Chapter 60
“Is the girl okay?” Emma took Molly’s hand sympathetically.
“Not exactly…” The woman sighed heavily. “The mediwitches were able to fix her face, but her eyes… At first, everyone thought Luna was blind, but then it turned out she could see, just not like we could, I don’t fully understand it myself. A whole scientific council was assembled at St. Mungo’s, and Smethwick kept saying something about a unique case, but in the end, they sent the girl home. That incident changed her greatly, but what’s worse, her father…”
“Xenophilius has completely lost his mind,” Percy muttered, looking up from his magazine.
“Darling, we don’t say that.” Mrs. Weasley looked reproachfully at her eldest son. “But you’re probably right. Xeno is a good man, but after his wife died, he locked himself in his printing shop and completely forgot about his own daughter. And the subject matter of his magazine has changed dramatically; it used to have a lot of interesting and useful content, but now it’s complete nonsense.”
“I like The Quibbler!” Fred exclaimed. “The article in the last issue was very informative!”
– Aha! – George looked at us conspiratorially: – Did you know that there is a brain-eating slug living in Minister Fudge’s cauldron?
“Children!” Mrs. Weasley threatened the twins with a spoon and turned back to Emma and Integra. “We neighbors are looking after the baby, helping out as best we can, but we can’t replace her parents. Luckily, the guild helped with the girl’s treatment. Luna is a frequent guest in our house; she and Ginny have been friends since childhood.”
Our conversations were interrupted by Arthur entering the house with Justin and his father. Molly immediately transformed and rushed to greet the guests, as did the rest of the Weasleys. When all the greetings were over and the guests were seated, the front door opened again and Ginny and Luna entered the room to the sound of laughter.
Ron’s sister looked like a typical tomboy: her fiery red hair was pulled back into a ponytail and covered with a baseball cap. She wore a green track jacket, jeans ripped at the knee, and tattered sneakers of an indeterminate color. A mischievous smile flashed across her sweet face, and her light brown eyes sparkled with amusement. Luna, on the other hand, looked like a little fairy, high on drugs, and really high on them. Petite and fragile, her hair was completely gray, she wore a garish, bright green sweater over an orange cotton dress, and black tarpaulin boots. I couldn’t see what was wrong with her eyes; they were obscured by her bright pink-framed, star-shaped glasses with rhinestones on the temples and yellow lenses.
“Hello, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Dread, Fodge, Peach,” the guest sang in a quiet, angelic voice and looked at Ron with a dreamy smile. “Hello, Sixth, happy birthday!”
“Hello, Moony!” The birthday boy jumped up from his chair with a satisfied smile and ran up to hug his neighbor tightly. “It’s good that you came! I’ll introduce you to my friends!”
“I drew this especially for you,” the gray-haired girl babbled and pulled a sheet of parchment from her bosom.
The painting—and it was a painting—was beautifully and meticulously depicted. The red-haired boy, clad in knightly armor, sat atop a white griffin, stabbing a giant spider with a spear.
“It’s beautiful, I’ll hang it on my bedroom wall,” the boy admired. The girls and I came up behind her and also admired this masterpiece; the girl has real talent. “Luna, meet my friends! Justin, Rigel, Hermione, and Elvira. Ginny, you should meet her too. I told you about it, of course, but it’s better in person!”
Ron’s sister smiled cheerfully and waved, but Lovegood began looking us over very carefully, literally from head to toe. Luna looked me and Smith over carefully, but she lingered a bit on Hermione. I’d even say I was surprised when the white-haired girl finished, opened her arms, and went for a hug. Maybe Mrs. Weasley had bitten her?
“Hi Mione, I’m so happy for your parents.” The girl kissed my friend on the cheek. “Hi Veera, you’ll be fine.” Lovegood hugged Smith tightly. “Hello RiHel, I’ll be friends with you…” The little miracle snuggled up to me.
“Children! You’ll have time to get acquainted later, now get to the table! Ronniekins, take care of the girls.” Mrs. Weasley interrupted Luna and I headed towards the table, lost in thought.
No one noticed, but this girl called me RiHel, and if they did notice, they chalked it up to her quirks. Molly said Lovegood seemed blind, but still saw in her own way. Maybe she saw something in me, too? That was definitely not a slip of the tongue! I’ll definitely talk to that little Oracle later; she had a very strange reaction to Hermione and me. And then there was my empathy. Luna’s emophone emanated not the usual emotions, but some kind of purity and light; she felt like an angel; I couldn’t think of another synonym. With these thoughts in mind, I returned to the table and our main course was served.
Mr. Weasley, as the head of the family, quickly and deftly carved the turkey, while his wife began levitating plates for the guests. Ron, meanwhile, served us silverware and tried his best to act like a gentleman; the boy was awkward and incredibly shy, which made his actions quite comical.
“Luna, my dear, you’re at the table,” the matriarch of the red-haired family turned to little Lovegood. “Take off your glasses, it’s not proper.”
“Okay, Mrs. Weasley,” the girl sang in an angelic voice and pulled the 90s Russian pop star’s dream off her face.
When Lovegood removed her glasses and pocketed them, I passed my fork past my mouth. The world of magic never ceases to amaze. The girl’s eyes were like those of a blind person; her pupils, like her irises, were a cloudy milky white, and I also noticed that she hardly blinked. Yet Luna was perfectly oriented in space and, judging by the painting, could distinguish colors perfectly! I wonder how she sees? I think she’s going to Hogwarts next year; I’ll have to keep an eye on her.
After a couple of hours of merry feasting, I felt like a kolobok that had eaten everyone in its path and was about to burst. Relaxed, I leaned back in my chair and turned to Hermione, who was currently lazily picking at a warm salad with a fork. Ron was chatting cheerfully with Justin and Elvira, the twins were looking at everyone with mischievous glances, and little Luna and Percy were poring over a magazine. The adults had also broken up into groups based on interests, or more precisely, gender. Mrs. Weasley had managed to run upstairs and was now showing Hector some magical books, to the admiring glances of Emma and Integra. The little boy was happy and laughing merrily. Arthur, meanwhile, had pulled a car magazine from his nightstand and was now listening attentively to Dan and Ethan, who were explaining something about engine design to the wizard. Mrs. Weasley looked away from the baby and carefully examined the guests.
“So, I see everyone’s full?” the woman turned to us with a smile, and everyone at the table nodded happily. “And I also made cake and a dozen other desserts!” Elvira choked on her juice, and Mia squeezed my hand under the table. “So I suggest we take a little break and take a three-hour break! Kids, go for a couple of hours, Ronnie, show the guests our garden.”
“A Quidditch pitch would be better!” The birthday boy stared longingly at the new broom standing near the fireplace. “We made it ourselves.”
– Maybe the garden first? – Elvira looked pitifully at the ginger one.
“Are you stuffed?” Ron chuckled. “Well then, yeah, it’s best not to get on a broom now. I remember one time Cedric was having lunch with us, and then we went straight to play Quidditch, and during one of his pirouettes…”
“Ronald Weasley!” the red-haired woman shouted at her son, “it’s not proper to say such things at the table! Especially in front of young ladies! Show the guests around first, and only then mount your new broom!”
“Okay, Mom.” The sixth Weasley hung his head dejectedly.
“Speaking of Quidditch! Happy birthday, buddy!” Justin groaned as he pulled a small chest out of his bag and then enlarged it with a wave of his wand.
“Ron, we want to congratulate you too!” My friends and I stood up and Mia handed the birthday boy a thick, gilded tome.
At that moment, I thought Ron would split in half, he was rushing between the gifts so intensely. On one side was a deluxe edition of “Quidditch Through the Ages,” and on the other, a set of Quidditch balls. Eventually, the boy carefully accepted the book and carefully placed it on the shelf, then rushed to the drawer. All this was accompanied by laughter from the adults and our own jokes. About fifteen minutes later, when everyone had calmed down, we were sent outside.
The twins, seeing their younger brother’s impatience, sent him and Justin to the Quidditch pitch. Ginny also said she wanted to try out her new broom and ran toward the barn, Luna following her friend. It turned out the red-haired family had three Cleansweepers; the brooms, though old, were in excellent condition. Our overfed, girlish trio lazily followed Fred and George; they promised to show us around.
Over the next half hour, the twins, in their usual stereo manner, showed us their property. The garden, which had looked small from a distance, turned out to be about fifteen acres and had a dozen small greenhouses. There was also a large shed from which something grunted and clucked. The brothers proudly declared that they didn’t buy meat or eggs. Further on, there was a small pond and a lovely, slightly overgrown garden. The highlight of the tour was Mr. Weasley’s large stone garage.
– And this is where dad keeps his collection…
– And the car…
– He flies…
– But it’s a secret…
During our walk, my friends and I shook off some of the fat, but the twins’ conversations started giving me a headache; these parasites were deliberately coming from different directions, and we had to turn our heads every now and then.
– Do you want to see?
– Dad, of course, doesn’t allow it…
– But for guests it is possible…
Inside, the garage resembled a laboratory combined with a local history museum. Immediately by the entrance stood an artifact maker’s workbench with a multitude of neatly arranged tools. The wall to the left was hung with car parts and various wrenches, while the wall to the right consisted of a large cabinet with glass doors.
“That’s Dad’s plug collection!” Fred exclaimed proudly. “He’s been collecting them for ten years!”
– Yeah, and there’s also Muggle money, all sorts of it, – George added. – But we’re not allowed to touch it!
“Two years ago, Dad wrote down all the banknote numbers.” Fred rubbed his lower back.
“And this is our car!” George persisted. “Dad found it in a junkyard and started restoring it before we were born.”
A sky-blue Ford Anglia stood in the center of the garage, looking as if it had just rolled off the assembly line yesterday. The little Ford literally sparkled with cleanliness, its chrome parts gleaming even in the dim light. The red-haired father had done a truly titanic job, especially considering the fact that this car also flies. Someday I’ll ask for a ride in this marvel. I wonder if it could enchant an infantry fighting vehicle or a tank. I’ll have to suggest an idea to my mother. How much does Arthur earn at the ministry? The Order could offer many times more!
– Riya, look! Rubles! – My friend stood and looked at one of the shelves of the closet.
– I see, and there are also francs and marks nearby, whose are these? – I approached Hermione and noticed an unknown banknote.
– These are Czech crowns! – One of the twins approached us from behind, – you better look here!
The guy pointed to a shelf above, and all sorts of plugs appeared before my eyes. There really were a lot of them, and all different! Hmm… Some people collect stamps, and others…
Our tour was interrupted by Arthur, accompanied by Dan and Ethan, the men laughing heartily and clutching bottles of beer. Seeing us, Mr. Weasley politely sent us off to join the other children while he headed to the Ford. From snatches of conversation, I gathered that there were some problems with the carburetor and pistons. We were already getting out when Dan rolled up his sleeves and Arthur opened the hood.
The Quidditch pitch greeted us with cheerful laughter, Ron, accompanied by Luna and Ginny, slicing through the sky. The twins exchanged cheerful glances and handed me a broom. The next hour flew by quickly and cheerfully, as we took turns racing and performing various aerial pirouettes. Then Ron demanded that we all compare the old Cleansweep-69 and his brand-new GOMIK-U. What can I say, the new Soviet broom was faster and easier to control; the boys nodded to me and rushed off to test its acceleration and maneuverability. The girls and I watched from the ground, comfortably seated on a spacious bench under a tree. Elvira was chatting animatedly with Ginny, and I decided to find out a few things.
“Luna, why did you call me RiHel?” I asked the gray-haired girl who was watching the boys with a dreamy smile.
“You have her seal on you, you were beyond the edge and she is watching over you,” the girl answered calmly, without looking up.
– Who? – I leaned forward.
– SHE… She has many names, but no one knows the real one. – Luna broke away from the sky and looked into my eyes. – Your magic is very frightening, it is evil and hungry, but you… – The girl poked her index finger into my chest. – Kind and honest, I will be friends with you. You changed a lot with your appearance, thank you.
For a second, I was taken aback, but the next moment, the little gray-haired thing hugged me tightly, and it felt so nice. It was like standing under a hot shower, washing away dirt; I even felt a little awkward. Next to this child, I felt like a real monster.
– Hm… – Our hug was interrupted by Hermione. – Luna, what did you say about my parents?
“I’m so happy for them…” Lovegood let me go and turned around, taking my friend’s hand. “It could have ended very badly for them, but now everything will be different, and that’s good. Thank RiHel, she did it.”
– What have I done? – I understand that with every word of this trifle I understand less and less.
“Look! I think I saw a wrinkled-horned snorklak!” The gray-haired girl jumped up cheerfully and ran towards a small grove.
“Girls, don’t pay attention. Luna is strange, but very kind.” Ginny looked at us with a sad smile. “Mrs. Lovegood died before her eyes, and she herself suffered greatly, and then Mr. Lovegood went mad…” The Seventh Weasley sighed heavily. “Luna has changed a lot, but I accepted her oddities, she’s my best friend. And also, I think Luna can see the future. A year ago, she asked me to stay away from the green-eyed, marked brunette. Maybe she meant Harry Potter?”
“And Luna told me,” Elvira chimed in. “So I wouldn’t reject the one who gives me a white rose. Maybe she really is the Pythia? Lovegood was close to death, I read about it, you can see all sorts of things there.”
“If Luna meant Potter, she’s right – he’s a real bastard.” I looked at Ginny, then turned my gaze to Smith and smiled. “We’ll wait for the hero who gives you flowers…”
Our conversations were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley, who was waving her arms invitingly and inviting us to try some cake. We exchanged glances and ran to catch Luna, who was rummaging around in the bushes, looking for someone.
We spent the next hour enjoying a stunning cake and all sorts of desserts. The children washed down these delicacies with hot tea, and Mrs. Weasley presented the adults with her famous mead. We laughed and joked joyfully; the atmosphere was extremely homey and pleasant. Arthur cheerfully told us how he enchanted his Ford through trial and error, then the man proudly announced that Fred and George were already selling artifacts of their own making. He even showed everyone the green wooden plaque he wore around his neck, especially boasting about the colored paint idea—that was my idea, but I remained silent.
Protective amulets are made from the same wood as hot water bottles, meaning they’re disposable! But while a hot water bottle lasts for several months, the wooden piece with the Protego shield’s runes can withstand three or four hits from an upperclassman—we tested it with Percy—and then crumble. The amulet would crumble to dust after three powerful Stupefy attacks from our prefect, or seven from Fred, or twelve from Anthony. After all the testing, I had an idea, and within a week, I found a formula for a paint in my seventh-year textbook that indicates the charge level of the disposable artifact. The recipe isn’t complicated, the ingredients are cheap, and it works amazingly well! When the amulet is fully charged, it’s green, halfway through, it’s yellow, and when it’s almost gone, the piece of wood turns red. The twins appreciated my idea, and Goldstein started selling the amulets with the indicator for two Galleons more.
When Arthur finished his presentation, Molly pulled out a family photo album and showed all the guests baby Ronniekins and his brothers as children. Then followed stories of amusing life situations and much more. Overall, the party was a success; I haven’t enjoyed sitting in the company of simple and sincere people in a long time; my empathy for the Weasleys was exactly that. I felt almost no negativity, envy, or anything bad from them. There were a couple of moments, but they weren’t negative, more like regret and shame. I felt these emotions when Justin and the girls and I gave Ron expensive gifts. At that moment, I even felt a little embarrassed; a copy of the gift edition of “Quidditch Through the Ages” costs three months of Arthur’s salary, and a set of balls from Justin is even more expensive.
When evening came and we said our goodbyes, naturally in Weasley style, with hugs and kisses, Molly handed me an antique tome with a satisfied smile. It was very old, its leather binding cracked in places and its pages yellowed, but it looked very well cared for. The book was called “The Young Witch’s Companion,” and the gilding on the letters was a little worn, but it was still legible.
“Rigel, my dear.” Molly looked at me with a smile. “I appreciated your Christmas gift to Ron; it was a little rough, but it was done with love. Besides, Integra told me you like needlework and learn everything from books, since there are no teachers around. My great-grandmother gave me this manual; it’s full of useful information; they don’t print things like that anymore. Of course, there are some things in there that would land you in Azkaban these days, so I colored those pages out, but the rest will be useful to you in the future.”
– Mrs. Weasley, I cannot accept such an expensive gift… – I was even taken aback by such kindness.
“Who said it was a gift?” Molly looked at me slyly. “Once you’ve read and memorized everything, you’ll definitely return it safe and sound. You’re a smart girl, I think you’ll learn everything over the summer; there’s plenty of stuff there about embroidery and home economics. Give it to Ginny on the train; it’ll be her inheritance.”
“Thank you.” I hugged this kind woman, and in return she squeezed me and wished me all the best.
After cheerfully saying goodbye to the Weasley family, we piled into our cars, each handed a basket of food, and headed back to London. I settled comfortably in the car; it had been a very eventful day. Elvira even fell asleep right away in Victoria’s lap, smiling thoughtfully. Oh yeah, Molly had cooked a huge rare steak especially for her; maybe she’d guessed? I tried reading a new book, but my eyes kept closing, so I snuggled up to Mom and dozed off. Three more days of vacation ahead… So much to do… It had been a good day… The drive lulled me to sleep, Mom stroked my head, and before I knew it, I’d fallen asleep…
***
The holidays flew by, and before I knew it, tomorrow I’m already heading back to Hogwarts. The past three days were action-packed; I managed to stroll around Crawley with Hermione and even stop by the orphanage. We visited Barry’s brother and sister there; the children settled in and have already moved into the main building. Lady Priscilla is now busily working with the little ones, as they’ll be starting school in six months. Valerie is still little, and Olaf can barely write, and he’s almost nine! After my walk, I returned to the estate, and my mother presented me with a problem, promising to start introducing me to the Order’s activities. Here, please, take this and sign for it.
As a young warrior maiden, I was tasked with resolving the cloven-hoofed issue—pardon me, just cloven-hoofed; it turns out horses are odd-toed. No matter! Anyway, these proud representatives of an enlightened people agreed to serve the Crown and were ready to move to Africa. They were even given a sizable chunk of land in Rhodesia, on the shores of Lake Nyasa, where there’s a good magical spring. So, the problem turned out to be how to transport this stubborn herd to another continent! I spent two fucking days exchanging letters on enchanted parchment with some elder named Akakiy, and by the end, I really wanted to bang my head against the wall.
These stubborn rams, clearly descended from centaurs, flatly refused to climb into the shipping containers with space-expansion charms. They’re not animals, mind you, they want cabins! They’re completely out of their minds! I couldn’t think of another cheap and proven way to transport nearly seven hundred three-meter-tall humanoid horses, and neither could Sir Islands. Manufacturing that many individual international Portkeys would be very expensive and time-consuming, and opening a permanent portal would be very obvious. There would be such a surge of magic that all the Ministry wizards would immediately flock there like flies to sh… Ahem, to honey. All I could manage was to arrange a meeting for the end of April. Why almost a month later? That’s what the stars told them, those fucking astronomers.
Okay, I could forget about centaurs for a month, so I settled into my bed and telekinetically pulled the book Mrs. Weasley had given me. It turned out to be a very interesting and informative read, especially the colored pages. This manual for young housewives was published before the Statute was passed and was essentially a self-help guide for girls. It contained numerous detailed, step-by-step and animated instructions on housekeeping, cutting and sewing, and a wealth of tips on housekeeping and other matters. I was particularly pleased with the tips and accompanying instructions for embroidering charms on clothing and personal items, but the real fun was found in the colored pages.
The ink turned out to be indelible, and nothing was visible when held up to the light, but my curiosity and modern technology helped me uncover the secret knowledge; the text was perfectly legible under an infrared flashlight. Hmm… After reading a couple of the blacked-out pages, I understood why the Witch Hunts had begun. Medieval wizards were completely fucked up and considered mundane creatures to be nothing more than animals, and foolish ones at that. On the very first page, I came across advice on how to make enchantments on clothing last longer: to do this, you need to go to the nearest village, take a Muggle child, and then sacrifice it. Below was a diagram of the ritual sacrifice. Or, to ward off filthy Muggles from your home, you need to take seven virgin girls, place them in a ritual circle (diagram included), and then disembowel them in a specific order. If you did everything correctly, the pathetic Muggles will avoid your lands. Hmm… This is some serious crap, I thought, as I painstakingly sketched out the ritual diagram. What if it comes in handy?! And the family library needs to be expanded.
Having finished the drawing, I put the book back on the nightstand, settled myself more comfortably in bed, and turned off the light. Before falling asleep, I wondered what Victoria and Walter were doing now; they weren’t at dinner. When I asked, Mom replied that they were running a small errand for the Order. Okay, I’ll try to question our vampire tomorrow morning, but now it’s time to sleep…
***
Severus Prince walked down Hogsmeade’s main street, thinking about his life, which he hated. The young wizard also hated his acquaintances: Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, and the stupid idiots mistakenly called students. And thanks to one bearded bastard, the latter could no longer be insulted; Severus simply called a spade a spade! These illiterate, stupid, underage idiots shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a cauldron; what’s the point of teaching them?! However, the Prince valued his job, or rather, his skin, because without the old man’s protection, he wouldn’t survive a day. The Aurors and members of the Order of Fried Chicken didn’t believe for a second that he was a spy among the Death Eaters, but his paid-off colleagues from his inner circle, now respected wizards, doubted his devotion and loyalty to the pureblood cause. It was for this reason that the Head of Slytherin rarely left Hogwarts; the man loved his hateful life too much.
The first floor of the Burrow, as the Weasleys called their home, was almost entirely taken up by a large, spacious kitchen and dining room. Our entire, rather large group could easily fit around the enormous table, and the aromas in the air made my mouth water. While Molly bustled about, waving her wand and setting the table, I glanced around once more.
Upon entering, my attention was immediately drawn to the enormous fireplace on the left. It was crackling steadily, emitting a pleasant warmth. Its entire stone mantel was filled with countless photo collages, not just of the Weasleys, but also of a host of unknown wizards. To the right was a wizarding kitchen—yes, that’s right! A large sink where dishes washed and dried themselves, then scurried off to a special rack, strange mixers and kitchen utensils with a life of their own, and a multitude of jars and vials filled with various seasonings and spices. There was a vast array of cabinets, shelves, and cabinets, all assembled from various sets of furniture and varying greatly in both color and design, and they didn’t even coordinate! Yet all this chaos cohered! The kitchen looked lived-in and homey, and all these oddities only added to the cozy, warm feeling. In the center of the makeshift dining room there was a huge oval table with many chairs and stools, naturally, they were all different.
While Mrs. Weasley levitated a huge roast turkey, roast potatoes, and several pies onto the table, I examined the dining room walls. Framed here and there were all sorts of children’s drawings, a couple of certificates, and a few more family photos. My attention was also drawn to a strange clock with an unusual face and hands. It hung near a round window, whose wide sill had been transformed into an overstuffed chair. The hands on this clock were ornate; there were nine of them, each with the name of one of the red-haired family members carved into it. The dial itself was divided into sectors, and instead of telling the time, it showed the location of the Weasley family members. There were sections labeled “Home,” “Work,” “School,” “On the Road,” and so on. The only sector that confused me was “Mortal Danger,” and the hand with the name Bill pointed to it. Another hand with the name Charlie pointed to “Work,” and all the others were in the “Home” sector.
It’s strange, Ron often talked about his brother Charlie, who worked as a dragonologist in a Romanian nature reserve, but he never mentioned Bill. According to the movies, one of the Weasley brothers worked for the goblins, and those cannibals are real beasts and have some peculiar ways of using hired help. I’ll try asking Ron later at school; I don’t want to ruin the party today. I looked around again; Molly had almost finished setting the table, and I felt a little uneasy; there was SO much food! There was as much variety here as at the Hogwarts feast, everything looked delicious and appetizing, oh… Tomorrow morning I’ll have to run a couple more laps, but I’ll definitely try all this splendor!
I turned to the right and saw the same internal struggle on Hermione’s face as I did on my own. Without saying a word, we smiled and nodded at each other. We were seated at the table by age, with the adults on one side and the children opposite. I was seated between Hermione and Elvira, with the twins whispering cheerfully to our right and Ron staring at his empty plate with a goofy grin to our left. At that moment, Mom’s Wonderphone rang and she quickly chatted before nodding to Mrs. Weasley. It was most likely Finch-Fletchley, Ron’s best friend, who had informed us in advance that they were stuck in traffic and would be a little late. Arthur chuckled contentedly and, rising from the table, went to greet his honored guests.
“Ron, Roon, Weasley!” Mia elbowed the dreamy birthday boy in the ribs and he came to his senses.
– Oh! Why fight right away?! I can hear everything! – The boy rubbed his right side.
– Hm? – Hermione raised her eyebrows, and the guy shrugged cheerfully. – Okay, where’s your sister? I don’t see her.
“Ginny will be here soon,” Ron waved his hand with a smile. “She went to get Moony.”
“Ronald Weasley! Don’t you dare call that poor girl that!” Mrs. Weasley looked at her son reproachfully and even threatened him with a ladle.
– And what about me? I’m okay! And anyway, she started it! – The birthday boy began to justify himself. – She was the one who started calling me Sixth! And she doesn’t take offense to Moony, I didn’t mean to be mean! But sixth sounds…
“That’s right!” Fred laughed. The twins were wearing signed sweaters today so people could tell them apart. Maybe we should make them name tags? “Brother, you were born sixth! You can’t argue with arithmetic!”
– That’s right! – George chimed in. – Now, if you’d been born third, you’d have been as important a bore as Percy!
– But if it were fourth or fifth…
– Then he would be just as smart…
– And beautiful… – The twins turned on their stereo again.
“Quiet now!” Molly shouted at her sons and turned to us. “Girls, Luna Lovegood is coming to see us now, she’s a very good and kind girl. I have a favor to ask of you, please don’t ask questions about her eyes or appearance. Poor girl…” The red-haired woman sobbed and wiped her tears with a handkerchief.
– What happened? – My mother handed little Hector to Emma, who began to seat the active little one in the child’s chair and table that Arthur had conjured up.
I pricked up my ears, just like my friends. In the films, Luna was a very strange, sweet, and memorable character. Her father, I think, published some kind of magazine in the style of Ren-TV, about reptilians or something like that.
“The Lovegoods are our neighbors, we have a lot of neighbors here: the Diggorys, the Fawcetts, the McKinnons, they’re all very nice people.” Mrs. Weasley calmed down a bit and began to tell her story. “Xenophilius and Pandora were a wonderful couple, they lived for science! He published a popular magizoology magazine, and she worked for the guild…” The woman sniffled. “Two years ago, Pandora was conducting another experiment and there was an accident… When I saw a bright flash, and then heard a powerful explosion, I immediately Apparated to the Lovegoods’ house, and there…” Molly poured herself a glass of juice and drank it down. “Pandora was literally torn to pieces, her remains were everywhere, and nearby I found a bloody and barely alive Luna, the girl was badly hit. Then Amos and Russell came running, they took the baby from me and went through the fireplace to St. Mungo’s.
The young wizard turned onto a nearby street and breathed in the pleasant evening air. Today was a full day off, and he decided to relax a little. Tomorrow evening, the stupid herd would fill the school corridors, and he wouldn’t have any peace, and then there was that stupid old man’s order: protect and defend Potter’s bastards. Severus hated those creatures more than anything in the world, because they were living proof of what Potter and Black had done to his beloved. He had so hoped that the Dark Lord would kill Potter and his brats, that he would then take Lily and they would live happily ever after, but alas… The Lord had fallen, and the brats survived.
When Voldemort disappeared, the Prince immediately realized the mess he was in and ran to the old man to bow down. The young wizard really didn’t want to go to Azkaban. After all, a couple of years ago, the Chief Warlock had offered him a partnership, but the proud half-blood had refused. However, this time, Dumbledore set such harsh conditions that he was sent packing, and the very next day, the young Potions Master found himself behind bars. Two weeks in the company of Dementors was enough for Severus to come to his senses, and upon the headmaster’s return visit, he happily accepted his “generous” offer, effectively becoming a slave. However, this wasn’t enough for the vengeful old man, and the Prince was forced to hand over the Death Eaters’ treasury, overseen by Malfoy, Bones, and Crouch. According to Dumbledore, this was how he bought his freedom from the Ministry. Severus felt sorry for Lucius, but his own skin was more valuable. Moreover, Amelia and Barty arranged everything in such a way that no one thought about the young potion maker.
Oh well, they’ll all pay for it, everyone! The mark on his shoulder hasn’t disappeared, which means the Lord is alive and will return sooner or later. The Prince has already figured out how to prove his loyalty to his old master: he’ll bring him Potter’s head! For that, the Dark Lord will forgive his weakness and cowardice, and maybe he’ll even get around to the Platinum Bitch’s adopted child, but it’s better to kill that little creature so that they’ll think it was someone else. No one wanted to repeat the fate of the Rowley idiots. But that will all come later, and now…
Lost in thought, the young wizard reached a tall, three-story building with tightly drawn red curtains and a bright sign reading “Mummy Rowle’s .” Old Joan Rowle owned brothels throughout Wizarding Britain, and in her establishments, you could always find a boy or girl to suit any perverted taste. Mummy Rowle’s establishments also allowed you to do anything you wanted with the prostitutes, so there was no shortage of wealthy patrons. The old witch also wasn’t above kidnapping, extortion, and selling lotus pollen. Many knew of this dangerous witch, but thanks to her connections in the Ministry and her friendship with Nott, Aurors always avoided her establishments. To most, Old Joan Rowle was an eccentric writer of children’s books and romance novels; it was her hobby.
Severus pushed open the heavy door and entered the building, a bell chiming familiarly overhead. The Potions Master glanced around; the richly furnished, dark burgundy hall was empty, and the scent of expensive perfume hung in the air. Mama Ro hadn’t skimped on the decor, after all, only wealthy and respected wizards visited her. The Prince approached the marble counter and rang the golden bell, and a young blonde in a revealing outfit immediately emerged from behind the screen.
“Good evening, Mr. Prince,” the girl smiled at the visitor. “Would you like the usual, or perhaps you’d like to try something new? This meat has already been processed, and they’re ready to fulfill your every order or wish.”
“No, thank you.” Severus grimaced in disgust. “I’m going to see Eleanor.”
“As you wish, fifty galleons.” The girl accepted the bag of gold and waved her hand toward the stairs. “Have a nice rest, no one will disturb you until the morning.”
The Potions Master cast a disdainful glance at the blonde, then silently turned and quickly walked up to the third floor, where he entered the room he needed without knocking. In the richly furnished and spacious room, a petite, red-haired girl with ample breasts sat on a large bed. Dressed in a translucent negligee that revealed all her charms, the little witch looked quite striking, but the dull look in her brown eyes suggested she no longer cared; she’d long since given up.
If it weren’t for the slave collar, Eleanor would have committed suicide long ago; in her heart she dreamed and hoped that another client, in the heat of passion, would overdo it and kill her.
“Master, hello.” The red-haired whore greeted the visitor in a quiet voice and jumped out of bed.
The prince didn’t answer and pulled out his wand. The girl trembled with fear upon seeing the instrument, but the Potions Master ignored her actions and began casting protective spells on the room. About ten minutes later, when the walls of the room were practically glowing, the wizard approached the girl and cast a glamour charm on her, turning her dull brown eyes bright green. After carefully examining the green-eyed, red-haired beast, Severus smiled contentedly and began quickly removing his clothes.
“Lily, I miss you so much.” Filled with desire, the Prince took a step towards his beloved and fell into darkness.
Severus jerked awake, his bottom cold and very uncomfortable, and with a jerk, he realized he was chained to a metal chair. The Potions Master immediately tried to activate the emergency Portkey on his wrist and broke out in a cold sweat—he couldn’t feel his magic! However, he was perfectly aware of the cold iron band around his neck, pricking it unpleasantly.
“Good evening, Mr. Prince, I see you’re awake.” A calm male voice came from the side.
His vision cleared completely, and the Potions Master quickly looked around, but what he saw didn’t please him. Lily lay dead on the bed, staring at him with glassy green eyes, thick blood flowing from her torn throat, and a look of relief on her face. Next to her stood a petite girl with short golden hair, wearing a maroon and rather revealing Hellsing uniform. However, upon closer inspection, the Prince panicked. The creature’s face, dressed in a Renegade uniform, was smeared with blood, and its eyes glowed with red flames. Staring at the monster, Severus didn’t immediately notice the tall, black-haired man with a monocle, even though he was standing right in front of him.
“Mr. Prince, my name is Walter, and I am a Master of Pain for the Order of Protestant Knights.” The man in the white shirt and black vest nodded politely. “I can’t say I’m pleased to meet you.”
– Do you even know who I am? – The Potion Master squeezed out in a hoarse voice.
– Of course we know, cutlet! – The monster appeared behind him and tousled his hair. – You are a pathetic and cowardly nothing.
“Victoria, stop insulting our new acquaintance.” The Master of Pain looked reproachfully at the monster. “Mr. Prince, do you know the reason for our visit?”
“N-no.” Severus shook his head in fear.
“Mr. Prince, please don’t lie, at least not to yourself.” Walter shook his head sadly and, with a wave of his hand, conjured a steel medical table in front of him. “Not long ago, you insulted the young Hellsing heiress, and Lady Integra asked me to give you a lecture. Such behavior toward the heir of a sacred family is unacceptable and must be punished.”
“If you only knew how much I want to disembowel you,” a dreamy expression appeared on the monster’s face. “First I’d rip off your arms, then your legs, then…”
“Victoria, control yourself, we’re civilized people.” The black-haired man pulled a leather package out of his pocket and, placing it on the table, began to unwrap it.
Severus’s eyes widened; the strange leather bundle was filled with torture instruments! The Potions Master recognized some of the pliers, needles, and scalpels, but the purpose of most of the objects remained a mystery to him.
“I… I’m sorry! I just lost my temper! I’m ready to kneel before Miss Hellsing!” the young wizard babbled. He really didn’t want to test the purpose of the torture instruments on himself, and it wasn’t hard to put on a guilty face and “sincerely” apologize.
“We don’t need your apologies.” The monster leaned over and whispered cheerfully in his ear, then bit him. “You taste like shit! Ugh!”
“Mr. Prince, behave with dignity, for you are the dean of the faculty and a role model for the younger generation.” The executioner finished laying out his instrument and smiled slightly. “Lady Integra asked me to tell you that taking out your hatred for your school enemy on his children is disgusting and does not reflect well on you. You must also remember that young Miss Rigel is Lady Integra Hellsing’s biological daughter. If you ever allow yourself such impudence again, you will wake up in our estate’s torture chamber and never emerge alive. Is everything clear?”
– Y-yes… – The Potions Master was shaking slightly. – Rigel Hellsing is the daughter of Integra Hellsing and has no relation to Potter or Black.
“Wonderful! You are a wonderful and understanding conversationalist.” Walter smiled tightly. “But we must cement this knowledge in your head. I have been the Order’s master of pain for several centuries, and I enjoy my work. It is a true art! When one pain replaces another, bringing relief and new unimaginable suffering. Do you know how difficult it can be to keep a victim conscious for many hours, sometimes even days, while preventing premature death or insanity? I remember, about a hundred years ago,” the executioner looked closely at Severus, “I tortured a traitor and heretic for five months, but in the end he went mad and had to be killed. Alas, Mr. Prince, our conversation is limited, for you have only paid this priestess of love until the morning.”
“Walter, all this nonsense about men with big schnozzles is complete nonsense!” The monster giggled playfully and flicked the Zelvar on the nose, then pointed her finger at his dignity. “Look at this pod.”
“Victoria, thank you for reminding me.” The executioner set aside his scalpel and picked up a long, thin needle. The end of this torture device had a small, spiked ball. “Mr. Prince, in my craft, the ability to heal is as important as the ability to inflict pain, which is why I closely follow the latest developments in modern medicine. I recently came across an interesting scientific article. Did you know that mundanes suffer from kidney stones, and the treatments for them are quite painful? Inspired, I created this little thing.” The Master of Pain played with the needle before the Potion Master’s eyes. “Well, enough of this idle talk. The night is short, and we still have so much to try…”
Walter waved his hand, and the chair legs slid apart, taking with them Severus’s legs, which were chained to them. Then the Hogwarts professor’s eyelids were carefully cut off and his head was fixed in place. He then learned the purpose of many strange objects and experienced immense pain. Compared to that, the Dark Lord’s Cruciatus Charm began to seem like a tickling charm…
