of the fireplace; judging by the dozen chimneys on the roof, there were several of them.

“There’s some pretty good protection here,” the master cast it, not even a magister. Victoria looked around with glowing eyes. “Sister, are your friends really beggars?”

“Definitely not rich.” I was already fully awake and looked around the empty field around the house. “Maybe someone helped; from what I understand, the Weasleys are very sociable.”

“Dumbledore.” Mom looked up from her folder of papers. “According to indirect evidence, during the First Wizarding War, the Order of the Phoenix had a hospital here, and Molly was in charge, brewing potions and treating the wounded.”

“And Mungo’s? I read that the hospital is neutral territory.” Elvira spoke up.

“Any medical care in a wizarding hospital costs money,” Integra smiled sadly. “Where do simple mudbloods get their money? That’s why the old man got busy. His organization was always desperately short of funds, so he even sold his parents’ house. According to my sources, the old man is broke as a church mouse; he still donates his entire director’s salary to the fund for former members of the Order of the Phoenix.”

– Things… – My respect for the old man has increased a little, so be it, I’ll just shit in one of his slippers, the bearded snitch.

“Okay, girls, they’re already meeting us.” Mom sighed heavily. “Not a word about Sergei. Molly and Arthur are from the older generation, so it’s best for him to keep his face out of sight to avoid any unnecessary questions.”

Our car stopped, and I pushed open the armored door, followed by Elvira. A couple of minutes later, the Grangers and the Maresyevs joined us. The colonel, a little sheepishly, asked me for help. It was all about the gift. The Black One couldn’t be seen, so with a magician’s gesture, he pulled a huge wooden box from his bag, about two meters long and half a meter wide and high. This contraption turned out to be very heavy, so I pulled out Rabinovich’s wand and lifted the parcel with a spell. Telekinesis would have been an option, but why bother?

“For as long as I’ve lived, I never cease to be amazed by miracles!” the heroic colonel exclaimed enthusiastically. “A little girl, but she can easily lift a couple of hundredweight!”

– And you?… – Dan began.

“Let’s be informal?” Maresyev extended his hand to the Granger family father. “Seryoga told me about you, you’re a real tough guy.”

– Come on. – Dan shook the outstretched hand. – So, anyway?

“I’m a sorcerer. I learned about it in 1942 in a Moscow military hospital.” The officer smiled sadly. “The military doctor told me then that the body of an ordinary person simply wouldn’t be able to withstand such stress. That’s how I learned about magic. And you?”

“I’m an ordinary person, just like my wife, but my children turned out to be wizards!” Hermione’s father replied proudly. “Both of them!”

“Congratulations!” The Soviet officer patted Granger on the shoulder. “You’re strong! Listen, what about…”

I didn’t listen any further; the men had clearly found each other, and I imagined Maresyev would soon become a frequent guest at the Black’s, certainly on fishing trips. With these thoughts in mind, we crossed the open gates—well, not really gates, really, just a stone fence resting on two dug-in wooden posts. Almost the entire Weasley force emerged, Molly and Arthur in front, and Ron and the twins waving cheerfully from behind their parents’ backs.

– Integra! Darling, how glad I am to see you! – The matriarch of the red-haired family hugged my mother and kissed her on both cheeks. – How was your trip? Everything okay? – Without waiting for an answer, the red-haired woman let her go and hugged the vampire standing next to her ample chest. – Victoria! Baby! You’re still so thin, aren’t you feeling cold in those clothes? – Molly let go of the vampire and, grabbing her by the shoulders, kissed her on both cheeks. – I made a kidney pie especially for you, otherwise you’re as skinny as a pole!