The three weeks truly flew by quickly and captivatingly, thanks to the colossal physical exertion, constant training, and the enormous amount of information the mentors diligently pounded into our young heads. Every evening, I simply collapsed; as soon as my head hit the pillow and my hand reached for Vasya, I fell asleep. Besides the fatigue and swollen brain, I was constantly plagued by muscles buzzing from tension and phantom pains throughout my body. The problem was that all energy drinks, painkillers, and tonics were strictly prohibited, and after the emergency treatment, my body “simulated” damage for a while. The master healers painstakingly and repeatedly patched up my poor body: they knitted broken bones, repaired a damaged liver and spleen, once even grew a new ear in half an hour, and I won’t even mention the reattached limbs. But first things first…
Let’s start with the fact that on the very first night, I jumped out of bed from the roar of nearby explosions, the crack of falling trees, and machine-gun fire. Soon, menacing animal roars joined them, and sometimes, when another machine gun or assault rifle fell silent, I could hear a human’s death scream. Mia also had good hearing, so a few seconds later she was standing next to me with a magic wand in her hand. We listened to the sounds of the battle unfolding nearby for about a minute and didn’t know what to do, because our neighbors couldn’t give a damn! The girls snored peacefully, completely oblivious to the chaos going on around them. One of the creatures roared especially loudly, and then there was an explosion that, it seemed to me, even shook the tent. And only then did our neighbors begin to act. Some… Well, how to act… grumbled and hid their heads under the pillow. But not all.
– Shit, people, did you forget to cast the silence spell again? – Vika sleepily waved her concentrator, and external sounds were cut off.
“What just happened?” I asked my neighbor cautiously, still clutching the magic wand in my hands.
– Huh? – Vika blinked a couple of times and yawned loudly. – The hunters found the Alpha team and, judging by the sounds… They’re not doing so well… They probably decided to have a quiet first night. They’ll get a good beating now, and by morning they’ll be as good as new. Okay, let’s go to sleep. – The girl turned her back to us and, wrapping herself in a down blanket, began to snore sweetly.
Hermione and I exchanged glances and decided to follow the more experienced girl’s example, so we also fell asleep. Though, with our wands in hand, you never know. The next awakening was vivid and memorable, as at precisely five in the morning a flashbang grenade flew into the tent, and just a few minutes later I was standing outside, catching the sun’s rays and listening to an annoying buzzing sound in my ears. That morning, I was taught a disorientation charm, which turned out to be quite simple and quite useful. Getting up in the morning taught me a lot, and all thanks to our educational officer, Olga Chernaya.
I truly respected this woman for her ingenuity and rich imagination; she never repeated herself once! If there was a flashbang grenade on the first day, the next morning I was blown out of bed by a wave of icy water. Then came enraged bees and wasps, making our squad resemble a team of Chinese beekeepers until lunch. And then it all went downhill: black smoke bombs, swarms of pixies and doxies, tear gas, a tornado, and once the major simply doused our tent with gasoline and set it on fire. Thanks to this variety, I quickly got used to sleeping in my clothes, and my Transfiguration skill improved significantly, as I had to rebuild my bunk and the ill-fated tent after almost every wake-up call.
Besides my skills in transforming scraps of wood and rubble into a bed, my vocabulary also grew. Every morning, Vasya would unleash such a volley of obscenities that he made a shoemaker who’d accidentally nailed a toe to the sole of his shoe look like an unkissed schoolgirl. Hermione and I weren’t the only ones with familiars: besides Vasya and Flora, our tent also housed two kneazles, a diamond turtle, an iron wolf puppy, and a small bear cub. There was also a falcon, but the proud bird preferred the vastness of the forest. These affectionate cuties weren’t exactly thrilled with extreme climbs either, so we often had to evacuate with our pets in hand. After a couple of days, Mia started swearing, as her fairy was the smallest and most fragile of all the pets, and with the help of the girls, she built Flora a miniature Hitler bunker, where she regularly hid. Taking animals to class was strictly forbidden, and on the first day I was even a little worried: what if Flora gets eaten? Or Vasya bites someone? However, my fears were unfounded, and the animals quickly got along well, which didn’t stop the snake from complaining every evening about the insolent flea-ridden creatures.
The morning warm-up was also “a joy.” On the very first day, each of us was given a battered paratrooper backpack, filled to the brim with stones, and we ran around the camp with these “weights.” On the one hand, a morning run was supposed to be enjoyable: fresh air, a pine forest, sunshine, birds singing—it’s beautiful, run and enjoy the views. But on the other, you’re carrying a backpack weighing almost twenty-five kilos, you’ve been running for two hours, and breathing is getting harder and harder, your clothes have long since stuck to your body, sweat is pouring into your eyes, so you can barely see your comrade running ahead. On top of that, the sun is mercilessly baking, and you regularly trip over pine cones underfoot. And so, every day, even in pouring rain and knee-deep mud, we continued running. And it was all worth it! In less than three weeks, my endurance had noticeably improved, and it was truly amazing! The main task was not to die and reach the finish line…
After the warm-up, classes began, delighting us with their variety: magical combat, fencing, blood magic, maleficism, dark magic, rituals, and a whole bunch of other tasty, interesting, and forbidden things. We were given so much useful information that I filled two dozen thick notebooks and barely remembered half of it, so I’ll definitely reread my notes when I get home.
According to the rules, the day always began with magical combat, not to be confused with duels! Olga explained to us right away that all duelists were athletes, their goal being victory, while we were soldiers, our goal being to kill the enemy and survive. Therefore, there were no forbidden moves in our duels, and “low blows” were even encouraged. Furthermore, we often fought crowd-on-crowd, as this was how we were trained to work as a team. It was a surprise to everyone that I could involuntarily strengthen and accelerate my body, something only masters and other high-ranking individuals could do. However, despite all my efforts, I never managed to control my battle frenzy; Olga often simply “switched me off,” as I couldn’t calm down otherwise. We certainly didn’t reach the level of full-fledged magical duels; essentially, they were simply showing us the basics. It was quite painful, but extremely clear.
After lunch, we always had theory, and after the first few lessons, our small group was split into subgroups, as our knowledge levels varied. But Olga didn’t care, and she kept pitting me against guys several years older! I got beat up more in those three weeks than I had in my entire life, including my last! I almost always ended up a bloody slab of flesh, but my pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let me give in; I always fought to the end, which earned the guys respect.
But that’s not the point now. As I already said, there was a wealth of information, and it was purely combat-related or nasty. We were taught how to send an enemy to the grave in the most inhumane way, or at least ruin their life. Sometimes they told us such dark stuff that I thought back to the family library with nostalgia. I especially liked one universal ritual based on blood magic; it had such variety! True, it required the sacrifice of a sentient being, but that’s a minor detail—you can always find someone you don’t mind putting under the knife. And even against this backdrop, Sergei stood out. The old man showed up on the third day and took it upon himself to teach us dark magic. Thanks to his efforts, my modest arsenal was replenished with several very dangerous spells, which I diligently practiced on the unfortunate pigs that were brought in specifically for this purpose.
Evenings were also fun: we practiced new spells, cast ritual circles, trained our body control, or even picked up blades. And here I really showed my true colors; my mother hadn’t taught me fencing for so many years for nothing! With a rapier in hand, I was practically invincible, and soon they were pitting two, sometimes even three, opponents against me. Taking up a blade, I’d fall into a kind of trance and begin a deadly dance: dodge an attack, parry a blow, and then counterattack, a hard block and a sharp lunge forward! My blade severed limbs and slashed through bodies; feeble attempts to penetrate my defenses were futile, and in the end, I was the only one left standing. During one of these classes, they pitted me against three guys armed with two-handed swords, and even after losing my left hand (I had to expose myself), I emerged victorious. After that fight, I was appointed assistant and entrusted with teaching the boys this difficult art! Of course, first, our quacks, or rather, the mediwitches, reattached my arm.
Speaking of which, these guys also trained us, in a very specific, yet very effective way. Before beginning treatment, the mediwitch would detail the diagnostic results, what spells and potions he would use, and what effect they would have. You had to clench your teeth and listen to the lecture, as these guys couldn’t care less about your bleeding, your guts spilling, or your limbs lying around. But now I knew a little about field medicine, and like the other guys, we often practiced spells on each other.
We developed very warm, sometimes even friendly, relationships with the boys and girls; we already knew most of them, and quickly became acquainted with the rest. Seeing this good nature and honesty, I even stopped holding a grudge against Riga. Well, they’re used to shortening names, so what? In our free time, we actively socialized, sharing experiences and knowledge; the boys were happy to explain things we didn’t understand or help us learn this or that spell. In return, Hermione and I also helped out as much as we could, mostly with fencing or shooting, the latter of which was a surprise even to me.
Two evenings a week, we went to the shooting range, just fifteen kilometers away, and there Mia proved to be the best. A girl obsessed with big guns, she shot flawlessly with anything she could lay her hands on, and at the sight of a machine gun or anything heavier, she’d start drooling and jumping for joy. So, during the third lesson, the instructors barely managed to tear the curly-haired witch away from her KPV (Author’s note: Vladimirov heavy machine gun) and ceremoniously presented her with a VSS (Author’s note: Special Sniper Rifle), calling on the staff sniper, Vityaz. That night, Hermione smiled blissfully and slept hugging her rifle. The experienced officer was unable to take the weapon back, so he simply resigned himself to the loss of government property.
And so it was every day: jogging, duels, theory, and then practice in the evening. It was a little annoying not having my Miraclephone at hand, but every three or four days I was allowed to call home. In a short time, I managed to chat with my mother and boast about my achievements, and she would share the latest news in return. I really missed that woman, and also that black-haired girl… A week after classes began, Elvira disappeared from sight, and towards the end of the term, it began to bother me. So after another dark magic lesson, I decided to talk to my grandfather.
***
“So, children, write down the spell combinations that Confraktus Ossa fits perfectly into,” Sergei Cherny smiled at the young students and pointed to the scribbled board behind him. “Especially the third one, my favorite. Rictusempra activates the shield, Stupefy overloads it, and then Bonecrusher turns your opponent into dog meat. Tonight, we’ll practice on the ‘favorite aid.'”
The four teenagers obediently began to scribble with their quill pens, and the mighty wizard leaned back in his chair with satisfaction. Watching his descendants absorb knowledge with such diligence and zeal, Sergei couldn’t help but chuckle. After all, none of this might have happened if he had refused the proposed adventure at the beginning of the century.
After gaining his mastery, Sergei worked as a mercenary in Europe for many years and earned a reputation as a powerful and skilled battle mage. Everything suited him: his “beloved” family was far away, good pay was close by, and beautiful witches were falling into his bed in droves—live and be happy! However, one hungover morning, he received a letter that made his headache worse: he had found a bride! Raised in strictness and discipline, Sergei accepted his engagement to a little girl from a purebred and respected family with equanimity, but the ransom amount made the aristocrat curse words that even a dockworker wouldn’t know.
The battle mage pondered the problem for three days, or rather, drank heavily, but it didn’t help much. He then wrote to his Master, and then waited another two days, bang… for a reply. The letter from Count Gunther Gonyai von Pesdyulyai was short: “Stop whining like a woman, and go fuck yourself to Russia, they pay well there now.” Sergei knew little about that country: wild, cold, but very rich and vast. Why the local Muggles and Mudbloods had decided to rebel was beyond him, and he didn’t care. He had met Russian aristocrats many times, and they always talked about the greatness and prosperity of their country.
He trusted the old grump, so he activated the portkey he’d been sent and found himself at Count Orlov’s estate. The influential aristocrat welcomed the English mercenary with open arms, and after reading his references, offered him a generous contract. Sergei immediately accepted, the moment he saw the enormous sum. Cherny still regretted not having broken the bastard’s neck back then, at their first meeting.
The experienced mercenary was appointed commander of an assault company, and he immediately rushed into battle! The Reds were poorly armed and barely trained, but there were plenty of them! This arrangement pleased the mercenary, who was paid for every kill, so Sergei fought diligently and with all the zeal of a Black Knight. The White officers even began to fear the “Black Executioner,” a nickname he earned for never leaving survivors and taking prisoners on principle. Thanks to the zeal of one money-grubbing militant, a precarious balance was established in the Tver province: the Whites lacked the strength to recapture what they had captured, and the Reds could no longer advance. Then the count tasked his son with restoring order in the territories under his control, and appointed the English mercenary as his bodyguard. Sergei shadowed the young sadist, and he was very displeased with what he saw, for the Black Executioner was a warrior, not a killer.
He’d seen entire villages burned before his eyes, women, old people, and children murdered, but before that, the punitive guards had committed atrocities the seasoned mercenary couldn’t even imagine. Sergei still remembered the shaggy boy sobbing over the body of his tortured mother when the count’s son drew his ceremonial saber and tried to hack the child to death. Naturally, he’d failed miserably with such a showy decoration, and the young count ordered the soldiers to flay the child alive. Sergei remembered those childish screams for the rest of his life, because when the bastards began nailing the screaming hunk of flesh to a post, Black’s mind snapped… He only came to when the entire punitive guard was dead, and the count’s son lay in pieces around him.
Sergei wasn’t a good man: he tortured, he killed, he did terrible things, but torturing small children… If you want to kill, just kill! It’s one thing to torture an enemy, quite another to torture an innocent child. The battle mage had no love for his family; they always treated him like a servant, barely considering him human, and he received Crucio for every offense. But he respected his great-grandfather. The powerful old mage had instilled in him many tenets of honor and dignity. His grandfather always said that a true warrior must seek a worthy opponent; only then can a warrior become stronger. He also often repeated that a child’s life is priceless and that Mother Magic herself will punish the apostate! And so it turned out, only Mother Magic chose a mercenary from Magical Britain to avenge the lives of the innocent.
Having come to his senses and realized what he had done, Sergei initially considered returning to Europe, but then changed his mind. The battle mage had repeatedly rummaged through the corpses of Red commanders and destroyed supply trains, so he knew there was always something to plunder there. According to White officers, Red Mudbloods had barbarously plundered the estates of aristocrats, and what they couldn’t carry off, they simply burned. The money-hungry mercenary couldn’t allow such waste! Therefore, quickly changing clothes and making himself a bag of expanded-space charms, Sergei decided to join the Reds, especially since it was becoming dangerous to be on White territory. A Russian aristocrat would hardly forgive the death of his son and heir.
For a couple of weeks, Sergei wandered the vast expanses of Russia, and he was deeply displeased with what he saw. Poverty and devastation, hunger and disease reigned in the villages, while the local count and his retinue basked in luxury, ordering expensive wines from France! Soon, the Black One stumbled upon a ransacked estate, where Muggles and Mudbloods hadn’t found the hiding place with the most valuable items! What can you say? Illiterate villagers! Quickly bypassing the defenses and stuffing a sack with loot, the mercenary left the estate with a smile and found himself in the sights of hundreds of rifles. Sergei still couldn’t understand how he’d managed to negotiate with the commissar and join the unit back then; perhaps it was the Creator’s will? But it was precisely thanks to this that he was able to prove himself in the ranks of the Red Army, and a month later he was invited—not summoned, but actually invited—to the St. Petersburg Revolutionary Military Council. On that fateful day, Sergei signed a contract with the Bolsheviks and became a full-fledged Red Army officer. And then he Russified a bit and met Masha…
– Teacher, may I speak to you? – The wizard was distracted from his memories by a small, black-haired, green-eyed creature who was raising her hand.
“I’m listening.” Sergei looked sternly at the girl. “Is something unclear?”
“No, I have a personal question.” Rigel looked stubbornly at the powerful mage. “Where’s Smith? I haven’t seen Elvira for two weeks.”
– Hm… Are you worried about your vassal? – The girl nodded. – Don’t worry, she’s with Valentina now. They should arrive tomorrow.
“Where… Ow!” Young Hellsing jumped up and started rubbing her bottom; Black always had a knack for casting stinging spells.
– She’ll tell you everything herself, any more questions? – Well, we can’t tell everyone that the little muggle-blood has awakened her gift, and now a master necromage is helping her with control.
“No way.” The cousin’s granddaughter muttered discontentedly and buried her face in her notebook.
“Have you written everything down?” The children nodded obediently. “Then you’re free to go. I’ll see you all at the training ground in half an hour.”
Sergei Cherny watched his students depart and broke into a satisfied smile. The battle mage was delighted with their descendants: strong, intelligent, diligent, and tough, just as future officers should be. The mage watched the young Hellsing chatting with her friend and chuckled involuntarily. The girl knew how to choose her vassals: Granger promised to grow up to be a strong and devoted witch, and Smith had managed to surprise even him. Rarely did someone’s gift awaken at twelve years old. Sergei even called Integra and asked her to check the girl’s parents; the daughter of mundanes couldn’t possibly be so strong! Either she was a descendant of an ancient family, or her parents were perverts who regularly had sex in the old crypt. And, alas, it was the latter assumption that turned out to be closer to the truth. Hellsing’s men discovered that in her youth, Smith’s mother had worked in the morgue, where Elvira was conceived among the corpses, but it was better for the girl not to know about it.
– Sergey, will you have dinner? – Masha entered the classroom.
– Of course! Where’s my big spoon? – The man jumped up and hugged his wife. – What will you give me?
“Buckwheat with pork or pilaf with chicken?” The woman smiled cheerfully and took two cans of stewed meat out of her pocket.
“We had pilaf yesterday…” Sergei sighed heavily and began transfiguring the dishes and cutlery while the sorceress heated up the canned goods. “Perhaps I should go hunting? We’ll organize a barbecue this evening?” The mage looked pitifully at his wife.
“I said: we’ll eat like children! Either cook shashlik for everyone, or eat canned food!” Maria looked sternly at her husband, and then decided to change the subject: “Sergey, this morning I was collecting Zvezdochka all over the arena again, aren’t you overdoing it?”
“Just right.” Black transferred the food to plates and pulled a flask of hot tea from his pocket. “She’s so proud, have you seen how big her crown has grown? It’s customary to adjust such a decoration with a shovel.”
“And that’s why you asked Olga to put only the oldest and most experienced against her.” Her husband nodded contentedly. “It’s not without logic.”
“Exactly! The girl needed to be knocked out of her mind!” Sergei took a long sip of the aromatic drink. “Rigel must understand that it’s not she who’s so strong, it’s her entourage that’s weak. Just a couple of weeks, and just look at the results?”
“I agree, the girl has found motivation, and she’s progressing very quickly.” Maria wiped her fork with a napkin out of habit. “Have you seen what she does with a rapier in her hands?”
“Yes, the little one has real talent.” Sergei put down his fork. “It’s like she was born with a blade in her hands.”
“Listen, I’ve got an idea,” Maria leaned forward. “Maybe we should send her to the competition? Let her represent Britain among juniors; she’ll have worthy opponents there, and she’ll understand her level.”
“Tempting,” the man drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the table. “There’s no point in sending her to a competition for simpletons—she could easily outshine a grown champion right now… Hmm… What if?”
“That’s what I meant.” The witch smiled contentedly and poured herself some tea. “The rules are simpler there, and the opponents are much stronger. When is the next championship?”
“This year, registration for participants ends in October.” The Wizard smiled contentedly. “I’ll talk to the Princess in a few days; I think she’ll be all for it. The Frogs and the Italians have been tying for first place for twenty years now. Let our Star show them Kuzma’s mother!”
“Okay, enough about that. Enjoy your meal.” Maria interrupted her husband, who was about to call his acquaintances at the sports committee.
“Likewise,” Black muttered and began eating the buckwheat he’d grown sick of after three weeks.
***
Waking up to a simple cry of “Rise!” felt strange, but after a few seconds of staring, I finally remembered that today was the last day, and after breakfast we’d be heading home. Smiling, I jumped out of bed and quickly checked my things; all my small belongings fit into a simple duffel bag. Nodding contentedly, I stepped outside, my eyes widening in surprise. Directly across from the tents stood two rectangular barracks with small, dingy windows and a large, laid table, along with Sergei and all the officers. Without a word, the guys and I stood in a single line.
“Good morning, comrade cadets!” Comrade Marshal greeted us loudly, and we responded in unison. “Congratulations on successfully completing the magical combat courses! You’ve performed admirably, and I’m proud of you! Now, get cleaned up,” Sergei waved his hand toward the strange houses, “after a wash, change, and then breakfast. Alpha Team will be arriving any minute. Boys to the left, girls to the right! Forward!”
The barracks turned out to be showers! What bliss! I’d spent three weeks cleaning myself with magic, and now we were allowed to splash around under hot streams of water—I’d missed it so much. After washing myself so thoroughly my skin squeaked, I went into the locker room and found a safe-box with my things on a shelf. My cheeks nearly split from smiling at that moment. Quickly donning my artifacts and changing into a light dress and shoes, I waited for Hermione and walked outside with her.
We soon sat down at a lavishly laid table—certainly not a festive feast at Hogwarts, but the dumplings with sour cream and fresh pancakes with condensed milk delighted me. My spirits were lifted even more when I spotted Elvira, who was chatting animatedly with a red-haired girl and seemed quite cheerful. Once everyone had eaten their fill, the officers began handing out Portkeys to the children and sending them home.
“Hellsing, Grager, Smith, come here!” Sergei shouted, and seeing my surprise—I was already starting to get used to Matrosova—he smiled. “Don’t look at me like that, you deserve it.”
The girls and I quickly found ourselves at Grandpa’s side, and he led us to a black Volga parked on the parade ground. I hoped we’d get to ride back in it; I didn’t want to be bouncing around in the dusty back of the car any longer.
“I’ll go with you.” Black nodded at the car and looked at me. “Your mother invited me over, it seems it’s something important.”
“The usual.” I shrugged and opened the back door of the luxury car.
Our teacher sat in the front, and my friends and I comfortably settled into the back seat, and only now did I finally relax.
– Girls, I missed you so much! – Elvira started hugging us. – How are you? What’s interesting? Why did you get your hair cut?
– Excellent! We’ve learned a lot, we’ve become stronger, and the haircut… – I adjusted my noticeably shorter hair. – It just happened… – And I turned to the window.
Haircuts are a sore subject that I still can’t shake. Hermione even cut off her luxurious braid in tears. I haven’t had a haircut since being discharged from the hospital, so my beautiful black hair grew all the way down to my ass… waist. Mia also had a luxurious mane… But during the morning duels, they clearly explained to us that such hairstyles are unhealthy. No matter how hard we tried and experimented with hairstyles, after a few duels, my long locks would become disheveled and get in the way. When one of the boys grabbed me by the hair and yanked me sharply, only to have his fist break my jaw and send me flying, my patience snapped!
That same evening, my friend and I discussed it and decided to get a haircut. Now our hair barely reached our shoulders, thanks to the girls. Of course, with the help of potions we could restore everything to its original state, but we decided to leave it as is; the new hairstyle really did make it easier to train.
“Girls, these are for you,” Elvira said, shyly taking two Eiffel Tower figurines out of her purse. “Souvenirs.”
“Thank you.” Hermione began to examine the gift with interest. “Where from?”
“Valentina took Ira and me to Paris,” Smith smiled sparingly. “We lived there for almost a week…”
– Holy shit! – I smiled and looked at the black-haired girl. – So, while we were overcoming all the hardships and privations here, she was chilling out in France! Tell me!
“There’s nothing to tell, I nearly lost my mind there.” Elvira’s spirits sank. “There was so much pain and despair, it was really hard, but I managed…”
– Could you give more details? – Hermione looked at the girl in confusion.
“A couple of weeks ago, I started hearing voices from beyond the brink,” Smith raised her head, and only now did I notice that her irises had turned almost black. “They started teaching me control, and places of mass murders or burials are the best places to do that; the voices are loudest and clearest there.”
– And where were you? – I hugged my friend, even though I had guessed.
“First in Leningrad, there’s Repina Street and Moscow’s Victory Park (Author’s note: during the siege, corpses from all over the city were brought to Repina Street, and on the site of the park there was an open-air crematorium where more than 130,000 victims were cremated),” the girl squeezed my hand tightly. “And then we visited the catacombs under Paris, there’s a huge underground cemetery and several ruined necropolises (Author’s note: more than 6,000,000 people are buried under Paris).”
– At least it wasn’t for nothing that you went underground? – Mia patted Smith on the shoulder.
“No, I can block out the whispers now. It’s a constant struggle, but Teacher said I’ll get used to it soon.” Elvira smiled proudly. “Ira did it too, we became friends.”
– Cool, did you go anywhere besides the dungeons? – I was also interested.
“Of course! Paris may be disgusting, but it’s a very beautiful city!” Our dark-haired friend beamed and began excitedly telling us about her trip.
Chatting merrily and sharing impressions, and admiring the cultural capital along the way, we leisurely arrived at the palace with its portal arch. I’d never been to St. Petersburg in my past life, and this time the city delighted me. I’ll definitely come here as a tourist and simply stroll along these beautiful streets, and then sit on the banks of the Neva. But that’s all for later, for now we entered the luxurious portal hall, quickly took up our place in the rune circle, and a bright flash of transport landed us in London.
“Oy-vey! Just a moment.” The old Jew took off his glasses and theatrically wiped them with a handkerchief, then put them back on his nose. “Young Hellsing, and with her Sergei Cherny himself—the fear and terror of all Chinese schlemiels. Are you here for a stroll or on business?”
“Hello, David Markovich!” My grandfather nodded politely, and the girls and I curtsied. “On business, of course, they don’t give you a moment’s peace.”
“I understand,” the portal mage nodded. “Sergey, once you’ve finished your important business, be sure to stop by my relatives, the Goldsteins. They want to talk to you about a very profitable deal!”
– Are you related? – I remembered the enterprising Jewish boy and shuddered.
“But how could it be?! Our people wandered the desert for forty years in search of a better life,” David Markovich sighed. “And how could we not become a big, happy family after all we’ve been through? I remember…”
“I get it, I’ll definitely drop by,” Sergei interrupted the old Jew’s thoughts. “We’re really in a hurry, goodbye!”
“Oh, young people… You’re always in a hurry…” the consulate employee grumbled and smiled. “See you at the Goldsteins’. Moses’ wife is promising wonderful forshmak for dinner, so Sarah and I will be there too. See you there!”
After saying goodbye, we left the welcoming Soviet consulate and walked outside, where Victoria and Hermione’s father were already waiting for us. After a hearty hug, we went to our respective cars and finally headed home. I’d missed you so much! If you count, I’ve only spent a couple of months at home over the past year, and that’s very little! And the worst part is, there’s no way to change that. Even in regular Imperial schools, children attend full boarding classes—tradition, sir.
Lost in such sad thoughts, I didn’t even notice how our Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of the estate’s porch, where a platinum-haired blonde stood with Walter and the brave lieutenants. As soon as I saw my beloved, I practically leaped out of the car and soon found myself in his tight embrace.
“I’m glad to see you, daughter.” After a couple of minutes, Mom pulled away and looked at me with a smile. “The new hairstyle suits you.”
– Thank you. – I smiled back. – What’s new?
“We’ll talk later, let’s go have breakfast.” Mom put her hand on my shoulder, and the whole group of us headed to the dining room.
It was early morning, but our cooks did a fantastic job! Hot sandwiches, scrambled eggs with fried bacon, and a whole host of other delicious treats, but most importantly – tea! The freshly brewed Earl Grey was simply superb, and I drank several cups of it out of sheer hunger. After finishing our meal, we went our separate ways: Mom and Sergey went to the study, Elvira ran to Lori, and I went to my room.
A shower is nice, of course, but a bath with bubbles and mineral salts is much better! I quickly took off my clothes and admired my athletic figure in the mirror for a moment. Hmm, I’ve even got breasts now, now I just need to get rid of the scars… I hope Dagworth can do it… Immersed in the hot water, I even moaned with pleasure. Gorgeous, and I’ll chat with Mom after dinner and find out why Grandpa came. That powerful mage never does anything for no reason.
Having had my fill of swimming, I threw on a robe and collapsed on the sofa in front of the TV, truly missing the comforts of civilization. I remained in this horizontal position until lunchtime, and after enjoying English cuisine, I returned to this pleasant pastime again, albeit briefly. Around five o’clock, Victoria appeared and announced that my mother was waiting for me in her office. I had to get up and change, and ten minutes later I found myself in the patrimony of the head of the Order of Protestant Knights, and the sight that greeted me took my breath away for a few seconds.
It was all about Sergei, my grandfather sitting in a chair, leafing through my notebook filled with memories of the Harry Potter films! Of course, I knew the powers that be would find out my secret, but I wasn’t going to tell my grandfather, even though he was related. Sergei chuckled at the next page and looked up from his reading, then looked at me tenderly.
“Granddaughter, my dear,” the wizard smiled warmly, and I involuntarily took a step back. “What else are you hiding from us?”
– Nothing! – I shook my head and jumped up in place; my grandfather’s stings were very painful. – Ow! For what?
“For everything! Why the hell didn’t you tell me earlier?!” Sergei stood up and threw his notebook on the table. “Why the hell did you risk your life?! You knew there’d be a possessed teacher at the end of the year and you kept quiet! I would have personally strangled that idiot!”
“I wanted to check!” I looked at my mother for support, and she nodded. “There are too many differences and inconsistencies! What if this is all just the delirium and fantasies of a dying brain?!”
– Okay, don’t yell. – Grandfather held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture. – Did you check? Are you sure?
“Yes, almost everything fits…” I lowered my head. “There was a troll, a stone, and a teacher possessed by the Scum too…”
“I see, so the main events are repeating themselves. Interesting…” Sergei sat back down thoughtfully. “According to the plan, this year there’ll be a nasty thing disguised as a black notebook, then Dementors, and then the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year… But we’ll think about that later; right now, finding the artifact is more important. Did the youngest Weasley have one?”
“No, while Genie was buying a wand, I carefully checked her things and found nothing.” I narrowed my eyes. “And is it okay if there’s a huge basilisk crawling around the school?”
“Forget about the Guardian, he can’t really harm the students,” Black waved him off. “It’s even written about in Hogwarts, a History , and we even went down to the Slytherin ritual hall more than once while we were studying.”
– Where is it written? – My eyes widened in surprise. – I have this book, and there is not a word about the basilisk in it.
“So they cut it again.” The man grimaced with displeasure. “I’ll come home and send you a copy of my copy; it was printed back in 1802.”
“What were you doing in the Chamber of Secrets?” Mom looked at Grandpa with interest. “Scientific experiments or…”
“Or… This room is well shielded, many of the founders’ restrictions don’t apply to it.” Sergei smiled cheerfully. “We took some cute little witches with us, and there… Ahem… Well, you get the idea.”
“I see,” I said, not at all interested in knowing what the pure-blood heirs were doing. “And the entrance to the toilet is on the second floor?”
“Of course not! The great Slytherin would run to his hideout through the girls’ restroom?! Utter nonsense!” Black chuckled quietly. “The entrance’s location was kept secret and was only revealed after a secrecy oath.”
– So you can’t tell us? – Mom looked at Black and took out her cigarette case.
“Of course I can. The secret could have been revealed to the Slytherins or to my family, and since Star is my granddaughter, there’s no problem.” Grandpa thought for a second, and the smile disappeared from his face. “Bitch! I forgot! What a little bastard! I’ll personally swap his arms and legs! Greedy bastard!”
– Grandpa, what’s wrong? – I carefully addressed the swearing wizard.
“Looks like your psycho cast a Fidelius, so you can forget about the main entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.” The man took the cigarillo from his mother and sat back down, looking disappointed. “What a bastard! Fine! There was nothing valuable in there anyway, no big loss.” Sergei took a drag on his cigarette. “The more important thing is finding his diary, and that’ll be difficult. If I understand correctly, that kind of junk is shielded from almost all search charms and artifacts.”
“So, did you figure out what this notebook was?” Mom looked worriedly at Black, and I lured the teapot over and sat down next to her, for which she received a grateful nod.
“I guess we now know for sure that Tom Riddle is alive and dwelling as a disembodied spirit…” The man scratched his head and stubbed out his cigarette. “There are many ways to survive, but judging by the information provided, your little dark lord chose the simplest and most idiotic way. Now his madness and inappropriate behavior are understandable…”
– And what is it? – I shifted nervously in my chair.
“A Horcrux, also known as a phylactery, is a nasty but reliable thing.” Sergei looked at us and sighed heavily. “Basically, this idiot split his soul into several pieces and stuffed the fragments into objects. After the ritual, they become nearly indestructible and perfectly shielded. Looking for them is useless; they could be anything. And anywhere. But the most dangerous thing is that these objects possess pseudo-sentient powers and carry out the programming embedded within them, because inside them sits a personality imprint of the idiot who decided on such perversion. Ugh!”
– What’s so bad about them? – I asked and poured the aromatic drink into cups. – And you said there were several of them.
“Everything! Starting with the fact that while a Horcrux is intact, a wizard’s soul can’t travel beyond the Boundary and can fly around the world for centuries in search of a helper, since it’s impossible for him to be reborn.” Sergei took the cup from me with a nod. “But the worst thing is the loss of sanity. I don’t know how the soul works, but when you tear a piece away from it, you lose a part of yourself, and for any wizard, reason is the most important thing. And the more Horcruxes, the more insane the wizard will be. Potter destroyed one in his second year, and your little lord didn’t die, which means there are at least two. And finally, Horcruxes are mental artifacts and quite powerful ones; such nasty things can influence the mind of an adult wizard, and even take control of a child. Your notes describe it in detail.” Grandfather tapped my notebook. “So, I don’t know how to find this nasty thing, but destroying it will be easy.”
– How? – My mother and I asked the question at the same time.
“What up!” Black chuckled. “Dagworth cartridges are made of cold iron and consecrated silver, just fire a bullet into the diary and that’s it.”
– If only I could find it… – I muttered discontentedly and took a sip of tea. – Is it really that easy to divide a soul into parts?
“It’s complicated, of course, but one ancient mage came up with it, and the others picked up on the idea.” Sergei spread his hands and looked into the corner of the office. “Maybe the fanged one can suggest something?”
“I’ll give you a hint, mortal…” Alucard emerged from the shadows, wearing his signature red cloak and wide-brimmed hat. “The spark of the creator cannot be divided, and only the Old Gods and the Mother can destroy it…”
The ancient vampire’s ingratiating whisper and grin sent shivers down my spine. He dislikes the Black One, oh how he dislikes him. The monster grinned wickedly, revealing his maw from ear to ear, and with an invisible movement, appeared behind my mother.
“Then how do they create these Horcruxes?” I turned and looked at the family guardian, who was currently massaging my mother’s shoulders. “If the soul is indivisible, that’s some kind of nonsense.”
“It’s quite simple…” The monster paused and turned to me. “Where do you think your memories, emotions, and personality are stored? You died once, but you haven’t forgotten anything… Mother decided to keep you.”
“Alucard, no more riddles.” Integra lifted her head and looked into his glowing red eyes, to which he chuckled and waved his hand dramatically.
A bright white star appeared in the center of the room, quickly growing a dirty gray shell resembling a planet’s atmosphere; even clouds and continents appeared. Looking at this, I seemed to begin to understand the meaning of his words.
“The spark, also known as the soul, accumulates knowledge and experience throughout its life. Our personality is built from our memories, and by creating this artifact, mortals violate the integrity of the shell and lose their minds. Very foolish.” The vampire spoke in a quiet, ingratiating voice. “The spark needs time to recover, but even so, this sentient being will never be the same again.”
“This is all very interesting, of course, but who is this Mother and why did she preserve my memories?” “Learning more about Horcruxes was important, but I was interested in something else.”
“Mother is the Abyss, the Primordial Darkness, Death. She has many names, but only a select few know the true one.” The ancient monster’s whisper made me feel as if someone had gone over my entire body with sandpaper. “And why you preserved yourself—I don’t know. Mother is generous, and her true intentions are unknown to anyone.”
I wanted to ask Alucard many more questions about the Abyss, like why he called her mother, but the adults were preoccupied with pressing matters. So I decided to postpone the conversation with the ancient monster.
“It’s clear that nothing is clear…” Sergei sighed heavily and beckoned a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. “You better tell me how we can find this anchor?”
“No way, he’ll find you himself.” Alucard broke into a sly smile. “He’s stupid and arrogant, you won’t have any problems.”
“Could you elaborate on this point, please?” Black uncorked the noble drink and filled three glasses, two of which went to Mom’s table.
“Thank you,” the blonde took a sip and turned to the vampire. “Alucard, don’t be so sneaky, that scum could be a threat to Rigel!”
“I’ll keep an eye on her, I promise.” All the mystery vanished from the vampire. “The anchor will definitely be at the school, but with whom – I have no idea. Of course, I can stroll through Hogwarts and check the students’ belongings, so young, so innocent, and so delicious…” The monster swallowed and licked his lips.
“No need! We’ll find it ourselves!” Black almost choked on his drink, probably imagining what this monster could do to a school full of kids.
– Okay, we’ll figure something out about the diary. – Mom put the empty glass on the table and looked at Sergei. – What about the Dementors and the Tournament?
“There’s still plenty of time before those events happen, there’s plenty of time. I’ve been keeping an eye on Zvezdochka and I have a proposal…” Grandfather’s eyes flashed blue for a second, and I had a bad feeling about this.
“I’m listening,” Mom leaned back in her chair, and Alucard continued to massage her shoulders.
Sergey downed his glass in one gulp and began to share his idea, which, contrary to expectations, turned out to be very interesting and enticing. Ten minutes later, we’d forgotten about the diary and started discussing the event scheduled for November. About an hour later, we returned to discussing the upcoming events at Hogwarts, but hadn’t really decided on anything. Grandpa promised to study everything in more detail and gather everyone in September; maybe some other ideas would emerge. He also promised to talk to his acquaintances at the HUYA Research Institute, where they’d been working for years to create the elixir of life. The results, of course, had been zero, but perhaps some of their findings could be useful.
On that note, we parted ways. Sergey said goodbye to everyone and went off to his business. Mom and I had a quick dinner and went to my room, where we talked until late at night. It had been a very eventful day, and I passed out again, hitting my pillow.
