Chapter 63
Happy New Year to everyone!
After lunch, Dumbledore, under the interested and curious gaze of his students, rose from his throne-like chair and, with a mournful expression, began to recount the tragic fate of Professor Quirrell. He claimed that the beloved and respected Defense of the Dark Arts professor had fallen victim to a Dark Curse, which had driven him irrevocably insane. He had attempted to kill the hero of Wizarding Britain, Harry Potter, and his faithful friend, Neville Longbottom, but the brave Rigel Hellsing (with the support of the faculty, of course) stopped the treacherous foe in an unequal battle, which resulted in the said Quirrell suffering fatal injuries and ultimately dying.
Whatever one may say, Dumbledore is a masterful orator. The old man delivered his fiery speech for thirty minutes, while the entire school listened with open ears, slack-jawed, and breathless rapt attention. At the end, the headmaster added that for courage, bravery, and nobility, he had awarded Rigel Hellsing (me, that is) Hogwarts’ highest honor and asked me to support the young heroine with a standing ovation. I nearly went deaf from the applause in my honor. Then the old man gently chided Harry and Neville for their unauthorized wanderings through the castle at night; had they stayed in the common room, they would not have fallen into the mad professor’s hands. For this prank, the headmaster, with a heavy heart, was forced to deduct a hundred points from the boys each, but expressed hope and faith that they would improve and not let down the House of Proud Lions again. So, all is well: the villain has been defeated, the DMP has completed its investigation, classes will resume as usual starting tomorrow, and next year, you kids will have a new teacher. Everyone’s dismissed.
The Headmaster took his seat, and the Great Hall buzzed like a disturbed beehive. Some of the Gryffindors glared at the Chosen One and his friend, for thanks to these two, our house had finally found itself in the deep end, in last place, in short. The rest rushed to me with congratulations and questions, everyone eager to learn the details of that night’s events, namely, how I killed Professor Quirrell. I practically had to kick myself and plead the Headmaster’s orders, saying he forbade me from revealing the details. They seemed to believe me.
About fifty more students surrounded Wood and Flint, who stood in the center of the spacious hall. It turned out they were the ones holding the betting pot! These two are enemies only on the Quidditch pitch, but in real life, they’re practically best friends. Lavender told me this when I asked, “What the hell is going on?” A real fuss erupted around them: Flint shouted out names, and Wood, consulting a parchment, handed out bags of gold to the students. It turned out that all September you could bet on when, how, and from what source the next Defense of the Dark Arts teacher would die, or whatever else… And right now, the lucky winners were collecting their winnings; judging by their faces, many were delighted by Quirrell’s tragic end.
“I won one Galleon and ten Knuts!” A rumpled but extremely pleased Weasley landed opposite me. “I bet fifteen Sickles that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher wouldn’t survive the school year!”
– Why didn’t you tell us about the betting? – Justin looked reproachfully at his friend.
– Um… I thought everyone knew… – Ron lowered his head, embarrassed. – Sorry, mate, next year we’ll make a bet together!
“It’s wild to be so happy about a man’s death…” Elvira looked with displeasure at the cheerful crowd surrounding the local bookmakers and shook her head.
“They’re not happy about the psycho’s death, but about winning.” Hermione smiled, hugging her friend and turning to the pleased redhead. “What kind of betting options are there anyway?”
“Various, I didn’t really look into it.” Ron scratched the back of his head. “Fred told me to bet on the sure thing, and I didn’t go wrong, but there are a lot of options. The highest odds are for guessing the exact date and cause of death, but so far there haven’t been any lucky ones.”
“I’ll be taking part next year too,” I said, smiling cheerfully as I finished my juice. “The second year should be a self-absorbed peacock and a liar, who also happens to be a talented writer, so we’ll see.”
Our group was in no hurry to get up; the heated crowd had tightly surrounded the Quidditch team captains and completely blocked the exit from the Great Hall, so we decided to wait a little.
“Congratulations, Hellsing, you’ve saved a national hero.” Staring at Wood, I didn’t notice a snarky Slytherin girl approach me from behind. “Have Potter and his fat friend already acknowledged their life debt to you?”
“I don’t need anything from them.” I turned to the smiling blonde, next to whom stood the dark-haired and cold Daphne, a real Yin and Yang. “Are you here on business or just to chat?”
“One doesn’t interfere with the other,” the girl dramatically put her index finger to her chin and thought. “This Sunday, June 5th, is my birthday, and the girls and I are planning a little picnic on the shore of Black Lake, so I decided to invite you and your friends.”
– Of course, how could we miss such a significant event? – I see no reason to refuse.
“Great! Meet me in the hall after lunch. Don’t bring anything, we’ll have everything ready.” Malfoy smiled slyly and looked at Weasley. “Sorry, boys, but I’m not inviting you. We’re planning an all-female gathering.”
– It’s a big deal, – Ron frowned, – we have nothing better to do than listen to girls talk, right, Jas?
“You’re right, my friend,” Finch-Fletchley nodded in response, “we’d better play chess, and maybe even go to the library, exams are coming up soon.”
“You really know how to ruin my mood…” Weasley exhaled heavily and poured himself some pumpkin juice. How does he drink this nasty stuff?
“Rigel, is it true that Longbottom shit himself from fear?” Malfoy smiled cheerfully, and Ron choked on his juice and laughed loudly.
Waiting for my nod, Diana broke into a satisfied smile and headed to her desk with Greengrass. How did she know such details?! I hadn’t told anyone about it, especially not the two idiots. Only the deans and the headmaster remained. I wondered which professor was leaking the information to the students. The old man certainly didn’t need it; maybe the Prince? That big-nosed brute was happy with any opportunity to screw over the hated Potter. Okay, I’ll ask Lavender in a couple of days; I’m curious to see what the school rumors will spread.
The Slytherin common room was located in the dungeons and, according to students from other houses, was extremely cold, dark, and damp, but this was not the case. The wood-paneled walls, draped in rich, thick, dark-green fabrics, the floors covered entirely in soft-pile carpets, and several constantly burning fireplaces, coupled with warmth and comfort charms, created a homely and cozy atmosphere in the “snake’s lair.”
Nymphadora Black, the school’s prefect and unofficial leader of the house, the most powerful witch of her generation, and simply a beauty, sat comfortably in a massive black leather chair. Three other girls, Vega Black, Diana Malfoy, and Daphne Greengrass, sat on the adjacent couch, listening attentively to their older friend and mentor.
“Vega, do you understand everything? If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.” Dora looked at her sister with a smile. “I’ve already warned the dean that starting next year, you’ll be the unofficial leader of the faculty, and that’s a big responsibility.”
“Don’t worry, sister, Diana and Daphne will support me, and the third and fourth years already listen to me.” The black-haired girl nodded in response. “But what about the sixth and seventh years? Yaxley and Travers are also aiming for the top and are waiting for you to graduate from Hogwarts.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already decided that.” The elder Black lifted the privacy charm with a wave of her wand and addressed the large man sitting in the armchair by the fireplace. “Marcus, can I have a word with you for a moment?”
“Of course, my queen.” Flint jumped to his feet and gave a mock bow. “Anything for the incomparable Lady Black.”
– Clown. – Dora smiled back.
“Why did you invite me? I can’t believe you actually agreed to go on a date with me.” The guy broke into a satisfied smile.
“Don’t even dream about it, besides, I’m engaged.” The Queen of Slytherin showed off an expensive ring on her ring finger.
“Life’s unfair.” The big man came closer and brazenly leaned on the chair the girl was sitting in. “We need to hurry up and find my father a bride.”
“What’s the rush?” Vega turned to Marcus; she liked this big guy who often pretended to be a fool.
“So long as my face is whole and all my limbs are intact, you’ve seen my father and older brothers, haven’t you?” The girls nodded thoughtfully in response. “I’ll be the same in five to seven years. Our family has been hunting dangerous magical creatures for six centuries, and I intend to continue the work of my ancestors.”
“I thought you dreamed of a sports career…” Malfoy looked at the Quidditch fan in a new way.
“Oliver dreams of the professional league, but I play for fun, and it’s also good training for my leadership skills.” The big man proudly pounded his chest with his fist. “Soon I’ll lead a team of seasoned hunters, and I’ll have to be responsible for the lives of these wizards.”
“Stop bragging, I called you here for a reason.” Nymphadora looked at the boy reproachfully. “Marcus, next year Vega will be the unofficial leader of the house, and I’m really counting on your support if something happens to her…”
“We’ll do everything in the best possible way.” The brute nodded gravely. “If anyone doubts your little sister’s leadership qualities, the boys and I will quickly explain that they are mistaken in their judgment.” Flint winked at the younger Black. “Vega, just point out the rude guy to me, and I’ll sort it out.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” Dora nodded contentedly. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
“Well, the Flints and the Blacks are long-standing allies, so I’m always ready to help the future head of this most ancient and noble family.” The boy bowed playfully and headed toward his chair.
“By the way, Hellsing accepted my invitation and will be at the picnic,” Diana reported to her eldest relative with a satisfied smile. “Her vassals will be coming too.”
– Great, we can talk calmly… – Dora leaned back in her chair.
“Muggle cur and blood traitor!” Nott, sitting nearby, heard the hated name and hissed angrily. “That mad bitch must be strangled, but first brought to her knees…”
“Shut up, Nott,” Vega snapped at the little idiot, who looked down at his book on charms in displeasure.
“Let her continue!” Flint approached the first-year with a cheerful grin. “Are you brave enough to tell her this to her face? Or wasn’t a week at St. Mungo’s enough for you?”
“She’ll pay for her insolence!” The freshman looked defiantly at his older friend.
“Theo, remember this once and for all,” Marcus took the book from Nott and looked him seriously in the eyes. “Hellsing’s enemies don’t live long. You can hate this girl, despise her, but don’t become her enemy—don’t let your family down.”
“Are you familiar with Mad Hellsing?” Dora looked at her comrade with interest. “What can you tell me about her?”
“Well… We met under less than favorable circumstances…” The big man blushed and scratched the back of his head. “But I liked the girl: smart, strong-willed, and sensible, someone you can deal with. And she’s also well-trained and armed; her rune-engraved musket gave me goosebumps.”
“It’s called a machine gun,” Diana decided to show off her knowledge.
“Really?” Flint feigned surprise. “I always thought the MP5 was a German-made submachine gun. It’s a cool gun, by the way, but our family prefers revolvers and Soviet AKs; they’re as reliable and deadly as goblin-crafted blades.”
– Where from? – Malfoy almost choked on air.
“And you think we go to Nundu with a wand and bare bottoms?” Marcus chuckled and pulled a huge Magnum revolver, covered in runes, from his pocket. “In our profession, any weapon is useful, and no matter what anyone says, Muggles have achieved unprecedented heights in the art of killing their own kind.”
“Muggles are stupid, half-intelligent animals!” Nott jumped up from his seat. “When the Dark Lord returns…”
“Shut up!” Nymphadora glared at the first-year. “If I hear you say that again, I’ll wash your filthy mouth out with soap.”
“Theo, you should watch your language,” Flint patted the boy on the shoulder. “You shouldn’t make unnecessary enemies, and I warned you about Hellsing. Don’t pull the manticore’s tail, just ignore it. You’re a Slytherin and the future head of the family, and you’re acting like a Gryffindor.”
“Sorry,” Nott nodded dutifully and went to his bedroom.
“Idiot.” Marcus watched the boy go. “I’ll write to my father today to tell him not to sign long-term contracts with the Notts, you never know.”
“And I’ll write to Papa, let him talk to Nott Sr.,” Diana thoughtfully reached into her bag. “Theo, of course, is a real idiot, but our families have had a long and profitable partnership.”
“Agreed,” the elder Black nodded to her cousin and looked at the big man. “Okay, I need to study for my exams. Flint, will you take the lady to the library?”
– Of course! – The gentleman gallantly offered the girl his hand, and they left the cozy living room.
At this point the Black family council ended, and the remaining girls went about their business.
***
The last week of school was finally over, and I was very glad because I was very tired, and not from studying, everything was fine there. The professors tried to cram as much knowledge into the students’ heads as possible and gave them as much theory as possible. Defense of the Ancients was also excellent; Dumbledore taught it personally, and I must say he’s an excellent teacher; it’s a shame he only had two classes.
I’m so tired of all the attention, I even started carrying an invisibility cloak, and it’s all because of those fucking Hogwarts students! I’m so sick of getting looks of admiration, but mostly of fear or suspicion, some even pointing fingers at me, the rude bitches. One of the deans, and there was no one else, leaked all the information to the students, and for a few days, Hogwarts went crazy. Everywhere the students were discussing what happened at the top of the Astronomy Tower, and the more they talked, the more delusional their reasoning became.
The apotheosis of universal idiocy manifested itself in the person of our Lavender. Yesterday, Saturday evening, as we were getting ready for bed, this blonde with blazing eyes demanded to see the Hellgun! My eye twitched, because according to the “reliable information” we’d received, I’d killed Quirrell with a six-barreled flamethrower that spews streams of hellfire! It was upon seeing this monster, adorned with the skulls of heretics, that Potter and Longbottom shit themselves in fear and, according to rumors, now suffer from bedwetting. I only managed to fend off the furious blonde by threatening to take Cthulhu away from her. A serious internal struggle was evident on her face at that moment, but the pink teddy bear won out over her curiosity, and Brown left me alone.
That Sunday was unusually sunny and hot, so my friends and I were delighted to leave the stuffy castle and head to the Black Lake in the company of the Slytherins. Diana was joined by the first-year Serpentine girls, as well as Vega and Nymphadora. The appearance of Parkinson and Bulstrode surprised me a little, as I’d never seen Malfoy interact with these girls, although I had no idea what was going on in their common room. We quickly walked in silence to the far edge of the lake, and the eldest Black began preparing the area for the gathering, and I was quite captivated.
Dora waved her magic wand like a seasoned conductor and, in just five minutes, transformed the wild sandy shore into a comfortable retreat. A twisted wooden gazebo appeared, along with several tables and wicker chairs, and the elder Black conjured a couple of hammocks between the neighboring trees. Now that’s magic in the home.
While Nymphadora was busy setting up, Vega and Diana quickly unpacked small picnic baskets and began setting the tables, and the girls and I set about helping them with this difficult task. As the tables filled, Hermione and Elvira’s eyebrows rose higher and higher, understandably so: the Malfoys’ food had clearly been sent from home. Well, they didn’t serve lobster, shrimp, and foie gras at Hogwarts, nor blue cheeses and other French delicacies. When we finally finished, Pansy deftly filled the glasses with grape juice and, kissing the blonde on the cheek, raised her own in honor of the birthday girl.
To my surprise, the gathering was quite peaceful and cheerful. Even Parkinson behaved herself and didn’t mention Muggles or Mudbloods once—that’s what life-giving bullshit does to people! An hour later, we split into groups based on our interests: Hermione was locked in a heated discussion with Daphne about combining magic and mundane science, Elvira was arguing with Diana about the compatibility of certain potion ingredients, and Millicent and Pansy were acting as judges and listeners. I sat at the same table with Vega and Nymphadora, and under the blanket of silence, I was also having an interesting conversation.
– So, you consider me your sister, but you don’t encourage me to return to the family? – I carefully examined the serious girls.
Judging by their serious looks, trying to convince them was utterly pointless; the Black daughters were completely convinced of their own rightness. I paused for a moment, considering that thanks to Lily, Black blood still flows through my veins, and these girls are, though distantly, related to me. Well, at least I’ll hear them out, and then we’ll see.
“Rigel, we know perfectly well that you’re Harry’s sister and Sirius’s daughter.” Nymphadora grimaced slightly at the last name. “I looked through Uncle’s memories, and that idiot… Vega, no offense.” The youngest Black smiled sadly. “He did everything he could to make you hate our family. So what’s the point of asking you to come back? Lady Hellsing raised you, she’s your family, but you have Black blood in you, our blood. I was taught from childhood that all my actions must be for the good of the family.”
– And where were you before? – I looked skeptically at my “sisters”.
“We were following the clan head’s orders: stay away from you,” the younger girl muttered. “We’re still blatantly violating our elders’ orders.”
– Um… Why? – I stop understanding these girls.
“Because it’s stupid!” Nymphadora slammed her open palm on the table. “We’re related and we should help each other, we need to stick together! Yes, you hate Sirius, but what does that have to do with the other Blacks? Neither I, nor Vega, nor Cassiopeia have done anything to you! We only learned of your existence on September 1st! So we decided to let you know that the Black family doesn’t reject you, and we’re ready to help if needed.”
– Are you sure I need your help? – I don’t believe in selflessness and family feelings.
“Rigel, don’t be stupid and refuse an outstretched hand.” The elder Black looked at me reproachfully. “In ten years, I’ll be the head of the Black family, by which time you’ll be leading Hellsing, and it’s better for us to cooperate than to quarrel. Yes, your Order is powerful, but our family is also the richest and most influential in Magical Britain.”
“Will you be the next head of the family?” I already roughly understood the train of thought of this smart girl, but the statement about her future leadership over the Blacks surprised me.
“There’s no one else… Grandfather Orion is already old,” Vega said, lowering her head. “Uncle Regulus simply isn’t interested; he’s completely immersed in research at the Department of Mysteries, and my father is too emotional and short-sighted, and his reputation isn’t so great… Aunt Andi works at St. Mungo’s, and she’s also happy with everything, and Cassiopeia and I are much weaker than Dora. She may be considered a half-blood, but she’s still a Metamorph and very powerful magically—that more than makes up for her heritage. And given our influence, no one will say a word against us.”
“I see.” I nodded to the girls and leaned back in my chair. “Then we’ll cooperate.”
“Excellent!” Nymphadora smiled contentedly. “We don’t have much to offer each other right now, but if you need anything, you can always turn to Vega and Diana; they’re smart girls.”
“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” I took a sip of juice and began to admire the lake’s surface. The sunset in the mountains was incredibly beautiful.
“Um… Rigel, I have a personal favor to ask you.” I tore myself away from the beautiful spectacle and looked at Dora, who was fidgeting nervously in her chair. “I’m graduating this year and will be leaving Wizarding Britain for a while, but my fiancé is staying at Hogwarts. I’d like you to keep an eye on him.”
– Why me? – My eyes widened in surprise. – What, there’s no one else? And who is he to keep an eye on him?
“Harry Potter, I’m engaged to your brother.” The eldest Black smiled cheerfully, her eyes turning bright green. “Uncle Siri always wanted a son and spoiled that little brat too much. My fiancé is used to getting everything he wants and often behaves inappropriately, and he has absolutely no respect for Vega and Cassiopeia… And he’s afraid of you. So, if Harry starts acting up again, please bring that little brat down to earth. And after the wedding, I’ll take care of his rehabilitation.”
Vega nodded contentedly, and Nymphadora broke into a predatory smile. I supported the girls and smiled too. After all, if they’re asking me to give my brother another beating, who am I to refuse? Our conversation then became more lively, with the metamorphosis girl explaining that Lady Walburga had initiated the engagement to consolidate the Black and Potter assets, and she had no right to refuse. I also learned that Dora was leaving for Germany this summer, where a Master of Combat Magic was waiting for her, and she planned to obtain her Mastery over the next seven years. Vega, for her part, told me that starting next year she would be the House Mistress and would warn me if anything happened; not all purebloods were happy with my presence at the school. The third-year also advised me to be careful around Nott; that little bastard had a strong grudge against me.
Overall, the initial collaboration with the Black sisters seemed mutually beneficial: I kept an eye on Potter, and Vega fed me information about the moods and rumors in Slytherin. In principle, I was happy with this. After finishing our discussions, we returned to the other girls and chatted cheerfully for about an hour about all sorts of nonsense. That evening, even Pansy seemed normal to me; at least, I didn’t sense any negativity from her. We set off for the castle when it was already nine o’clock and time to retire to our cozy beds. The final push lay ahead of us, and we needed a good night’s sleep.
***
The exams flew by quickly and even a little cheerfully, as it was impossible not to smile at the chaos unfolding in the school. Looking at the other students, I couldn’t shake the feeling they’d only just learned about the upcoming exams five minutes ago. Everyone was running somewhere, some were frantically flipping through their notes, others were trying to read a thick tome in the time allotted for breakfast. Things were even worse in the library; the fifth and seventh years had practically taken up residence there, while the rest were carrying out barbaric raids. Seriously, I even witnessed two fights! First, two seventh-years clashed over a rare Defense Against the Dark Arts book, and then three fourth-years got into a fistfight over some supplementary literature on runes. Fortunately, Madam Pince kept a watchful eye on order and literally threw the offenders out of the abode of knowledge by the scruff of the neck.
Seeing all this chaos, my friends and I decided not to leave the common room. Oddly enough, during exam period, Gryffindor Tower turned out to be the quietest place in the school. After all, most of the cubs stormed the library or holed up in the Great Hall, where entire councils gathered at the House tables, studying in groups and rereading the most comprehensive notes, which not everyone had. Godric’s followers certainly didn’t like studying! Weasley also succumbed to the general hysteria and ran around the castle with wild eyes for a couple of days, but looking at our calm group, he eventually calmed down.
The exams themselves were conducted the same way as at the school I attended in my past life: students would enter the classroom one by one and draw a question. The first question was theoretical, the second practical. Thanks to Occlumency, the girls and I knew the textbooks by heart, and in terms of practical skills, we were well ahead. The tasks were simple, too; we’d gone over them many times in class.
In Potions, I was given a compatibility chart for the theory part, and then I brewed a potion that would turn hair into a horsehair. McGonagall demanded I describe the basic principles of turning something living into something inanimate, and then demonstrate it by turning a mouse into a snuffbox. It was the same everywhere, except for History of Magic and Astronomy. We took the latter at night, and had to find and mark a specific star on a star chart. I was curious myself about how a ghost would check our written assignments. Despite all the teachers’ efforts, the girls and I got excellent marks on everything; it couldn’t have been any other way.
Much to my regret, we weren’t able to leave Hogwarts early; Mom and Victoria were in Africa and had promised to arrive in London for my arrival on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione’s parents were also busy; they planned to work hard for the first half of June so they could spend more time with their daughter later, and Justin decided not to leave the group. So we devoted the last two weeks to our regular studies; we still had exams at the Imperial Academy to take. However, we did find time for a break; when I was getting sick of geometry and biology, I suggested the boys visit Hagrid, as our bearded good man had become suspiciously quiet lately.
It didn’t take long to get ready; our group quickly put the books away and headed to the forester’s hut, fortunately the weather was sunny and windless. The big man was delighted to have guests, quickly put the kettle on, and began setting the table, while we sat down on the rough, heavy stools.
– Hagrid, why are you so sad? – Ron noticed that the forester was not very talkative today.
– Well, just now Headmaster Dumbledore, he is a great man, yeah, he got angry with me, yeah… – The big guy took his tablecloth out of his pocket and blew his nose into it, – he is right, of course, yeah.
– What happened? – I put down a very tasty and huge smoked leg, the size of an overgrown turkey.
“It’s all because of Fire, yeah, I let the director down, he’s a great man.” The half-giant sadly drained his bucket of moonshine and herbal infusion. “He strictly forbade me from having interesting pets, right, and I… And he… What’s so bad about a little dragon? I’d train him, and the Prince would use him for potions…”
The forester couldn’t take it anymore and burst into tears. We had to spend about half an hour calming this vulnerable fellow down, and at the same time thinking about how to help him.
“Hagrid, have you ever tried getting a new pet?” Justin looked at the gamekeeper with enthusiasm. “Choose a pet, and then ask the headmaster’s permission! It’s not that hard!”
– Well, that’s it, there’s a problem here, yeah… I already tried, but Headmaster Fluffy, he’s a great man, he wouldn’t let me keep him, yeah… He’s such a sweetheart, I’d introduce you, but he, uh, was sent back, yeah, to Greece. – Hagrid poured himself another forty-degree liqueur.
“Who is Pushkin?” Elvira asked our bearded interlocutor cautiously.
– So, this Cerberus, yeah, Dumbledore, he’s a great man, he brought him in especially to guard the Forbidden Corridor, but that’s a secret. – The half-giant pointedly put his index finger to his lips. – We became such good friends, yeah, he was so good at cracking bones and licking my hands, yeah, absolutely stunning! But they say it’s really dangerous to keep such an interesting animal near a school, yeah, they’re all lying! How can Fluffy be considered a dangerous animal?
“Well, yeah, Cerberus isn’t dangerous at all, just a huge, ferocious three-headed dog,” Ron muttered quietly, then turned louder to the good-natured giant. “So, maybe you should get someone else?”
“No, that won’t work either, yeah… The director, he’s a great man, yeah, he forbade it.” The big guy stared sadly at the empty bottle of moonshine.
“What do you mean, banned? Are you not allowed to have any relationships at all now?” Was it just me, or was there a hint of relief in Ron’s voice?
– Yeah, can you imagine? Dumbledore, he’s a great man, yeah, he came to see me a couple of months ago and saw a book on my desk, yeah, the very one Rigel gave me, yeah. I read it often, though, the pictures in it are really pretty, yeah. – The forester stood up and carefully took the copy of the book on magical creatures that had been given to him from the shelf. – He took the book from me for three days, can you imagine? And then he gave it back, yeah, and he marked every animal here, which ones I could have and which ones I couldn’t, can you imagine?
The big guy opened the book, and we saw that the name of almost every animal was marked with a red cross, but there were also green ones. As I understood it, the director marked all those who were more dangerous than XXXX and above, just in case.
– Well, let’s say, about the fire drake, occamy and Oni, I agree… – Justin turned the page, – and the diving villain…
– Are you kidding?! I met this beauty once, we hit it off right away, yeah. – The forester stroked his beard contentedly.
“And what if it feeds on human brains?!” Mia indignantly pointed her finger at the detailed description of this dangerous creature’s diet. “What’s wrong with the fuzzy or the murtilla?”
– You, this one, tell me to get a Kneazle, they’re so boring, aren’t they! – The half-giant sat down, offended. – I’ve been looking through this book for a month now and I don’t find anyone interesting, yeah. I’m really bored and lonely, yeah.
“Purely theoretically, what isn’t forbidden is permitted.” Finch-Fletchley looked thoughtfully at the almanac. “Hagrid, have you tried breeding a pet or discovering a new one?”
– What? – The forester almost choked on his moonshine, and then thought for a couple of minutes, while I gave Justin a good kick under the table. – Well, that’s an idea! You can cross a couple of boring animals and get one interesting one, right? You guys are really smart, yeah, I never would have thought of that on my own!
“Is it true that chimerology is officially banned in Wizarding Britain?” Hermione tried to appeal to the voice of reason, but he was already drunk and had a thick beard, and therefore did not yield.
– Well, you won’t tell anyone, will you? – Hagrid looked at us pleadingly. – We’re friends, right?
“Of course we’re friends…” Weasley sighed resignedly.
“Hagrid, where are you going on holiday?” I decided to change the subject, because this big guy was already ready to run to the Forbidden Forest and crossbreed boring animals without asking their wishes.
– What the hell is this? – The half-giant tore himself away from his thoughts and stared at us with interest. – And why would you go there?
– Wait, have you never been on holiday? – Ron stared at the gamekeeper in shock. – Hagrid, how many years have you been working at Hogwarts?
– I didn’t even count, yeah, it was a long time ago… – The big guy scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. – And what difference does it make? I like it here, the professors respect me, yeah, there’s always enough work, yeah. In the winter I shovel snow and feed the animals, in the summer, you know, I grow pumpkins, yeah, I help Madam Sparut in the greenhouses, and Filch sometimes calls for help, yeah. And then there’s my lot of things to do in the forest, what with the unicorns and thestrals, I don’t have time to go on holiday anywhere, yeah. And I don’t know where that is, yeah.
“Hagrid, you don’t understand. Every employee is entitled to paid annual leave, like a long weekend, usually a month a year.” Hermione began to explain vacation to the half-giant using her fingers. “They either take it all at once, or they split it in half and take two weeks off twice a year.”
– Exactly! My dad always takes vacation in August, sometimes he gets called to work, of course, but he’s home for most of the month. – Ron also chimed in. – Hagrid, haven’t you noticed that the professors leave the castle for the summer?
“You’ve noticed, but they’re going home or to their families, and where am I supposed to go?” The forester sadly filled his glass. “My dad died a long time ago, yeah, my mom and the tribe are wandering around somewhere on the continent, and I don’t have any other relatives, right. This is my home, at Hogwarts…”
“Then you could just go on a trip!” Ron persisted. “You could go to Romania or Greece, there are nature reserves there, you’ll see interesting animals there, and you’ll talk to magizoologists, I’m sure they’ll learn something from you!”
– Oh, come on… – The forester blushed, either from embarrassment or from the alcohol. – And what money would I have for it, anyway? I don’t know how to save, you know.
“So you’re entitled to vacation pay!” Justin reached into his bag and pulled out a fountain pen and parchment. “We’ll calculate it now! How much is your salary? Since when have you been working at Hogwarts? We need to calculate your length of service. Where’s your employment contract? Does it list any extra pay for hazardous work and overtime?”
Hagrid hiccupped and widened his eyes in horror at the young aristocrat’s onslaught, then silently reached for another bottle. We spent the rest of the evening calculating the approximate vacation pay for the Hogwarts Keykeeper, taking into account his length of service, and helping him write his leave application. The last part proved the most difficult—the half-giant wrote just as he spoke! Watching the enormous fellow hold his quill with a trembling hand, his tongue lolling out in effort, as he struggled to scribble out the letters was quite amusing. But eventually, Hagrid completely lost it and asked for a sample, saying he’d sober up tomorrow, cure his hangover, and go see the Headmaster—he’s a great man, huh?
After saying goodbye to the kind and thoughtful forester, we returned to the castle. The remaining time needed to be spent wisely, so we went to study for exams at the Imperial Academy, but rest wasn’t an option either. I still had a serious conversation with my mother ahead of me, and honestly, I was scared shitless. What if she didn’t like the fact that her daughter wasn’t quite who she’d been pretending to be all this time? Although I was already confused myself; after so many years, my past life seemed more and more like a dream… A vivid, detailed nightmare full of pain and disappointment… Maybe that’s how it really was? Or was I just fooling myself? Fine, I’ll come home and turn myself in the next day; I’ve dragged it out enough already…
***
The great light wizard, holder of the Order of Merlin, First Class, and all the rest, stood by the window of his office, watching with a warm smile as the Hogwarts Express departed Hogsmeade. The school year had ended, the students had gone home, and for the next two months, peace and quiet would reign within the ancient castle. Dumbledore saw off the red train, billowing black smoke, and stepped away from the window. This year hadn’t gone according to plan at all: Tom had managed to escape, the Chosen One had disappointed him, and one of his students had died, and the latter was the last thing that upset the old wizard most. An innocent boy had died because of the stupidity of a few pureblood idiots, and the headmaster tried not to think about the Rowley daughters. However, there were some positives: Potter’s sister had reappeared, and the girl continued to delight the old schemer.
Hellsing proved to be strong, cruel, even ruthless, a little cynical, and, most importantly, intelligent. The platinum bitch had raised her daughter well, to her credit. True, he had to help a little, but it was the least Dumbledore could do for the unfortunate child, after all, he was partly to blame for what had happened to her. Albus ran his hand over the rough human skin cover of the ” Magnum Opus” and with a wave of his hand, returned the rare book to the shelf of his personal library. It took some doing to get the Hellsing family vassal to notice this priceless tome, which Dumbledore had seized from the library of his sworn friend in Berlin.
The director chuckled and glanced at the desk, where the Philosopher’s Stone lay on the scales, ready to be returned to its rightful owner tomorrow, though the light mage’s fingers itched to destroy such an abomination. Alas, not all our wishes come true.
“We’re missing 27 grams…” Albus smiled slyly into his beard. “But Hagrid could have dropped the priceless artifact, who knows… I shouldn’t have entrusted such an important task to a tipsy half-giant, even though he’s completely loyal to me.”
Speaking of Hagrid! Dumbledore glanced with an amused smile at the crumpled sheet of parchment lying next to the scales. The expensive paper smelled strongly of smoked meats, had several smudges, and even a semicircular stain from a large mug, reeking of cheap alcohol. The text of this “document” was excellent, and the headmaster even decided to put it away in his personal library… He also desperately wanted to give the gamekeeper an ABC book, but he shouldn’t offend his good-natured subordinate.
The astonishing “document” read:
kama: vilikam the wizard Absos Dablador.
from cavo: from Hagrid.
Zaivlenya.
I’m Hagrid, asking you to send me on vacation. I have the right. Everyone goes, and I want to too.
I even need some tips, I ask you to give them too.
I’m going to Greece to see Pushka. I miss him.
Date. Signature (cross).
“Fawkes, who do you think tipped him off?” Albus reread the message with a smile. “Although, who cares? Hagrid deserves it; he’s been working for the greater good for years.”
The light wizard chuckled again and pulled his wallet from the top drawer of his desk. Sighing heavily, Dumbledore began counting out the gamekeeper’s “vacation allowance,” which, like his salary, wasn’t provided for in this position. According to Hogwarts regulations, the gamekeeper was only provided with food and shelter; everything else had to be obtained independently by hunting and gathering in the forest. The Ministry reviewed contracts with faculty and deans annually, but the simple-minded gamekeeper was brazenly ignored, despite the headmaster’s protests.
“Well, we’ll change that soon…” Albus muttered when he finished counting out the gold coins and put his visibly thinner wallet back. “And this game will probably be much more interesting than what we originally planned… More difficult, more dangerous, but much more interesting.”
The director turned his gaze to the chessboard in the corner of the office; almost all the pieces remained in place, only the white queen had “eaten” the black rook…
