Harry Potter and the War of Wizards, a harry potter fanfic

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Harry Potter and the Wizarding
World

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Harry Potter and the Wizarding World

Chapter

1 The Last Command

Dear Harry!

If you are reading my letter now, it means that our friendship came to a very quick and tragic end, which

- unfortunately, in these troubled times - could be expected. That's also why, I hope you'll forgive me for calling our relationship friendship, because it seemed to me that I could really consider you my friend, and not just a cold principal-student relationship, or the prophecy and the fight against Voldemort.

You were very important to me, and you always will be, as much as perhaps no one else in this world. Although there were, and still are, people who were close to me... but I'd rather talk about that later.

Maybe you've noticed, maybe not, but lately my strength has waned dangerously, and my reflexes, which were considered so great in my youth, were no longer enough to be considered a worthy opponent against Lord Voldemort. The duel that took place in the atrium of the Ministry exhausted me more than I had dared to think before, and although I continued to try to appear strong and energetic, inside I was

far from it. In vain is the soul still young, if the body is already old.

However, despite recognizing and accepting my limitations, I tried to remain a thoughtful leader of the Order of the Phoenix and provide assistance to Rufus Scrimgeur and the Aurors.

However, my most important task was not this, but to provide you with guidance and help to the best of my ability, and to try as much as possible to postpone the moment when you will be forced to face Voldemort. Now that, with your effective help, we have learned the truth about Tom Denem and the Horcruxes with which he achieved immortality - for I am writing this letter on the very night that you walked out the door of my office with the new information - it has become clear to me that our most important task is: to gain time.

To my greatest regret, we could not use Time-Winners much to achieve our goal, so we can only rely on our own skill.

As you know very well, we have to destroy four of Voldemort's horcruxes so that you can then face the lord himself - and I need to extend this time as much as possible. You, Harry, however talented and excellent a wizard you are, are not ready to take on a monster like Voldemort. You have to learn and develop a lot, and by that I don't necessarily mean seeding charms and spells, much more is needed! According to my hopes, I will still be able to give you the best of my knowledge, with which you can successfully confront Him - more successfully than I or your parents. However, for this we would need some very fortunate developments: the Ministry's standing in the fight against the Death Eaters - in which the aurors and officials are not excelling at the time of writing these lines. That is why we created the Order of the Phoenix during the first war, whose task was to be able to fight against the Death Eaters even when the Ministry was unable to do so for some reason (political considerations, incompetent officials, or the collapse of the leadership).

It would also be important that Lord Voldemort's attention be drawn to the war, and that he cannot concentrate fully on your hunt.

It would also be important to always have someone who gives you guidance, who does not allow you to get lost in the tangled forest of the fight against Voldemort, who teaches you to be a worthy opponent, and that you emerge victorious from the fight. As I have already mentioned, I took this task upon myself and put it before all my other tasks - many people were unable to understand this, but I cannot blame them, since they did not have the information (the prediction, the existence of horcruxes) that I did.

However, like you, I also had to fight my own inner demons that whisper doubt, fear, and uncertainty in my ears. While you have dealt with them excellently so far - your behavior after the death of Sirius dispelled all my doubts about this - while I

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I rather fell short in the fight. We would need time, Harry, mainly you to find all the horcruxes and destroy them, and me to not be alone in the search. And for my bad luck to be complete, I have the least amount of time at my disposal.

It is very important that you have a helper even when I am no longer around. I was also thinking about this problem while writing this letter, as it is difficult to decide who to let in on the secret, who could that person be, preferably an adult member of the Order of the Phoenix with excellent abilities who will stand by you if I am forced against my will get out of the fight. I considered my options for a long time, I counted all the names that could be considered.

My first thought was Remus Lupin, the man who was closest to your parents after Sirius, whom you could call your uncle if Sirius was your godfather. He is truly the kind of person who would stand by your side from the beginning of the fight to its last minute, and if necessary, would die for you, just like myself. Yes, Lupine seemed the perfect choice for this responsible task in many ways. And when I was about to cast my vote for him, the aforementioned demon of doubt slyly but cleverly whispered in my ear: I'm in a hurry. I can't decide on the first name that comes to mind out of sheer convenience without checking out other possible people. Convenience is a luxury I can't afford these days.

That's how I continued to buy my possible followers and joined Alastor Mordon. Alastor is also a person with whom I almost distanced myself again, since there are few members of the Order of the Phoenix who are as thoughtful, careful, but at the same time strong and intelligent as him. I know that you've felt Auror ambitions in yourself since you were four years old, and you can also attribute this to yourself, Alastor, who - although he wasn't actually the Professor Mordon, but I'm sure the real one sees it that way - first planted the bug in your ear about the noble and honorable profession of aurors. When the time comes, you could even call him your master, who would teach you the ins and outs of the profession, and he would surely fight by your side to the end, because Alastor's essence is the fight against black mages.

The next name on my list was that of Minerva McGonagall, who would replace me as Director, as well as the head of the Order of the Phoenix, and as the secret master of our new headquarters when I left. Minerva made a promise last year that if it breaks, if it breaks, she will train you for the Auror profession, which you so desire. He has known you since you were a baby, he was there with me when we left you on your aunt's doorstep with an orphaned leaf wrapped in a blanket, with the freshly cut scar on your forehead - in short, he was there from the moment this fight began for you. I know, because he mentioned to me several times that you had a great influence on him since your first days at Hogwarts, and although he hid his feelings behind his well-rehearsed stern gaze, he also committed himself to the Chosen One.

I'm in a tough spot Harry. I read through what I wrote, look at the names, recall the people they cover, and I know that none of them are up to the task. And here it is again, the demon of insecurity, asking me wickedly if I might be up to the task? Who do I think I am? Can I really understand what you are going through? I have fought black mages, taught generations, seen my students grow up, fall in love, rise to glory or fall, and those who simply disappeared into the multitude of faces without having accomplished anything noble or terrible. Did I

learn from them, or did I just teach them? They say that the teacher is also taught by his student, not only the old man passes on his knowledge. And I know, because I have the example in front of me, my sin, which I have already confessed to you that I did make a mistake. I was really vain and stupid at the same time, which is an unfortunate combination: I underestimated you when I thought you weren't ready to learn and accept the truth at a very young age. I should have known that youth is not like the world of mature adults. I should have known that even a ten-year-old child could more easily accept the truth that the prophecy hides. I should have told you when you asked me in the infirmary, after you faced Voldemort for the first - or second - time. At first you would have been terrified, of course, but the miracle of the child's mind, which adults appreciate so little, is that it is much, much more flexible, because it develops and changes day by day, as it takes in more and more of our wonderful and at the same time horrible world.

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In light of these, can I really still deceive myself that I am a good patron of yours? I know, now you are asking yourself why I am boring you with my own doubts, since if you are reading this letter, I am not even alive anymore.

The fact that I write out my mistakes and mistakes in this way is good for two things. On the one hand, I can teach you with it, I can show you for the last time what the world of adults is like, me, who was so grown up that I forgot what it was like to be a child, to you, who is just now entering the world of adults.

On the other hand, it is also good for me to finally be able to explain to myself why I felt it was a wrong choice to pass the baton to one of the already mentioned people. Each of them could be just as good a teacher as I am. I can already see their mistakes: Remus, who loves you

and would even die for you, but this is exactly the problem. After all, you, as the person closest to him, love him as much as he loves you. If such a tragic moment came that you lost him, his death would be as much a

blow to you as Sirius's. The emotional shock would result in the same thing as in my case - the demon of doubt and fear.

Alastor, with whom he has no such love, would be a wrong choice for another reason. He is a person who is careful, circumspect, a believer in planning and thoughtful execution, and maybe at first glance it seems to you that - please forgive me for the strong words - you and a hot-headed and hasty young man would make a good team. But while you might be able to adapt to him, due to your already mentioned flexible youth, he would not be able to do the same. And it is not expected of him.

Minerva, who has been your teacher for six years and is a truly highly capable witch, is the perfect person for a job like running Hogwarts or the Order of the Phoenix, but she is very likely to make the same mistake as me due to her age. She would protect you, protect you, as befits a teacher and grandmother of two small children. But it would hold you back. His fearful care would not let you prevail, which could be fatal in the fight against Voldemort.

So you need a person who can be of most benefit to you in such a task. Someone who is a strong enough, well-trained sorcerer, knows the danger of fighting against black mages, is sufficiently careful and deliberate when necessary, but also flexible enough if the situation requires it - and above all: you do not feel attached to him. This is important so that you can let him go if you have to, so that you don't collapse, if you lose him in the

fight, you can stand up again after him and continue the fight with an unflinching face until you defeat Voldemort. There is only one person who meets these requirements: Severus Snape.

I know what you're thinking right now. In the last six years, the teacher-student relationship with Professor Snape has been far from fruitful, and believe me, I understand why. I know that no matter what happens, you will never think of each other as friends, but in the current situation, you would benefit from each other for the reasons already mentioned.

Severus is one of the few people in whom I trust completely, completely. I know he would never betray us, never choose Voldemort over the Order of the Phoenix, since he already saved my life in June, when Voldemort's family ring almost killed me. You shared your fears and concerns with me, that Severus is actually the Dark Lord's man, and that he and Mr. Malfoy are preparing some horrible assassination attempt against us. Well, since I'm dead according to them, I can tell you that you were half right. Draco Malfoy was indeed tasked by Voldemort to kill me to prove his loyalty. He also sent the cursed opal necklaces and the poisoned wine, I know very well.

But I also know what kind of person Draco is. Despite appearances, he is not quite his father's son. There is still hope for him, because I can see that his cruel task is taking a toll on him more and more every day, and that is why he tries such reckless plans as the necks and the poison.

But now about Severus: you've asked me several times why I trust a former Death Eater who, moreover, is currently in contact with Voldemort and is known to be an excellent Occlument, which he can use to hide when he lies. You're not the only one who asked.

Professor Snape has a personal motive for fighting the Death Eaters, a motive he has only told me and no one else. I won't tell you, Severus will. You will know he is telling the truth.

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Now Harry, please listen to me again. At the end of this letter, let me tell you my last command, which I give as the leader of the Order of the Phoenix to the Chosen One, and also to my friend, my son, you, Harry. Go to Severus Snape with this letter after reading it! I already informed him about everything, he knows what I know. I don't know how many horcruxes we managed to destroy before I died - I hope all four, but the situation is the same even if none.

Severus will help you from now on.

And now, Harry, it's time for me to say goodbye. According to them, my time is up. I don't know how I'm going to die, how I died. Maybe a Death Eater, or Lord Voldemort himself finished me off, or maybe another assassination attempt by Mr. Malfoy had finally achieved its goal? Somewhere I also hope that the latter was fulfilled, because that way more people would not fall victim, like Miss Bell or your friend Ron Weasley.

Trust Severus, as I do. He's a good man, he wouldn't let you get into trouble because of his mistake. He will take care of you as he took care of me when the need called for it. I know I made the right decision, no matter what my demons tell me. I don't make mistakes anymore.

Sincerely yours and love, Albus Dumbledore Dated:

Hogwarts, 21 April 1997

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Chapter 2 Confessions and conversion

- Potter! You damn kid! Vernon Dursley shouted as he pounded on the door of the smallest room of his magnificent garden house with one hand and opened the lock with the other. The door opened and Mr. Dursley burst in, pepper red. "This is already the fourth time we've woken up to your slurring this summer."

If it happens again, I'll call the doctors to put you in the emergency room. You belong there anyway!

Outside of him in the room was a thin, black-haired boy named Harry Potter, who was sitting on the cot in the corner, clutching a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

Uncle Vernon now reminded Harry most of a full-bodied bulldog with his wide muzzle and drooping muzzle.

"Bo-sorry... I had a nightmare," the boy said, wiping the sweat from the dream off his forehead.

"You need to eat so much candy before bed," this statement was quite ridiculous as Harry had never been given a single piece of candy or a bite of chocolate at his foster parents' house in his life. However, Harry knew that if he started arguing with his uncle now, he could expect a long and exhausting argument, so he didn't say a word. And Vernon Dursley grumbled out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Harry slumped back onto his pillow, closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. This is his fourth such dream since he received the letter from his old professor, Dumbledore, which fell out of a fireball that appeared in the middle of his room a few weeks after his return, along with a red and gold feather. Harry knew that the letter had been delivered by Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, in this way, probably his last task in the dead Headmaster's service. The bird left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on the night of Dumbledore's death and has not been seen since.

He remembered that night several times and it kept appearing in his dreams. However, what he told Uncle Vernon wasn't entirely true

—he wasn't having nightmares about the headmaster's death. He was no longer haunted by terrifying nightmares when he experienced the death of Cedric or Sirius. Now he no longer felt like a victim, an unfortunate child, but a sorcerer who thirsted for revenge.

What he felt because of Dumbledore's death was only cold acceptance in his waking life, but in his dreams, in his subconscious, it was anger. Hot, gnawing anger that arose in him when he read the letter from beyond the grave.

It was cruel to read these lines, in which the headmaster, in his letter written before his perceived death, proves to him what a good and trustworthy person Severus Snape is, who executed the gray-haired mage callously in an instant. It was such an inglorious, humiliating death! The greatest wizard in the world is disarmed by a seventeen-year-old child, then dies helplessly at the hands of his confidant and initiate, with the shock of betrayal on his face. When Harry saw these in his dream, he thrashed around furiously, trying to free himself from the paralyzing curse that Dumbledore had put on him, with which the wizard wanted to save his life. And he shouted, raged, cursed, but nothing helped. Even though he screamed in his sleep into Dumbledore's calm face that Snape was a traitor, a murderer, evil, he did nothing. The past could not be undone. Nor perhaps the future - if Dumbledore had indeed told Snape the secret of the Horcruxes, then all was lost.

He looked at his watch, it showed half past five. It was still early, but he wouldn't have been able to fall asleep again anyway. He didn't even want to. He just stretched out on the bed and concentrated on the only thought that could drive out of his mind the burning anger at Snape's betrayal: a long cascade of red hair, snow-white skin, a freckled face, an accomplice smile...

The bell of the nearby church was already ringing for six o'clock, when Harry had enough of the very concentration-demanding act of staring at the ceiling, put on his ripped jeans, stretched out gray T-shirt and threw himself down on the chair in front of his desk with a big yawn. Resting his head, thoughts swirling in his mind, he now considered the deserted street of Privet Drive beyond the window worth gazing at.

It was just another cool, foggy day in July - 'thanks to the sleazy Dementors, they'd all drown!' when a seventeen-year-old sorcerer's apprentice d-, oesn't have much to do. Due to Dumbledore's warding spell, this was the last summer he had to spend with his only relatives,

the Dursleys, although he had always felt that he was much more related to his best friend Ronald Weasley and his family. Harry sighed as he thought of his red haired friend and was sure that Ron was feeling a lot better than he was considering that he and his siblings were preparing for the wedding of the oldest Weasley boy, Bill, to a French girl, Fleur Delacour, which by the way Harry is also official.

Ron's parents, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and his two older brothers, Bill and Charlie, worked for the Order of the Phoenix. Percy Weasley, who had a serious falling out with his father after Voldemort's return, was still working at the Ministry of Magic, still hadn't spoken to his parents and hadn't heard from him in a long time. Ever since Percy's Christmas visit, Mrs Weasley had been waiting for the prodigal boy to show up again, and maybe then, maybe he would be able to bring father and son together for a talk, and maybe the family would be united again... There were too many

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maybe. Mrs. Weasley knew very well, as did Harry, that in such dire times, when so much is at stake and you have to be constantly alert, it is the most difficult to show understanding and forgive. And the most

difficult thing: letting go of someone whom you feel with every ounce of need, especially now, more than air. Harry knew he had done the right thing when he told Ginny that they couldn't be together until the war was over because she would be in mortal danger by his side. And Voldemort wouldn't miss such an opportunity to find the boy, because Harry knew him, he knew very well the thinking of his mortal enemy - he sneers at love, because he doesn't even understand it. No other person's life is worth anything to him, only his own, but it is so much that he puts it before everything that is sacred in this world. "You monster… you still regret ever hearing that prediction!"

He was awakened from his dark thoughts by a knocking sound - Hedvig had arrived from the hunt. Harry turned to the window to let in the snow-white post owl, who was dangling a dead mouse in its beak at his feet, even though there were two letters, one from Hermione and Ron, the other from Ginny. Harry patted his bird's head, which lovingly pecked at the caring hand and settled on the boy's bedside table.

Harry!

How and how? I hope your last vacation spent at uncle's bath is peaceful, at least more peaceful than mine. Mother keeps us working like the house elves, Fred and George have already rebelled and announced that they have important work to do in the shop. The new Bottomless Bag became their most popular product in no time - it's a really good invention, they brought one for wedding preparations, and the work goes twice as fast as before.

By the way, the wedding will be on Sunday, August 17. If you listen to me, you won't look at the wedding invitation that we had to include at Mom's behest - it's so cheesy that it makes you nauseous for hours on end. Just like Fleur's mom. His honey-glazed voice gives me a headache!

Alright, I'll give the letter to Hermione, because she's jumping past me here and won't leave me alone.

Dear Harry! I hope you spend your forced vacation not only relaxing, but also studying diligently, because you know that we will need everything that has been taught to us so far.

I know you can't wait to do something, the feeling of helplessness would drive us crazy, but please be strong as always! Write when you will arrive so that we can expect a guest to arrive and alert the Ministry to increase the security level. And don't listen to Ron, just look at the invitation, as it's fitting that Fleur

and Bill wrote it all in their own hands. Those pink bunnies are not kitschy at all, they are very cute!

Take care Harry! With much love:

Hermione and Ron

Harry put the letter down laughing and wondered if there were two people who were less alike than Ron and Hermione and yet got along so well. 'That's not an expression…' Harry thought and grinned. He only glanced at the attached wedding invitation as he slipped the letter back into the envelope and quickly decided to take Ron's advice instead.

It was as if a warm breeze swept through Harry's heart as he opened the next envelope and began to read the lines from the youngest Weasley:

Dear Harry!

You disappeared so quickly after the funeral, we didn't even have a chance to talk on the train ride, even though I wanted to say so much, but I didn't know how. I was seriously telling you the truth then, about that particular thing, but it was more painful than I thought. It's like when you've longed for something all your life, and when the moment finally comes that your wait is coming to an end, you realize that you've been harboring vain hopes.

I'm sitting here trying to put it into words, but I can't, I'm just rambling. I still miss it. It's not like Michael or Dean. They didn't tell me anything, the day after we broke up I already forgot about them, but I can't get over it. I keep thinking how different things could have been if Dumbledore hadn't died. We wouldn't have broken up and I wouldn't be lonely now. It's the worst feeling, loneliness. Here are my brothers, mother, father,

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Fleur, yet they are all so strange, as if we live in two separate worlds. I live alone in my world. I feel that He is lonely too, but when I think of this, I feel sadness and hope at the same time. Sorrow that he is lonely, and this involuntarily reminds me of Dumbledore, who was also lonely - you could see it every day... I am afraid that in his loneliness he will also meet the same fate as our old headmaster. And I hope he's still lonely, that I left a mark on him, more than Dean or Michael did on me. I hope that

he hasn't erased me from his heart yet and someone else hasn't taken his place, because this thought is killing me.

It doesn't work that way for me, and I don't think so for him either. Please say something like one of my best friends! What do you think? Is there any hope for me not to lose it?

I look forward to your reply as soon as possible.

Ginny

Smart little girl Harry thought sadly. Ginny worded it carefully so that only Harry could understand who the boy really was.

Ginny is lonely… well, that's how important she was. He was and still is important to Harry, more than anyone, but that's exactly why he can't let them be together. Desperately, she wondered what to write in response. Not writing anything would only make Ginny sink deeper into loneliness, causing her more pain. Writing to forget that "certain boy" is like drowning yourself in a well - you couldn't do that. But he can't throw away all caution, ignoring the danger, because that would foreshadow a quick and tragic end to their relationship.

What to do? He couldn't lose her permanently - although his mind told him he'd better. The mind that fooled even a man like Albus Dumbledore… Ginny was right… how different things would have been if the old man hadn't died, and for nothing at all… for a fake Horcrux…

Harry jumped out of his chair. There is a way for him to let Ginny know he still loves her and to ask her to wait for him. He pulled his duffel bag from under the bed, flipped open the top, and began to search. In a few moments, he found what he was looking for: the gold medallion that the mysterious RAB monogrammed person had left for Voldemort when he stole the real Horcrux, Slytherin's medallion.

Harry sat down at the table and pointed his wand at the locket. He mumbled the first transformation charm he could think of, then looked at the result. He thought it would be good, Ginny would know she wasn't alone…

· Whisper! Harry snapped, and in the next moment, his old house elf appeared in the middle of the room, whom Sirius had left to him in his will along with all his possessions and his house.

· Command, my master - the elf bowed before Harry, then added muttering: - The half-blood worm commands Sipor when he is sleeping his most beautiful dream, and Sipor must appear, he must, because Sipor is his house elf, alas, what would my poor mistress say...

"I'm sorry for waking you up, Sipor," Harry pretended not to hear the insult, but looked at his hated house-elf with undisguised disgust. "I have a task for you." Take this locket to Ginevra Weasley, Widra St. Capdel, House Weasley," she handed the gold piece to the elf, who eyed the locket between her gnarled fingers with watery eyes. - Tell him that I

sent him, and if he wears it, he won't be lonely, because I will be there with him. I didn't give him anything to say goodbye, only loneliness and pain, but maybe this will ease him a little.

The elf scowled up at his master as he listened to the order.

· Oh, and you can't go to anyone else's place, talk to anyone else, or interact in any way. After completing your task, you will return to Hogwarts and remain there until further orders. Go!

In the next moment, the elf disappeared without a word, accompanied by a small popping sound.

It was half past seven when he got dressed and forced himself to face the Dursleys again. It was breakfast time, but in

the kitchen he found only Dudley staring at the TV, stuffing his melon-sized head with a large breakfast of bacon, sausage, boiled eggs and a loaf of bread.

· We couldn't sleep again because of your damn whining! Dudley growled when he saw his cousin in the kitchen door.

· Good morning to you too, Great God - Harry didn't even pick up on the previous comment, similar atrocities had happened thousands of times a day when he was in the Dursley house. The Dursleys scolded him for whatever reason more often than they took to the air. Harry suspected that this might be the reason why Dudley, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's heads were regularly sporting unhealthy hues.

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· Where are Petunia and Vernon? Harry asked the big boy, while thinking about how that flimsy kitchen chair could handle the massive weight of the blond Dursley boy. He could not have known that Uncle Vernon had already ordered chairs made of extremely durable acid- resistant steel years earlier when he had the new kitchen furniture made by a specialist in London.

"They're shopping," was the succinct answer, while Dudley didn't take his eyes off the TV, where a replay of the previous night's boxing match was being shown on the sports channel.

Dudley Dursley started going to boxing training two years ago and used his new skills to terrorize the neighborhood kids even more. The residents of Privet Drive and the neighboring streets considered it downright dangerous to the public, and at first the children only dared to travel in groups. The problem was that Dudley was also hitting the streets with his gang, and his friends weren't far behind him either in cruelty or size.

Dudley's reign of terror then subsided two years ago, in August, because the news spread that another notorious hooligan of the neighborhood, the dirty, unwashed, dangerous-looking Harry Potter, had taken care of the Dursley child's trouble in such a way that he lived in terror for days. That's why the neighborhood kids banded together when they saw that he wasn't someone invincible. One evening, last summer, they surprised Dudley and his gang while they were destroying the playground benches and chased them away with stones and sticks. Thus, the old order was restored and Harry became the "most dangerous" figure in the neighborhood again.

Harry sat down at the breakfast table, piled a small amount of bacon and a sausage on his plate, then reached for the poached eggs. Meanwhile, Dudley snorted and glared at Harry.

· What do you imagine, what are

you doing? - I'm about to have breakfast. What do you think I'm doing? Harry replied coolly, then took an egg from the bowl.

· The bacon is mine, mother made it so that I could keep my condition.

· Sorry Dudluska, but I see that your plate doesn't fit a single crumb anymore, so I'll take out what's left - grinned Harry.

Meanwhile, he poured himself some tea and bought some toast.

"Ehhem-ehhem," Dudley cleared his throat warningly and scowled at Harry, perhaps because he didn't agree with the amount of tea Harry dared to pour himself.

Harry smiled amiably, leaned closer to his cousin and whispered in his ear, "abracadabra."

Dudley seemed to get the hint as his purple face turned pale in seconds and he turned back to his plate in submission.

Hardly a minute ago, Harry was chewing his bacon boredly, when a loud squeal of brakes was heard from outside, from the street front.

A car was approaching and then, BOOM! There was a loud crash as the trash cans in front of the house rolled down the street.

Harry immediately jumped up, wand in hand, and ran for the door – Dudley was just beginning to realize that there was something else going on besides eating and watching TV.

Harry tore open the front door and saw Uncle Vernon trying to steer his new Volvo into the driveway with a slightly nervous look on his face. Relieved, Harry lowered his wand and put it back in his pocket.

· These are getting dumber every day... - he shook his head, and then hurried to Aunt Petunia, who was scrambling, to take the packages from her.

· Don't touch me... - the aunt grumbled, but Harry took one of the bags from her hand, which was filled with vegetables and fruits, but immediately dropped it: - DON'T TOUCH ME! - Aunt Petunia screamed in her

adopted son's face, then bolted into the apartment, after her husband.

Harry stood petrified with astonishment, he could not understand why Aunt Petunia, who was so careful about appearances and avoiding any kind of appearance, had come out in the open street. Where, by the way, he managed to attract the attention of some neighbors, who probably peeked out from behind the slightly open windows in the hope of a juicy family scandal or quarrel.

Harry picked up the fallen tomatoes and peppers and followed his aunt into the house.

Aunt Petunia was sitting on the comfortable couch in the living room, while Uncle Vernon was trying to force a glass of brandy into his wife's hand. The Dursleys were visibly upset, and when Harry entered the room they looked at him with even deeper disgust than usual, as if he was the cause of all the world's problems.

· What happened again? asked the boy.

Aunt Petunia made a squeaky sound but didn't answer, just sipped her brandy. Uncle Vernon seemed a bit calmer, so Harry tried with him - and he had a strange feeling inside that his aunt's troubled mood was connected to something supernatural.

· What happened, Uncle Vernon?

The uncle pulled his nose into an angry grimace, but answered:

· We were coming out of the department store, when... uhmm... we saw a scrawny kid who was yelling with his mother, crying, that some monsters are coming in the sky, and he's very afraid, and... And... uhmm... So the next moment everyone really started to get scared, even though we didn't see anything.

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Harry already understood everything, he didn't need any further explanation, but Uncle Vernon couldn't help but add that he would prefer to suffocate all the little abnormal creeps before they start terrorizing normal, decent people.

"Dementors," Harry stated with a nod as if to say what a nice, sunny day it was - which it wasn't. The sky was overcast, the windows were damp from the fog outside, and Harry was well aware that this was the work of those dark creatures who had once guarded his prison in Azkaban, but had joined Voldemort a year ago.

"Are those the black things Petunia told you about?" The ones that attacked Dudley? Harry nodded profusely.

· Yes, and now they have multiplied everywhere because they have joined Voldemort. Many people have already been attacked... Wizards and witches, Harry added hastily when he saw how terrified the Dursleys looked. "You got sick because they passed you by and they're breathing." They absorb joy and leave only fear and sorrow - but you already know that.

Harry witnessed a somewhat unusual family scene: Dudley sat down next to his mother on the couch and hugged her shoulder supportively. Harry knew that his cousin was already familiar with the feeling that the proximity of Dementors caused, since two years before they had both been attacked by these creatures when they were walking home in the evening. He felt that this

might be suitable for a little introspection, since the curiosity of how his aunt knew about dementors had long been nagging at his side. Maybe she's a witch like her mother, just ashamed and hiding it? Or is there something else in the background? He went into the kitchen and took out a large bar of milk chocolate from the

refrigerator. He unwrapped it and handed one to Petunia broken piece.

· Drink this instead, it helps better than brandy.

Aunt Petunia accepted the chocolate somewhat reluctantly, bit into it, and apparently some color returned to her face immediately. And then he did something he had never done before: -

Thank you, Harry.

"You're welcome," said the boy, with quite a bit of surprise in his voice.

Harry thought it would be better if he approached the subject from Dudley's side, and then maybe Aunt Petunia would be more forthcoming.

· You know how that feels, right? Harry turned to his cousin and sat down on the ottoman in front of the couch. Dudley was visibly embarrassed, but he pulled himself together and muttered a few words,

"Yeah…not very good."

· When they first came near me, I fainted from fear, but before that I heard my mother begging for her life... - said Harry. - Ever since then, I keep thinking about it when one passes near me.

Dudley and Vernon stared with their mouths hanging open, the words apparently boiling in their throats. Aunt Petunia stared at the chocolate in her hand.

"You have no idea how close you were to something worse than death," Harry continued. "They almost sucked your soul out..."

Dudley swallowed and hugged his mother even tighter.

"It was so… so cold…" Dudley drew out the words one by one as he recalled the memory. "And-and…I saw terrible things…father lost his job…and…and we became poor…people mocked and mocked me…everyone hurt me and looked down on me.

Harry listened to the confession in silence, he didn't interrupt, he stopped to tell his cousin that he did just that to him. He waited patiently for Petunia to speak. - And... I saw myself screaming and thrashing in my dream,

just... exactly like you... I felt that I had no one... that my mother didn't need me...

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Well, who would have thought. Dudley Dursley's greatest fear is becoming like his abnormal cousin." Strike

the iron while it's hot - the saying goes: - Moms wouldn't throw you out. They didn't even throw me out... or almost once, but they still want you.

· That's right, Dudley! - Uncle Vernon slapped the table - You're a good kid! Our son, our normal son!

Whom no one can mock or look down on! You are a real Dursley, not like your cousin. You are not useless as this…

· It's not necessary.

The sentence stuck in Uncle Vernon's mind. Aunt Petunia didn't let her husband throw any more insults at her nephew.

"My dear from Pe-petuna..." Uncle Vernon stammered, but the aunt put down the glass of brandy and the chocolate, then turned to her husband with a very serious face.

· Vernon, don't you understand? Did nothing that Dumb n' door said touch you?

Uncle Vernon looked at his wife with his mouth open, and Dudley's face also reflected utter shock. Harry watched the scene with keen interest.

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· We treated him badly… no matter how much I hated Lily, I shouldn't have treated your son like that… and I shouldn't have let you treat him like that.

· I only treated him as he deserved! - retorted the uncle.

· No...

· After all, he's been bringing us trouble with his mania, his mental abilities, since he was very young! Have you forgotten what he did with Marge?

· Your sister spoke very rudely to him. He's done even worse things to his head than you!

· Are you saying that Marge deserved what she got!? - said the uncle. His wife backed away, somewhat frightened, but did not shout back. She wanted to avoid a fight with her husband.

· I never said that...

Vernon went into the kitchen fuming and took another glass from the bar cabinet.

"It's not worth fighting over," he said back from the kitchen. – This child has never put anything on the table, he has no goals, no future, no one, just friends like him... What will happen to him when he grows up? That Dambidor said that he will come of age this year, at the age of seventeen! And what will he do? Nothing! – while he was talking, he came back into the living room and poured himself brandy into the big glass. Harry, Dudley and Petunia listened in silence to the barrage of words. - Breathtaking, just like his father and your brother, dear! Such people never did anything good, they only brought trouble to everyone. I know... that's why they were burned in the Middle Ages!

Back then, they knew how to deal with such scum.

He never did anything to deserve praise. He doesn't work, he doesn't earn money, he was almost kicked out of school twice, he was even summoned to a trial... I'm sure he can't even do what they teach him properly... This kid is good for nothing, period.

Uncle Vernon finished his monologue and finished half a glass of brandy, then slammed the glass down on the table so hard that the rest of it splashed onto his shirt. Cursing, she went to the bathroom to change her soaked clothes.

Aunt Petunia, like the two boys, said nothing, but Harry could have sworn that when Uncle Vernon left the living room, he heard a whispered comment from his aunt's mouth: "You are very

wrong."

Petunia caught Harry's eye and grabbed the rest of the chocolate before sipping his drink. She didn't want to continue this conversation, her husband, her son, her behavior befitting a decent average citizen, her well-built life still took first place on her list of importance. Harry didn't know if the second place was reserved for him, or if he was just the number one, maybe the last one? He didn't dare ask, because he was afraid that it would ruin that moment, that pleasant disappointment in his aunt that he felt when Petunia declared that he, Harry, was worthless.

· Harry, go to your room. Aunt Petunia ordered quietly.

Harry thought it best not to argue and went upstairs without a word, but in a very cheerful mood.

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Chapter

3 Farewell and gift

The beeping of his watch woke him up the next day, and it took him a while to realize why he had set the alarm for five in the morning. He had written to Ron the day before that he would be arriving early in the morning to avoid being seen around both the Dursley house and the Weasley house. He'd decided a long time ago that he was going to jump into the Burrow, despite the fact that he

wouldn't have to take his exams until after - but Harry didn't care about that anymore. After all, what can the Ministry do? Getting kicked out of Hogwarts? He wasn't going back there for his senior year, he knew that very well. The thought that Dumbledore was dead had already formed in him that evening. "No, he didn't just die… he was killed! He was killed by that…"

After the funeral, he told Ron and Hermione of his plan that he would follow Dumbledore's orders and now stand on his own two feet to find all the Horcruxes. Of course, Harry never thought for a second that his two best friends would let him go on his journey alone – no, not even Dumbledore wanted that…

He cannot follow Dumbledore's instructions in this one. You cannot go to that person to ask for help. It would be a rather impossible situation: "Good morning, Professor Snape! I saw him kill Dumbledore, but in the headmaster's last letter he asked me to join him in the fight against Voldemort, so leave the Death Eaters behind and follow me please…"

Harry will go after his own head in this one, and he will only take with him the two people he trusts completely and unconditionally.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily, he changed into a pair of less ripped jeans and a black T-shirt.

Quietly, so as not to wake the eternally grumpy Uncle Vernon, he washed up, then put on his shoes and tiptoed down to the ground floor with his suitcase, which he had already packed the night before.

This was how he wanted to leave the Dursley house anyway, avoiding the obligatory goodbye, which neither he nor his relatives were in the mood for, which was not surprising, considering the less than idyllic relationship between them. Even so, Harry felt that he couldn't leave his aunt without a word, so after putting on his worn sweatpants, he went into the kitchen to write a few lines of messages to Aunt Petunia.

· I expected you to leave like this.

Harry was so scared that he dropped his pencil and nearly fell flat on the cold kitchen floor. Aunt Petunia was standing in the living room in her nightgown and robe, holding a cup of coffee. According to them, he didn't want to let his adopted son go without a word.

· How did you know I wanted to leave now? Harry asked after he sat up in surprise and fright. Uncle Vernon grunted sleepily upstairs.

· I knew that you would only stay with us until your birthday, and I also knew that you wanted to leave without making an appearance... I didn't know what day you would leave us, so I was waiting for you yesterday and the day before yesterday.

Despite her best efforts, Aunt Petunia's quiet voice held a hint of reproach and, if Harry's ears weren't mistaken, sadness. Harry felt a little embarrassed, unsure of what to say, and ashamed that while his aunt got up early every morning to meet him before she left, he wanted to do it with an orphaned letter.

· I'm sorry... - Harry blurted out - ...I thought it would be better for you. Aunt Petunia smiled and sat down in one of the armchairs.

"Maybe for Vernon and Dudley, but not for me," the aunt whispered as softly as if they were in church. "Despite appearances, I never hated you." A lot of what I said and did was just a show. It's part of a lie I wanted to trick myself with.

· You… you too… are you like mother? Harry asked cautiously. She didn't want to say she was a witch because she was afraid it would upset her aunt.

· No. Among the Evanses, Lily was the only one like that... - replied the aunt and took a sip of her coffee. "You know, it's partly because of him that I'm here now." I would like to make up for something I missed... I think you would like to know what my relationship with your mother was like and what happened to us...

Harry's mouth also fell open for a moment, but then he quickly answered.

· Y-yes… I would really like to.

Aunt Petunia sighed, mustering all her courage to do what she had already decided.

He took a sip of his coffee and said: - Our

parents already knew about the other world, they knew about them... In fact, our mother knew about it and told our father, who initially did not want to believe her. When we were little, my mother always talked about people who perform miracles, and our father talked about how ridiculous this is. He tried to bring us up to reality and argued a lot with mother about his "mania", as he called it.

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At first I was also impressed by the stories he told us - he told them as if they had really happened. Lily and I were proud many times in kindergarten and school that our mother knew the most exciting stories. I also heard about trolls, goblins, velas and dementors from him - my favorite were the tales in which mighty heroes fought against the terrible soulless dementors. They were scary, but exciting. Slowly, father also calmed down when he saw that storytelling does not come at the expense of learning.

Then, when I turned ten and Lily was nine, something happened that changed the relationship between us. On one occasion, when we were coming home from school, we were attacked by the neighbors Aunt Dursley's dogs, bulldogs, which her daughter Marge and her son Vernon kept for the sake of them. One of the bulldogs almost bit me, but Lily did something to them, yelled at them and the dogs all fell asleep... I couldn't understand how this could be... It happened countless times in my mother's stories, but never in life!

We found out that everything was true from what mom told us, who was overjoyed that Lily could do such a thing - dad, of course, didn't believe us. Because of this, they quarreled again and again and their marriage deteriorated. Dad even moved away from home and…" Aunt Petunia's voice trailed off, "and I… went with him. I left Lily, who was my best friend and even saved my life… I left her because I was jealous. I envied that he was able to make our mother's wonderful fairy tales come true, and I could only listen to them... So I chose father and reality instead of mother, Lily and fairy tales. I was torn from my childhood in a single moment and it was painful... Very painful...

We lived apart for a year and a half, when the other world intervened again... Lily received her letter from that school. And when he came back for the Christmas break and our family was together, dad also got proof that fairy tales are true after all, that people who perform miracles exist, and his little daughter is one of them. She was so happy... - Aunt Petunia sniffed and blew her nose into her rose-patterned handkerchief. Uncle Vernon growled again upstairs.

Harry listened silently to Aunt Petunia, guessing where the story would lead - and feeling sorry for his aunt. For the first time in his life, he completely sympathized with her.

· Father and mother reconciled, our family became complete again... But it was far from the same. In Dad's eyes, Lily became the favorite little miracle, and I was just an ordinary girl. His first-born daughter… was no longer good enough for him. Dad never hated me, no, no! He loved me, cared for me, paved my way, as befits a father. He just loved Lily more... And mother too, whose dreams Lily could make come true. I was left alone… Lily made new friends at school and so did I… Marge and then Vernon…

When I turned eighteen, I moved away from home, went to college, and then Vernon and I got married. I didn't see Lily or their mother for a long time after that. Lily married your father and they joined that war… but you must have been told that already. My father was sick a lot, he had cancer, he died shortly after I moved. I felt terrible, I was so distant from him that he didn't even tell me about his illness. Neither does mom. As if I didn't exist for them. They never showed that they hated me or were angry with me because I'm not as talented as Lily... I feel like they loved me, I just wasn't interesting enough for them... and they didn't realize how much they hurt me by ignoring me... And I hated them...

I hated my mother, my father, my sister and the fairy tales that I loved so much when I was little. I was the one who made our life this way, here on Privet Drive. I banished all eccentricity, all fairy tales, all strangeness from life. I didn't realize how much harm I was doing...

Especially to you...

Harry leaned against the kitchen counter and listened to his aunt, thoughts racing through his head and emotions racing through his heart. He felt no anger towards Petunia now, no contempt, only pity, sympathy and a little pity.

Aunt Petunia's eyes were veiled with tears, she stared silently ahead, clutching the empty coffee cup in her hand.

Harry pushed himself off the counter and went to the armchair where his aunt was cooing like a dove with broken wings. He crouched down in front of the aunt, then took her hand and squeezed it encouragingly.

"Thank you for telling me…" was all he could do, then he straightened up and gave Aunt Petunia a kiss on the cheek. "I have to go." Take care of yourself.

"You too, Harry..." the aunt whispered.

Harry pulled himself together and stepped out into the morning chill, pulling his suitcase behind him. Before closing the door, she waved goodbye to her aunt and the house where she spent her childhood.

The cold air stung his face and he could barely see through the morning fog. He left behind Privet Drive, then Magnolia, and a few more streets. Little eyes watched his way from under bins and cars, old Mrs. Figg's cats, who had kept a watchful eye over Harry from the moment he had been placed on the doorstep of the Dursley house. Nothing moved, not an orphaned sound was heard, as if time had stopped around Harry as he took his first steps on the path that the prophecy and Albus Dumbledore had marked out for him. At this moment he was very grateful to his friends,

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for standing by him during the last six years - thanks to them, he now has a destination, he knows what the first stop of his journey is: the Den, where he spent the happiest moments of his life, where, thanks to Mrs. Weasley, he ate the most delicious breakfasts, lunches and dinners, and where Ginny is also waiting for him, perhaps with the same excitement as him.

Without the Weasleys and Hermione, he would be very confused right now, he would have to spend long hours, maybe days, wondering where to start his search, where to take his journey.

Hedvig soared high above him, Harry couldn't see her in the milky white mist, but the bird followed her. Even before departure, the night before, he let go of his cage, but managed to stuff it into his crate with a shrinking charm.

He used the same method to reduce the size of his faithful Firebolt, which was still considered a first-class broom three years after its release, although even faster, more reliable models had already appeared - Harry had no intention of replacing his beloved, late godfather's first gift.

He was already two kilometers away from 4 Privet Drive when he found the right place to hop in a deserted alley. He held his suitcase close to him, then whistled to his owl, which immediately descended from the height and settled on the boy's shoulder. Harry then focused hard on his destination and his imagination went wild.

He already felt the familiar compression when a person is pulled through a narrow tube... and a moment later he found himself in thick bushes.

He pushed the branches apart and immediately caught sight of the girbegur's tower of Den, which was perhaps only held together by magic. Harry's heart felt warm as he slowly approached the Weasley family home. It's finally here!

Arriving at the door, he knocked, then remembered and checked his watch: quarter to seven... It's good, the Weasleys must be waiting.

· Who is it? came Mr. Weasley's nervous voice from inside. - It's me, Harry. Good morning Mr. Weasley!

· Slowly with the body! First… first tell me what… let's say the name of Hagrid's dragon! Harry sighed and laughed involuntarily. Mr Weasley and his security rules…

· His name was Norbert.

· Correct! the voice shouted.

"Will you finally let me in Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked a little impatiently, because he was already wearing the zipped-up sweatshirt from the cold.

· No-no! First you have to ask what my…

· Oh, father, stop this nonsense! - snapped a girl's impatient voice from inside, and Harry immediately forgot about being cold.

The door opened and Ginny appeared, followed by Mr Weasley with a smiling face, and the family's kitchen and dining room, with Mrs Weasley bustling around at the kitchen counter, Ron snoring at the table and Hermione drinking coffee.

Ginny hugged Harry and held him as if she never wanted to let him go. "I missed you," said the red-haired girl after two welcome kisses.

"Me too," Harry muttered with a grin and followed her into the kitchen, where it was pleasantly warm, thanks to the fire in the fireplace. He greeted everyone in line, shook hands with Mr Weasley, hugged Mrs Weasley, let Hermione jump on his neck and her shaggy brown hair cover his entire face, then patted the napping Ron on the back, who grunted but cheerfully returned the friendly greeting.

· What news from the muggle world? Ron asked after nearly swallowing half the room with a yawn.

· The usual. I'm so bored...but my aunt just said some interesting things about my mom. I'll tell you later. Oh, and there was a dementor attack. Several muggles got sick…

"Yes, we heard about it, it was in yesterday's Evening Prophet," Hermione nodded.

· My aunt and uncle were there too. Aunt Petunia almost fainted from them.

· Breakfast! Ron, pull yourself together! Mrs Weasley said to her son who was elbowing on the table and started carrying the plates and cutlery. Hermione jumped up and helped make the scrambled eggs.

Harry also started to help, but Mrs Weasley ordered him back to his place, saying that his journey must have been tiring. Harry tried in vain to prove that there was no fatigue involved in hopping, but the woman finally sat him down by saying that it was time for Hermione to learn how to cook.

Laughing at her mother's earlier comment, Ginny sat down between Harry and Ron and poured herself a glass of dandelion juice.

· When Hermione arrived a few weeks ago, she wanted to help mother at all costs, - the girl explained - but she ended up almost setting the whole kitchen on fire. Since then, mother has felt it her sacred duty to teach him to bake and cook...

· It's not my fault that the pan caught fire! Hermione retorted angrily. "I had to listen to Fred and George's stupid jokes, that's why that… that little accident happened."

"It's okay, dear," reassured Mrs. Weasley, "I told you, it's not your fault you haven't learned to cook yet..."

· But I can cook!

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The breakfast was filled with more pleasant conversation, including about the upcoming wedding, which Mrs. Weasley was looking forward to much more than last year, and Harry also learned that members of the Delacour family, including Fleur and her grandmother, will be arriving next week, Saturday.

· Where will the wedding be held? Harry asked as he took a bite of the tasty omelette. He suspected that the Den's garden wasn't big enough for such a large event, since the Weasley and Prewett families alone had put out thirty or so, and the Delacours knew how many more.

· Oh, we'll hold it at our dear Aunt Muriel Prewett's house, on the old Prewett estate. Mrs. Weasley explained cheerfully. - You know, Harry, my aunt is very old now and she likes to have life around her. We used to visit it many times while the children were at school, sometimes we spent several months in that huge house... - said Mrs Weasley looking back. - Beautiful house, you'll see! Is it true, Arthur?

· Yes, dear, beautiful house. "Not bad," Ron shrugged.

"Lame," Ginny mumbled so her mother wouldn't hear what she was saying.

Harry stifled a laugh before putting down his fork and thanking Mrs Weasley for breakfast.

· I'd go upstairs to unpack my suitcase so that it wouldn't be a problem later.

· It's okay, my dear, go ahead. You'll be in Ron's room…

· Thank you… Ron, Hermione, would you help me unpack? Harry turned to his friends. Hermione immediately jumped, but Ron stifled a yawn.

· You know how to walk, why do you need help...

Hermione twisted Ron's ears and dragged him upstairs after her.

Arriving in the room, Harry thought at first that he had accidentally opened the door to the twins, because the youngest Weasley boy's room had changed a lot since he had last been there. Gone from the walls were the orange Quidditch posters and pictures of the Chudley Squash players, which used to cover every square centimeter of the room. He was greeted by whitewashed walls and some framed photos, from which he could see that one of them showed members of the Weasley family, the others Harry, Hermione and Ron. They were old memories, one or two of them were quite small, as Harry could tell, they might have been second years. Among them was the photo taken by Colin Creevy of Harry and Lockhart, as well as the Morning Prophet's photo of the Trimagus Tusa champions.

Harry was a little taken aback, and as his friend led him into the room, he had to realize that Ron, the old master of fun, had grown up too.

Harry dropped the suitcase in front of the bed, unbuckled it and pulled out the crumpled envelope hidden in one of the pockets, Dumbledore's letter. He felt that this took priority now, the packing would come later.

· Harry, what is it? Hermione asked curiously, pointing to the letter.

· A letter from Dumbledore. A farewell letter… I got it a week and a half ago, delivered by Fawkes…

· The phoenix? Ron wondered.

"Aha… Hermione, I think it's better if you read it out loud instead of me telling you… It's a bit difficult." Better to hear it literally.

"It's fine..." Hermione said quietly, then took the letter, sat down on the edge of Ron's bed and began to read.

The letter had just the effect Harry expected on his friends. The initial curiosity, mixed with sadness, slowly turned into tears, Hermione stopped more and more while reading to blow her nose, and Ron leaned against the wall of his room, staring at the ceiling and sometimes shaking his head.

The mournful mood was then replaced by astonishment: - "There is

only one person who meets these requirements: Severus Snape" - oh my god, no... - moaned Hermione.

· I can't believe this! said Ron. - After all, he knew very well that you hate each other... "Just keep reading," interrupted Harry.

Hermione sniffled as she continued reading.

- "… Go to Severus Snape with this letter after reading it! I already informed him about everything, he knows what I know." - don't! This

can't be true!

- How could he do that!? How could he be so blind?

His friends were as upset by the letter as he was. Hermione stared at the letter, frowning in tears, then, after she began to digest what she had read, she asked in a trembling voice: "Harry, do you know what this means?"

"Yes… If Dumbledore told him we knew about Horcruxes, then Voldemort already knows we know… and that's the end of it."

"W-so…" Ron's voice rang in disbelief, as if he didn't want to accept the terrible truth – does this mean that… we've already lost the war?

- I think so.

A chilling silence settled over the room, an oppressive, almost suffocating bewilderment. Ron's face looked like he wanted to scream in anger, just like Harry in his dreams. Hermione clutched the letter, again and again

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he read the lines as if there was some hidden instruction hidden between them, some help, some way out… but there was nothing of the sort. The truth was there in black and white. Dumbledore let the traitor of the Order of the Phoenix into his most hidden secrets... Just like Harry's parents and Sirius. They also listened to common sense and decided to side with Peter Pettigrew, the traitor...

However, there was an important difference between the betrayal of the man also known as Wormtail and Snape, which Harry saw very clearly: while Pettigrew's betrayal also caused the fall of the lord at the same time, Snape's rather helped his victory...

Hermione crumpled up the letter, which snapped Harry out of his daze. He knew that only the three of them in the entire Order of the Phoenix were in possession of this secret, and only they knew how critical their situation was. The other aurors have no idea about this... That's how they have to act, now that they have the new information. And Harry also knew that his friends looked to him for guidance. This should satisfy you. This is his

task: - Listen... I know, this is quite bad news... "Hah, you're putting it mildly..." Ron

we still have to find Voldemort's Horcruxes, even if he knows we're looking for them. If… if we destroy them, we'll have a chance to face him…

"Harry, it's hopeless. " Hermione interrupted. "If Voldemort knows we want to destroy the Horcruxes, he may have

already done more and hidden them elsewhere…or…"

- No, no! That's not at all safe Hermione! - Harry protested and took a deep breath to present his theory, which he had been thinking about for the past few days: - If Voldemort is prepared against us, he can't make an infinite number of Horcruxes! As I took it from Dumbledore's words, with each soul dismemberment you lose something… something of your own personality. First, he sacrificed the feeling of love, because he didn't consider it important 's

why it was painful for him when he touched her before or when he tried to possess her.

The lost feelings I had burned his body, as if they wanted to stretch him apart, like a wedge…

He's always lost some, but I think after a while he can't cut himself any more because he'd lose something he needs... His eyes... his eyes were bloodshot and red. You know how the saying goes, the eye is the mirror of the his

soul is damaged. He's seriously he continued to cut him up, he'd only hurt himself.

That's why he won't make many more Horcruxes, one or two at most. Hermione and Ron frowned in thought, this seemed to convince them.

"Yeah… I think you might be right…" Hermione muttered. "But we have to be very careful when we're looking for the Horcruxes, because Voldemort is counting on us and there might be Death Eaters waiting for us."

· According to them, do you still want to come? Harry asked and picked up Dumbledore's crumpled letter from the ground.

· Of course I want to come, I've already told you once! - the girl roared, and with that she managed to bring a smile to both Harry and Ron's faces. -

And you Ron? Harry asked the unnecessary question.

· I wouldn't stay at home even if you forced me with the Imperius Curse! "I'm going with you," Ron stated.

Harry and his red-haired friend grinned at each other, then when they started to pack, they paid tribute to Hermione's magic, who had Harry's sweaters, robes and socks in place with a single wave of her wand.

Harry's seventeenth birthday, and the second birthday dinner of his life, was a real dream for the boy. Mrs Weasley cooked a scrumptious dinner of sirloin and parsley potatoes, topped with a large drum cake, with seventeen lighted candles from Fred and George's magic joke shop, singing happy birthday loudly.

All the Weasleys were present at the dinner, except for Bill and Percy. Bill stayed in France, where he met his future mother-in-law, father-in-law and the Delacour family; and Percy, who knows where he was at the moment.

Of course, this did not discourage the Weasley family, nor the other guests, Lupin and Tonks, who arrived holding hands in the twilight of the evening and seemed very happy.

· Happy birthday! everyone shouted as Harry blew out the candles and cut the cake.

After eating the delicious dinner, Harry felt like a well-fed lion who had eaten an entire antelope all by himself. The gifts didn't take long either, Ron immediately pressed into his hand something horribly wrapped, which Harry, tearing off the paper, found to be a bottle of twelve-year-old Ogden's Tongue of Flame whiskey.

Ginny smiled and handed him a box of All Flavors, but when Harry accepted the gift, she winked at him without noticing. Harry didn't have a chance to think about the meaning of the gesture because the others immediately showered him with their well wishes.

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· Harry! Fred slapped the boy on the shoulder. "Now you're a 'big boy' too, as mother used to say." How about we crack open that bottle of whiskey?

· You won't get drunk here, young man! Mrs. Weasley warned her son.

Hermione's gift was a pair of beautiful black magical boots that muffled the sound of the wearer's footsteps - Harry found this very useful, and immediately decided that it would be on his feet when he set off.

From Charlie, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, he received a large package of sweets, from Lupin and Tonks a silver, magical compass that always shows the exact direction of any city, a gift from Fred and George, even though it was a Bottomless Bag, which could hold any size object the person fills it, the size and feather-light weight of the bag remains unchanged.

After the gift-giving, everyone looked for something pleasant to do - they read, listened to the Magic Eye Radio broadcast, or, like Ron and Charlie, got ready to play chess.

· Ginny, my dear, one-eyed sister! George grinned as he sat down next to her on the sofa. "How is it, tell me?" I hear from mom that you also exposed that boy named Dean Thomas to the screen. In fact, the birds are chirping that within a month someone else also "fell victim"...

· If you are so well informed, why are you asking? Ginny snapped angrily.

· Because I would rather hear from you the real reason for this frequent change, instead of listening to rumours. So I reserve the opportunity for you to explain…

· What? Ginny was already red and jumped up from the sofa. "What should I explain to you?" You have nothing to do with what I do and with whom, I already told Ron that last year! - I didn't say a word just now... - Ron

interjected defensively, setting up the chessboard on the dining table.

"You're right, I have nothing to do with it," said George with an unusually serious face. "I just feel sorry for those poor unfortunate boys who—"

PAFF! Ginny slapped her brother, then ran upstairs and slammed the door behind her.

Harry also felt more and more embarrassed, he didn't know how many of those present knew who the third boy was. George stared in surprise for a while longer, then downed a glass of pumpkin juice.

"You really have nothing to do with it, Fred..." Ron broke the silence.

· I'm George.

"It doesn't matter," said his younger brother. "I also had a fight with him last year, because I didn't even know the real reason why he left his two friends at the wooden picture...

· Three, in one month...

Ron didn't say anything to that, he just exchanged a glance with Harry, then Hermione, then smiled faintly and continued setting up the pieces.

Around ten, the company slowly quieted down, Mr Weasley was reading ministry reports - this had happened more and more since the outbreak of the war. There was so much work on the shoulders of the ministry officials that the overtime was no longer enough for the efficient operation of the case departments. Mrs Weasley and Hermione were doing the washing up – she had insisted on teaching the girl all the ins and outs of kitchen work and was now teaching her an effective dish-wiping charm to get tea towels, grease scrapers and scrubbers to work.

After dinner, Lupine and Tonks said their goodbyes and left, followed by Fred and George, who had a small apartment above their shop and were sleeping there. Ron and Charlie were playing a game of chess, during which the older Weasley boy gritted his teeth and tried to defend himself against his younger brother's effective attacks - with little success. Harry watched them for a while, and when Ron won the third game in a row, he yawned goodbye to everyone, climbed upstairs with the Evening Prophet in his hand and entered the room and opened the window. The light of the waning moon dimly illuminated the room, casting a narrow strip of light, stretching the shadows of the furniture. Harry sniffed the air and deeply inhaled the wonderful floral scent that filled his lungs, heart, and soul. Leaning on the windowsill with tired eyes, he began to read the newspaper by the light of his wand.

Almost every article was about the Dark Lord and the actions of the Ministry, a special investigation committee was formed to find out who was working for Voldemort and who wasn't. Mysterious disappearances, deaths, assassinations against Quiblic and Muggle-born wizards have increased, and panic is beginning to prevail in several cities.

However, there was one article that was not about the current war, but about something else entirely:

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Goblin riots

Across England, more and more strange phenomena are disturbing spirits. Not only are the rumors spreading due to the return of the Dark Lord, but there are also rumors of an old-new problem. Namely about goblin rebellions.

Everyone has heard of the bloody Kobold Wars of the 17th century, when many innocent wizards were sent to their deaths by Celtic kobolds who feared their mines and gold.

When Cornelius Caramel, the former Minister of Magic, submitted a bill at this time last year to bring the Gringotts Goblin and Wizard Bank under the control of the Ministry, anti-Ministry and anti-wizard sentiment began to grow among the goblin population. The editors of our paper asked some sorcerer-citizens who live near a larger goblin population if they are afraid of rebellions.

"I don't think the attitude of the Ministry is appropriate. Now that they want Gringotts and the Oldham mines for themselves, the old, radical goblin organizations have revived. We fear that more riots will break out. Goblins do not leave their mines. And I'm afraid that if necessary, blood will be spilled." - said a man living on the outskirts of Belfast.

When we wanted to find the responsible person in the Ministry regarding the kobold cases, we encountered a strange problem. Everyone sent us to someone else, but no one wanted to answer our questions. Finally, the head of the press department directed us to Ian Brooks, who is the head of the Magic Creature Oversight Committee. He told us that there were indeed minor violations and demonstrations that should be dealt with, but that we should not be afraid of new riots. However, this does not reassure the population, they are still afraid of goblins and are waiting for a solution to the situation from the Ministry.

"Great," thought Harry, "it's not enough Voldemort, now even these are ours!" He crumpled up the newspaper angrily, spun around and threw it into the corner.

Although at that time he mostly slept through the History of Magic lessons, he still remembered that it was not worth pulling fingers with the goblins - even Hagrid had warned him about this. In fact, this was the very first advice he gave to Harry when he entered the wizarding world for the first time in his life. If a goblin rebellion broke out, it would have very serious consequences, the Ministry would be caught between two fires.

· So, is Charlie sick of the losing streak? Harry asked his friend who then entered the dark room.

· Yes. So much so that it overturned the chessboard and disturbed Ron's sleep – the voice that answered was not Ron's, but a quiet girl's voice.

· Ginny! said Harry. "I thought it was Ron, I didn't see your face…"

Ginny stepped out of the shadows and went to Harry with a smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a long kiss.

· Happy birthday! he whispered into Harry's ear, who thought his heart was going to jump out, it was beating so violently.

· Thank you... - the boy sighed happily. "But… did you say Ron went to sleep?" So where is he now…? Ginny laughed softly to herself.

· Well, Ron went to Hermione's for an evening kiss before bed... - Ginny said coyly. "I closed it." them…

· Really? Harry grinned. "But Hermione opens it anyway."

· I locked it with magic. No one but me opens it... So no one bothers me... Ginny kissed the boy again, running her fingers through his tousled black hair.

Harry then felt something hard press against his neck - he pulled away from her and looked down. It was the pendant that Sipor had sent him the day before, the tiny golden jewel in which Harry had engraved the only symbol by which he could be recognized: the lightning-shaped scar. Which Ginny can always think of.

"I got your message..." she said when she saw Harry looking at the locket. "It's very beautiful, and thank you for easing my loneliness with it... Now let me give you something too!" Something with which I might be able to help... - Ginny leaned close to Harry's ear and whispered the words, which sent waves of tingling cold and scorching heat through the boy's body at the same time.

· My gift is not an object, not even a greeting or anything... because I know that I could not show my love for you with anything like that... My gift is only a promise - Ginny wrapped the hug even tighter, and now she and Harry could feel each other's heartbeats , they felt each breath and even each other's thoughts as if they were their own. - I promise you that I will wait for you. For however long, for however long... If it takes you thirty years to

defeat Voldemort, I'll wait thirty years for you. I know this is what you wanted, Harry, which is why you sent the locket to ask me to wait for you. You should know that I never wanted to let anything but you into my heart. Even though we have agreed, we will not see each other again, we don't have to be completely separated from each other... We shouldn't, because we would only be harming ourselves.

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Harry couldn't help but moan - he couldn't imagine a better gift. The value of this gift was inestimable, because it gave him the hope of a real, happy future. A goal worth fighting for, something to look forward to even after defeating Voldemort. A gift that ensures that even after the prophecy is fulfilled, he will have meaning, a purpose in his life, and that purpose will be Ginny.

They stood hugging each other like this for long minutes, until sleepiness overcame both of them. Harry looked questioningly at Ginny, who blinked back at him with sleepy eyes, but smiled as soon as she understood what the boy meant. "Yeah… Ron's locked up with Hermione. The other rooms are also taken… you are forced to sleep here!" They climbed into bed, under the covers, Harry was behind Ginny and he hugged her close. This pleasant squeeze, the touch of soft skin, the soft scent of flowers, and the knowledge that he had someone he could always count on helped Harry relax and within minutes he was asleep.

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Chapter 4

Aunt Muriel

The next day was full of pleasant rest and fun in the Den. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione took turns playing Quidditch, talking, and playing chess until the evening, when Mrs. Weasley told them that it was time to pack for the next day's trip - because they had set the date for Saturday to move to the Prewett house, which Mr. Weasley said was a much safer and it will be a more classy place for an event like Bill and Fleur's wedding.

The eldest Weasley boy with his fiancée and Mr and Mrs Delacour would return a week later with the rest of the clan to complete the wedding preparations. In the meantime, the Prewett house had to be cleaned, the lawn mowed, and the wedding props set up in the yard. Before leaving, Mrs Weasley handed out a small piece of parchment to everyone, with the address of the Prewett house written on it. Harry suspected that this might be the reason why Aunt Muriel's home was safer for hosting a wedding, because he would have dared to swear that the building had been hidden with the Fidelius charm, and that was why they got the paper from the secret master. So the whole company woke up early on Saturday and set off with the luggage towards

Ermine Hill, where Mr. Weasley had already placed the order for a zip lock with the Ministry days earlier. Ordering a lock key was an expensive pastime, it was one of the most expensive - and at the same time the most reliable - ways to travel among wizards and witches. Harry took a long time to convince the red-haired man to let the financial implications of the lock key fall on him, but Mr. Weasley would not hear of it.

The party of nine - Mr and Mrs Weasley, Fred, George, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry - were dressed in black traveling cloaks to avoid the cold and to avoid being conspicuous, and they really didn't attract attention, only a couple of birds, crickets

and toads. indicated that they had noticed the hooded caravan. On the other hand, the cold in the morning made their moods quite chilly, especially after they had sweated a lot during the climb up the hill, and the cold air projected the fear of a hearty cold.

· Well, come on, the zip key must be here somewhere, look for it! Mr. Weasley ordered.

They all started searching among the muggle things thrown away on the hilltop, Harry at first strongly suspected a discarded refrigerator, an empty Coke bottle, and an old typewriter, but finally Ron found the key: a broken tin can.

· How can you know for sure which is the socket wrench? Harry asked Mr Weasley.

· There are several ways - the man answered. – The most reliable, but somewhat lengthy method is the Specialis Revelio charm, which shows the magical properties of an object. You must have already heard about this magic potion or magic charm...

· Again…

· Another, quite interesting, slightly alternative method, if you touch it to a muggle, electric object... "Electric, Mr. Weasley," Hermione interrupted quietly.

Yes, thank you... So the magical vibrations turn off the electrical devices - it bothers them for some reason, you should ask the members of the Muggle Commentary Editorial Committee about this, they have a great understanding of the relationship between electronic and magical structures...

But the easiest way is to use your intuition. When you touch a magical object, you immediately feel that something is wrong with it - obviously, because it is not natural, but magical. Whatever magical properties it is endowed with, it means that some natural property has been changed, as in this case of this can - because it has been changed into a wrench, it binds to two points in space at the same time, forming a kind of bridge, and at a simple command, a human command, jumps over to that to another place... Do you understand?

Harry nodded and along with his companions grabbed the wrench. Now that he was paying attention like this, he really felt something strange, as if the surface of the can was a little uncertain... As if he couldn't decide which place it belonged to, here or their destination...

Mr. Weasley slowly counted to three. At three Harry felt a strong tug at his navel and the next moment they were lying on top of each other in the wet grass.

Harry jumped to his feet then helped Hermione and Ginny up and looked around. The nearby hills lay half in shadow and half in light from the morning light, even though the lights of a small town could be seen from a distance of a few kilometers.

· Where are we? What city is there? Harry asked Mr. Weasley, who was just brushing off the dust from his fairer half and sticking a knot in his face.

· There is Land's End, a charming little town, the outermost settlement of the headland, right on the ocean shore. Do you smell the sea, Harry? I love the sea!

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Harry couldn't tell what exactly he was smelling, the scents in the air were a mixture of many things: the wet smell of a damp field, a little barn smell, some smoke, and a faint smell of birds. But he didn't smell salty sea, so these smells were much more decisive.

Whistling cheerfully, Mr Weasley set off up the hill through the cover of some girdle trees. Not one, but four full-grown owls perched on the branches of one of the trees, and they all watched them with their big yellow eyes. Arriving at the top of the hill, the company stopped and looked around: all around were small hills and woodlands, here and there a few buildings rose, and two parallel highways broke the natural harmony.

After a short rest, the Harrys started down the other side of the hill - sometimes it wasn't so easy, because the shoes slipped on the wet grass like they did on ice. Hermione quickly realized that it was much better to go downhill on the sticky, muddy ground, and she didn't fall as many times as Ron and Harry.

When they got down to the bottom of the hill, after a small valley came the next, slightly bigger rise. As they began to climb up, Harry noticed a line scratched into the ground between the tussocks. The boy recognized it immediately: a magical boundary that only certain people can cross. Almost three years ago, Dumbledore drew a line around the Goblet of Fire so that students under the age of seventeen could not throw their names into the goblet. Harry suspected that this line might provide magical protection for the house. Ahead of him, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron and Ginny crossed the line without a second thought, showing no signs of stopping them in any way.

Harry shrugged and crossed the line.

At that moment, something happened that hadn't happened in over a year, and it terrified him: a pain shot through his forehead, right at the scar, and the back of his neck began to tingle, and the hair on his arm stood up.

Harry flinched at the unexpected reaction, but gritted his teeth and didn't cry out. His fellow travelers seemed to notice nothing of the boy's strange behavior, and he thought it better not to warn them - all the more so because he himself guessed why the pain had renewed.

The pain, as it came, passed almost immediately, leaving behind nothing but the memory of the tingling sensation in the back of his head. Harry continued to follow his friends up the hill, his side starting to sting slightly from the new climb. Their path led past more gnarled trees and bushes, and on these too, five or six fat owls sat like watchful watchmen. Leaving them, they approached the top of the hill, which was also their destination.

At the top of the hill stood a large, old house, its massive stone walls rising majestically into the sky, three stories high. The solid oak entrance door was located exactly in the middle, and from here a tower stretched upwards, rising one floor above the house. The tower's windows were missing, instead worn arches supported the roof structure, and Harry could clearly see from afar that many, many owls were sleeping on the ledge with their heads tucked under their wings, and several were flying in and out. Some may have returned home from the hunt, while others have now set off to fill their starving bellies.

"You know, Aunt Muriel is a famous owl breeder, Harry," Mr. Weasley explained to the boy. - The Hogwarts post office and the wizarding post office in London also order their young birds from him, and even the Üklopsz owl parlor used to be owned by the Prewett family... of course, a lot has changed since then - he added with a bit of bitterness.

Carrying the company's luggage, he climbed up the steps built into the hillside. As he approached the house, Harry discovered more and more interesting details, and as the mansion of a famous golden-blooded family, he unwittingly compared it to the House of Black. The Prewett house's soaring tower and huge windows, which almost attracted the sun's rays, appeared to Harry to be a much friendlier place than the oppressive, dark rooms and robust walls of his bitter heritage. That building, true to its name, was a real "Black" house. While this manor - although it was much smaller than the old headquarters - directly attracted people.

Arriving at the door, Mrs Weasley rang the bell, which made an interesting sound that resembled the hooting of an owl. Soon footsteps were heard and the door opened.

· Molly dear! "But I'm glad to see you," greeted Mrs. Weasley, an old woman of about seventy years of age, who looked more like a bird herself: slightly graying, once reddish-brown hair, a crooked nose reminiscent of a bird's beak, glasses with small lenses resting on it, sparkling brown eyes and the loose, faded, and dusty gown gave the lady the appearance of a sympathetic old crow. - I'm happy too, dear Muriel! You haven't changed a thing... - the red-haired woman looked

at her beloved aunt.

· But you're getting younger and younger, Molly my dear. Oh, and the kids! But they grew up!

Aunt Muriel greeted the young Weasleys one by one, and when she reached Ron, she happily clapped her hands together and planted two cupping kisses on the boy's cheek.

· Oh, Roncimonci, you've grown so much...! As I see it, you are the tallest in the family, right? "Um…" Ron muttered and elbowed Fred in the ribs, who was shaking with suppressed laughter along with his twin.

Aunt Muriel also greeted Hermione directly, with a hug and two kisses, just like the Weasleys. It was Harry's turn last, who first quickly swept his hair across his forehead.

· You're the Potter kid, aren't you? I recognize you from your eyes. Even the...

· ...my mother's, yes, I know, Harry finished the sentence he had heard a thousand times, and he didn't escape the hug and two kisses either.

· Well, come inside, just come! It's cold out here... - the aunt invited the guests.

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The house was even more inviting from the inside than from the outside. The long hall, where the party had shed their coats and muddy shoes, led to a spacious living room, the solid oak furniture of which matched the beautiful blue wallpaper perfectly. The furnishings were made up of a few blue armchairs and sofas, harmonizing with the wallpaper, with bookcases and display cases along the walls.

On the far wall of the room, the diplomas, certificates and awards recognizing owl breeding hung framed. There were quite a few of them, the aunt was justifiably proud of them.

Mr. Weasley waved his wand as each suitcase flew upstairs through the stairwell.

· Come, take a seat, don't hang around like Balaam's donkey! said the aunt.

Aunt Muriel conjured teacups and poured hot tea for everyone. The guests took their seats and happily enjoyed the steaming but refreshing drink after the hill climb.

"We met some of your owls on the way, Muriel," Mr. Weasley announced after settling into a comfortable velvet armchair. - they watched us as if they wanted to eat us...

· Well, yes, my little darlings take their work seriously! said the aunt cheerfully. - They look after the house, they can see from miles away if someone is approaching.

· One would think that the other protective spells would be unnecessary, with such guard duty...

· But it's not like that! protested the aunt. - Security must be taken seriously, especially now that the Order has moved here...

· What? Is this the new headquarters? Harry interrupted, noticing that his friends were also surprised. Aunt Muriel made a slightly surprised face, then turned to Mrs Weasley with a mock reproach.

· You didn't even tell the children that my house is the new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?

· We thought you'd tell them, since you're so proud of him - smiled the red-haired woman.

· That's not controversial! shouted the aunt. "Of course I'm proud of him!" Aunt Muriel turned to the Harrys and proudly told: - You know, I offered

Dumbledore two years ago to set up the headquarters here, but he thought that the Black house seemed like a more obvious choice, because it already had all kinds of protection readings and muggle-preventing charms... Hah ! As if my house wasn't protected enough!

My owls are keeping watch over the whole countryside, I spread an anti-hopping charm in a two-kilometer circle around the house, Minerva McGonagall performed the Fidelius charm, and now even that enchanting Alastor Mordon drew a line around the house! It's a very sly little charmer, you know? Anyone with that hideous Dark Mark on their arm is thrown back by the line as if they stepped on a spring. And this does not only extend to Death Eaters, but also to those unfortunates who have been afflicted with the Imperius Curse, and even to You-Know-Who through the magical connection of the Dark Mark! The Black house didn't have such charm, I'm sure of it!

Harry smiled politely at Aunt Muriel, but his mind was working feverishly. So that was why his scar hurt. The line repels those who have a connection to Voldemort through the Dark Mark. He is also related to her through the scar, but according to them, it is not as direct a relationship as the Ticket. After all, then he would have been thrown back by the line as well... Harry's heart felt a little warm as he thought about it - Voldemort and him are not as closely related as he had previously feared.

During the morning, Aunt Muriel showed her guests around the house and enthusiastically explained her work as an owl breeder, especially to Harry and Hermione, who were here for the first time. First, he showed the neat bedrooms, from which the girls immediately chose the most spacious, lightest room, which was in the tower above the entrance. The rooms to the right and left of him became Harry's, Ron's, and the twins', both rooms were a bit smaller, but classy bedrooms, with blue wallpaper and oak furniture, just like the other rooms in the house. After the rooms, Aunt Muriel showed the Harrys her impressive study, which in itself suited a library, an office, and for some strange reason, a kind of mirror room - beautiful gold-framed mirrors hung on every free surface of the walls, where they were not covered by furniture. Also, on the wall opposite the desk was a huge, human-height mirror - Harry deduced from this that Aunt Muriel was a bit vain.

Of all the rooms in the house, the "room" of the owls was the most special and interesting. At first glance, it was a copy of the Hogwarts owl house: the owls sat in small niches on the rough stone walls of the room, waiting to receive their task. However, in the middle of the room, on a platform, a bright glass ball glistened in the light of the rising sun, on which the awake owls fixed their huge eyes.

· Aunt Muriel… what is this orb for? Hermione asked with keen interest. - Oh, this is my little

invention, right! - answered the aunt with visible pleasure. - You know, contrary to popular belief, owls are quite stupid animals, they are not very trainable, since they are basically wild animals. Muggles don't even use them for postal purposes, they used to use pigeons to send letters, but that has gone out of fashion now. But for some reason wizards have been buying owls since ancient times, and that's why they tried to breed and cross them to make obedient pets out of them... They were more or less successful, but they weren't nearly as effective postmen as my owls! With that ball there, I hypnotize my owls from the time they are young so that they will be loyal to their owner until they are old...

· But... but with hypnotism, Aunt Muriel? Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. - This is how they lose their individuality… are you saying that our owls are actually mindless zombies?

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· No, no, no! No brainless! On the contrary! protested the aunt. - The animal's personality is not affected by hypnotism, and it does not impair its mental abilities. Rather, hypnotism increases the knowledge and learning ability of the owls, it only plants tendencies in them, seeds, if you will, which the future owner must blossom by taking care of his owl and thanking him for his services.

· But, if we inculcate loyal behavior in them - the girl scolded - that in itself affects their personality, doesn't it? After all, it may be that the most important personality element of a specimen is that it is not loyal, but a rebellious type, for whom freedom is everything... this is just like with house elves. People think that they are all servile, but there are those among them who long for freedom.

Ron spectacularly slapped his forehead, covering his eyes and muttering something about being a monkey. Harry has already realized what the girl is trying to get at: she is once again voicing the principles of the people's liberator, and it seems that she wants to extend it to the owls as well. Aunt Muriel, on the other hand, did not get angry with the girl, but rather listened to her every word with interest - it seems that she was glad to have found such an intelligent conversational partner.

· Well, there is indeed a lot of truth in what you say, my little heart, but you should look at this topic from another side as well! the aunt explained with a smile. - You are right that there are owls - and, as you mentioned, house elves too - who want freedom instead of a life of servitude. M-, any people think that such out-of-order specimens and creatures do not do their job and can therefore be classified as scrap. I see it differently... The fact that there are rebellious individuals is proof of how colorful the world is, how many personalities mix and try to live together, which is often difficult, complicated and painful.

Unruly owls like these, or elves who dream of clothes, are also useful members of society, each of them has a purpose - this is something that many wizards do not understand. Such specimens should not be killed, as many breeders do with animals considered to be scraps, but left to do what their soul desires. I

I set them free...

· He enslaves the rest even more - Hermione began to ride herself more and more. - He takes advantage of the fact that they are like this, that they accept servitude and... - Do you think

so? - interrupted the aunt kindly. "Or am I just giving them what they want?"

· They don't want that! It's… it's just a tendency that people take advantage of…

· Harmonia, look…

· Hermione.

· Sorry... Please try to get away from the human way of thinking a little and try to think with the head of a wild animal! What does a wild animal that lives its life in the forest, surrounded by predators and rivals, want? We, the people, need to know this too, since we were one of them a long time ago. It remains in the instincts...

A wild animal, like an owl, longs to have food, companionship, offspring, and a safe haven.

That and nothing more. Owls with a rebellious spirit want the same thing, the only difference is that they don't accept the person who would give it to them, they want to get it with their own strength. Owls don't want leaders, they don't want politicians who fight for their rights... Even the most loyal owls to their owner are much freer than you or me. Hypnosis does not change this either. It only deepens the relationship between man and bird... So that the bird is better suited to carrying leaves, and thus, indirectly, the man also gives the owl a safe place and food.

"Not all animals are like that..." Hermione tied the bet to the stake, but with much less momentum than before.

It could be seen that the old lady's words made him think. "The aunt also said... owls are stupid." What about those who are much more sensible? Almost like a human?

· You mean house elves, right? Hermione nodded.

· Well, indeed, elves would certainly be able to build a society like goblins, or… like, say, mermaids. But over the centuries they have lived with wizards who have given them tasks. They were not their slaves, rather they were their helpers... they often stood up completely by themselves in the service of a mage, even, sometimes a Muggle. The elves felt that they had a duty to help others with their abilities... Here, of course, I am generalizing again, as there could be elves who had no intention of helping anyone...

Over a long period of time, both parties, elves and humans, got used to this servant-master relationship, and when the world of wizards became institutionalized, first with the Wizard Council and then with the Ministry of Magic, the presence of house elves also had to be institutionalized. The elves accepted the decision of the wizards, just as they accepted everything else... This is how the current situation developed.

· So the elves themselves wanted this to happen to them? Did they decide for slavery themselves? But how, I can't understand this...?

· You're thinking like a human again, Hermione! - warned the aunt. – Just like owls, elves have completely different needs than a human. This is what the elves wanted! They have abilities that a wizard will never have, no wizard! They can hover wherever they want, can perform several different spells at once without using a wand, can become invisible at will

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they can become… When someone has this kind of power, they may feel the need to help others. You can't sit on your laurels without doing something. I'm sure you know this feeling too, after what you've done... I heard the rumors - the aunt smiled.

· Please, Hermione, you must realize that all creatures on this earth should do what they want, live as they see fit. Of course, this is impossible, but we must not intentionally make their situation worse, out of selfish interests, or just because we think we know what they need better than they do!

As with owls, we have to let go of eccentrics and rebels in this case as well. They should not be forced against their will into a situation that is not good for them either. But if we set all elves free now, because we think freedom is the most important thing for them, like all creatures, that would be cruelty. It would be like forcing them into slavery. We would deprive them of their desires, of the life they loved.

Hermione didn't answer, but her silence proved that she finally understood why the MONKEY was a watered-down idea. What he thought was a good deed, because it gave him freedom, would actually have taken away the meaning of the elves' lives. They might have been physically free, but with no purpose, no future, which is far worse than wearing a pillowcase as clothing.

At the same time, Harry also understood something that he couldn't accept due to his uncontrollable rage and sadness when he heard it from Dumbledore on the day of Sirius' death: For Sipor, whose life was to serve the Blacks close to him and loved, the disowned Sirius was agony his service, and now he, Harry's, is the same.

Harry thought for a long time about what he had heard and decided to himself that if this nightmare ever ends, if the war is over, he will find a family of wizards for Sipor, whom he will be happy to serve in the twilight of his life. Because every life matters, every life is precious and remarkable, even one like Sipo's.

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Chapter

5 Tonks, the rescue angel

Life in the Prewett house was very similar to the life inside the Black house, with the difference that it was a bit more hectic, as not only the members of the Order of the Phoenix held their meetings here, but also the wedding preparations disturbed the tranquility of the otherwise quiet and peaceful house. – which Aunt Muriel didn't take badly at all. Harry had a bit of a sense of deja vu, because instead of cleaning the Black house, he was now busy preparing for the wedding, like Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Neither Fred nor George could pull themselves out of work now, as Mrs Weasley had ordered them to close the shop until the ceremony was over, with some sort of 'closed due to illness' excuse. This provoked a fierce protest from the twins and they immediately started their "we're adults, you don't order us around" performance, but it soon proved that Mrs. Weasley's stern gaze could still achieve wonderful results. Thus, the Harrys were not left alone in the work, which they were really happy about, since Mr and Mrs Weasley, Charlie and the other guests

visiting the house were all at the service of the Order, and their task was much more important and urgent than organizing weddings. And Harry didn't order Siport here to do the work for them because of his new-found solidarity. The only help of the small team was Aunt Muriel, who supervised the cleaning, packing, and gardening.

The twins fought for themselves to clean the wine cellar - according to Ron's conviction, so that they wouldn't dry up in the big job...

The first task of the Harrys was to carry out the trash, old furniture, and rags from the large living room of the house - because the aunt did not use this place very much, and used it as a garbage dump. Much of the furniture was full of owl droppings, which made it difficult to transport. At Ginny's suggestion, they took out the dragonskin gloves that the students had been wearing since first year in botany and potions. The gloves spared them from getting dirty, but their hands soon got sweaty from the hard work. The big, heavy furniture was lying on top of each other, in a tangled mess, so they had to be dug out by hand, magic didn't help here. Down the stairs, Hermione and Ginny were already floating the cupboards, until Mrs Weasley saw that one eyed girl dared to use magic outside the school.

· Come on mom! she protested. "Here at the Ministry, they don't realize that I did the magic!" And anyway... I'm the best in the whole grade in magic...

· I don't care, Ginny! Mrs. Weasley cooed with her daughter. - They told me that minors can't do magic outside of school! It will be best if you come with me and help me cook lunch. So only Ron and

Harry did the packing, and Hermione did the levitation - and the two boys weren't really happy about that. Ron didn't because Ginny was much faster than Hermione, and Harry because he liked working around the red-haired girl much better. - And now what to do with this huge pile? Hermione asked Aunt Muriel

after the limousines were carried out.

debris in front of the house in the yard.

"I think we should set it on fire..." suggested Ron, but Aunt Muriel had other plans.

The furniture, clothes, cages, and all other non-magical things were thrown down to the bottom of the hill next to the stairs leading to the house, and then the aunt went into town to put up wall stickers for those who were interested. In the afternoon, the muggles arrived for the garbage disposal, and they happily picked through the things that could still be used.

The next day, the cleaning of the drawing room was interrupted by an unexpected event - it was unexpected because it was completely forgotten in the big work: the arrival of Hogwarts letters. Harry, Ron and Hermione opened the envelopes out of sheer habit to read Headmistress McGonagall's lines. When Mrs. Weasley also learned that the letters had arrived, it seemed to Harry that the woman had become deeply silent and avoided company all day.

· Just tell me Ron, does your mom already know you're not going back to school? Harry asked. His friend let out a big sigh before answering,

"Yeah, you know… I put the facts straight after we got home - that was the first thing I did." I'm not saying he was really freaked out... But now he's somewhat calmer. -

And... and you know what we're going to do?

· No way! Do you think I told him? Ron whispered into Harry's ear. - He would have been shocked! All he knows is that we are going away and won't be home for a long time... In fact, I even reassured him with this, because he thinks that the war is ahead, so we will be safe...

Harry nodded and thought that Ron had really laid out their plans well. Still, he felt a little bad that they were going on such a dangerous journey, while Mrs. Weasley would think they were safe.

· Hermione, what did you say at home? Ron turned to her.

· It was easy for me! Hermione waved. "I said that I would postpone school for a year and rather travel to gain experience, which... after all, it's true, in some ways," she added with a smile.

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"It's… in a way," Harry and Ron grinned at each other, wondering if Hermione would be able to approach something other than from the side of learning and gaining experience.

Along with the usual list of textbooks, Ron and Harry were also given a hopscotch exam paper with the following sample text:

Dear examinee!

We ask that the due date for the springboard exam be scheduled for next Saturday, August 9, but. At 6:00 a.m., report to the Department of Magical Transportation Department of the Ministry of Magic in London at the Hopping Test Center. Please also bring the attached evaluation form with you to the exam and fill in your personal data beforehand. Sincerely,

Wilkie Derreng hopscotch examiner

· Only six days until then! Ron said with a pale face. The boy failed his very first exam on April 21st, so he was understandably a little worried about the next test.

· Don't worry, it will definitely work out now - Hermione reassured - last time it only depended on one small thing...

· A trifle... of course... - the boy grumbled. "You screamed when you left a lock of your hair behind during the second practice... my eyebrows are the little thing..."

Harry wasn't the least bit excited about the jumping test, on the one hand, because he had already done quite well, and on the other hand, he wouldn't have bothered if he failed and didn't get his driver's license.

· Who can be the new defense against dark spells teacher? What book did he prescribe? Harry asked turning to Ginny.

She skimmed through her textbook and frowned thoughtfully.

· I don't see it... we don't have a SVK book...

"Maybe it was removed from the curriculum, after so many terrible things happened to the teachers," suggested Hermione.

· Wait! Ron spoke up. - didn't you read this here?

Ron pointed to the bottom of McGonagall's letter, where an additional notice could be read after the usual text.

· Please note: "... we hereby inform the dear students that the subject of warding off dark magic has been removed from the curriculum, instead students will study a course entitled magical self-defense within the framework of magic, in an increased number of hours from the first year to the seventh year." "Magical self-defense?" What's the point of a mere

name change? "That's how they want to protect themselves against the curse..." Harry suggested. "Voldemort cursed the Defense Against the Dark Arts subject, so if they change his name, maybe the curse won't work."

· What...? Did Voldemort curse the subject? Ginny was shocked.

"Yes, of course, you didn't know..." Harry remembered. "Voldemort really wanted to teach that subject at first, and when Dumbledore refused, he cursed the whole thing."

· Huh... then it's no wonder that all the teachers went crazy...

"Not all of them..." Harry grumbled and Snape was on his mind, then gritted his teeth he added: "yet..."

That day, they continued to beautify the salon: they washed, dusted, cobwebbed, set up two huge tables and many, many chairs to receive the guests.

The next day, the garden was tidied up, the grass was mowed, the flower bed weeded, the base of the bushes cleared of dwarfs and the hedge trimmed to shape. By the end of the whole job, they were fairly tired and had a hearty muscle fever. If Harry had thought before that they would have an easier time than House Black, he had to admit that he was wrong. The new headquarters tired them out at least as much, but at least they didn't have to fight the nasty pests - doxies and fairy elves.

They knew almost everyone among the members of the Order, there were only one or two new people who visited the house. Lupin, Tonks and Mordon were the most frequent visitors to the headquarters, which made the Harrys very happy. However, the meetings were strictly secret and Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and the twins were still not invited. True, the twins didn't take it badly, they had enough to do without following the war, but the Harrys were affected by it all the worse. Lupine still held that the Order of the Phoenix could only be members of adults who had graduated from Hogwarts, and none of the members of the company complied.

· Mother is in the background, that's for sure! - remarked Ron angrily when the door to the study where the meetings were going on was slammed shut in front of them. "He asked Lupin not to let us into the Order... this whole 'you haven't been to Hogwarts' thing is a lot of nonsense, it doesn't suit Lupin at all..."

Harry wasn't so sure about that, but he agreed with Ron that Mrs Weasley would certainly take any opportunity to get her children out of the war, and Harry didn't blame her for that – he wasn't happy about it.

Frustrated, they headed back to work when Hermione stopped them:

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· Just wait! he said and went close to the door. "Would it be possible…?"

· What is it? Ron asked.

· I didn't hear the clinking sound of the door opening, the girl said in a whisper.

· Huh! Then maybe the phone can get through the gap... - Ron dug in his pocket and quickly pulled out a couple of long, flesh-colored strings. Due to the experiences of the previous years, Ron always carried some of his twin brothers' invention with him, which made it easy to eavesdrop on secret meetings, even behind closed doors. Following Ron's example, Harry took out his own phone and was not surprised that Ginny had one in her hand.

"Here, here's a..." Ron handed Hermione the other remote, then they all went to the door and slipped the ends of the strings under.

They waited patiently for the snippets of speech, the details of the deliberations, but nothing was heard.

Harry knew very well that even if they spoke in whispers and were at the far end of the room from them, they should still be able to hear everything as if they were standing right next to them. They heard an orphan's nest, footsteps, whispers, nothing.

· I don't understand... but it should work... - Ron was completely at a loss.

· Wait a minute - Ginny pressed her ear to the door, then gently tapped it. The door made a normal knocking sound. Ginny shrugged. "He's not really armored though… Harry, what are you doing!?"

Bored of waiting impatiently, Harry pointed his wand at the keyhole and opened the lock. The door creaked open and Harry entered without thinking. He was shocked to notice that there was not a single created soul in the room. The afternoon sunlight shone sleepily through the closed window, scattered by the beautiful mirrors to all corners of the room. Ron, Hermione and Ginny also entered the room with their mouths hanging open.

· What the…?

· Where did you all go?

"Maybe a secret room opens from here," suggested Ginny.

"No, that's impossible," Hermione shook her head. "Rooms surround this place on all sides, and we all know it." On one side is your parents' room, on the other is Aunt Muriel's, and we saw them all. They can't be there…

· Maybe they are in the closet and have been enlarged with a space-expanding charm! Ron said, already opening the wardrobe door…but there was only a gray robe and a couple of broken glasses, nothing more.

"That means they're not even here..." Hermione thought aloud.

· Wow, you're smart! Did you come up with this yourself? Ron scoffed. "I mean not here, in the house, but somewhere else," the girl grumbled.

· So they dehopped?

· No, Ginny, you can't go off here...

· Good, good!... I mean, did they use a spanner then? Hermione frowned at the mystery.

"Maybe..." he said slowly. "But it's also possible that they left in a different way." Say, like the wall at King's Cross station that leads to platform 9 and ... Maybe when they stepped through the door of the study, they went to another place that we didn't see... a secret place. They may not have gone far, but they may be on the other side of the country…

· But what if...

· Oh, leave it! Harry snapped nervously. "Don't you see?" They blew our minds! We won't be initiated into anything until they want us to! But that's fine, then they won't be initiated into anything!

· Don't you think you're a little childish? Hermione choked out.

Harry sighed. He took this omission the wrong way, it reminded him of the situation two years ago, when the Order and its friends did not inform him of anything during the summer vacation. Nevertheless, he was ashamed of his earlier outburst. Only now did he realize how petty he was.

· But yes... sorry. Let's get out of here. Let's continue mowing the hedge.

On Saturday, Harry and Ron got up early for a change, so that they could be on time for the jumping test. The hated alarm clock showed five in the morning, when the two boys half-asleep washed and dressed. When they entered the kitchen to eat the meager breakfast - it was just tea and toast, because Charlie knew from experience that it was not recommended to stuff yourself up before jumping, Mrs. Weasley ordered them to immediately change into normal clothes, they could not go to the exam in jeans and T-shirts . So Harry and Ron, looking even more bored-, climbed back upstairs to change into robes.

· How are we going to get to London? Ron asked as he propped his head up and stuffed himself with the stale toast.

"They went over the fireplace with hop dust," replied Mrs. Weasley.

· Did we have to change clothes so that we can get together now? Ron shook his head.

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· Good morning, good morning! - greeted them by the always cheerful Aunt Muriel, who then entered the room. – are you prepared for the competition?

The two boys growled in unison in response.

· Well, keep your head up, it will definitely work! - the aunt assured them. "Hoppanning is not such a big number!"

I remember that I succeeded on the first practice, although we had a much better teacher then, not Derreng, that incompetent armor! Calm down, then I'll be nervous in front of the door for you while you're inside, then when you're done...

· How-how? Is the aunt coming with us? Harry shook his head.

· Yes, yes. Haven't I said it yet?

· What are you doing at the Ministry, Aunt Muriel? Ron asked in amazement.

· Little this - little that - answered the aunt mysteriously and refused to say a word more about the subject. "Now you have to concentrate on the hopscotch!"

After putting down the toast and downing the small amount of tea, Harry and Ron walked over to the fireplace, and Aunt Muriel held out an ornate wooden box in front of them that held the glittering hop powder. They took a handful of the dust and threw

it into the fire, causing the flames to turn green. Ron stepped into the fire, announced his destination, and disappeared. He was followed by Harry, who was a little uneasy about this form of travel, due to bad experiences, but he also successfully arrived in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

The atrium had changed a lot since he had last been here - obviously, since it had been razed to the ground. The huge golden statues that Professor Dumbledore incited against Voldemort in the fierce fight against Voldemort did not return to the vacated pedestal of the Fountain of the Magical Brotherhood, which was also destroyed.

They disappeared, as did the professor…

The golden symbols still danced incessantly on the peacock-blue ceiling, but the wooden floor, once polished to a shine, had been properly neglected: it was worn, dull, stringy, and here and there there were cobwebs hanging on the walls, which had been cleaned by diligent hands a few years ago, so that the wizards of Great Britain had a centuries-old may its governing body, which looks back on the past, always shine gloriously when it welcomes stray guests. However, the current state reflected the crisis period, when people are no longer interested in pomp, comfort and appearance - only survival and victory. It was the War Department.

However, there was no change in the colorful crowd of people who lined up at the fireplaces of the atrium leaving and arriving, and Aunt Muriel, who came behind Harry, already led the two boys on so that they would not hold up the nervous crowd. Their first journey led to the Security Police Service, where the guard in peacock blue robes registered the boys' wands.

When she examined Aunt Muriel's wand, she looked up at its owner, and a startled realization crossed her face.

· Miss Prewett! he exclaimed. "But I'm glad to see you!" He visited us a long time ago...

· Yes, I had a lot to do - the aunt said, smiling, the obvious lie and took back her wand. "Just like now, so forgive me..."

With that, they continued to stand and walk past the gold-barred gate towards the elevators, joining the snaking line in front of one of them. Pale purple paper airplanes were circling above their heads, which Harry knew were the Ministry's in-house messages, means of communication between the various departments.

Harry looked at Ron and saw that his friend was just as surprised at the former's strange greeting as he was. "Tell me, Aunt Muriel…" Ron began, but was interrupted by a powerful voice.

· MURIEL! Chicken! - shouted a bearded man from the group of people waiting in front of the adjacent elevator. He fought his way through the crowd of people and greeted the smiling and then blushing Auntie Muriel with a hand

kiss. - Ah, dear Arnold! We met a long time ago.

· How much? Seventeen years? Muriel, you are more beautiful than ever!

Slowly, the scene attracted the interest of others, and some older witches and wizards joined Arnold to greet the aunt enthusiastically. Some approached directly, others greeted the aunt with special respect. The younger clerks and workers, on the other hand, were baffled by the events, just like Harry and Ron. They had no idea who this old lady was, and as Harry looked at Ron's shocked face, he had to realize that this situation was new to them too.

The arrival of the elevator saved the Harrys from further enthusiastic greetings. The elevator doors creaked open and they entered along with a few other wizards and witches. Aunt Muriel quickly pressed the button for the sixth floor. The elevator started going up, and soon they arrived, their elevator companions all headed for the upper floors.

· Sixth level, Magical Department of Transportation; Hop Network Inspection, Broom Inspection Office, Zsupskulcs Inspection and Hoppanalás Examination Center - announced the monotone voice.

The trio exited the elevator and, led by Aunt Muriel, Harry and Ron marched down the long corridor of the Head Office. Along the whitewashed walls, doors opened to the left and right to offices, to the subdivisions, or to warehouses and broom storage. A few doors were open, and Harry and Ron peered through them with involuntary interest.

In one of the large rooms, several brooms were seen floating in the air, and below them wizards dressed in gray were examining the flying works with magnifying glasses and golden wands. Harry suspected it might be the Office of Broom Control.

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They turned around a corner, where the corridor split into two, and soon they arrived at a black door, in front of which a couple of large groups were already waiting. A small gold sign on the door announced: "Hoppanalási Exam Center". Among the people waiting Harry saw quite a few familiar faces, including a very grumpy Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode, who were greeted with a rude grimace by the Harrys, Ernie Macmillan who gave a pale Susan Bones an encouraging hug, and a few other raven-backed girls and boys. , and…

· Neville! Ron exclaimed. - I completely forgot that you are taking exams now too!

· Hi Ron, hi Harry! – smiled the plump, round-faced Neville, then his eyes fell on Harry's companion. "Kiss me!" Miss Prewett? My grandmother told me about you... I'm very happy.

· Your grandmother, my dear? the aunt asked with a smile. "And who is your grandmother?"

· Augusta Longbottom... she is also here in the Ministry, she accompanied me, but she went back to the atrium, she is waiting for me there.

· Longbottom... Longbottom... - thought the aunt. "Your father and mother were Aurors, right?" Neville nodded.

· Oh, I'm so sorry about what happened to them... I heard about it.

"Ummm… yes…" Neville was embarrassed, as he always was when his parents were brought up.

· Guys, I have to go now. I have something to do, the aunt announced.

· Are you working...? But tell me that... - Ron couldn't finish the sentence again, because Aunt Muriel had already turned the corner and hurried towards the elevators.

Harry and Ron immediately turned to Neville and began to feel very foolish.

· Neville, how do you know my aunt? the red-haired boy immediately asked.

· My grandmother told me about her... she used to work here at the Ministry and was a very influential witch...

But why you ask? You don't know?

· No! said Ron nervously. "I had no idea that he worked at the Ministry."

· What's up Potter, do you need an escort to get here, or are you just afraid to set foot in the Ministry alone? came Blaise Zabini's mocking voice.

· Why should I be afraid? Because you are here? Harry asked back, while he and Ron grabbed their wands under their robes.

· I was thinking about what happened with your godfather...

Harry moved at lightning speed. He pulled out his wand and pressed it against Zabini's throat before the thought had even entered the Slytherin boy's mind.

"Just try to finish it and I swear I'll curse you so that the cleaners will have to scrape your pieces up," Harry hissed angrily.

Zabini held up his arms defensively and backed away. Harry also lowered his wand and turned back to Ron and Neville.

· That was nice! Neville said appreciatively. "I almost didn't see that… watch out!" BANG!

Harry immediately spun around at the warning, only to see Zabini lying on his back with slightly furrowed brows, staring at his wand in wonder.

"Thanks Ron…" Harry muttered.

· I didn't do anything! Something happened to his wand…

· He went backwards when he wanted to curse Harry - explained Susan Bones, who was apparently cheered up by the interlude just now. "Didn't you know you can't curse in the Ministry, Zabini?" If security has checked your wand, a charm will prevent you from casting a curse with it.

The company laughed merrily at the Slytherin boy's bad luck, when a thin voice spoke behind them: - Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to take

the exam. Please, please, I won't be able to do it all morning. Young man, pull yourself together, added the shriveled Wilkie Derreng, when he saw Zabini lying on the ground.

Half an hour later, they walked out the door, Harry and Ron both agape and clutching the evaluation sheet. They said goodbye to Neville and headed for the elevators. Aunt Muriel was waiting for them here. - I see it worked, said the aunt

when she saw the grinning boys.

"Aunt Muriel, you didn't even say you used to work at the Ministry," Ron began as soon as he caught sight of his aunt. This was on his mind the whole time, so he had to use all his strength to concentrate only on that when panning, but the effort paid off.

· That was a long time ago, even before you were born Ron - the aunt answered with an unusually gloomy face. – I worked in the Ministry for a long time, I even had the honor of founding a case department.

The elevator arrived and all three got in. Aunt Muriel pressed the single button which took her to the top level of the Ministry, but Harry had never been there before, he didn't know what department was on that floor.

Apart from them, there was also a young, blond witch with glasses and a pile of documents in her hand. However, he soon disembarked on the fifth floor, in the Main Department of International Mage Relations. - And what happened

that you left them there? Ron continued to ask when the elevator started again.

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· Oh, I'm tired of the bureaucratic blood-sucking, and then I had to pass the baton to the younger generation...

But now I think it's time to come back from my vacation. It's not for me anyway... - Are you going to work at the Ministry again? Ron wondered.

· At least I hope they take me back. I have some things that I left here at the time, and now we might put them to good use.

The elevator was approaching the first floor, and Harry could already guess where they were going. Then she remembered something that the aunt

hadn't mentioned yet: - Ummm... didn't you like to say in which Department you worked, Aunt Muriel?

The elevator screeched to a halt and the door opened.

· Ministry Secretariat - came the concise information from the booth.

"On Mystery and Mysteries," answered the aunt, then exited the elevator and started down the short corridor, leaving the stunned Ron and Harry behind.

After a few meters, the corridor widened into a blue-painted anteroom, and it was closed by a large, reddish door with knight's armor on both sides. Harry was quite surprised at the strange guard - that's what he immediately thought, but his mind quickly told him that the armor was probably only for decorative purposes, just like at Hogwarts.

Along the wall there were hangers and a small bench, above it on a tiny gold plaque the inscription: "We ask our guests to leave their coats and hats here". The boys took off their robes as instructed and followed Aunt Muriel through the red door. Three more doors opened from the room, one of which led to the office of Rufus Scrimgeur, Minister of Magic, the second to the study of Dolores Umbridge, the Secretary of State of the Ministry's office, and the third to Cornelius's Fudge - the title was not indicated here.

However, upon entering the room, the first thing all three noticed was the young man sitting at the wide desk, who was none other than the "black sheep" of the Weasley family, Percy.

· Hello Percy! Aunt Muriel greeted the boy kindly, as befits an aunt. He showed no signs of resenting Percy, unlike Ron and Harry who were stubbornly silent.

"Good morning, Miss Prewett," Percy said in a dispassionate voice, which made Ron's fist clenched into a fist.

immediately -,

Percy stood up from the table measuredly, walked to the door of his supervisor's office and knocked. "Yes?" - came the voice from inside. Percy opened the door.

· The Minister, Miss Prewett and Harry Potter have arrived.

· Yes, let them in…

Even Aunt Muriel frowned at this - how did the minister know that Harry Potter would be with him?

Percy opened the door for his aunt and Harry, but when Ron was about to enter after his friend, Percy stopped him.

Before the door closed, Harry looked at his friend and saw that Ron wanted to wring Percy's hand that was touching him.

· Ah, dear Muriel! Nice to see you…and you, Harry.

Aunt Muriel returned the polite formality, but Harry just nodded. At the minister's warning, they took their seats on the prepared red velvet chairs.

The minister's office was a very spacious room, with red draperies hanging on the walls, and an expensive Persian carpet stretching across the room on the shiny wooden floor. Behind the mahogany desk, a large window took up most of the wall, to the right of it was a beautiful fireplace, and to the left, towering filing cabinets. Portraits of deceased ministers and minister's wives were displayed around the walls.

"Well, I've got your letter, Miss Prewett," she began her speech about the man wanting to talk to me.

-, but he did not say what it was

· I would like you to take me back to work as an employee of the Main Department of Mysteries - the aunt announced without hesitation. "I think they need all available people in these troubled times."

Rufus Scrimgeur watched his aunt's face over his copper-rimmed glasses, occasionally glancing almost imperceptibly at Harry.

· Why the Main Department of Mysteries? We have enough staff in that case department, we would need much more people in the Main Department for the Prosecution of Magical Crimes...

· Because, dear Mr. Scrimgeur, that is how I could best put my abilities to the service of the Ministry.

· Miss Prewett, I hope you understand that now we are primarily looking for new workforce in those areas that assist in the prosecution of crimes, and that the Department of Mysteries is not tasked with the investigation of Who-Know-Who...

"It's bad enough," said the aunt and looked at the minister patiently waiting.

Scrimgeur flipped through a pre-prepared file as he seemed to ponder Aunt Muriel's offer.

· Miss Prewett, you were an employee of the Department of Mysteries from March 1956 until November 1979, when you retired with an unexpected decision, but you did not explain why - Scrimgeur looked questioningly at Aunt Muriel, who noticed and realized that the Minister was waiting for an answer .

· Oh, I didn't explain it even then, dear Minister, why do you think I'm answering it now? The minister smiled, but only like a hungry lion stalking its prey.

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· You know, I was a sub-commander at the Auror Command at the time, and I remember that there was a rumor among the leadership at the time, Bartemius Kupor, Cornelius Caramel and the others, that his sudden decision might have something to do with the Closed Room...

Scrimgeur waited a bit again, but Aunt Muriel didn't say a word, she quietly listened to the minister's ramblings, neither confirming nor denying them - which he obviously wasn't happy about.

· Something happened in that room that you refused to explain to anyone, right? - the minister continued with a little more vigor. "Not even for you, Dumbledore, who, if I remember correctly, asked you for a long time why you ordered level 3 security for that door, which has not been opened since then... and is only referred to as: the Locked Room."

· Do you mean that I have come back now because of the Closed Chamber, dear Mr. Scrimgeur?

· He closed the room when Tudjukki was at the height of his power, and now that he's getting stronger again...

· Ah, so he's getting stronger! - Aunt Muriel interrupted the minister's words for the first time. "He didn't say that to the newspapers..."

· Now that's not the point! snapped Scrimgeur. "The important thing is that you obviously came back because of Who-Know-Who, at the behest of the Order of the Phoenix, to a company that is largely made up of my own aurors, and even they are not willing to get involved in the details!"

· That could be bad, dear, good minister... - said the old lady quietly. "It can't be good that even your own people don't trust the leadership..."

· You find this funny!? the minister sputtered.

· No, of course, sir... Please calm down! - the aunt stood up, and Harry followed her example. "I think we have nothing more to do here." If the Ministry does not require my services, I will not force my company on them... Let's go Harry!

Aunt Muriel started for the door with Harry in tow, but the minister's voice stopped her.

· I'll take him back to the fold, Muriel. For the Mystery... but it comes at a price.

Harry didn't like the accent in the way Scrimgeur spoke at all. The paintings on the wall listened silently to the scene.

· Really? And what would that be? asked the aunt.

Scrimgeur stood up and walked around the desk to face them.

· They are initiated into all the secrets and plans of the Order of the Phoenix. And now in charge of Auror Command

is ordered under.

· Don't be ridiculous! - the aunt raised her voice for the first time. – The essence of the Order of the Phoenix is that it operates independently of the Ministry! If one crashes, the other can still work!

· In short, no? asked the minister measuredly.

· Of course not - was the firm answer.

For a minute the minister and the aunt locked eyes, and for a moment Harry thought Scrimgeur was about to spring at them like some bloodthirsty lion.

"I'm not surprised that you answered that…" the minister began, his voice once again taking on that raspy, ominous tone that made Harry very uneasy. "Well, in that case, there's nothing else I can do." I'm afraid Mr Potter can't leave here without our permission.

· What!? the aunt exclaimed.

"We do know, from a reliable source, that Mr. Potter used the forbidden Cruciatus Curse on a human, which, even in a case like the one in the atrium, can hardly be called self-defense... And since Harry is now of age, there is nothing to prevent it from being inflicted on him." the appropriate punishment...

· How do you imagine!? the aunt shouted. "Is that true for you!" Harry was still a minor when it happened... This... this... You can't impose the punishment of an adult on a... - Oh, of course... -

the minister grinned lustfully. "You know, Muriel, that the use of curses does not go out of date... These are our strictest laws..."

· But almost all of his aurors allow entrance curses! Is that democracy for you? And anyway… Harry is known as the Chosen One, he can't be imprisoned!

· They won't find out... But I don't even have to put Harry in prison. My conditions are given: control over the Order of the Phoenix.

· What do you need it for? Harry interjected, shaking with rage and close to pulling out his wand - which he knew would accomplish nothing.

· How for what? Scrimgeur laughed. "I cannot allow the power of the Ministry to weaken because people's loyalty is drawn to a wizard who has been dead for months, rather than to leadership according to the law!" This is unacceptable and in the current crisis situation... it would cause a disaster.

· Disaster!? screamed Aunt Muriel. - Do you know how many spies there may be among your officials? It would be a disaster if those spies found out about the activities of the Order...

· Are you accusing Ministry of Magic officials of espionage? Did you think about what you were saying? - the discussion started to deteriorate.

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· You are not normal! Aunt Muriel shouted in the minister's face. "His obsession with power has completely taken his mind!"

· I can't stand being questioned in my own office! Scrimgeur bellowed and yanked his wand forward. "That's enough!" Potter is under arrest and is staying here until McGonagall comes to his senses and…

· STUPOR!

The red flash and the loud bang halted the flow of words of the minister, who fell forward unconscious due to the stun curse on him. At first Harry thought that Aunt Muriel had cast a spell despite the magical protection, but he soon realized that his savior was the panty pink haired Nymphadora Tonks standing behind the minister.

· Hello Harry! Miss Prewett…" Tonks smiled, then looked at the result of her curse. "I thought it was better to intervene, because things were starting to get rough..."

"You saw it right, my dear," left Aunt Muriel, panting with fright.

Even Harry was just beginning to recover from his shock - he had almost been arrested! However, the curiosity of how Tonks got here immediately began to gnaw at her side.

· Mordon was so good and lent him his invisibility cloak - Tonks showed the magical garment, glancing at Harry's questioning face. "That's how I managed to sneak in undetected at dawn." You were right, Miss Prewett. This figure really isn't normal... Good heavens, when I think about how he almost failed me from stealth and tracking...

· Oh dear, we are very grateful. I think we should go, but it wouldn't hurt if you wiped this bugger's memories. But not all of them...

Remember that you took me back to the Ministry. - It will be, Miss Prewett, don't worry. I will arrange everything here and I will come soon.

With that, Harry and Aunt Muriel left the minister's office to join the impatiently waiting

To Ron, who asked them all the way home about what happened in the office, but only received a detailed report at home, along with Hermione, Ginny, the twins and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix.

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Chapter 6

Two-headed pumpkins

Out of the entire Order, Lupine was the most horrified by what happened in the Ministry, and he immediately ordered Harry not to leave the house unsupervised for his own safety. Harry didn't take this in the least bit kindly, though, and spent long hours all Saturday arguing with Lupin about safety and the true extent of the danger.

· Harry, listen to me, please! - said the worn-faced Lupin patiently, when he and Harry told the members of the Order for the fourth time what had happened, this time to Mordon.

They sat or stood in the living room, depending on their mood and temperament. Lupine sat calmly in an armchair and tried to convince the boy, who was pacing up and down the room like a caged lion.

· This move by the minister proved that he will stop at nothing to take control of the Order of the Phoenix... - Lupine sighed worriedly. "Harry, would you stop doing that?"

Harry stopped in the middle of the room and watched with folded arms.

· Good, the man confirmed. "Now that Dumbledore is dead, the restraining force that kept him from…"

· I'm not interested in this text, he's already said it a thousand times! Harry cut in irritably. "I want you to understand that I cannot stay at headquarters." Ron and Hermione planned to leave after the wedding... - And why, if I may ask? asked Mordon, who hadn't said a word since the beginning of the conversation.

Harry scratched his head nervously and leaned his back against the wall.

"I can't say… Dumbledore wanted it that way."

· Dumbledore? Lupin was surprised. "The professor wanted you to leave with a whistle for safety... but... ?"

· No matter how incredible: yes. Harry stated the blunt truth. Lupine shook his head disapprovingly.

· But where? Where would you go?

Harry snorted in annoyance. There you go! How could he explain to them that Dumbledore had ordered them to find the Horcruxes and destroy them without anyone knowing? Do you take them in…? No, Dumbledore's instructions were clear. No one but Hermione and Ron should know about the plan.

· I can't say that. Dumbledore forbade me to tell…

· No, that's out of the question! Lupine growled. "How could he have given you such an order…?" That doesn't prove it...

"But yes, that's exactly what it says," Hermione interjected, who had been listening to the discussion silently along with Ron.

All heads turned to her at the same time, and she blushed for a moment. He quickly gathered himself, cleared his throat and began to explain in more detail: - Dumbledore has entrusted us

with various tasks several times, for example when we freed Sirius from Professor Flitwick's room...

· That was different! Lupin blurted out. "Then there was no other choice." But in such a serious situation, the professor would not entrust you with a task that someone else could do...

· No one else can do it - said Ron now, and suddenly he also received full attention in the room. "Only Harry…"

For a full minute, everyone stared at the three good friends in silence, and everyone had the same terrifying thought, which Lupine finally managed to moan out.

"Are you saying that Voldemort is the reason they left?"

The question hung in the air and no one was willing to answer it. Harry finally settled for an argument that was going nowhere. Pushing herself away from the wall, she stepped in front of Lupine and looked him straight in the eyes with a very serious face.

· I know it's hard for you to understand, but there are things I can't tell you in the same way as you can tell me and Ron. I want you to understand that no matter what happens, Ron, Hermione and I will be out of here a few days after the wedding. There is no way you can prevent…

Lupine's mouth fell open, Mordon muttered disapprovingly. Harry felt bad for having to tell them the fact of his departure so coldly and uncontroversially, but he just couldn't help it.

Everyone has their own job to do, and his was clear and straightforward. You can't let him dangle his legs. Now that Voldemort knows that Dumbledore and he have discovered his secret, it is even more urgent to destroy the Horcruxes.

Lupine didn't say another word, got up in exasperation and left, followed by Mordon and the Order members present, Tonkas, Dedalus Diggle and a previously unseen witch. No member of the Order asked Harry any questions after that, but the next day they held a secret meeting in the study - or somewhere, because again not a single orphan was heard from the room.

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However, the unpleasant news did not leave their ominous mark on the days spent at the Prewett house for long, because on Monday afternoon Bill, Fleur, Mr and Mrs Delacour finally arrived back from France, and with them came Fleur's grandmother and cousin. Bill had looked much better since Harry had last seen him, although his face still bore the scars that Fenrir Grayback, the brutal werewolf, had torn from the boy on the night of Dumbledore's death. Fortunately, it wasn't a full moon, so Bill didn't get the terrible disease like Lupin, who was also a victim of Grayback when he was young. Despite this, Lupine had warned them that there might be some changes in the boy, but all Harry noticed at first glance was that Bill had a bit more facial hair than before. His sideburns grew stronger and reached down to his chin, but it improved his face more by hiding some of the scars. Bill was cheerful as always, he seemed to have gotten over the bad memories and he didn't have to worry about Fenrir anymore as the werewolf was sent to the darkest cell in Azkaban thanks to Harry.

Fleur came hand in hand with her grandmother, from whom she inherited her features and cascade of blonde hair—Fleur's grandmother was her. True, she was already a very old woman, over a hundred years old, but her natural attractiveness and charm remained in part, Harry was sure that the lady must have been even more beautiful in her youth than her granddaughter.

Harry soon realized that Fleur was not the least bit annoying, cocky, pompous and not acting like the spoiled goose that Ginny often mentioned - compared to her kin. Mr. Delacour was a perfectly average golden-blooded wizard with a slightly balding head and a distinctive French moustache, but his wife, Mrs. Delacour, was more than that. He could talk for hours on end about incredibly insignificant things, and it was typical of him that anyone who said anything felt a strong compulsion that what he had to say was much more important - and he was able to satisfy this with a rant that embarrassed Hermione. There was no sign of disapproval or impatience on Bill's face when he tried to start a normal conversation with his future mother-in-law, and Harry didn't know if it was just nerves or something else. He was sure that if he got a mother-in-law like that, their good relationship would end very quickly, because after ten minutes of the first conversation, she would start howling like an angry jackal.

Along with Ron, he also found that the most normal member of the Delacour clan was tiny Gabrielle, who reminded them both most of ten- year-old Ginny. This statement was close to the truth for a number of reasons, as Gabrielle looked up to the two boys with genuine adoration and blushed whenever she came near them, tending to knock things over in her path. In addition to this, sometimes very funny feature, Gabrielle reminded Harry of Ginny, as the blonde girl, apart from her hair color, was blessed with the same freckled face and sparkling brown eyes.

The cousin, whom Fleur introduced only as "Cousin Michelle", already belonged to another page. The blonde-haired girl was a full-blown psychopath in Harry's humble opinion, which he filtered based on several of her weirder and weirder statements.

· Hello! I'm Harry Potter - Harry introduced himself to the guest when the relatives arrived.

· So what? - he answered in a sarcastic tone, with a slight French accent, and continued to stand there. Harry knew the matter with that, he thought, at least he wouldn't have much trouble, but he was wrong.

Cousin Michelle found Ron to be an even more interesting phenomenon, perhaps because seeing her cousin's future self made her like red boys too.

· Udv! I'm Michelle,' she introduced herself seductively. "Hi-hi… me and Ron," Ron greeted.

· How tall and strong, just like his brother... - she said as if she were at an animal fair. Ron blushed to his ears.

Hermione did not find this one bit gratifying, and when Michelle noticed the brown-haired, disheveled girl, she glared at her like some disgusting glue on the soles of her shoes. The relationship between the two girls quickly soured, and Ron was caught between two fires. On one occasion, the French girl unceremoniously kicked Hermione out when she walked by. Harry wasn't idle either, and after helping the girl up who had fallen on her stomach, he sent an itchy curse on cousin Michelle, who a few minutes later screamed and scratched herself and ran up to her room.

In the days before the wedding, the finishing touches, decorations and smaller arrangements were done, Harry and his three friends didn't have much to do, apart from decorating the salon, which went quickly as they now had help. Most of their time, isolated from their relatives due to Ginny and Hermione's sparing, was spent in one of the upstairs bedrooms talking, playing chess, and reading - the latter mainly at Hermione's strong request, who insisted that despite their "hanging out" they read each seventh-year textbook at least once.

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On Sunday, the group had to get up early again - the long-awaited wedding day had arrived. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny's first order of business, like the others, was to wash up thoroughly and then change into their robes. There was no question of a morning shower, since there were about seventeen of them with the Delacours. Even so, a minor traffic jam developed in the bathroom, as everyone was only allowed a quick wash and brush their teeth, the girls could only do the further beautification in their room.

Everyone put on their best robes, Ginny and Gabrielle were dressed in beautiful golden dresses at Fleur's request, which went perfectly with their hair color. They got dressed together with Fleur in the upstairs room, so Harry could admire his secret girlfriend as a bridesmaid only much later, when the other guests arrived and it was time for the ceremony.

Harry and Ron were dressed in brand new robes, as it had been three years since the last time such a dress had been needed, and neither of them could hope to fit into the pieces of that time. Harry's new robes were also bought by Mrs Weasley with the money the boy had given her during his shopping spree a week before. The woman then shopped for additional items for the wedding while her children cleaned the Prewett house.

Harry's robes were a little different from the old ones, this one was black and much shorter, more like an elegant jacket than a robe, so it didn't have a hood. During the shortened dressing time, Harry decided to put on his new magical black boots and black pants for his new robes. When he examined himself in one of the five mirrors in their room, he felt a bit like a mourner, but he shrugged and joined the brown-robed Ron, who was already waiting for him in the corridor, impatiently biting his nails. Fortunately, his friend got a normal, new robe this way, which didn't have a single lace. When Harry joined him, Ron didn't want to move yet, and mostly kept an eye on the next door, probably waiting for Hermione.

· Would you be willing to come down? The first guests have already arrived! - Mrs. Weasley's voice was heard from below, and the boys had to go downstairs to receive the guests.

They knew most of the people who arrived in the next few hours. Some of them were members of the Order of the Phoenix, others worked in the Ministry, like Mr. Weasley's staff, or friends of the family. But there were also many completely unknown among them, and among them there were remarkably many blondes and redheads - because both families were of golden blood, therefore I can boast of extensive relatives, who were all among the invited guests. Looking at the unfamiliar faces, Harry wondered if any of them could be Voldemort's men. However, he quickly dismissed this idea, as everyone knew that the Weasleys were considered the biggest "traitors" among the pro-blood purity golden blood families, and it was certain that none of their enemies would come to the wedding. And he also quickly reminded himself that Mordon's magical boundary would not allow Death Eaters through.

However, he suddenly remembered another mystery, no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't come up with a reasonable answer.

He was about to turn to Ron to pull him aside and ask when a booming voice called his name.

· Harry! Ron! Hello! Hagrid's two and a half meter figure towered in front of them, obscuring the cloudy sky from the two boys' field of vision, and next to him was none other than Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons.

· Hi Hagrid! Kiss me Madame Maxime! - greeted Harry and Ron politely, and strangely Hagrid did not address them this time, but entered the house with a proud head, with the huge lady at his side.

The two boys grinned at each other, and when Ron formed a small heart from his hand, Harry laughed out loud.

· Potter, unrelenting vigilance! - shouted Alastor Mordon, who arrived next, to the laughing boys and entered the house shaking his head.

He was followed by Lupine and Tonks, who walked in hand in hand and the Harrys received only a hello and a faint smile from them as well.

Now there were no more guests for a while, and Harry pulled Ron aside from the door.

· Ron, listen, how is it that the house has a Fidelius charm and you were able to invite so many people? - Ummm... mother

would have liked a lot of guests, and then the rest of the protection will stay at the house. No one who is a Death Eater can get in… the Fidelius Charm can be renewed, and of course we didn't tell anyone that this is the warlord… WHAT!?

Harry followed Ron's gaze towards the courtyard and immediately understood why his friend had fainted. A young man approached them on the stairs leading to the house. A tall, dark-haired, gloomy-eyed boy whom they hadn't seen in three years: Viktor Krum.

· Who invited you? Ron growled at the boy's image as he reached them.

Krum frowned at the unfriendly greeting, which darkened his features even more.

· Fleur called me. He's an old friend. I was curious about your wedding - replied the Bulgarian hooker. "Hi!" He held out his hand to Harry, who accepted the right one.

· Hello! We met a long time ago. The rest of the guests are waiting inside, Harry added, making Krum disappear quickly as Ron looked like a puffing turd.

Krum entered the door and immediately engaged in conversation with Mordon. Harry turned to Ron when he was sure the newest guest couldn't hear them.

· Are you okay…?

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· No! I'm not well! Ron fumed. "You can put your picture here after so many years!" I know why he came! Because of Hermione! Oh... I want to tell you, because of Hermijjóni, that Bulgarian monkey would turn around!

· Calm down, please! Harry put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "That was a long time ago, there's probably nothing between them anymore." In fact, it could be that Krum already has another girlfriend - he didn't really mean it, but he felt like selling a little good lie.

Despite Harry's best efforts, Ron refused to calm down, his sudden paranoia becoming so intense that he left Harry there and ran into the house to immediately find Hermione.

Harry continued to receive the guests alone, until half an hour later, when the wedding planners in white robes, who had been watching over the place since dawn, started handing out instructions for everyone to get ready, the wedding would start in a few minutes.

It was early afternoon, when the crowd of more than fifty people gathered in front of the house in the courtyard, on the hilltop.

From here, there was a wonderful view of the landscape, the hilly, forested environment, on which the milky white fog sat low like a heavy shroud. The sky was overcast, the sun weakly illuminated the landscape. The wind was blowing only slightly, it didn't dampen spirits, and no rain fell from the clouds.

Ron, who didn't even glance at Harry and looked very upset, came scooting out the door with the first guests. The wedding planners directed the guests, first to a large wooden box in which lay snow-white lilies - from which everyone had to take a branch. Afterwards, according to the instructions of the organizers, they had to sit around a small wooden table, on the white lace tablecloth of which lay a scroll of parchment and two pens among small flowers. By the table stood the officiant of the wedding, a wizard with a long gray beard, and the two bridesmaids, Ginny and Gabrielle, and the best man, Charlie.

The guests had to stand in three circles, in the innermost circle - which surrounded the table at a distance of almost four meters - the closest relatives of the bride and groom were placed: parents, siblings, grandparents, and at the beginning of the ceremony, the bride

and groom themselves stood here, Fleur between Mr and Mrs Delacour and Bill between Mr and Mrs Weasley. Looking over the shoulders of two burly women, Harry caught sight of Fleur, who was more than beautiful in her snow-white robes, held together by a braided belt at the waist. Her hair was twisted into an elegant bun on the nape of her neck, and the whole thing was crowned by the magnificent headpiece that Aunt Muriel had lent her for the wedding.

Behind them stood the more distant relatives - aunts, uncles, cousins, godfathers and godmothers, their children and grandchildren - they formed the second circle. The third ring was the most populated, consisting of friends, acquaintances and very distant relatives who were left out of the second circle. Harry, Lupin, Mordon, Hagrid and Madame Maxime also came here, as well as Hermione and Viktor Krum, who were among the last to leave. "Ouch!" Harry moaned quietly when he saw her and Krum walking towards them holding hands, although he also noticed that Hermione didn't seem too excited to meet them.

It took about fifteen minutes for everyone to take the right place, and then the gray wizard raised his hand - and the crowd fell silent.

· Dear witches and wizards! the magician began the ceremony. "We have gathered for the marriage of Fleur Delacour and William Arthur Weasley on this day," he paused, then lowered his raised arm. "Hold each other's hands to complete the circle!"

All fifty people obeyed the magician's words at the same time. They all took Harry's hand beside them, Hagrid's and Hermione's, who along with Krum joined him in the circle. They clutched the white lily between their clasped hands. Harry noticed that most of the time during the ceremony, Krum was looking at the girl next to him with a strange fire in his eyes. Perhaps he expected Hermione to return the look, but he was to be disappointed. The girl never once looked up at the Bulgarian boy's face, but she couldn't monitor the wedding either - instead she was staring at his mirror-polished black shoes, and Harry noticed several times that she was squeezing his hand more and more. And Harry returned the squeeze so that his fingers almost turned white.

The ceremony continued, the gray mage - whom Harry himself named Reverend, because he couldn't find a better word for it - spoke at length about marital fidelity, togetherness, the preservation of good relations between the two families - "Preserving!? Harry thought. "It's better to take care of its creation first..."

At the reverend's words, Fleur and Bill left their parents, stood in front of the table and held each other's hands - this is how they continued to listen to the magician's blessings.

· William Arthur Weasley! - the reverend's voice now rang decisively and loudly. - Do you want to marry the Fleur Delacour shown here, will you love and protect her, for better or worse, in health or in sickness, in prosperity or in poverty, will you be faithful to her until death do you part?

· Yes - came the rock-solid answer right away.

"Poor Bill…!" said the little voice in Harry's head and grinned. Hermione squeezed her hand again, and now Harry looked at her. He returned the look, then they smiled at each other. Hermione was probably thinking the same thing as him.

· Fleur Delacour! Do you want the William Arthur Weasley shown here as your husband, will you love and protect him, for better or for worse, in health or in sickness, in wealth or in poverty, will you be faithful to him until death do you part?

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"Yes," Fleur answered immediately.

· By virtue of the authority granted to me by the British Ministry of Magic, I hereby declare you married - the reverend turned to Bill, who in the meantime slipped the ring prepared on the table onto his spouse's finger. Fleur did the same. "You may kiss the bride," said the old man, and Bill and Fleur sealed their marriage.

The gray wizard pushed the parchment in front of them and handed each of them a pen. The newlywed husband and his bride signed the document and thus officially became married.

The circle then broke up, because the hands that had been locked together released their partner and started clapping, some guests cheered, cheered, whistled, or expressed their joy in some other way. In the inner circle, Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Delacour sniffed softly, and Harry noticed that Hagrid, standing next to him, was also wiping his eyes sensitively.

· Oh, Harry, isn't it wonderful? Hagrid asked. "That Bill was a fine boy, and what a fine man he grew up to be!"

Just like you! he added, slapping Harry on the back causing the boy to head into the back of the tall red haired man in front of him.

· Of course, people come and go, are born, grow up, get married, die... - then he lowered his voice confidentially and leaned close to Harry's ear. "You know, I hope I'll live to see you in the middle of such a circle..." he whispered, then winked.

Harry somersaulted onto his stomach. How is he, getting married!? How could he afford that anyway? He didn't even know when it was customary for wizards to get married. He knew that his parents were not even twenty years old when they took their vows. Suddenly an alarming thought crossed his mind: might he be expected to commit to someone soon? He tried to reassure himself, his parents' marriage was a slightly different situation. There was a war going on and they needed each other. True, according to Mrs. Weasley, the fear of war is also behind Bill and Fleur's wedding. In any case, it is certain that he cannot afford to marry. It would only lead to deadly dangers. He noticed that Hagrid was still grinning at his blushing face.

"You know, Hagrid, I'm more likely to die than get married these days," growled the harsh truth into Hagrid's image, before the grin melted from the giant's face.

· Don't joke about that, Harry! he warned the boy. "It shouldn't be that thing that fills your everyday life, because in the end..."

· Let's leave this topic for now, okay? Harry ended the quiet conversation as he noticed that Hermione had disappeared from his side. - Let's stand further away, because as I can see, the army is marching towards the house.

That was true, the circles broke up and people lined up, the young couple marched in between them, cheered loudly, and Hagrid waved, causing several heads to turn towards him.

Harry dutifully clapped as well, but meanwhile he was looking for Hermione with his head, because he had the unpleasant feeling that she was with Krum. Bill and Fleur left in front of her, followed by the bridesmaids - Harry exchanged a confidential smile with the red-haired bridesmaid -, then came the parents and siblings, followed by other relatives and friends. As soon as the pair left, Ron immediately fell behind and snuggled up to Harry.

· Where is Hermione? he asked immediately, looking very nervous, as he had been all morning.

· I don't know - answered Harry honestly - one moment I was still holding his hand, the next he was gone.

Ron was even more upset by this, for lack of a better word, he ran around the house, and when he couldn't find him anywhere, he and Harry followed the guests into the parlor, where the post-wedding reception was already taking place.

· Tell me what happened? Harry asked his friend when he had satisfied his nervous ignorance.

· I ran to Hermione to tell her that Viktorcica is here - I wanted to see her reaction, but when I opened the door, that worm was already there with her and they were talking intimately! – Ron then angrily slammed down his champagne glass, which Harry still held in his hand as if to calm him down.

Meanwhile, Bill and Fleur accepted the well wishes, which they received from all the guests in turn, some of them even rehearsed. When it was Harry's turn, he planted two kisses on Fleur's cheek, shook Bill's hand and wished them happiness. He was followed by Ron, who managed to force a grin on his face for that five seconds, which slowly turned into a snarl over the next few minutes as he saw Hermione and Krum talking at a table. Nothing could be read on Hermione's face, although Harry was sure that deep down she was either very happy to meet him, or very embarrassed about it - and he also determined that Hermione would be a much better Occlumency than he was.

· What should I do? Should I go there? Ron asked his friend for advice.

· Don't! Harry warned. "You have to trust Hermione!" He didn't go out with Krum last time either, remember? He could have. Krum will go back to Bulgaria tomorrow and stay there! If you rush over there now, you'll only annoy Hermione.

· Yes… you might be right. Let's get something to drink, because I'm going to get hot in here,' he said, leaving for the bar, and Harry, for lack of a better option, followed him.

Apart from minor incidents, the rest of the afternoon was peaceful, after the initial conversations, the feast followed, which consisted of very mouth-watering dishes, and the bride and groom cut the tiered cake, from which each guest got a nice big slice. After the feast, the young couple danced, and the other guests joined in, Harry also pulled out his pitiful dancing skills from the dark, dusty corners of his mind and asked Ginny. They danced through three numbers, including two slow ones, which they both really enjoyed when Ginny

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he was forced to hand his partner over to a very blushing Gabrielle. Laughing at the clumsy waltz with the little girl, Harry joined Ron, who was propping up the counter, picking up his bad habit of refusing to feel comfortable when things didn't go as planned. He didn't want to dance with anyone, even the one who had been nagging him for long minutes

Michelle-the sem.

· Get out of here! - growled Ron when he satisfied the blonde girl's chirping.

The girl must have said something very nasty in French when she left them at the wooden picture, because the man standing not far from them spat his champagne on her robe in surprise.

Krum and Hermione danced in the middle of the floor, Ron looked at them with a dark look, and on one occasion, when Krum's hand slipped a few millimeters lower on the girl's waist, Ron jumped up from Harry, whose quick reflexes managed to catch and hold the boy.

· I will strangle him, tear him to pieces, I swear! Fall in! Ron fumed, and Harry secretly wished Hermione was so ugly that Krum wouldn't care.

Harry shoved Ron back into the chair and pressed a glass of pumpkin juice into his hand - learning from what he had done, he instead tried to calm his friend down with non-alcoholic drinks.

Afternoon passed and evening fell, the kin were busy dancing, talking charms and drinking, Ron quietly raging and Harry murmuring soothing words. He danced with Ginny twice more, but he didn't dare leave his friend alone for too long, for fear of doing something stupid. Harry continued to pour more and more glasses of pumpkin juice into Ron and himself, which ended with both of them having to go to the toilet. There was a small line outside the upstairs washroom, so Harry and Ron ran down to the downstairs restroom. It was just Fred and George, laughing and drinking a bottle of Flametongue whiskey.

· Hello guys! Will you join? Fred showed the half-empty bottle when he saw Harry's. "Thanks, no," Harry refused the offered drink, and they headed for the restroom.

After they were both done they went back to the living room where Fred and George consumed a sizeable amount of whiskey. Harry sat down next to them at the table, and Ron stared out the window into the evening twilight with his hands in his pockets.

· Nice party, huh? George grinned, getting a grin from Harry and a growl from Ron.

· But how much! said Fred, his breath smelling slightly of alcohol. "The atmosphere is so fiery up there that it's not every day!"

· What do you think? Harry asked, unbuttoning his jacket to get comfortable. - Oh, you didn't see it? Fred

continued to grin. - Hagrid will melt when he dances with Madame Maxime. And the moms are really good at it too! They were so good-natured a long time ago... - then his face became gloomy and he continued after a short pause. "Percy couldn't bear to put that stupid picture in here!"

· Mother even sent him an invitation, but he didn't respond to it - George continued instead of his brother.

· Turn around! Fred growled and slammed the empty whiskey bottle down on the table.

Harry hummed sympathetically, refusing to comment on this conversation. He thought it was a bit of a delicate field. But he couldn't have guessed how much more delicately it would continue: - But as I

see, nobody is bothered by such things today - George grinned again. - It's a pleasure to see old acquaintances finding each other...

· Huh! Like Hermione and Viktor Krum? Fred smiled. "Did you see them Harry?" They are like two cooing pigeons…

"Stop it now," Ron said in an ominously low voice, continuing to stare out the window. Harry felt a little uneasy. However, the twins didn't really hear their brother's comment, the alcohol drowned them out.

· I say, Harry, in a few years we might be getting drunk at their wedding! You know what? Hermione might ask you to be her maid of honor, since…

· Shut up! Ron hissed back over his shoulder.

· ...That kid Viktor is really there for our little bookworm! laughed George. - Did you see Fred when they danced? Then Krum knows how to drive such small-minded girls crazy! Hermione blushed as she took the…

· Watermelon head!

Ron yelled his spell twice as he angrily held his wand at his twins. Harry didn't even have time to be surprised, and Fred and George were already wailing and turning from their chairs, with huge pumpkins on their heads, on which, like a Halloween pumpkin lantern, small holes indicated where the eyes and mouth were.

Ron gasped as he stared at the result of his curse, but he didn't show an iota of remorse. When Harry looked at his friend, he saw in his eyes that this act contained all the hurt his brothers had caused him over the years, starting with the worst memory year of his childhood when Fred turned his teddy bear into a spider, to the hurtful neglect he had always been a part of, if you were near them.

Harry, with Ron's help, licked the twins up and dragged them to their room after they had been drugged so they wouldn't hurt themselves or anyone else with their limping. They locked them in the room and headed back

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into the salon, when they noticed footsteps on the stairs. Ron pulled Harry under the cover of one of the cupboards, from where they saw that it was Hermione and Krum approaching. Ron's features hardened as he looked at the pair heading towards the garden.

· Let's go after them! Ron whispered, but his voice was full of anger. "I want to hear what that worm has to say to him..."

· Ron! Harry grabbed his friend by the arm. - Don't be mad, Krum will leave here tomorrow and everything will remain the same...

· Oh, he's going to take Hermione? Not anymore! If you want a kiss goodbye, so be it! I settle in. But if you want to take it with you, you'll regret ever setting foot here!

· Of…

· No! You can't want that either, Harry! If you're up to anything like that, I'll curse you and I don't recommend you try to stop it!

"I won't…" Harry let him and he and Ron sneaked towards the garden after the pair.

It was pitch dark in the garden of the Prewett house, the clouds obscured the stars. Light filtered in from the windows of the house, and the distant murmur of music and the conversation of the host of guests could be heard.

Leaving the house, Ron and Harry immediately saw Hermione and Krum, who were just then sitting down on the cold stone of the stairs leading to the house. The two boys were sneaking up behind them - this was easy for Harry, as he was wearing his magical boots, and these magnificent footwear drowned out the sound of every step, even the crunching and crunching of twigs and leaves. They hid in a bush that was roughly four meters away from the couple sitting on the stairs.

Hermione and Krum were talking quietly.

· I missed you a lot... - Krum's voice was heard. "We haven't met in a long time." I've been waiting for the opportunity to see you again.

Krum paused, Hermione listened.

"What I said at the lake is still true," the boy continued, carefully hugging Hermione with one arm. Harry noticed that Ron was shaking with anger next to him. "I'll never meet a girl as special as you..."

"Viktor, listen," Hermione spoke now, gently lifting Krum's hugging arm from her shoulder, "I like you a lot too, but no... I don't think this will work..."

· Why? I already asked you to come with me, and you said no! Why? How can he stay here in this crazy country where wizards and witches kill each other? We don't have war...

· I know, but...

· Then what's wrong? You don't want to because of Harry?

Hermione suddenly puffed herself up and jumped up from her seat.

· Yes! Because of him! Because it's important to me! he shouted at Krum, who looked at the girl as if she had been punched in the face. Ron grinned in the cover of the bush.

· Do you love me in s-word?

· Oh, come on! That's not what it's about! Even then, you didn't understand that there was nothing between Harry and me…!

· Then what is the reason that you refuse to come with me?

Hermione sighed heavily, but didn't sit back down next to Krum. The boy looked up at him expectantly, with almost pleading eyes.

· I have work to do here - he answered quickly.

· Are you working? In this civil war? Krum asked. Hermione nodded.

"Hermione, muggleborns are being killed in this war... and you..."

· I know what I am! - snapped the girl nervously, and it looked like she was satisfied with the conversation. He was about to leave.

· Wait! Krum said afterwards. "I… I love you."

Hermione stopped and sighed. He seemed to smile faintly as he looked into Krum's pleading eyes.

They looked at each other for a long time, and finally Hermione approached the boy. Krum's mouth trembled as he leaned into her – but Hermione didn't kiss him. He just pressed a kiss on her cheek and pulled away from her.

· I'm sorry... but I don't.

That was all he said to Krum, then he turned his back on him and went back into the house to join the celebrating, merry people, leaving the Bulgarian boy to sit alone on the steps for who knows how long. Harry and Ron both sneaked back into the house, they had seen enough. Harry knew how bad Krum must be feeling right now, but he couldn't feel sorry. He considered that he might have lost Hermione because of the boy, and Ron was completely right. Although he had guessed for a long time that Ron was not driven by friendship alone when it came to the girl, he was sure that he would be able to curse anyone for Hermione.

They never met Viktor Krum again.

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Chapter 7

Dumbledore's Watchful Eye

Ron was in a much better mood in the following days, he was almost unrecognizable. A week had passed since the wedding, and the boy's joy was unclouded. Harry attributed this to several different happy events: on the one hand, the quick departure of the Delacour family - led by the ever-chirping Mrs Delacour -, the fact that Fred and George sauntered into their shop in shame the day after the wedding (now with their old heads on their necks), and the other good news, which took off the following week.

One of these was Fleur's surprise announcement that she had taken a teaching job at Hogwarts. A week after the wedding, the blonde girl - and now a woman - walked into the fireplace and left without a word. She arrived home a few hours later, just before lunch, and then told her husband and the others the news.

· But why, Fleur? Bill asked his young wife. "Maybe you're bored at home?" - Oh, well, never mind

· the blonde girl waved - but I feel like it's better if I make myself useful, then I won't go on a honeymoon. I can't sit on my laurels while you risk your lives! - And tell me, what job did you apply for, Fleur? Ron asked. - Oh, I'm going there like, 'it doesn't

matter what kind of job you get', I would have been happy to apply even as

a teacher's assistant, not for the salary or the main thing, just for fun, 'to love what I do'. But in the end, Madame McGonagall was so kind and entrusted me with a real teaching job. I will teach magical self-defense classes for students!

Harry and Hermione spat out the dandelion juice at the same time, covering the entire table. The others scooted back in fright, and Ron angrily wiped the soda spilled on his pants from his pants, but Harry wasn't bothered by it at all. He looked at Hermione and saw that she was thinking the same thing as him. Teaching magical self-defense is by no means without danger. - Ummm… Fleur! Harry addressed the girl. "Do you know what the predecessor of that

subject was?" - Is it before you?

· Yes. Defense against dark spells. The name of the subject was changed so that the curse would not affect the teachers - because it was cursed. Not a single teacher taught him for more than a year, and some of them left under rather bizarre circumstances...

· Come on, Harry, that's stupid! - interjected Mr. Weasley, who used his wand to remove the dandelion juice stains from the pages of the Morning Prophet he was holding. "It's just a coincidence that those teachers got into trouble, nothing more!" You don't need to look for black magic behind everything, because in the end you'll end up like Scarecrow...

Harry chose not to enlighten Mr. Weasley about the grim truth, but he and his three friends were well aware that Fleur's new job could easily be her last. Harry sincerely hoped that McGonagall knew what he was doing, and he was determined to talk to the headmistress about it at the first opportunity - he didn't know when that would be.

The days passed boringly during the week, fewer and fewer people visited the house, the Order members usually arrived in the evening and left at dawn, the guests had long since left, and Aunt Muriel also regularly got up early to go to the Ministry with Mr. Weasley to work. In the first few days, the four good friends always waited impatiently for the aunt to come back so that they could ask her about her work at the Department of Mysteries, but she was adamant. Either Mrs Weasley had asked for it, or the members of the Order of the Phoenix, but the general view in the house was that nothing was shared with the Harrys. This created a completely new situation for Ron and Ginny, the mysterious Aunt Muriel surprised them too.

After Mr. Weasley, Ron was given the newspaper, who was chewing his lunch boredly as he read the daily news. Harry noticed how pale his friend had suddenly become.

· What is it? Someone we know…? he asked, fearing the worst. Ron shook his head.

· No... no, just... more attacks, no good news. – with that he handed the card to Harry, then got up from the table, thanked him for the delicious food and went up to his room.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other again and then shrugged. Harry also ran through the newspaper, and he had to tell his friend the truth, the newspaper contained all sorts of disturbing news, disappearances, dementor attacks, the appearance of Inferiors, and even a fatal attack on a Muggle-born witch - the according to the investigation, he was killed only because of his origin, and the suspect was a Death Eater named Valter Wildung and two unknown companions. Alongside the newspaper article was Wildung's mugshot, which depicted a slicked-back, black-haired, bearded man with a long gash running from the corner of his mouth to his eye. Harry wondered what other injuries he would sustain by the time this war was over – if it ever was. He shook the ominous thoughts out of his head and finished eating with Hermione and Ginny before finding Ron to get him to play Quidditch together.

Ron agreed, and a few minutes later, the four of them were walking with brooms on their backs towards the garden of Prewett House, to the part where the tall oaks grew, providing a suitable hiding place for the wizards' traditional

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for your game. Harry was paired with Hermione and Ron with Ginny, as was their custom, but Hermione played so terribly that Quidditch ended up being a basic broomstick class specifically for her, which Ginny insisted on doing - though Harry suspected it was just for Hermione's amusement. his misfortunes.

There was an instinctive fear in Hermione, which made her not dare to fly fast, and because of this she could not react properly to the passes - now they were only playing with the quaff and a gurko, which no one was herding, and they did not take the kikes in front, because there were few of them. Harry was of the opinion that the girl should be used to speed first, so Ron undertook to fly with her not without ulterior motives. Hermione clung to Ron's shoulder convulsively as the boy sped up his broom to about two hundred and ventured over the trees with it. Meanwhile, Hermione screamed frantically behind him and demanded that they get off immediately. Thus, the broom course ended quickly and half an hour later they were already on their way back

to Prewett House.

The Harrys' daily activities were characterized by active idleness, which filled their every minute. At least Harry felt like doing nothing with Quidditch and chess, which didn't fill him with nearly as much pleasure as before. However, he secretly hoped that one day there would be days when he would be able to bring joy to his life by chasing the cat or trying hopelessly to beat Ron at wizard chess. On this Sunday afternoon, the three of them sat in Harry's room, as Fleur retired to her room after lunch complaining of a slight headache, and Ginny

nursed her - she could only be persuaded by her mother's orders, because she had not yet developed "sister-in-law feelings" for the blonde girl. However, Mrs. Weasley was almost beside herself with joy, and she announced to the relatives that her grandson would soon be coming to the house. The Harrys preferred to stay out of the commotion, so they isolated themselves.

However, the atmosphere in the intimate room was not completely cloudless either. They had been through three chess parties and countless explosive snaps, but Ron's strange gloom had left its mark on the well-being of his two friends. They had no idea what could be wrong with the boy, but finally Hermione satisfied the grave silence and blurted out: - Ron, would

you finally tell me what's wrong with you? Ron looked at her questioningly.

· Yes for you. You hardly spoke to us all day, you barely ate, not even lunch... which is quite strange for you... Tell me, please, what's wrong with you!

Ron remained silent and Hermione waited for an explanation, as did Harry, but refused to add anything.

She had a feeling that Ron had been like this ever since reading the paper - maybe the bad news had worn him down and scared him? Ron didn't want to answer, he just stared in front of him, and Hermione finally grunted in irritation and turned back to the old Transfiguration book, which she had been buried in until now.

After a few minutes, however, Ron spoke:

"Hermione..." the boy's voice sounded hesitant. "Tell me why…why didn't you go with Krum?"

For a moment Harry thought he had heard wrongly. Hermione also made a surprised face, probably expecting everything but this question. He had already opened his mouth to ask what made Ron do this, when the boy continued: - You know, if... if you had gone abroad with him... then

you could have gotten out of this whole madness, this war. Don't get me wrong, I'm very glad you're here with us, but... but you know what we're up to is life-threatening. And now you would have had a chance to stop all this and…

Ron stopped and looked into her eyes in confusion. He struggled to collect his thoughts and tried to phrase them in a way that wouldn't offend Hermione.

· I was reading the Prophet at noon and... well, they wrote about that Muggle-born witch, and you immediately came to my mind unintentionally... At first I was very angry with Krum for wanting to invite you, because all I could think about was losing him... that we would lose you - Ron paused again here and blushed a little. "But… I think I'd take it easier to not see you again if I knew you were safe somewhere than if something happened…."

…

Hermione didn't let Ron finish what he had to say, that was enough for her. He gently covered the boy's mouth with his hand, and he was so surprised that the word came out. Hermione then hugged Ron and held him close.

Harry watched the peaceful scene in silence.

Hermione and Ron hugged for a minute or so when she pulled away and asked them to sit on the edge of the bed. Both boys stared at Hermione, who seemed to be trying to gather her thoughts for something important to say. Finally, he cleared his throat and agreed.

· I'd be lying if I said this thought didn't cross my mind. I thought that I could really get out of the war, and then I wouldn't have to get involved in life-threatening situations every year... as has become our habit for the past six years, she added with a half-smile. "But… it wouldn't be me." I am who I am because of you. When you first saved me from the troll and we became friends, maybe you don't even know how much everything has changed.

Harry and Ron listened to Hermione in silence, and when she brought up the troll, the red-haired boy hung his head and stared at the floor in confusion. Harry was a little surprised that his friend still felt guilty after all these years

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because it was almost his fault that Hermione fell victim to a bloodthirsty mountain troll. Hermione also noticed the remorseful look on her friend's face as she placed a hand on his shoulder and continued.

· Before, when I went to primary school, in the Muggle world, all my classmates and the children in the neighborhood mocked and laughed at me because of my strange appearance and my obsession with books. And when we were freshmen, the thing that made me shut myself in the bathroom wasn't just bad - it also opened my eyes. After crying myself out and having had enough of self-pity leading nowhere, I opened the toilet door with the determination that it would be time to change myself. Until then, I blamed everyone else for being the way they were, but not myself. I tried my best to please the teachers and my parents, who wanted me to go out, and I think I did a pretty good job of that, but…" Hermione's voice trailed off, but she continued, "…I just forgot to have fun." myself. I decided then that I would relax a little more, even if it was at the expense of studying, because I wanted friends more than anything... And I didn't even know that just five minutes later, I would already have two friends...

Hermione smiled at Harry and Ron, who smiled back at her as they remembered this old memory, the way their friendship had begun. It was a moment that none of them could have guessed would change their lives forever. - I felt it was important to say this before we

leave - Hermione added, then made a thoughtful face and continued after a short pause: - I think that's enough of the emotion for today. There is one more important thing I would like to explain. Something I couldn't tell you about until now.

Hermione paused, Ron and Harry waited in silence for what their friend was going to say.

· There was another reason besides our friendship, why I tried to always be there for you in any dangerous situation, and why I didn't leave you here either. A task that is connected to you.

You must have wondered why I spend so little time with my parents, I only see them for about a month a year, and I can't say that either they or I would take it easy. But I tried to make them understand that I don't just want to spend all my time with my friends, I have to be with them. Our last holiday together, our family togetherness, was four years ago, when we traveled to France.

Since then, I only visit home for a week or two during the summer holidays...

This was not the first time that I could have gotten out of the war... When Viktor asked me during the Trimagus Tusa if I wanted to go with him to Bulgaria, it would have been a chance for me to escape responsibility... but... it wasn't it would have been just a cowardly running away from my task, which at the time was more than a mere desire to prove myself, but I would have felt it as a real betrayal. And stupidity, because...

Hermione bit off the sentence, while the two boys watched intently, Csampas purring at the foot of the bed.

· When the basilisk froze me to stone in our second year, then Harry killed him, and you freed Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, I was the first to be given the mandrake potion - by order of Professor Dumbledore. When I opened my eyes, Madam Pomfrey said that the headmaster was waiting in her room.

He expressed his disapproval that I had to leave the infirmary immediately after I woke up, but he gave me the password and let me out.

In the director's office, the professor said that he had an important task for me, something that only I could properly carry out, no one else. From that moment on, it was my job to watch you, Harry.

Every strange, unusual thing you do, every ominous sign. Ron and I often talked about your dreams, especially when we were in fifth grade - I had quite a lot to do then, you can believe.

Ron, you didn't understand then why I was interested in Harry's dreams - until the night Harry saw your father being attacked by the snake. I couldn't complete my task then, but when I found out what had happened, I left the tap-priest and hurried to Harry's house in Black.

This… this whole surveillance was part of what happened on Privet Drive too – there Mrs Figg followed your every move, sometimes herself, sometimes her cats. This idea also occurred to me, and when we found out Makesz's identity, I realized that I could use Csampás in this as well.

I had to report all such cases to the professor, to him alone and to no one else. I was his watchful eye with which he watched you. He knew how

important they were, but he didn't even tell me why. I think that's true trust, that's what it's like to do Dumbledore's job. We don't understand why, sometimes we protest against him, but in the end it always turns out that he was the only one who saw the situation clearly, like no one else... At least that's what I thought until June...

Harry and Ron gaped at her as she went over the details of her task. If Harry had heard this two years ago, when he had been locked away in the Dursley house for months, he would probably have had a tantrum, but things had changed a lot since then. Harry had long since settled into his honored role, and the thought of being watched from his childhood didn't arouse anger, even though even his best friend was a part of it, it was very shocking to him.

At the same time, he remembered something else – Dumbledore's strange habit of choosing from a wide variety of people to use in the fight against Voldemort, and Harry had to agree that Hermione was more than perfect for this task. "…you have no idea how relentlessly I watched you," the late headmaster's words rang in Harry's ears. So that's what Dumbledore was referring to! He didn't watch it personally.

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but Harry's best friend, almost his brother, whom he sometimes thought of as a caring sister - and now he knew why.

"I could have done with being with my parents more," continued Hermione, because the only task I was given by -P, rofessor Dumbledore was to watch you here at school... But I think it was more than a task for me. It has become a part of my life in the last four years. And I would not only turn my back on you if I left you here now, but also on myself.

They looked at each other in silence for a while, Harry and Ron tried to digest what they had heard, and finally the red-haired boy broke the silence: "I always

knew something was wrong with you," he said with a grin to Hermione, who chuckled and hit a small pillow.

The mood quickly lightened now that both Ron and Hermione had confessed – and just looking at them made Harry feel like he would be able to endure the ordeal that awaited him much more easily. He watched with a grin as Ron threw the pillow back at Hermione, and soon he got one in the face as well. A cheerful pillow fight ensued between the three of them, and five minutes later they were panting, but giggling with a good feeling, like ten-year-olds.

Something wasn't right though, Harry could feel it. Something should not be so. Although they are enjoying the moment here, as long as this war lasts, the threat of Voldemort and the Death Eaters will cast a shadow on their happiness. And such happy moments pass like the others, and are forgotten by the shadows. They don't stay in them, the past doesn't flood them with a feeling of well-being later, because these are poisoned joys. They are depressing, precisely because they only last for a few moments, and after them there is nothing left but a huge, suffocating lord - and the thought that is always there in their head sometimes quietens down, recedes into the background, but never completely disappears. The idea that they would have a job. They would have a task that Dumbledore gave them. And they are fooling around here and trying to enjoy life, in vain.

The smile slowly faded from Harry's face, the giggling stopped.

· I have had enough of this idle waiting! Hermione blurted out. "Let's go!"

· Huh...? When? Ron asked.

· When-when? Now! - he jumped up as if he was already ready to go. "Let's pack and go!" We say goodbye at dinner in the evening and leave at dawn. Then it's the best. Everyone is still sleeping.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, a strange excitement in their eyes. It's already been a week since the wedding, school will start in another week, Ginny will be leaving too... The thought was ringing in Harry's head that it really was time to set off on the certain path that, if luck and all their knowledge accompanied them, gather their courage, maybe they can put an end to this madness.

"Okay," Harry sighed and stood up. "Let's pack."

· Yes, it's time... - Ron also jumped up like a flea and looked very ready for action. "Dinner in about an hour, then we can say goodbye." Can we pack together by then?

· Don't joke! Hermione said, then flicked her wand and all the clothes, shoes, socks, coats, toothbrushes, the invisibility cloak, Harry's magical boots, and all their old school stuff flew into the middle of the room in a big pile.

· Sprinkle these into the Bottomless Bags! I'll be right back, I'll pack too - he slammed the door of the room behind him.

Harry and Ron did as she said. They took out the Bottomless Bag that had been thrown at the bottom of the cupboard and Harry also looked for his birthday present. They threw the objects into them one after the other in a great mess, because they knew that in the magical space of the Bag they would disappear anyway, as if they were not there, and would only reappear if they reached for them through the mouth of the Bag with strong concentration.

A pleasant excitement began to take over Harry more and more, which he found very strange in the current situation.

He knew what awaited him, he knew what they were facing, and he had no idea how he was going to do it. But the how wasn't a problem for Harry. His senses, every part of him, told him that he and his two friends would solve all the problems before them, just as they had done before.

He knew one thing for sure. How his journey, which began three weeks ago when he stepped out the door of the Dursley house, would continue. In the place where everything started for him, where he simultaneously lost everything he had before and gained something completely new. In his parents' old town: Godric's Hollow.

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Chapter 8

Godric's Hollow

The cold wind hit Harry's face as he and his two friends cut through the Prewett estate in the early morning twilight, between the hills and valleys, getting further and further out of the reach of the anti-de-hopping charm that was placed around the house. They had already been walking for ten minutes, left behind them the rise on which the imposing house was built, crossed the magical boundary line - which gave Harry a minor headache, but he was no longer bothered by it and he was alert -, accompanied by owl eyes, they prepared to climb another steep hillside.

Harry couldn't find any peace within himself - which wasn't surprising now. The excitement he had felt since the night before, when he

and Ron and Hermione suddenly decided to leave, continued to increase his heart rate. The excitement was not terrifying, on the contrary, he was happy that he could finally do something.

He had long since gotten over being frightened by the mere weight of a task, his fear now had a much more tangible reason. Harry was aware that his task was not to be afraid, his task was to suppress the fear itself.

As the three good friends had guessed, their decision caused a general deterioration of public mood at headquarters.

When they announced the date of their departure at dinner, which was set for the earliest possible time, four in the morning the next day, everyone present in the house reacted differently. Mrs Weasley, who was carrying the plates and cutlery back to the kitchen, dropped them all when Ron coldly informed her of his departure. Aunt Muriel, who had been reading the Evening Prophet, lowered the newspaper and frowned at Harry's face. Harry quickly turned his head away, suspecting that the aunt was trying to use lemming to find out the reason for their departure.

Ginny was very sad, it could be seen that she would most like to be with them, and at one point in Harry's soul, he longed for the same. The girl hugged all three of them, and this encouraged the others present to do the same. They didn't object, they didn't protest, not even Mrs Weasley. The Harrys said goodbye to the woman, Mr Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Aunt Muriel and Ginny. After saying goodbye, they went up to their rooms, leaving the rest of the family alone. Here they finished packing, checked everything once more to make sure they didn't leave anything important at home, then dressed in Muggle clothes, set the alarm clock for four in the morning, and then went to bed.

Hermione and Ron plopped down on the two beds, and Harry took a nap in a comfortable armchair. The alarm clock woke them up exactly, and their departure went according to plan...

The three good friends reached a sufficient distance from the house and prepared to jump. The night before, they had looked up Godric's Hollow in a car atlas to give them an idea of where to jump. They knew the address of the old Potter house (7 Cormak Street), Harry had already asked Lupin days before, even before their disagreement. Of course, Lupine was not taken lightly, and then he immediately guessed that Harry would like to visit his parents' house. He offered the boy that if he had time and it was safe enough for such a trip, he would take him there. Harry happily agreed, even though deep down he knew he couldn't go with Lupin. He wanted to continue his journey here anyway, he needed this visit. But he decided that if Lupine found a good time, he would come here with him once, just the two of them.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione held each other's hands to make sure they holed up in the same place. They counted to three, like when using a spanner, and by three they could already feel the compression. They arrived in a small town bathed in morning light, in a small deserted street.

· Where are we? Ron asked. "Have we arrived at the right place?"

· Yes, just look at the street name! Hermione pointed to the sign hanging on the wall of the house next to them. "We're in place."

· Which house could it be...?

Harry looked around, checking the houses left and right, but they all seemed intact. Only opposite them was the unkempt hedge and rusty fence. He started towards the fence and looked at the posted house number: seven.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stopped in front of the wrought iron fence, behind which was a huge sea of gas, and behind it, from the street, you could see the roof and chimney of a two-story house. The gate that led to the courtyard swung half-opened in the light wind, and the Harrys noticed that the irons on the two wings were bending like they had been melted, leaving a large hole in the middle that a man could just fit through.

A tall, thin man…

Harry couldn't speak, as if his throat was blocked by something oppressive. He opened the two wings of the gate and entered through it. With each step, his heart beat faster as the events of sixteen years ago played out in his mind. He saw almost in front of himself what had happened that evening, about which he had already found out everything possible, learned everything that his parents' acquaintances, friends and his own subconscious nightmares could help him with. He saw Voldemort approaching the house in his pitch black hood…

He saw him take out his wand and melt the gate, breaking through any spells that might have protected the Potter house.

Past and present met in this place. Together with Voldemort, Harry walked closer and closer to the front door, across the then neatly mowed lawn, which was now overgrown with weeds. His heart pounded in his throat, his forehead became damp,

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his mouth was dry—Harry's from the mournful sadness weighing down his soul like a leaden weight, and Voldemort's from the excitement of the impending murder.

A few more steps and you'll be there... just a meter and you'll see how it all started... you just have to stretch out your arm to open the door...

Victory is near, now you can finally put an end to this pathetic resistance... No one dares to resist the power of Lord Voldemort from now on...

Harry carefully pressed the handle, but the door stubbornly wouldn't open… Could something be blocking it…? Maybe the ruins…

Voldemort grins - a crappy armor charm can't hold him back anymore...–, and his wand to the keyhole

· Alohomora - the thought ripples through his mind, like a gentle breeze among the leaves of a tree... A soft click and the lock turns... The graceful door opens quietly, revealing the beautiful hall...

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry says the spell, though the words come out of his throat shakily.

Creaking and crunching, the wooden beam blocking the door slowly floats away, and the rickety door creaks open...

Voldemort enters grinning - well here he is at last. His predicted enemy has no idea what awaits him… Helpless, pathetic and weak... It will be an easy victory...

Harry's heart raced, his breathing quickened to a gasp as he saw the result of the horrendous destruction and the cruel work of merciless time... The force of nature had reclaimed this once pleasant human home.

Rain, wind, winter frost and summer heat reign everywhere, and the power of plants reigns... The staircase leading to the upper floor is broken, the door leading to the living room is turned out of the frame, it is ravaged by grasses and insects...

Light seeps in from the living room, and you can hear the joyful squeals of a small child as his father carries him around the room in his protective arms... Protective arms... nothing against his power!

A female voice is heard from

inside: - James... didn't you hear something? It was as if the door had opened.

Recognizes the owner of the voice. Evans is…

"I'll take a look..." the man replies, and Voldemort grins.

The living room was the worst... Coal-burnt carpet and parquet, a loud creak with every step, as if the dead house was recalling its last days and sobbing inconsolably, remembering the past happy moments... Harry also tried to remember, but it wasn't so easy for him. The house immediately remembered its old nature as soon as one stepped inside its walls, but one had a hard time recalling what this house must have been like in its heyday.

Only feelings and images remained in Harry, and suddenly a thought shot into his brain - what is he doing here anyway? What did you expect from coming here? Maybe how to defeat Voldemort will be written on the walls in big letters? He felt ridiculous, sentimental... He was about to turn the corner when something made him stop. Once you're here, you want to see it all.

A terrified cry breaks the silence before the murder, James Potter, who has defied Lord Voldemort's will three times. Three defiances, and he's ripe for death a thousand times... There will be no mercy!

· Lily, grab Harry and run! He is! Run! Run away! I'll stop you...

Holding Voldemort's wand lightly in his hand, he pushes the door open and catches a glimpse of them... The woman, whose constant stubborn defiance made him even more angry - but that doesn't matter anymore. Everything he has done so far, every opponent he has defeated so far dwarfs the one whose short death row he will watch in a few minutes... But his father is next in line...

Harry pulled himself together and strode briskly around the living room. Even now, after all these years, the traces of supernatural destruction can be clearly seen. Strangely distorted objects, a low humming that exists almost only in the imagination... As if something had broken.

The room is dead, its cupboards are dead too... they lie scattered, senseless, aimless... their contents scattered on the floor, broken, destroyed, like a breathed soul...

· Adava Kedavra!

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Yes! – Voldemort's head rumbles with the feeling of victory, this all-overwhelming joy that another opponent has lost a battle against him... He won again and will win again after this, because he is the best, the most perfect! After all, all life is a big game, and players must fight to win, to prove their strength...

Voldemort took it that way. Those who are weak will fail... -

Oh my God, James! Not! cried the voice, and Voldemort was pleased to note the mark he was able to leave on people. Someone who has this kind of power over destinies is special, isn't it? he always told himself. "Yes, I'm special..."

With a single murder, he immediately changed three destinies, the lives of three people changed forever, with just two words...

After the living room, Harry headed for the kitchen, where the destruction was complete. And yet, it was less painful than the living room, where death was commemorated by the ruins, the useless objects... There is nothing here to remember... The walls also caved in, the bricks that had fallen everywhere melted like ice cream and turned into a shapeless mass. they were distorted.

The lush vegetation of the garden reclaimed this area as well, and yet Harry felt lifeless. He was not fully aware of why, as he knew very well that the weeds that covered everything were very much alive, flourishing, and growing. Yet, in every single blade of grass, in every leaf, twig and branch, he found brittleness... Perhaps the knowledge that a happy family lived here a long time ago, and should still live now, lent nature the image of destruction and death...

He runs, he escapes, but he doesn't get far from me...! The little lily was cornered... Now it's mine!

The woman crouches on the ground holding her child in her hands, with tears in her eyes. Voldemort looks at the truncated family with a faint smile on his face. He made them so! Power… yes!

· Why are you crying? he asks the woman. "You're alive, you can have another husband, a child, if you wish..." He sobs loudly at the ice-cold words, unable to respond.

"Crying won't get you anywhere, Lily Evans..." Voldemort hisses between his teeth. - I learned this well in my childhood... I didn't even cry much, you can believe. Waste of time... Come on, look at yourself! You break like porcelain from your emotions and you can't do anything against my power. But I will be generous with you... I will let you live if you hand over the child...

The woman protests in horror and shakes her head, as if the man in black robes standing in front of her is just a vision and she can get it out of her head.

· Give me the child! - sounds the heartless command...

· Not Harry, not Harry, please, just not him! - Stand aside... Stand aside, you fool...

· Harry!

· Adava Kedavra!

Death went through its merciless dance, covering everything with its filthy blackness... Destruction everywhere...

Harry stood brooding in the once kitchen. He saw death, saw its results, smelled it, but then he understood something else. Death can only arise where there was life before. Without life there is no death, but without death there is life. This thought occurred to him, and miraculously, he felt much better because he knew that although by now everything that was beautiful and good here had passed for good, it still left a mark. That's why it was worth coming here. Not to see the destroyed house, but to see the complete, beautiful home that still exists in his imagination.

In the past, delicious food was prepared here, James, Lily and Harry could spend happy moments as a trio. Harry didn't remember anything about it, so he lived those months in his imagination. Happy first year of his life. His first birthday, his first gifts... And then he realized something else that helped

him accept what happened here. Destruction, death, everything Voldemort had done in this house was only present in lifeless objects, destroyed furniture, collapsed walls and torn roofs... But there was something here that was much, much stronger and more important than these, something that did not he was referring to the killer, but to the victims: himself, Harry. He was the living proof that the mindless destruction that took place here was only superficial. He extinguished lives, destroyed futures, but he could not erase memories. What survived here left a much bigger mark on people than what perished. Life leaves a bigger mark than death, and Harry needed every mark of it now.

Eternal life! - Voldemort's mind roars triumphantly... He points his wand at Harry, belying his human origin with his movement, forgetting his mother, father, who he could have been. His brilliant mind is surrounded by bloodlust and insanity, as he happily prepares to have his heart broken again and to sacrifice something more of his crumbly humanity - the compassion that he just witnessed in his useless nature. He offered life to the woman, and she refused, even though it made no sense. What a crime, what a senseless waste!

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Here he stands on the threshold of victory, and unwittingly waits to enjoy the moment... He thinks about his own action, the waiting, which is as unreasonable as the woman's choice. What's the point of waiting? To listen to your heart one last time and enjoy the moment? And if Dumbledore comes…? The old rascal can still crush pepper under his nose, so he shouldn't waste time on silly sentimentality. The woman didn't go anywhere with her emotions. Dead, like her husband... Action must be taken!

· Adava Kedavra!

Harry sighed heavily, then put his hands in his pockets and walked closer to one of the melted bricks. What was it like when the curse fell back on Voldemort? Did it also destroy the house around them? And how could he have survived under the ruins? There must have been a huge heat that could have melted the walls… Harry couldn't think of anything other than that his mother's protection protected him from all the destructive forces at that time, including the rubble that was coming down on them.

A mistake slips into the plan, and everything is covered by the green storm, which should only have drawn a small baby into its deadly embrace... The storm sweeps away everything, living and inanimate... Voldemort's wand bursts out with destructive, raging power, cutting apart the kitchen furniture, the floor, the roof. Stones, wood and tiles rain down on him from above, he tries in vain to control the swirling wind and blinding light, which finds him too and begins to mercilessly consume him...slowly...for a long time...

Harry and Voldemort were standing in the middle of the kitchen at different times. They both burned - Harry because of the grief and rage simmering in his soul, Voldemort because of the flames that gnawed at his body, which chewed through skin, flesh, bones, organs... Both died and were reborn. Everything changed, a thousand possible futures became nothing in an instant, and only two others were born in their place...

Hermione and Ron followed Harry through the ruins, both silently looking around at the remains of the house.

· Harry, are you okay? Hermione asked cautiously and put her hand on her friend's shoulder.

Harry wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded quickly. Ron seemed dumbfounded, staring at the melted bricks for lack of words.

· I wanted to see... - began Harry - ...I wanted to see my past so that I could close it once and for all. This was still missing to complete the picture. Now I know what I lost then… and I no longer mourn. That's it.

Harry smiled and hugged his friends before they stumbled out of the ruins together.

After visiting the old Potter house, the three good friends headed for the nearest cafe. All three of them needed some quiet rest to process what they had seen. They ordered three cups of hot coffee and then Hermione paid the waitress in muggle money and left. They headed for the cemetery, and all three of them bought a bouquet of flowers in a flower shop.

The graveyard of Godric's Hollow was a well-kept, peaceful place - as Harry felt, it was hard to find a more peaceful place than a graveyard.

Roughly a hundred meters from the entrance was the row where those who died in 1981 were buried, the Harrys turned in here, and after a few meters they found what they came for: a white tombstone with two names engraved on it.

James Potter 1959 – 1981

Lily Evans Potter 1959 – 1981

Rest in Peace!

Harry, Ron and Hermione took the withered bunch of flowers from the holder and put the three fresh ones in their place. They stood in silence for a few minutes, hands clasped together. Harry felt strange - this tombstone, which only shows names and years, seemed almost foreign to him, he felt that the destroyed house was a much more shocking memory for the deceased and the survivors than this tomb. He was not touched by the simple inscription, because he could not express anything about what these people meant to their friends, relatives, and son.

Something else came to Harry's mind as he looked at the immaculate stone - who is it that regularly tends the grave, cuts the weeds around it and puts flowers in the holder? And as if the cemetery itself was answering his question, at that moment a voice called out to

them.

· Hello!

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A woman with long blond hair was standing in front of them, holding a bag with flowers in it. He smiled friendly and moved closer to the Harrys.

· Did you know them? I only ask because no one has visited this grave in a very long time...

He was wearing a long black jacket and a light blue turtleneck, black fabric pants, and a mobile phone hanging around his neck. Harry immediately recognized that he was dealing with a muggle, no witch could dress so tastefully in muggle clothes, and none of them carried mobile phones.

"We…we were abroad…in Australia," lied Harry. The woman frowned.

· Your pronunciation doesn't sound too Australian... -

Ummm... because our parents are English and their pronunciation stuck with us... - Hermione helped. Harry, Ron, and Hermione grinned in a friendly manner, seeming to support the lie.

· Are you brothers?

"Cousins," Hermione answered.

· Were your relatives the Potters?

· The... were our aunts and uncles.

The woman smiled, then walked to the grave next to Harry and placed a rose on the stone.

· Well, I see that I don't have to take care of the grave anymore, because you are here... - Did you keep it so nicely organized...? Harry asked in amazement.

The woman nodded.

· Thank you... thank you.

· Come on, nothing! - he waved and put his hand in his pocket. "You know, I was their neighbor until… well, until that gas explosion happened… It was horrible."

Harry and his two friends nodded grimly, avoiding each other's eyes, instead staring at their shoes.

· According to the firefighters, the gas was left open at the fireplace and a spark caused the explosion - the woman shook her head doubtfully and sighed. "I don't know what's true about this, but I've never seen a green explosion before, and that house burned green and with such a blinding light that... And it's also strange how suddenly the

investigation ended." I remember it well, you know, I worked as a teacher, and the children were only concerned with this case for weeks. The firefighters were on the scene for barely an hour, only until they took away the two bodies. After the firefighters, special experts who investigate such accidents arrived from London. But they weren't here for more than half an hour and didn't set foot inside the fence.

The house is said to be owned by the state and they are not willing to sell it to anyone... In fact, no one has applied for it so far.

But from time to time some strange figures appear around the house, they just look, but don't go inside. They look at the ruins as if they are witnessing a miracle. Have you seen what was left of it?

Hermione preceded Harry with the answer: - Not yet, but we will look into it.

"Why did he say that?" Harry frowned. He could have easily said that they had already seen the house…

· Good... It won't be a pretty sight... Well, I was glad to meet you! I have to go so hello… "Goodbye..." Harry greeted.

The woman turned the corner, left the line and went towards the exit. Harry and Ron immediately turned to Hermione: - Why did you say we haven't seen the house yet?

· Because we have to go back there - she declared.

· For what? Ron spread his arms. - We came just an hour ago...

· Because we didn't look around properly. According to the lady, no one has been in the house since they took the… so the…

Harry nodded and finished the sentence for dead

bodies. But what should we be looking for there…?

Hermione giggled disapprovingly and began to explain further.

"Remember when you told us what Dumbledore said about Voldemort's Horcruxes?" Hermione didn't even wait for Harry to answer, she continued immediately. "He said he wanted to create the last sixth horcrux by killing you, but he couldn't because of the backfire." If he really wanted to become immortal at that time, then the object from which he would have made the horcrux must still be there. And it might bring us closer to the other horcruxes…

· Hermione, that object was already taken when the flames were extinguished... She shook her head.

· No, not even Dumbledore knew about Horcruxes then, no one would have looked for them at that time. - And

muggles? They could take it too, at any time since the sixteen years! They could go in at night when no one could see and

they could take everything valuable…

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· There is a muggle-warning charm on the house, I read about it in The Rise and Fall of Dark Magic. This concludes the chapter about you. "A muggle-warning charm was placed on the destroyed Potter house so that no one could disturb the peace of the building, which has since commemorated the end of the eleven-year war..." - ...or it could have

burned in the fire... - continued Harry.

· The horcruxes known so far, such as the goblet or the necklace, are all kobold-made, as are most of the jewels of wizards, and they do not burn in the fire. You can only destroy them with magic.

· But the diary is not…

· Do you think Voldemort would have chosen an ordinary object for his last Horcrux? I think it's even more special than the others!

Harry and Ron thought about what they heard and agreed that it would be worth a try. They didn't wait long - they said goodbye to James and Lily, said a prayer and headed back to the house. They crept through the gate unnoticed, so that people wouldn't

notice that they were here for the second time. Harry was greeted by the same sight as in the morning, yet he felt completely different. The nightmares of the past no longer played out over and over in his head, his mind was on something else. First he came here for the past to close it, but now he's here for the future.

"Alright…" Hermione sighed as they stopped in the middle of the living room. "So the horcrux - or what it would have been, could be somewhere around this." It is most likely around the kitchen, because there was the most destruction there, it must have happened there... so it ended there...

Harry and Ron nodded and started towards the sea of gas.

· But we have to check the whole ground floor - the girl continued - so the living room and the garden as well, because the explosion could have blown it away or it could have rolled away. I don't think it would have flown over the fence, because it was in an enclosed area and the lot is quite big... So Ron, you have the garden, I have the living room, Harry, and you comb the kitchen. We have to look for something that is valuable, or that doesn't fit into the furnishings of a house, and above all, it's not a Muggle. It will be best if you collect all items of magical origin. You know, the magic word: Demonstrate…

"We know, Hermione," said the two boys in unison and obediently set off to the designated place.

Harry began to search, using a few weeding curses to cut away most of the weeds to get a better view of the area.

Broken beams and melted pieces of wall lay on the ground. There were also cracked plates, scraps of furniture, a broken wand with a unicorn tuft sticking out of it - Harry thought it might have belonged to his mother at some point and pocketed it. He floated a beam, and under it he saw silver trays and cutlery among the multitude of ants. Some are distorted and crumpled, while others are completely intact. Harry didn't really think he'd find anything worthwhile among them, but he checked them all with the charm just to be sure. None of it was magical.

Harry suddenly remembered Mr. Weasley's words about the properties of magical objects and their recognition.

He unfastened his ancient quartz watch, which he had inherited from Uncle Vernon two years ago, from his left wrist. He felt a little silly as he scanned the kitchen area with his watch like some Muggle treasure hunter. He watched the face of the clock to see when it would go dark, indicating that the magical vibrations had interfered with its operation. He didn't find anything for a long time, but when his hand reached over the crumpled, charred kitchen furniture, he noticed that the numbers on the digital display were converging, and then the dial went completely dark.

He dismantled the furniture with his wand and floated its contents onto the floor. Plates, glasses, spoons, forks, knives, salt and pepper shakers lay in front of him, and he looked at them one by one. However, there was also a very strange object among them, which flew out from under the closed kitchen cupboard in front of Harry, and at first he did not recognize what it was. An object carved from shiny black wood with a metallic weight on one end and a silver carving. Harry frowned as he stared at the perfectly intact object, and after a moment's thought he realized that what he was holding was an ornate seal press used by distinguished families and institutions to mark their official papers. The silver carving was a coat of arms surrounded by squiggly lines patterned with stars - the image of this appeared when it was printed on paper dipped in ink or passed through wax dropped on a leaf.

· Demonstrate! said Harry, pointing at the object with his wand, and the next moment a thick, gray streak of smoke broke out from it, which twisted and formed into the letters: proteus.

· Canceled! Harry said and the letters scattered.

Harry was satisfied. He felt in every gut that he had found what he was looking for. For the most special item among those present. He pocketed the stamper and looked around. Ron and Hermione were still searching through the ruins and the plants, so he continued his search, but he felt that it was unnecessary.

· Well, what did you find? Hermione asked when they gathered in the living room an hour later. - I only found

these... - Ron said brokenly and showed the two objects in his hand: a broken broom and a magic mirror. None of them seemed special or valuable.

"Well that's not much," Hermione snarled.

· Harry, what did you find? Ron asked.

"I found this one, which is magical," he showed the seal press, the sunlight glinting on its silver crest. - It has the proteus charm...

· Which one is it?

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· With the help of the proteus charm, we can magically connect certain objects, which from then on can transmit information to each other - said Hermione. "I've done it before, with the galleons for DS training, remember?" If Harry changed the numbers on one, the others also changed and lit up…

"That was a nice little charm," remarked Ron.

"Thank you..." Hermione smiled and took the object from Harry. "It's like a…" "…a seal

press," Harry finished the sentence for his friend. "I saw this in the Black house when we were clearing out the study."

"Many wizarding families have sealers, Harry…" said Ron. - Maybe it was the Potters. Harry shook his head, then took the magical item back and pointed to the bottom.

· Look, Ron! There are stars at the bottom... It was characteristic of the Blacks that they named themselves after stars. Sirius, Regulus, Andromeda, Bellatrix... - And the symbol of the

Potter family was the deer, not the stars, said Hermione with a smile.

· What...? How do you know that? Ron wondered.

Hermione's smile grew even wider and she held up the box in her hand.

· I found this in the living room, under one of the cupboards. A jewelry box. It has photos of your father and mother. And on top...

· ...the deer! Harry stared wide-eyed at the box, the

gilded lid of which was carefully carved with the outlines of a deer in a coat of arms.

Harry opened the box and flipped through the photos. They were happy memories, of everyday life, trips, even before Harry was born.

"It doesn't have magical properties, but I thought you might be interested," said Hermione. "Thank you…" Harry muttered.

Hermione then showed the other magical items she had found, which included a candle holder in the shape of a dragon and a Death Eater's mask.

· Do you know who wore such a mask? Ron asked.

· Voldemort, Ron. "You don't know," Hermione corrected. Ron blushed and mumbled something unintelligible. "And I don't know how he wore that…Harry?"

· I don't think so. He's not wearing a mask now either. His people all dress the same, he is the only one who stands out among them...

"I guessed..." Hermione nodded. "But then that means Voldemort wasn't alone when he killed your parents."

· Who could he be with? "You've never talked about this before..." Harry asked.

· I don't know. Maybe the Lestranges, and Kupor... - suggested Ron. - They went looking for him.

"Maybe..." Hermione shrugged and put the compositions into one of the Bottomless Bags. "I think we can agree that the sealer is the most suspicious."

Harry and Ron nodded in agreement.

· But what about the Blacks...? Ron frowned.

· I said because of the stars...

· I didn't mean that! the boy snapped. "Why would he choose Vo.. vo... khmm..." Ron blushed again and took a deep breath. "Voldemort!"

Harry and Hermione grinned, but Ron continued immediately, smiling a little himself.

· Why did you choose one of the Black family cats? Harry shrugged.

· I don't know... the Black family is quite ancient. Maybe they have a connection with one of the founders… say Hollóhát. Ron shook his head in confusion.

· Blacks are Slytherins. If they were descendants of Hedvig Hollóháti, they would go to her house, wouldn't they? Like Tom Denem... -

Ummm... Tonks was a Ravenclaw too, wasn't she?

"But, he told me once..." Hermione's eyes lit up. - And the relationship between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw houses has always been milder than with the other houses. They get along quite well sometimes... So there might be something to this.

Harry pocketed the sealer and clapped his hands together as if he had done his job well.

· Then I think it's clear what we have to do - he smiled and put the Bottomless Bag on his back. "To the old headquarters!"

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Chapter 9

RAB

· Traitors! Traitors, traitors and bloodsuckers! Filthy treacherous scumbag! How dare you soil this house with your dirty feet?!

The obscene yelling and angry shouting came from a large, lifelike painting of Mrs Black, the mother of Harry's godfather, Sirius. This angry painting hung on the wall in the hall of the Black family's huge, stately mansion, and as soon as the Harrys entered the house and carelessly slammed the door behind them, the draped painting awoke and immediately shook.

· Ron, come and help…! Harry moaned to his friend as he tried with all his might to pull back the curtain covering the now deafeningly screeching portrait. The painting stubbornly resisted, but eventually Harry and Ron used their combined power to cover the image, which stopped the noise.

Now, with careful, quiet steps, they went back to the house's kitchen, which opened from the front room. House Black has changed a bit since the Order of the Phoenix moved out. Finger-thick dust sat on the equipment, traces of every step on the floor were visible, and it was immediately established that no one had been here for months.

Despite the cleaning campaign carried out two years before, the house was retaken by the scoundrels. The repaired wallpaper began to

peel off the walls again, the floor creaked, and a barely audible noise indicated that the pests had also moved back into the noble Black house.

Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the kitchen and began to pack the contents of the Bottomless Bags onto the large table. Ron swept aside a pile of tools, which were lying in a mess in a leather bag that took up a quarter of the table.

· Huh! Dad left the mechanic's stuff here - Ron shook his head.

"Put it in the Bag so you can give it back to him next time," suggested Hermione, and Ron did so with a shrug.

· It's been a long time since he had a chance to deal with his hobby - the boy sighed sadly. "He used to spend hours fixing things in the garage, he loved muggle things..."

Harry smiled as he remembered the flying Ford Anglia and the adventures they had with it. Meanwhile, he rummaged through the Bag and concentrated hard on a toothbrush, which immediately appeared in his hand, and then Harry placed it on the table next to his other belongings.

· When our brothers were at school and Ginny and I were at home, we often spent the whole day in the garage with dad, watching him have accidents with the car...

Hermione folded one of the empty magic bags and placed it on a chair.

· Hasn't your father looked for his car since he got lost in the woods? Hermione asked.

· But, he was looking for… - Ron frowned. - So Dumbledore offered him to find him, because the forest is dangerous and all. But he said he only found pieces of it because the spiders tore it apart in their rage after saving us. So that's it...

· Too bad, I loved it! Harry grinned.

The two boys finished packing and placed their belongings in three piles on the table.

· Umf... I'm hungry! - complained Ron, and as if supporting him, his stomach grumbled hugely.

· Do we have anything to eat? Harry turned hopefully to Hermione.

· It's lucky that someone thought of that! she smiled. - We have everything here... let's see: cans, cans and cans, bread, onions, a bag of potatoes - these bags are really good, I have no idea how we would have solved the packing without them... - there are also two sticks of pepper salami and some apples . That's it... enough for a day or two, but it wouldn't hurt to go shopping soon.

· That's worth it! Let's eat! Ron clapped his hands together, then conjured plates and knives.

· That was nice Ron! Hermione congratulated her friend.

"I'm in good shape today," the boy said proudly, then winked at Hermione.

All three of them were very hungry, and by the time they finished eating half an hour later, Hermione realized that the former's estimate was very hasty, they should fall in love with shopping much sooner.

After dinner, they conjured up goblets and opened a bottle of butterbeer.

· So - said Ron after downing half a glass of drink with gusto - now that we're here, what exactly are we going to do?

Harry, sort of perked up, pulled the sealer out of his pocket and turned it thoughtfully between his fingers. Hermione watched in silence.

"I think we should look for something to prove that this seal once belonged to the Blacks…" Harry said. - If I guess correctly, and the Blacks are descendants of one of the founders, then our possibilities are narrowing.

· Why?

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· Because according to Dumbledore, Voldemort still has four Horcruxes intact, one of them is Nagini, the snake - I would like to leave this one for last, because it is where Voldemort is. The other is Hugrabug's goblet, which I have no idea where to look for. The third Slytherin's locket, which was already stolen by someone before us. He says he wanted to destroy it, but I'd better make sure.

According to Dumbledore, the fourth horcrux is either Hedvig Ravenclaw or one of Godrik Gryffindor's old belongings. If it turned out that this seal press belonged to one of them, then we would only have to focus our search on the other one, because Voldemort's goal was to get something from each of the founders.

· What can be considered as such relics? Ron asked. Now Hermione answered for Harry.

· I thought about this quite a lot during the summer, I ran through some books about the founders, in which they mention various subjects.

Not much remains of Ravenclaw. She was a very classy witch and most of her belongings were clothes and jewelry, but most of them were destroyed or lost. There is nothing in Hogwarts that can be attributed to him and his bloodline is also widespread because he had many, many children. The only thing I can think of is a statue that he supposedly carved himself out of solid granite and is currently standing at the very end of Absól út, in the middle of El tér...

· Then it's off! Ron stated.

· Why? she raised her eyebrows.

· I don't think that Vol... that V-Voldemort would place his horcrux in the center of a square. He also hid the locket in such a way that it was hardly possible to find it!

Hermione stared thoughtfully before her, then suddenly raised her head.

· This fits the picture though! he said with a smile. "If you're really, really hiding something, don't hide it, make it public!" No one would think that it was the one to hide.

Harry and Ron shrugged.

"Okay, we'll look into it..." Harry acknowledged. - And Godrik Gryffindor?

· In Gryffindor, there are more things to consider, for example the sword - although it is unlikely that it is a horcrux, because it was always hanging in Dumbledore's room, but maybe Voldemort had access to it at some point, unnoticed.

In any case, we will have to examine this as well, if we have the opportunity. There is also an ancient book of spells written by Gryffindor, but it was lost centuries ago - but it is possible that Voldemort has tracked it down... and... and it is also possible the Gryffindor...

· What?! The hat? Harry and Ron both looked up in surprise.

· Yes, the Teszlek Hat was also Gryffindor's a long time ago, he enchanted it, he even weaves it into his rhymes sometimes

· Hermione shook her head worriedly. "But I don't know if that's possible." There are worrying signs that point to it, but there are also a lot of things against it.

· We are listening! Harry said, shocked at this assumption. Ron also listened to the girl with his mouth open and couldn't decide if Hermione's idea was ridiculous nonsense or a terrifying suspicion.

· You know - Hermione cut in - the Hat was made when Malazar Slytherin left school. It seemed then that this was the end

of Hogwarts, and perhaps Slytherin himself wanted it, but it was Gryffindor who ensured the survival of the school by creating the Hat. That wouldn't bother Slytherin's successor, would it?

Harry and Ron nodded, then Harry interjected: - Yes, but that's not enough...

· Wait, I'll say more - the girl blurted out. "Before Voldemort's power began to grow, the Slytherin house was a respected and distinguished house, where every parent was happy to send their child to..." Ron snorted contemptuously here. "Yes, that's right!" But after Voldemort finished his studies, something happened. The Slytherin house fell, and despite the fact that they won the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup many times, the image of the students changed a lot... Since then, the view has spread that most dark wizards come from Slytherin.

· And what are you trying to get at with this? Harry asked.

· Hermione continued - that Voldemort might have turned the Hat into a horcrux, in order to send those to the Slytherin house that Voldemort could later use to achieve his goals. Just think about it: the Hat's most special magical property is that it sees into the students' souls and tells them who belongs where.

If he finds a student with the inclination to serve Voldemort as an adult, he sends them to Slytherin. It's… it's like Voldemort gathering those he wants to use. And once they're in one place, they're easy to manipulate with the right teacher, like… like, say, Snape…

Ron shook his head in protest.

· This is just a guess - the boy objected -, there is nothing to support…

· As a matter of fact, I have two examples - she continued. "Pettigrew and you Harry."

· Me?

· Yes. You told us that the Hat first wanted to send you to Slytherin... Harry quickly interjected:

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"No, Hermione, it was because he sensed Voldemort's power in me, which he passed on to me as the matchmaking ability..."

· Harry, the task of the Hat is not to send people on the basis of abilities - that is, that is not its task, that's what I'm talking about - Hermione slammed the table in irritation. - According to the traditions and traditions that characterize each house, Gryffindor goes to the brave, Ravenclaw goes to those who want knowledge, Hufflepuff goes to the diligent and pure-hearted, and Slytherin goes to proud students who want great magic power and power... These are spiritual qualities, you understand. ?

The ideas characteristic of a Slytherin are not bad in themselves either - ambition, power, pride, these are not necessarily evil qualities, because the power that one desires can be used for good things. If ten students are placed in Slytherin in one year, there are a total of seventy in the seven years. It is out of the question that all seventy students who want power will be black magicians... And the problem is that they are. I know because I went after him. All of

the Slytherins, without exception, support Voldemort. Not all of them openly, but at least none of them are against what the Death Eaters are doing. This cannot be explained by anything other than someone influencing who gets into the Slytherin house.

When the Hat wanted to send you to Slytherin, it should have taken into account where your heart was going.

· But I ended up in Gryffindor! Harry spread his arms. "When I asked him, he listened to me..."

"Yes, except you shouldn't have thought about the decision for a second," Hermione continued fiercely. - He should have felt right away that you didn't belong in Slytherin, because you were loathe to end up in the house that Voldemort was in. Yet he only sent you to Gryffindor when you asked him to! Süveg usually discusses the choice between two houses when the student has characteristics characteristic of both houses. But if the student clearly objects to one of them, the decision should not wait for a moment!

· In other words, the Hat wanted to send me to Slytherin because he thought I could be useful to Voldemort? "Of course you could have been useful to him, just as you were useful to Dumbledore!"

Harry listened. He tried to accurately recall the events of six years before, his first evening at Hogwarts, the Assignment Ceremony, the words of the Hat of Teszlek. "Not to Slytherin? Have you thought it through? You could take it to a lot there. The basics are in your head, and Slytherin would help you achieve your goal…"

Harry's face darkened as the memories flashed through his mind. He had never listened to the words of the Hat like this, he had never seen them from such a perspective. Until now, he had always thought that Süveg wanted to send him to Slytherin because of his desire to prove that he would be able to use his talent there among students with similar ambitions. But Harry had never been ambitious.

When he entered the gates of Hogwarts, he had no particular desires. He just wanted friends and not to look too stupid compared to his peers for not even having heard of the wizarding world. His desire to prove himself came from this, and Süveg should have seen this, since it filled all his thoughts at the time.

Ron suddenly cleared his throat, bringing Harry back to the present.

· Khmm… You mentioned Pettigrew too.

Hermione nodded profusely and began another explanation: - Pettigrew is another

good example of how the Hat tends to make wrong decisions. We know what Wormtail did, and with this act he proved that he did not belong in Gryffindor in any way. Not in the raven back, since he was a bad student during his student years, and not in the huddle bag, because as I know from Lupin, he wasn't very honest either. He should definitely have been a Slytherin, if for no other reason than that he was golden-blooded.

But the Hat still didn't send him there, because maybe he saw that he didn't have the spark of great magical power in him, and therefore he couldn't be useful to Voldemort.

· Wait, Hermione! said Ron again. "However, among the Slytherin students there are those who are not exactly famous for their excessive intelligence."

· Yes, there are, but they are definitely committed to death eaters like Crak, Monstro, Nott and a few others. But Peter Pettigrew wasn't on their side when he was at Hogwarts, he didn't hate Muggles or half-bloods or traitors. He also liked Sirius, for example…

· Yes, he really liked it, I can tell...! Harry roared.

· Harry, Peter was indeed their friend. I emphasize, it was. Only he never had the courage to stand up to the stronger ones. He believed that Voldemort would surely win the war, and he definitely wanted to stay alive. You said yourself that Pettigrew is almost disgusted by Voldemort, afraid to touch him, afraid to look him in the eye...

Harry sighed and confirmed Hermione's truth again.

· So the Hat sends people who are talented or very devoted to Voldemort to Slytherin.

· Or both - she nodded.

· But... but there's still something I don't understand! Ron moaned and ran a hand through his hair. "If the Hat is working for Voldemort, so to speak, why did he weave in his rhymes the warning that danger is lurking?" Why did you call on the students to unite?

Hermione's answer was ready.

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· There are two options, Ron. Or because if the Hat really fulfills the will of the horcrux and Voldemort, it must keep its incognito. Half- Headless Nick also mentioned that the Helmet often warned the students when there was a war, or a goblin rebellion, or any other danger. It was a tradition for him. If he deviated from this habit now, he would, if nothing else, attract the attention of Dumbledore, who would surely have seen what was wrong with the Hat.

Another possibility is that the Hat is a horcrux like the snake. In other words, it is based on an already existing personality

Voldemort's, which does not control him all the time, but only in certain cases... The Hat already had four personalities, and in order for it

to continue to perform its task without appearing, Voldemort's soul must not have full influence over it... maybe the Hat itself does not know about it that he is a horcrux. It would also explain why he helped Harry when he fought the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

That was enough for the two boys, Hermione answered all their questions. Harry finished his drink and turned to her: - Then I think we should

look into the Hat. There's just one big problem…

· What is it? Hermione frowned.

· If the Hat really is a horcrux and… we really have to destroy it… then it means that Hogwarts will never be the same again. The house system is over, the traditions are over... Because we can no longer transfer the spirit of the four founders into another bottle.

Hermione rested her head on the table and took a sip from the pumpkin. He didn't answer, but his silence contained all his doubts: can we destroy Hogwarts to end the war?

The following days passed uneventfully in the Black house. Because the old headquarters was huge, it took a long time to search every room, every object, furniture, document, picture - whatever was left from the destruction of Sirius and the looting of Mundungus.

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned the house upside down from the basement to the attic, again fighting the pest dox, who tried to injure the three good friends with their poisonous fangs when they disturbed their nest behind the curtains of the great bedroom, but Hermione successfully paralyzed them all. Ron looked through the mostly untouched bedrooms, Hermione searched the ransacked and ransacked study for any documents that remained, and Harry took care of the rest of the room.

Six days have passed since their arrival and September has arrived. The weather was still crap, faithfully reflecting the mood in Harry's soul. This is the first September in six years that he will not be spending at Hogwarts. On this day, classes started at school, Ginny became a sixth year, Fleur teaches students, Lumpsluck became the head teacher of the Slytherin house again, McGonagall took the headmaster's chair and gave her first opening speech. Harry really wanted to be there and he was sure Ron and Hermione felt the same way.

I wonder how many have returned to Hogwarts? How many empty chairs are there at the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw table?

For some reason he had the feeling that the Slytherins were all there to further their education – Harry felt a renewed anger every time he thought about them. And at the same time, he knew that there was no need to be angry with them, others deserved much more to be the target of his anger. The cheering faces of his enemies always brought him back from his silent reverie and directed his attention to more important tasks. True, a few minutes later he found himself thinking about Hogwarts again. How much better it would be if his biggest worries were still only exams, Quidditch and Slytherin teasing!

His two friends went shopping this morning, the third time since they had been here. As a precaution, they went to Muggle stores to buy the necessary things, avoided the wizarding world, and on Hermione's advice, Harry stayed at home to look after the house. According to the girl, she does not have to leave the house unnecessarily. Harry had long since gotten over feeling this kind of caution was hurtful, and he knew from experience that Hermione was always right in these matters.

While his friends were out of the house, Harry didn't steal the day either: he looked at the furniture and paintings in the drawing room to see if he could find any marks similar to the one on the bottom of the stamp press. For some reason, he hoped he'd find an abundance of stars when he came to House Black, confirming that the sealer belonged to this family, and then all he had to do was identify the coat of arms and maybe find out if it belonged to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor- it has to do with family.

According to Hermione, Hedvig Hollóháti's family tree is very diverse and difficult to follow. But the Black dynasty is known to have an ancient family tree that goes back to the Middle Ages, and maybe they will be able to get answers to that... Harry also walked over to the old tapestry, which was attached to the wall of the drawing room, and next to it stood a shiny knight's armor leaning carelessly against the wall; – "apparently Mundungus didn't need that," Harry snarled.

There were holes in the tapestry in several places - the names of those who were considered traitors according to the pro-purity Black tradition, such as Sirius or Andromeda, who married a Muggle-born wizard, Ted Tonks...

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"Poor Sirius," sighed Harry, recalling the happy moments spent at headquarters with his godfather.

The happy memories helped him recover from grief, which unfortunately he already had a lot of experience with.

He also remembered when Sirius talked about his family, his relatives, whom he did not consider as such. Most wizarding families are related to each other, and the Malfoy, Lestrange, Meliflua, Prewett, and Weasley families were also related to the Blacks, although the latter two were not included in the tapestry because they were all considered traitors. Were the Potters also related to the Blacks? Sirius never said…

His eyes wandered back to the hole that marked Sirius and suddenly an interesting idea came to his mind. This house is his now, like it or not, it's all that's left of Sirius - so why shouldn't he shape it to his liking?

He pointed his wand at the drapery and concentrated on the Reparo charm. In the next moment, Sirius's name, date of birth, and now the sad time of his death reappeared on the tapestry: June 14, 1996.

Harry repaired the other damages one by one, the names of Uncle Alphard and his daughter, Andromeda Black, reappeared on the tapestry, and Harry displayed Ted Tonks and their daughter Nymphadora on it out of sheer diligence.

The date was off for the two of them because Harry didn't know when they were born. They were followed by a few more relatives, such as Aurora Black, who was cruelly removed from the tapestry after her death in 1981, and the familiar-sounding name of Valter Wildung, who was overwritten with red ink instead of the usual burnout. The rest of the restored names were much older, ones that had been banished from the dynasty over the centuries. However, Harry didn't remove the names of the obnoxious relatives because he knew what they didn't: the fact that he didn't know about them made them very real. There is no need to deceive yourself that you are surrounded by only good people. So Sirius' killer, Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, who made Ginny's first year at Hogwarts almost her last, and Draco Malfoy, who let the Death Eaters into the school to kill Dumbledore, remained on the carpet.

Harry had a strange feeling as he looked at the repaired family tree. Both friend and enemy could fit in it peacefully, the names were

just names, they did not reveal anything about their bearer. It was as if there was no war at all, as if relatives were not facing each other, waiting for when they could stick a stick to the throat of their mother, father, child, cousin, or brother...

How many families Voldemort had torn apart! He spared no one and nothing. If anyone resisted him, they died - like Sirius. But he didn't appreciate those who stood by him either. He dealt with them mercilessly when he felt like it, as he did with Sirius' brother Regulus.

Regulus. Regulus…

· What?! Harry exclaimed as the realization hit him like an arrow.

Regulus Alphard Black (1961 – 1980)

· This can't be true! I found it! – Harry jumped up in the air in joy, and then read the inscription and the year about ten more times to make sure everything matched.

· RAB, it's him, yes! It must be him!

He knew of Regulus that he had joined the Death Eaters, and his parents were very proud of him fighting for the Goldenbloods to come to power on Voldemort's side. And it was also said that Regulus later wanted to quit the group when he found out what was expected of him. But he could only hide for a few days because his companions found him and killed him.

Harry was now able to fit the fake Horcrux and what was written in the RAB letter into the story. The writer of the letter was sure he would be dead in a few days, and that's what happened to Regulus after he quit. He must have found out the location of the horcrux somehow, found it and taken it… but that only led Harry to more questions: only two people could steal the locket, a powerful wizard and a weak wizard. Who could it be? Perhaps a novice Death Eater, or some relative who was close to Regulus but equally afraid of Voldemort? The first person that came to his mind was Pettigrew, but he quickly dismissed it because he knew that Wormtail was following his lordship's orders at the time, he would have been too cowardly to fight him even if he did it secretly…

He thought of more names as he made his way down the stairs, but he wasn't sure of anything—he knew even less about the other Death Eaters than he did about Regulus. But that didn't discourage him one bit, as he finally found the mysterious rebel, their unknown helper. Harry ran down to the kitchen, lit a fire in the fireplace with a wave of his wand, and then threw a handful of hop powder into the flames. He knelt down in front of the fireplace and stuck his head into the fire without saying a word.

· Prewett house! Harry said, his head spinning immediately.

He closed his eyes to stop himself from feeling dizzy, and when he opened them again, he saw the image of the living room of the new headquarters.

· Mrs. Weasley! Mrs. Weasley! Harry called out to the woman sitting on the couch.

Mrs Weasley turned her head in the direction of the sound and when she saw Harry's head in the fire she squealed and ran to the fireplace.

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· Oh, Harry, is that you?! Are you okay? Is everything okay?

"Don't worry Mrs. Weasley, everything is fine," Harry reassured the woman who was wringing her hand with a smile. "Ron and Hermione are fine, they're shopping now." We are here at Szipák's mother's house. "Er… I see," Mrs. Weasley nodded. "And why did you come?"

· It would be very important for me to talk to Lupin, or Mordon… but it would be better if Lupin wasn't busy. Would you give it to him to find me?

Mrs Weasley arca felderült.

· You don't need that, Remus is here, I'll tell him already. He is upstairs in the study with Muriel and Arthur.

With that he stood up and hurried towards the stairwell. Harry waited a good five minutes and his knees were starting to ache when Remus Lupin appeared in front of the fireplace.

· I'm here Harry. Is everything ok? Didn't you get attacked? he asked with a nervous expression.

· Why does everyone think that we need to be saved all the time? Harry asked back with feigned irritation, but then immediately smiled. Remus' gloomy face softened somewhat.

· I want to ask something important, if you don't mind me now...

· You're not bothering me, just say it! - answered the man immediately.

"I want you to tell me everything you can about Regulus Black.

Lupine made a slightly surprised face and was on the tip of his tongue to ask why Harry was interested, but the boy's serious look stopped him. - Um... I don't know much

about Regulus, I rarely talked to him. He was in Slytherin, three years below us, and made a lot of friends with the later Death Eaters. He was never a leading spirit, rather he just followed the others at school, which is why he ended up among Voldemort's men.

Lupine said that much at first, but that wasn't enough for Harry, he continued to question his former teacher. - And when the war was going on, did you fight with him?

Lupine frowned and tried to remember.

· No… not really. I saw it once after Hogwarts, with Bellatrix Lestrange, but then we just observed them, we didn't fight them... I don't remember anything else. Oh, and I saw his body brought into St. Mungo's. I was also there at the time because I was being treated for a nasty injury...

Harry nodded and digested what he heard.

· Where did he die and how? he asked quickly.

· Found it at the Black house. They faked an accident to make it look like she fell down the stairs and broke her neck. But we knew that the Death Eaters killed him because we had contacts who told us…

· Why was it set up as an accident? Harry raised an eyebrow. - For example, the Dark Mark was hovering over Karkarov!

· Because the Black family was an important supporter of their cause. Voldemort didn't want to lose their support by killing their son. Of course, we tried to enlighten his father and mother, but they didn't listen. You know what Mrs Black is like…" added Lupine with a half-smile.

· What did Regulus do as a Death Eater? Harry inquired further.

Lupine's face darkened a little and he only answered after a few seconds of pause.

· I know of only one case in which he was involved… Voldemort tasked him with some of his companions to kill an enemy to prove his loyalty. Regulus only learned on the spot that their target was his own niece Andromeda and her family.

· Tonks' mother? Harry was shocked. Lupine nodded grimly. - And...

and what happened? - he continued to ask, fearing the answer in advance.

· To Regulus's apologies, he tried to fight back, but... he wasn't allowed. Bellatrix was there with her, to whom Andromeda was a real sister, and she was the one who insisted the most on killing the Tonks family.

Their plan went awry because the Order expected it and Dedalus Diggle and the Prewetts were on the scene helping Tonks. Three people died that night. The Muggle mother of a Death Eater, Ted Tonks, and… little Lyra… Tonks' youngest daughter.

· Nymphadora's sister? Harry was horrified. Lupine nodded again.

· Killed by Regulus… by accident. One of the curses hit the baby's cradle, causing it to burst into flames. They couldn't save him anymore… Regulus and Bellatrix ran away.

Regulus' body was found shortly after. Maybe he had a lot going on and wanted to get out, but he wasn't allowed. This is how he atoned for his sin.

Harry listened. He was almost ashamed that he had thought of Regulus as a helper just moments before. Although his mind still knew that the former Death Eater had helped them and wanted to see Voldemort dead, he could no longer think of him as a repentant good man.

Lupine gave a worried sigh.

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· Can you tell me why you were curious about Regulus?

Harry looked at Lupin again, thoughts racing through his mind. He wanted to tell her everything, but Dumbledore's order was clear and still bound him.

"I'll tell you someday, I promise," he finally answered. "But I can't yet." And… and I hope you'll forgive me, but I have to ask for your help again.

"I'm listening," said Lupine, and Harry was pleased to note that there was no reproach or impatience on the man's face.

"I am asking you to find Mundungus Fletcher and bring him here as soon as you can.

It would be very important for me to talk to him. He was the one who took the treasures of House Black… tell him I'm not mad at him anymore, but he has to help.

Lupine nodded.

· It's okay, I'll find Dung, but it won't be easy. He left the Order after being released from Azkaban. Don't worry, I'll find it.

Harry smiled gratefully.

· Thank you. I have to go, I hear the Rons have come from shopping. Give the others our greetings!

· I'll give it to you. Take care of yourself!

With that, Harry and Lupine said their goodbyes and broke off, Harry's head returning to the Black House living room.

Ron and Hermione listened in astonishment to Harry's account of his discovery and what he had heard from Lupin. Of the three of them, Hermione was the one who was most overwhelmed by the realization.

· Of course! How could I forget? she lamented. - It was right in front of our noses the whole time and we didn't even notice it!

The next few days were uneventful, the Harrys had pretty much given up on any investigation and waited patiently for Lupin. Harry was not idle, he started cleaning the mansion again, with Ron and Hermione helping him. They fixed the damaged wallpaper, and in some places even repainted it to their liking - especially the painting with a poisonous green snake pattern was changed to a red-gold color. Harry laughed to himself at this point, wondering what sort of insults Mrs Black's portrait would throw at him if he saw what was being done to the large bedroom upstairs, the drawing room and the hallway.

He made further repairs to the tapestry, displayed the name of little Lyra Tonks on it and, with the help of Ron, added the names Prewett and Weasley to the family tree. For this, the tapestry had to be stretched first, since about fifty more names were added, for which there was not enough space. However, Hermione used a great charm to weave two meters of fabric into it in no time, and the family tree thus grew to a respectable size.

Lupine's letter arrived after four days, interestingly enough - not with the usual owl post, but while Harry was having lunch, the kitchen flames turned green, and the next moment an envelope fell out of them.

Dear Harry!

I found Mundungus and got him to help me. If all goes well, we will arrive at ten tomorrow morning. Until then, take care! Hello Ron and Hermione.

Lupin

The Harrys eagerly awaited their arrival, as they expected a lot from this meeting: they hoped to find the stolen Horcrux, which would bring them one step closer to defeating Voldemort.

On Friday morning, three minutes before ten o'clock, the bell rang, and Harry was already running to let in Lupin and Mundungus, soaked to the skin from the rain. The two men made their way through the hall to the kitchen amid Mrs Black's screams while Ron and Hermione quieted down the painting.

The greetings and handshakes only took place in the kitchen, and then all five took their seats at the table.

Harry noticed that Mundungus, with short legs and brown hair, was trying to stay as far away from him as possible - their handshake only lasted a moment and he was already on the other side of the table. Harry suspected that the memory of their last meeting was still vivid in Mundungus, when the boy noticed that the man was trading in things stolen from Sirius's house, and in a sudden rage Harry pushed him against the wall.

Harry was aware that he shouldn't get carried away now, and anyway, his anger had long since passed, so he thought it best to try to restore good relations first.

"Dung, I brought you something," Harry said and handed the man a wooden box that Hermione had bought at Harry's request on their last shopping trip. "The finest Andorran tobacco, I hope you will like it."

He smiled amiably at the man, who accepted the gift a little distrustfully, but mumbled his thanks. Lupine watched the scene with interest.

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"As you probably know, I would like to ask for your help," Harry began.

· Yes, Lupine many…

"We're looking for a jewel," Harry continued. "A gold medallion decorated with a shirred letter S." If I'm guessing correctly, it was here in the house and mixed in with the things Sirius gave you… It's vital that we find that jewel!

Mundungus frowned and thought for a few moments, then suddenly his face brightened.

· Yes, I remember! In winter, a piece like this is hard to come by, but I put it away.

Harry sighed deeply. -

And… and do you remember who you sold it to?

· Well, how could I remember! the man nodded. "I went to Hogwarts, that... that day... I was drinking at the Winged Boar Inn, and when I was about to pay, I noticed that some rascal had stolen my wallet." I had no other choice, I paid the bartender with what I had... Well, I gave him the locket.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other, each of them with the same expression in their eyes: finally!

"Thank you Mundungus, I think that's it," Harry said, then turned hopefully to Lupin. - If you think so, stay for lunch, we're roasting chicken...

· Thank you Harry, but we have a lot to do, unfortunately we have to go - Lupine refused the invitation. "But before that, I also want to tell you something."

Harry watched in silence. Lupine seemed to be having a hard time getting what he was about to say.

"I'm asking you to come back," he said, and the Harrys were about to protest at the same time, but Lupine stopped them. "Don't…let me say it all the way through."

I understand that it's hard for you to go back to school after what happened with Dumbledore, and I don't want to force you, but at least come back to headquarters! You'd be safe there, safer than here or at Hogwarts... If you really wanted to, you could take part in the meetings, but... I just want you to be safe.

Harry rested his head on the table and listened worriedly to Lupine's words. When she looked up, she couldn't bear to look him in the eyes, instead looking for Ron and Hermione's eyes. Ron's eyes told him why he wasn't going to tell Lupin everything - if not now, then somewhere where they were alone. Hermione thought the opposite - Dumbledore gave a firm instruction. If they initiate someone now, they will only increase the risk that one day what they heard will reach the ears of a traitor...

But they've already arrived - the thought flashed through Harry's mind. It was Dumbledore who broke his own order when he initiated Snape...

Yes, Lupine would have time to find out what they were planning. But not now, as Mundungus is here to hear everything. Lupine will have to wait.

"Harry..." Lupine called hesitantly, waiting for an answer. Harry cleared his throat in confusion.

"I appreciate your concern for us, but… we can't go back to headquarters.

· Why? the man roared in exasperation. - What are you doing? What good was all this asking about Regulus and a crappy piece of jewelry? Harry, I helped you like I used to… Please help me understand what this is all about!

Mundungus looked from Harry to Lupin, and Hermione and Ron waited silently for Harry's decision.

Under the tacit agreement between them, Harry was left to make such decisions. Ron and Hermione took it for granted, and Harry sometimes, as now, found it a difficult task. Much depended on his decisions. Too many.

"I can't say anything here and now..." Harry began. "But tomorrow we're going to Hogwarts to find that locket, and we're also going to the school, because we have a little business there."

Harry looked at his friends here who nodded their agreement.

· I think we will stay at the school for a while, a few days, maybe a week. If it suits then, we'll set up a time and I'll tell you everything… everything we know and Dumbledore knew.

Lupine's face showed that he was not at all reassured by the answer, but he knew that he couldn't get more out of Harry than that. Lupine also rested his head, the fear of losing Harry as he had lost James, Lily and Sirius was visible in every limb, every movement.

"He'll kill me if you keep it up," Lupine's voice shook as he spoke this ominous warning to Harry.

And Harry was forced to give his former teacher the truth - they had gotten this far on their own, but they really missed that particular mentor that Dumbledore had also been looking for for Harry.

He decided that instead of Dumbledore's disastrous choice, which he made by relying on his brilliant mind, Harry would listen to his heart and break his oath to Dumbledore. Every inch of him felt that this was the right thing to do, and as soon as the time was right, he would do it. But not now. Now he has to send Lupin away in doubt, with a heavy heart.

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"Now go away," Harry said quietly without looking him in the eye. He felt terrible.

Lupine rose silently from the table, and without a word, without a single farewell, with Mundungus in tow, he walked out the door and disappeared.

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Chapter 10

Aberforth & Albus

Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to get up late the next morning, as they had already packed clothes and other things for the next trip the night before. At eleven in the morning, they washed up, got dressed, put the three Bottomless Bags on their backs, then locked the house and went out into the street.

Grimmauld square was deserted, only a few cars were driving due to the pouring rain. People preferred to stay indoors in their warm homes on this Saturday. The Harrys walked around the square and into the first alley to prepare for the hopscotch. They didn't bowl much, they held each other's hands and went for three. The next moment, they found themselves hundreds of kilometers away, among the beautiful wizarding houses and shops of Hogwarts village. The sight of people hopping here wasn't surprising, although there weren't many people on the streets this morning here, not even in Scotland.

The light seeping through the steamy windows of Három Seprû to their left almost lured people in, promising a warm, dry place and mouth- watering butterbeer. The Harrys were also affected by this inviting sight, but they had more important things to do. Passing the Három Seprû, they walked along the main street, then after the post office they turned into a dead end, at the end of which stood the old building of the Szárnyas Vadkan inn. They entered the goat-smelling, terribly dirty place through the door and looked around. The pub was painted the same as the last time they visited. There were hooded men sitting at the tables, talking in hushed tones, as was the custom with the suspicious guests of the Winged Boar.

Harry and his two friends thought that they too had exhausted the concept of 'suspicious guest', so all three of them left the hoods of their black traveling cloaks on. An old man with long, gray hair and a beard was measuring the drinks at the counter, and the Harrys headed towards him without thinking.

"Have a good day," Harry greeted the old man. "We'd like to talk to you if…"

· What do you want? growled the innkeeper.

· We want to talk to you face to face.

However, the man asked the same thing again: - What. You want.

Harry finally realized that before he could speak he had to order something first. Until then, the old man won't talk to him. - Ummm... then please...

"We'd like three glasses of Flametongue whiskey," Ron interjected with a grin.

Hermione grunted disapprovingly, and the bartender spat a man's mouth, then reluctantly took out three extremely dirty glasses and filled them with the juice.

The Harrys took the glasses and paid for the drink. Harry then tried again. He was about to open his mouth when the innkeeper interrupted.

· Come after me - growled the old man and stepped out from behind the shunt.

He started towards the stairs, and the three good friends followed him, but when they got inside, he stopped them. "Only you can come," he pointed at Harry. "They stay here."

Ron and Hermione reluctantly agreed and Harry followed the innkeeper upstairs.

When they reached the stairs, they found themselves in a long, cobwebbed corridor, with doors opening to the rooms on the right and left. The old man opened the door to room twelve and ushered in Harry, who unobtrusively grabbed his wand under his cloak - there was no reason to trust this man.

The old man closed the door and Harry sat down in one of the dusty armchairs that, along with a bed with torn sheets, a wardrobe, another armchair and a bedside table, made up the room's furnishings.

· What do you want? asked the innkeeper for the third time, and Harry began to worry that those two words were all the old man knew.

· Do you know Mundungus Fletcher? Harry tried.

· Yes - came the succinct answer.

· This one time, he paid you for the drink with a piece of jewelry.

The old man nodded. It was only now that Harry realized what a menacing figure the tall, long haired and bearded man had, towering over him with folded arms. Harry decided to get up from his chair to regain some of his confidence. His hand was still gripping the wand under his robes.

· I would like to buy that piece of jewelry if I could...

· For what?

· Because it has magical powers, and I need to know that this is the particular piece I'm looking for. "It has no magic, Potter."

Harry was no longer surprised that the old man knew his name. He thought it better to deepen the conversation a bit so that the old man would be more lenient. - You already know my name, I would also like

to know yours.

The old man grunted and then spat out a word carelessly.

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· Aberforth.

· What's Aberforth like? Harry continued to inquire, trying to be polite. The name was familiar to him from somewhere...

· Dumbledore. Aberforth Dumbledore.

Harry's jaw dropped spectacularly. Dumbledore's brother! Who was punished for bewitching a goat. That's where he knew the name, the long hair and beard, and the blue eyes.

· Uh… er… my condolences, sir.

"Yeah, yeah… I'm sorry, too," Aberforth nodded reluctantly.

They were both silent for a moment, then the old man sat down on the edge of the bed and now Harry felt himself in front. He didn't sit back in the chair.

"Albus told me a lot about you when we were drinking together in the evenings," Aberforth grumbled. Harry was surprised that the man could communicate in complex sentences.

· But he didn't tell me much about you.

· We were never so close to each other - he explained. "And... I wasn't even as talented as him..." I'm actually a swashbuckling wizard.

Then he looked Harry in the eye sternly.

· Please don't expect me to help you in your damned war. Harry raised an eyebrow.

· Not my war. And not the professor's either.

· But he considered it a personal matter! Aberforth objected. "He brought that satanic child to school, even though he should have seen what he was like!"

Harry shook his head.

· Don't put it on him! he warned the old man. "There was a chance that Tom Denem would be a good man..." Aberforth spat again.

· Damn it! I saw the kid too, he was a creepy little beast. It would have been better to stick his neck out early.

Aberforth's manner reminded Harry more and more of Uncle Vernon, except that his uncle would never spit in the flat.

· That was the problem with Albus, he liked to give everyone a chance... But it would have been his job to decide who really deserved it!

· Would it have been his job to…?

· Of course! the old man snapped. "He was the strongest, the greatest, the deified Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!" Whose task would it have been if not his?

· What are you talking about? Harry asked, increasingly suspecting that this was the old man's way of expressing grief and shock over the loss of his brother: blaming Dumbledore for his own death.

Aberforth mumbled to himself, Harry couldn't understand exactly what he was mumbling. Finally he stood up and started pacing the room.

"Sir, please calm down," Harry tried soothing words. "Professor Dumbledore knew…"

· Albus was a very good headmaster! - interrupted the man sullenly. "Hogwarts has never had a bigger headmaster than him." The only problem is that he behaved like a principal outside of school as well... a kind uncle teacher who takes care of his idiots...

· Maybe he shouldn't have behaved like that?

· No! Damn no! Aberforth's raspy voice boomed. "He had the power to make the world a better place, but he didn't!" When there was a problem, he tried to solve it, but he did nothing to prevent it!

· What do you mean by that?

"Damn it, Albus should be leading this whole pack!" I always told him to accept the ministerial post and stop acting like some kind Santa Claus! - his voice stopped here, but he continued -...

Albus didn't have the mental strength to deal with people with a strong hand! That… that was the problem with him…

Aberforth fell back on the bed and buried his face in his hands, sobbing softly. Harry didn't know what to do, so he sat next to her and hugged her shoulder supportively.

When after a few minutes the old man calmed down and wiped the tears from his eyes, he put on a scowl and snapped at Harry.

· What the hell do you need that crap for?

For a moment Harry didn't know what the old man was referring to, but he quickly came to his senses and realized why he was here.

· Professor Dumbledore was also looking for this jewel... I can't say why. Aberforth snorted contemptuously.

· Of course! The good old Albus kind of secrecy, so that the mullet would pounce on him...

With that he jumped up again and galloped out of the room, so suddenly that Harry didn't even have time to get up. He returned five minutes later, clutching the locket. She carelessly dropped it on the ground in front of Harry, who from then on did not hear or see anything else - all his attention was captured by the glittering jewel.

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· Yes, that's…! Harry whispered as soon as he saw the snake-shaped letter S. He tried to open the locket, but it wouldn't let him. Aberforth watched with interest.

· Sir, how much are you asking for this piece of jewelry?

· Do you want to buy it? Aberforth sneered, perhaps at Harry's odd taste in jewelry.

"No, I want to destroy it," Harry answered without batting an eyelid. He immediately found that the locket was intact - Regulus didn't manage to destroy it in time, he only had time to hide it in the house.

· For what? came another concise question.

· Because it's dangerous... Sir, I'll definitely break it, that's the most important thing! Harry stated emphatically. "How much is it worth to you?" Tell me and I'll pay you…

The old man pondered, frowning, sticking out his tongue, and finally moaned out a sum of money. - Fifty galleons. - FIFTY?!

Harry was outraged. "After all, Mundungus gave you this for a bottle of drink!"

· That's the price, do you like it or not?

Harry couldn't help but grunt and pay the old man - he didn't want to rob Dumbledore's own brother after all.

That was enough for Aberforth. He said goodbye, whisked me out of the room and slammed the door as if he had done his job well.

And Harry put the small golden jewel on the ground and muttered the control charm.

At his words, thick smoke billowed from the jewel and formed a face in the middle of the room - a handsome boy with black hair and green eyes.

· Canceled! said Harry, and the smoke image dissipated.

Harry didn't wait a second. He waved his wand and chanted the spell: - Diffindo!

The pendant trembled, lit up with a pale purple light, and in the next moment exploded into a thousand small pieces.

From the Winged Boar inn, the Harrys' path pretty much led back to where they came from, but when they reached the village boundary after the Three Broomsticks, they followed the Hogwarts sign up the hill to the school.

They trudged up the muddy road in the pouring rain, passed through the ornate gate decorated with winged wild boar statues, and continued their journey, now within the boundaries of the Hogwarts estate. On the way, Harry told his friends in a low voice about what happened in the upstairs room and the destruction of the horcrux, which Hermione and Ron received with cheers, they could hardly contain themselves not to dance in the middle of the road. They cut through the castle

park, past the willow tree and Hagrid's ruined hut, and after about twenty minutes of walking, they arrived in front of the huge main entrance of Hogwarts.

Ron pressed the heavy handle and the door obediently swung open. They found themselves in the imposing entrance hall, and from there they went up the stairs without stopping, which led to the Great Hall, which was closed by a stout door.

Since it was lunch time, the Harrys were sure that the room would be packed with students and teachers, and since they were hungry, they decided it was better to join their former friends right away.

"Well here we are…" Harry said looking at his friends.

· Well, knock on the door! Ron said with a grin, and Harry did as well, then pressed the doorknob.

When the door opened, they were greeted by the usual sight. The hustle and bustle of students and teachers having lunch filled the Great Hall, piles of mouth-watering food were on the tables, and the enchanted ceiling showed the image of the gloomy sky above. Perpendicular to the four long tables of the schoolhouses stood the teachers' table at the far end of the hall, where the former vice- principal, Minerva McGonagall, was now sitting on the headmaster's chair in Professor Dumbledore's place. To his right, Professor Flitwick, as the new vice-principal, sat on a raised chair, for the teacher was barely bigger than a six-year-old child. There was also a change in the chair to the left of McGonagall, it used to be Snape's chair, and now it is occupied by Horatius Lumpsluck, the old-new head teacher of the Slytherin house. To his left sat Hagrid, his massive size occupying three chairs and providing a strong contrast to Professor Flitwick.

Between Hagrid and Madame Cvikker sat the golden-haired Fleur, who succeeded Snape as a magical self-defense teacher. Harry noticed that a chair was left empty, according to which McGonagall still holds the transfiguration doctrine.

Harry's arrival was first noticed by the teachers and caused general consternation. McGonagall even got up from the chair and watched the approaching people, Hagrid was eating himself with the pumpkin, Fleur was waving merrily, and Lumpsluck started to nestle in her chair. The strange behavior of the teachers was also noticed by the students, who automatically turned towards the entrance and immediately fell silent. Harry, Ron and Hermione marched down the hall and stopped in front of the teacher's desk.

· Good morning, principal! Hermione greeted Professor McGonagall on behalf of her friends. "We're here." "I…I see Miss Granger," McGonagall stammered.

· Would you like to have three weary travelers as guests, professor? she asked with a smile.

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"Y-yes, of course...take your seats," McGonagall pointed to the Gryffindor table, and Harry, after greeting the other teachers with a nod or a smile, took their old place at the table.

Harry sat down next to a very cheerful looking Ginny, who didn't say a word, just planted an inconspicuous kiss on her cheek, and Ron shook hands with Dean and Neville.

Then they finally took a closer look around the room, and found that the tables were fairly bare, several students were missing, including Seamus Finnigan from the Gryffindor table, whom Harry liked the least among his former roommates, Parvati Patil and her raven-backed sister, Padma, as well as Romilda Vane and all of his chirping girlfriends were missing - Harry wasn't, though.

At the Hugrabug and Ravenback table, many more people were missing, for example, it is good for the Hugrabugs if half were here. However, the students of the Slytherin house were all present - with one exception.

When the Harrys also began to eat the delicious snack, the series of excited questions began. Neville was the first to lean over to Ron and ask in a low voice.

· Where have you been so far? Did you miss the train or what?

· No, Neville. We just went on a trip. We went here and there, to see the world... - replied the boy with a grin. Ron's answer drew stunned looks at the table, and the students immediately echoed it throughout the room.

· My mind stops! - squeaked Lavender Brown, next to whom sat not a Gryffindor, but the Hufflepuff Susan Bones. "The war is raging at home, are you going on a trip?"

· How much? Hermione asked back with feigned incomprehension. "The weather is nice, there are a thousand things to see - why not go on a trip?"

Ron and Harry laughed to themselves. Their tablemates tried in vain to get more serious words out of the three good friends, but they always made fun of the answer. Ginny didn't ask anything, she just gently held Harry's hand under the table since the boy sat next to him.

After Harry, Hermione and Ron finished their lunch with the other students and started moving to their rooms, students returning to their club rooms, Professor McGonagall approached Harry.

· Potter, when you're done, I'll be waiting for you in my office in ten minutes. I have a talk with you. Harry couldn't help but notice the reproach in the headmistress's voice.

"Alright Professor, I'll be there," Harry nodded.

· The password: owl pinch - he added and left with that.

Ron, Hermione and Harry looked at each other, they all knew why the professor wanted to talk to him. Harry asked Ron to carry his things up to their room, then said goodbye to Ginny with a smile and set off after McGonagall.

A few minutes later, Harry knocked on the door of the headmaster's office, then at McGonagall's words he entered the spacious, beautiful office. The headmistress sat behind her desk, her face stern, and glared at Harry.

Harry's first glance, however, fell on a gold-framed painting hanging on the wall behind the desk, depicting former Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry's heart skipped a beat, he didn't know what he was expecting when he saw her. The last time he was here, Dumbledore's painting was sleeping peacefully, not reacting to anything that was happening.

However, he was very much awake now, and from behind his crescent-shaped glasses, he watched the young wizard who entered, and even smiled faintly, as he used to do. "Welcome,

Potter," said the headmistress and offered Harry a seat, who returned the greeting.

Harry sat down in his chair and finally turned his attention to McGonagall, although his gaze sometimes wandered to Dumbledore. The painting didn't speak, it just smiled brightly.

"I'm sure you're not surprised that I called you," continued McGonagall. "With your sudden return to school and the news I've heard from Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin, I thought it was time we had a serious talk."

Harry didn't say a word, he knew that now the same awkward questions that Lupine had asked him would follow again, and he also knew that his answers would be the same.

He didn't have to be disappointed, McGonagall asked him without hesitation, not exactly calmly, where the hell they had been for so long. The answer in this case was honest: Godric's Hollow and the old headquarters.

McGonagall asked him why, and Harry was forced to refuse to answer.

Although Harry's utmost obedience to Dumbledore's orders had softened somewhat since his conversation with Lupin, he thought it was not yet time to bore the Headmistress into the details.

Certainly not within Dumbledore's ears. That was actually what was on her mind as McGonagall tried to get more and more details out of her about what she and her friends were limping on. Harry really wanted to be alone with the painting for a while, so that he could discuss with it what had happened, since one rarely gets the chance to have a meaningful conversation with a long-dead acquaintance. And besides that, he had a much more important thing to do in the principal's office - and that certain thing was lying quietly in one of the display cases

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on top next to a shining silver sword resting under a glass cover. You should definitely take the opportunity to check the Hat of Teszlek and, if possible, the sword of Gryffindor. However, he preferred to try the direct route first, instead of just breaking into the office like some criminal.

When McGonagall paused in her speech, which was about what dangers might be lurking outside the school, Harry gathered his courage and steered the conversation in new directions.

· Professor, I know you're not in a good mood right now... (McGalagony's nostrils quivered ominously and his lips pressed into a single line)... but I have to ask you something. Please leave me here in your office for a few minutes.

He expected the professor to start yelling at him, but instead he got another question.

· Why, if I may know?

Harry sighed and looked into McGonagall's eyes.

· Because... because I have work to do here. It would be important, and… if you do that, I'll have a chance to decide…

· Decide what? -...

that I can tell you the answers to your questions.

McGonagall's eyes lit up, but her stern features remained unchanged. He seemed to consider what he had heard, and a few moments later he stood up from his chair so suddenly that Harry flinched, and with a proud head held his head, he walked out of his office without a word, slamming the door behind him.

Harry sighed again. This was easier than he thought, but the hard part was just coming. He closed his eyes to collect his thoughts, then when he gathered himself he stood up and turned to Dumbledore's painting.

· D-Professor Dumbledore? Harry hesitantly addressed his old headmaster. The professor smiled again.

· Harry! I'm glad to see you safe, he said cheerfully. "I... I'm also glad

to... see you," Harry found the conversation a little difficult. It was all so bizarre!

· What do you remember, Professor? Harry asked.

Dumbledore's face was serious now, but there was no trace of sadness. This was the old, strong Dumbledore, who was not broken by something as small as his own death, rather he saw it as an annoying circumstance.

· I remember everything Harry. For everything that happened until the moment of my death.

Harry coughed in confusion.

· Then you also know that Snape betrayed us?

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore reprimanded the boy, who was first surprised, then ran away from the turkey poison.

· He's still protecting you now?! After all, he killed himself, he just said that he remembers everything!

· Harry…

· How can you protect that cursed Death Eater even now?! He betrayed us, and now Voldemort is only a hair away from victory!

· Harry! Calm down! Dumbledore tried to calm the boy, but Harry huffed and puffed with excitement. "Please calm down and listen to me," Harry stopped blowing. "Good... First of all, did you get my letter?" "Yes… yes, Fawkes delivered it a few months ago…

· Then you also know what my opinion is about what happened. I wrote that Severus has a compelling reason to fight the Death Eaters…

· Yes?! Did you write it down?! Harry roared again. "I'll tell you what he wrote!" Here it is…

Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled, torn letter he always kept with him - he had no idea why.

· Here, he wrote… he wrote: "Trust Severus, as I do. He's a good man, he wouldn't let you get into trouble because of his mistake. He will take care of you, as he took care of me when the need called for it." Good man?! A GOOD PERSON?!

Did you take care of yourself?!

Dumbledore waited patiently for Harry to calm down, but the words just kept coming out of the boy.

· HE KILLED HIMSELF! Snape is a cold-blooded killer, a traitor, as I've told you a thousand times, but he let it go by the ear! He didn't even listen because... because he cared more about the opinion of those filth than... than what I think! Even though the professor said how important my opinion... my feelings are to you, he just didn't listen to me on what would have been the most important... and... and now it might all be over, because Snape told Voldemort... he told, and now he knows...

YOU TOLD HIM YOURSELF!

Harry slumped into the chair, his accusations at an end. He didn't look up at Dumbledore, knowing that either the usual unbroken composure or the shocked realization on the painted face, he didn't want to see either.

which.

"Harry..." Dumbledore's voice sounded, and Harry, as if on command, raised his head and fixed his eyes on the painting.

· Harry, I know what I wrote and I know what happened. And as hard as it is for you to accept, it's my opinion unchanged.

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· What...? Harry moaned in a choked voice.

· Severus was firmly committed to fighting Voldemort. I think it's about time I told you why…" Harry listened silently. "When Severus was a Death Eater, he was tasked with spying on me for Voldemort." He gladly undertook this task, until the moment when Voldemort took his life

broke.

· Why?

· He put it to the test. He didn't want to be killed, but he gave three Death Eaters the job anyway. He wanted to see how strong his most talented student really was. I knew what Voldemort was up to, as I was also aware that Severus had come to spy on me. I sent Alastor Mordon to the scene to save his life. All three Death Eaters died that night, and Mordon arrested Severus as well.

I went to see Severus in Azkaban, where he was sent immediately after his arrest. I got him out of there after I made sure he was right.

· How... how are you so sure that it wasn't an act? Harry interrupted.

· Harry, you know dementors. I suspect you have an idea of what Azka might be like... or rather what it was like. In that place, one's mind breaks... even Lord Voldemort would not be able to keep his wits about him if he were locked up among them for days, and the Dementors were constantly preying on him. Believe me, I know… I was a prisoner of Azkaban when I was young.

· Really…?

Dumbledore nodded darkly.

· But that's an old case. Maybe I'll tell you one day.

The point is that I could clearly see Severus' emotions and real thoughts when I used Legilimency on him.

Her trust in Voldemort was shaken to its foundations. Every part of him screamed as he lay unconscious in that cell. I have trusted him since that day. It's easy to trust someone when you can see their emotions…

Doubt and trust wrestled in Harry's mind. He really didn't know what to believe, so he kept asking the professor. - And the fact that he killed you?

Isn't that proof enough? Dumbledore shook his head.

· Why? Wasn't he the obvious target of… oh my god, isn't he going to say that he made her kill him in a situation like this? Isn't it…?

· No, Harry. I didn't trust Severus with something like that. But if you think about things, you can see that what he did was the right thing to do.

· Sober?!

"Yes, it is," answered Dumbeldore. "If he leaves me alive then, he will expose himself, and I would have been killed anyway." Besides, I explained to Severus several times that what he was doing was vital. My task can be performed by someone else, as I described in the letter, but his role is irreplaceable.

Harry snorted contemptuously, out of sheer instinct, when he heard this. He was still torn between two feelings: he didn't know whether to laugh at the professor for his ridiculous trust in Snape or accept Dumbledore's opinion.

For now, he would have preferred to choose a middle path.

· What do you think Harry? Dumbledore asked, and Harry looked at him questioningly.

· I'm just a painting, I can't explain... - explained the professor. "You know, you may not be aware of it, but I can't help you with everything from now on as a painting, because… well, I'm just a painting." I have Albus Dumbledore's memories, feelings, and mindset, but I can no longer make decisions for you.

Harry was about to ask why, but he felt embarrassed and said otherwise.

· But you're very real to me... and I'm a little confused. I mean, I saw him die in June, and now we're standing here talking just like we used to.

"No, Harry," said the professor. "Not exactly the same." I'm not alive anymore. Harry shook his head.

· How can this be? After all, here he is, thinking, talking, and behaving the same as before, and... and I feel the same as when we talked...

· Harry, please explain what life is! interrupted the professor and Harry was speechless.

Dumbledore waited for a few minutes, but Harry could only huff, he hadn't expected a question like this at all, and when he thought about it, he really couldn't explain what life was. If only speech, thinking and emotions were life, then we could not consider things like animals and plants alive.

The smile appeared on Dumbledore's face again and he answered his own question: - Life, Harry, is nothing but change.

· Change…?

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· Yes, the professor nodded. "Something lives because it changes, because one of the most basic properties of death is infinity, changelessness." Thus, as long as something or someone changes, we can say that they are alive.

Now look at me Harry! - Dumbledore's eyes glistened sadly and the other portraits all fixed their eyes on Harry.

· I am a painting... I will always look the same in this picture, the same paint materials will always make up my face, my clothes, my beard, and most of all: I will always think and feel the same as Albus Dumbledore did until the moment of his death. I will never change, I will not be able to absorb new things, I just watch how time passes for others, while for me eternity will be the moment when I fell from the tower... That Dumbledore got here on the wall, who tried with his last strength there to revive something in Mr. Malfoy. You're talking to that Dumbledore now, not someone on whom the three months

that have passed since his death have left any kind of mark...

Harry, I'm not alive. And since I'm not alive, I can't change, I can't adapt to new situations, I'll always only be able to tell you what I could have said already in my life.

An immeasurable disappointment and despondency slowly overcame Harry as he listened to the painting's words. When he entered the office and saw the painting, he felt that Dumbledore had returned after all, as Harry had always secretly hoped, and he was telling the truth that he would never leave the school as long as there was one person loyal to him.

And Harry was loyal and obedient, and now he has to hear that Dumbledore can no longer help him... He tried with every ounce of his power to find a way out: - But... but he said something new

before! He told me what happened to Snape… but he was stubbornly protesting it the whole time!

· Indeed, except when we left the school that afternoon, and before that certain exchange of words took place between us in this office, I had to think about a lot of things. Until then, I had all my trust in Severus, but when you stood up so well in the cave and got me out of there, I realized, even then, in my life, that someone else was ripe for my trust. I decided even then that I would tell you why I believed Severus Snape, thereby promoting your future cooperation.

The thoughts that he should listen to Dumbledore again, like before, came more and more to the fore in Harry's mind. But his unquenchable hatred and mistrust of Snape never went away, and this doubt could drive Harry to madness.

· Harry, listen to me! said Dumbledore again. – When I was in charge of directing the Order of the Phoenix, guiding you and running the school, I made my own decisions – good, bad, but I took responsibility for them.

In the same way, Severus made his own decision to kill me then and there, and he also accepted the consequences. And based on this, I

can only advise you to make your own decisions, which you see as good, based on your feelings or your mind, and take responsibility for them! There are things you have to do, you have a job to do, and I can't be there to help anymore, I can't make decisions for you, like I said. If you feel that some of my decisions were wrong, then it's time to stand up for yourself! It's your way now, Harry.

Harry nodded and his thoughts finally settled in his mind. He knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do. He got up from the chair and gathered himself.

"I'll make that decision then," Harry announced. "I will initiate some members of the Order of the Phoenix, Professor McGonagall, Lupin, Mordon, and a few others I trust." I tell them all about the horcruxes, the prophecy and my task. I need them, their help and support. And they deserve to know what we're up against.

Dumbledore put on a cheerful face, as if he had just found out that the weather was going to be fine all day. A few other paintings shook their heads in disapproval, but Harry ignored them.

Dumbledore winked at Harry and leaned back in his painted chair.

· In that case, invite Minerva, because I think she really wants to know if there is any meaning to what she heard at the door...

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Chapter 11

The new leader

· This is madness... this is unbelievable... how could someone get so far from the limits of sanity? said McGonagall when Harry finished talking about Horcruxes, Voldemort and Dumbledore's plan, Harry's task and last but not least, the exact text of the prophecy. "And it all happened before our eyes, Minerva," Professor

Dumbledore nodded. "You were a freshman when Tom Denem opened the pantry." I remember entrusting you to keep an eye on the boy because I was already suspicious of him. But unfortunately, he managed to turn us both into horses...

· Not yourself, professor! Harry protested. "You claimed that Hagrid was innocent back then..."

· Yes, it is, but did I do anything to prevent those atrocities? Dumbledore asked more to himself than to Harry and McGonagall.

Harry remembered what Dumbledore's brother Aberforth had said. According to him, the professor's job was to use his power to put order in the world and prevent such events.

"Professor, I spoke to your brother..." Harry began. - Oh, really?

Dumbledore smiled brightly. "It's been a long time since I've talked to Aberforth... It's been half a year since we sat down to talk."

· According to him, Tom Denem should not have gone to Hogwarts... he also said that it was your job to prevent him...

Dumbledore nodded grimly, McGonagall watched in silence. - And what do you think about that, Harry?

"I don't know..." Harry frowned. "If I had the chance, I would definitely redo things, but like you when I wasn't sure what it would become... I think I would have let him go to Hogwarts too." I don't know that I would have done anything differently…

Dumbledore leaned back in his painted armchair and stroked his beard thoughtfully.

· According to them, my decisions up to that point were still in place... Where could I have messed up?

"Where would you have messed it up, Albus?" McGonagall asked with a sad look. "You didn't foresee the future, you just did what any principal would have done: you let a talented student learn."

Dumbledore hummed.

· Perhaps the problem was that I acted as a director - said the portrait quietly. "Harry?"

Harry sat in his usual chair and stared at his shoes, thinking over the information he had acquired over the past fifty years and the already known consequences. He answered the question slowly and thoughtfully: - I don't really know

what the right decision would have been, but... maybe we should have persuaded Principal Dippett to hire Denem as a SVK teacher...

· WHAT?! the portrait of Headmaster Armando Dippett, right next to Dumbledore's, snapped in shock. "After what happened to him, would you still have thought it right to hire Tom Denem?"

Dumbeldore, on the other hand, nodded cheerfully, as if he and Harry were pondering a school lesson.

· Exactly, dear Director Dippett! Harry can see it. This would indeed have been a purposeful decision, as we could have kept our eyes on Tom, and besides, he would not have had the opportunity to travel the world and gain experience. - And… and the horcruxes?

said McGonagall again. "Didn't you say, Albus, that Who-knows wanted to stay at school so he could get his hands on Godrik's sword of Gryffindor?"

"But indeed," agreed Dumbledore, "except that one horcrux he would make would be worth it in exchange for me to keep my eyes on him..."

Harry's eyes wandered to the silver sword, and from there to the Teszlek Helmet resting next to it. Would this mean that Voldemort had no chance to get near the Hat? - Um... professor? Harry snapped at the

painting. "I have a few more things to say about Horcruxes."

· We're listening, Harry.

"I don't know if you're aware, but the locket we found in the cave was not the original, it was a fake," Harry looked expectantly at Dumbledore.

· I guessed that when I touched it - its surface was smooth, I could feel it. But unfortunately, I didn't have time to examine it more thoroughly - answered the portrait.

"But since then I managed to track him down and destroy him..." Harry continued and told about Regulus Black, his visit to the Winged Boar and the breaking of the horcrux.

· Well done, Harry! I'm really glad! - the painting inspired, and former directors and directors also applauded Harry.

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· Did you manage to destroy one? McGonagall wondered, apparently rarely able to speak from the amount of information that was pouring into his neck.

"With the help of Hermione and Ron," Harry corrected himself. "And there are already a few more items that we suspect and want to examine, but... I think it's better if I ask the professor first if he has already dealt with them." "I am at your disposal, Harry," the portrait smiled.

Harry cleared his throat and tried to gather his thoughts on how to begin. There was no way he wanted to say this in front of Teszlek Süveg, so he decided to skip that part and look into it another time.

He told the other possible horcruxes, the sword - to which Professor Dumbledore immediately noted that he checked it every month as a precaution, ever since he found out how many horcruxes he wanted to make Voldemort's statue, Ravenclaw's jewels and the Black -, a family's seal press, and Harry expressed his suspicions, that the Blacks might be descendants of Hedvig Hollóháti.

· I don't know if they come from a great ancestor, but maybe...

· Phineas! McGonagall said to one of the paintings depicting Phineas Nigellus, Sirius' grandfather, the most obnoxious headmaster ever at Hogwarts.

Phineas yawned sleepily but kept his eyes fixed on the Headmistress.

· Did you hear everything?

"Yes, I have heard, McGonagall, and I can assure young Potter that my family has nothing to do with that woman…"

Harry listened to the portrait's words in frustration.

· Are you sure?

· Most definitely! Phineas nodded. – The Blacks come from an ancient Celtic druid... his name has unfortunately not survived. Some members of my family were convinced that that certain druid was none other than the great Merlin, but I think it's just a little embellishment on our family tree...

Harry remained silent now and listened with half an ear as Phineas talked about his family and McGonagall counted possible Ravenclaw descendants. His mind was on other things to do. He made it this far with his friends, destroyed a horcrux, but more tasks await him.

First, however, to the headmistress: "Professor McGonagall," Harry addressed, and the teacher's attention was

already on her. Harry's words stopped for a moment, for some reason it was still strange to him that now, after Dumbledore's death, everyone was paying the same attention to him as they used to be to the headmaster.

"I would like you to set up a meeting with some members of the Order of the Phoenix to tell them these things."

McGonagall nodded her agreement.

· When should I organize the meeting?

· If possible, as soon as possible. I know they have a lot to do, but it would be nice if it could happen by the end of the week.

· This can be solved...

· Good. The ones I was thinking of were Remus Lupin, Mr Weasley, Tonks and Mordon Scaryeye... I'd like to initiate Hagrid as well, but

I think he's got enough to do anyway, and... well, you know what Hagrid is like, Professor. He's a bit of a slob... - I see, Harry. If everything goes well, we'll

see you on Friday... In the meantime, I'd like you to stay here at school. Don't wander off, but you can use the office anytime, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley too. No one is listening to you here, you can talk safely.

Harry thanked him for the favor and decided to himself that the first thing he would do in the office was to have a chat with the Teszlek Hat.

During the following days, the general astonishment, speculations and annoying questioning about Harry's arrival did not stop, which even extended to the teachers, especially Hagrid and Fleur. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione visited Hagrid the next morning, it soon

became clear that they had gone in the wrong direction: the burnt-down boar's house had not been rebuilt, because Professor McGonagall insisted that the legendary creature care teacher finally get a worthy place within the school's walls. Therefore, they furnished an upstairs room and office for Hagrid with some space-enlarging charm.

The Harrys met their old friend here and found that the new residence did not suit Hagrid at all.

He also saw it this

way: - It's all so strange, isn't it? Hagrid rumbled as he poured tea for his friends. "Nothing is the same anymore..." Everything is so new and foreign… This is no longer the Hogwarts that I considered my home.

· Do you want to move? Ron shook his head. Hagrid waved.

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· Come on, where would I go? They don't welcome a half-giant anywhere.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Hagrid noticed this and frowned at them.

· What are you thinking?

"We think there's a place you'd like to see, Hagrid…" Harry said with a grin. "Madame Maxime would surely be glad to have you near her."

Hagrid shook his shaggy cauldron.

· No-no... - he protested. "I can't leave here while the war is raging." Then when this madness is over and Snape is six feet underground, I'll leave... But until then, Olympe will have to wait... and I know she will.

Harry leaned back in his chair and stared into nothingness. Hagrid spoke just like him.

· Is there anything new you can tell us about? Hermione asked, which excited both of her friends.

Hagrid was muttering something under his breath, but they didn't quite understand, just a few words like 'spoon in every juice' and 'get their noses in'.

· Hagrid, don't do it! snapped Ron. – In a week, I think we will also be members of the Order of the Phoenix, because we know things that no one else does!

This worked, Hagrid frowned and stopped his rumbling.

· What were you away for, huh? he grumbled in annoyance. "Whatever could have happened to you, you're just wandering around the country... Do you have any idea how I felt when I didn't see you at the New Year's party?" Dumbledore… After Dumbledore's death, this place is only worth anything as long as you're here…

Hermione hugged Hagrid's arm with a smile, and Harry and Ron patted the giant on the back.

· What's all the fuss about getting you into the Order?

"It's not a mess, but it's not at all certain that they'll buy it..." Hermione remarked.

"But we learned important things from the professor," continued Harry, "things he only told us."

Hagrid grunted, but only approvingly – apparently agreeing that if Dumbledore just told them it was fine. Finally he straightened up in his chair and collected the empty teacups.

"If you've been wandering around, you should know that you don't just have to be afraid of Death Eaters," he said, then offered his friends a bowl of hard cake, which the Harrys politely declined.

· Recently, there are some serious problems around Gringotts... the goblins are not resting, and I think that after a hundred years we are facing another goblin rebellion.

· Is it that serious? Ron wondered.

· Bezony... Their sleazy leader, Ragnok, I think, wants to take advantage of the fact that the Ministry is busy with Death Eaters. He wants to extort more concessions and a share of the wizards' money from the bank. - And that's why they can kill?

said Harry in disbelief.

"A goblin's god is money," waved Hagrid. "They'll do anything for gold..."

The rest of the morning was spent in pleasant conversation, and finally, after lunch, the Harrys retreated to their old room, the door of which was decorated with the inscription Seven Year Olds.

The next week was more boring than Harry had expected. He and his friends found out on Sunday evening that this was the time for the RBF exams of last year's fifth-graders and the RAVASz exams of the former seventh-graders, which were missed due to the death of Professor Dumbledore. Last year's seventh-years came back to school for this week, including Cho Chang, who still refused to say hello to Harry - although Harry didn't mind at all.

Ginny didn't have any time for her friends during the exams, although she wanted to spend as much time with Harry as possible, but Hermione had strictly ordered both Harry and the girl to stay away from each other until Friday.

At the same time, Hermione tried to get Ron and Harry to attend the seventh year classes while they were here. However, after the first magical self-defense class, Harry decided to say thank you, he didn't ask for Fleur's special attention, which involved her asking Harry's opinion after every sentence she dictated about the patron charm and defense against dementors.

Ron and Hermione stayed, almost every class - in the already mentioned magical self-defense, according to Harry's conviction, Ron was haunted by the teacher's beauty, and the transformation in doctrine, charms and potions was Hermione's stern gaze.

On Monday afternoon, after declaring that he couldn't keep up with the lessons, Harry retreated, not to the clubhouse, but to the principal's office. He said the password ("Hairy McBoon") and the stone monster jumped aside and Harry went up the spiral staircase. Although he was sure the headmistress wasn't in the room because he knew she was in double transformation right now, he knocked on the door out of sheer politeness before opening the door. Not a single created soul was there, only the rustling and snoring of the paintings could be heard.

Harry's gaze immediately fell on the Teszlek Helmet. He closed the door and entered the room. Meanwhile, he pulled out his magic wand from his pants pocket and pointed it at the Hat.

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· What are you doing, young man? said an indignant voice behind Harry, which made him flinch. One of the old principals scolded him when she saw him standing alone in the middle of the principal's office with his wand out. Harry didn't pay her much attention, he just called back over his shoulder to the witch.

· My job... Invito Hat! - he added in his mind, and Teszlek's Hat flew from the top of the cupboard straight into Harry's hand.

Harry placed the headgear on the table and re-pointed his wand. He performed the control charm, and a thin streak of smoke rolled out of Süveg, as if someone had lit a candle inside. In seconds, the smoke swelled into a small cloud and formed a head. A young man with long, red hair and a beard, whom Harry Gryffindor thought was Godric. The smoke only showed the face for a moment, then it continued to form, and now it shaped a wonderfully beautiful female face with auburn hair. That must have been Hedwig Ravenclaw, Harry thought. After that came a chubby, blond-haired witch who smiled kindly in the picture - Hugrabug Helga.

The fourth face didn't wait for him either, now Maldekár Malazar's shaggy, black hair and beard, sullen face follows... but that's not what happened. The cloud of smoke faintly showed the shape of a badger, but the image was not clear, it was not possible to recognize who it was. Finally, the image continued to form, and a fifth face was now clearly visible: a man with shoulder-length black hair and green eyes.

Harry found himself panting violently and having to sit down on a chair. He sat down in front of the desk and propped his head up to cover his face. He took deep breaths to collect his thoughts.

So it really is a Horcrux! He could hardly believe that Voldemort had turned the Goblin into a horcrux. He leaned back in his chair, conjured a wooden goblet and filled it with water. He had to shake himself from the thrill of recognition.

The smoke was still billowing from the Hat, again showing four clear faces and one blurry one. By this time, several paintings were awake and watching the events, including Professor Dumbledore.

· Professor, do you see this? Harry instinctively asked his former headmaster.

"Yes Harry, I see," Dumbledore answered calmly. "But do you see it?" he added as Harry reached for his wand again to clear the smoke.

· What else should I see? Harry stopped moving. Then his eyes fixed on the professor.

· I take it you think the Teszlek Helmet is a horcrux, right?

· Of course it is! Harry snapped nervously. "You can clearly see Voldemort's face!" Dumbledore thought with a frown and stroked his beard.

· Indeed, but I was thinking of the other face. The one that looks blurry. Harry scanned the image again, but noticed nothing else, no other details.

· I think it could be Slytherin... I don't know who else it could be...

· Of course Slytherin! the professor nodded. "The point is, why is it blurred?" I wonder why?

Harry racked his brains, twirling the small goblet between his fingers, but found it difficult to think. The professor waited patiently, and Harry leaned back in his chair again, watching the smoke.

If one of the original faces is present in a blur, it's because someone manipulated it… someone pushed it into the background. But why did Voldemort put Slytherin in the background? Why not Gryffindor, or one of the witches?

The goblet fell from Harry's hand and rolled on the floor. Annoyed, she got up to go after him, but when she reached down for the small glass, her hand stopped halfway.

He looked up at Dumbledore's picture and continued to think aloud, somewhat uncertainly.

· Voldemort relegated Slytherin's personality to the background... to make his own come to the fore... and he could only do it with a spell! With a confounding curse! Harry said this much more firmly, and Dumbledore's face brightened.

· Exactly Harry! the portrait smiled. "And what does all this lead to?"

· That the Helmet is not a Horcrux, it was just manipulated! If it were a horcrux, the fourth face wouldn't be blurred because an additional, fifth personality would be present. But Voldemort's face is not fifth, but fourth, that he decides who gets into Slytherin and who

doesn't,

Dumbledore nodded. – and you don't need a piece of soul for that.

Harry picked up the goblet and filled it with water, then sat back in his chair sipping. "You knew," he said to the painting. "You already checked it out, didn't you?"

"Yes," answered Dumbeldore.

Harry cleared the smoke and pocketed his wand. As he drank the contents of the glass, he pondered another question.

· Then why didn't you fix it? Harry asked the Headmaster. "Why did you let people who would be on Voldemort's side get into Slytherin?"

"That's exactly why Harry," he answered with noble simplicity. Harry blinked in confusion.

· How...?

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· Think Harry, think! Dumbledore scolded. "Voldemort's plan was to gather those he could use to achieve his goals." He singled them out from the crowd and separated them. And once again he thought no more than his own petty interests!

The reason I didn't fix the Hat is because by choosing students who lean towards Voldemort's ideals, not only Voldemort sees through the situation, but so do I! Voldemort would probably have found those who were loyal to him, those who shared his views, as he had done with some of the students from other houses. Manipulating the Hat only made things a little easier. But it made my job a lot easier!

Even though I was the principal, I couldn't keep an eye on every single student, only those who were worthy of my attention. But because the students who were drawn to Voldemort were separated, they almost stood out from the crowd, I could keep an eye on all of them at the same time with the help of some of my talented teachers. I was able to observe the things going on between them, the topics that come up during their conversations, the groups and societies they form. With this move Voldemort made my mill run wild. And, as you can see, this is why I let every single student attend Hogwarts, anyone who had a spark of wizardry in them, be they werewolf, half-vampire, half-giant, or almost Quibly. Because that's how I could find out where their hearts lead. If these people were not Hogwarts students, they could easily have fallen victim to Voldemort's will, and by the time they woke up, they would already find themselves among the ranks of the Death Eaters.

Harry looked at Dumbledore and the Tinker Bell with his mouth open, and he had to admit to himself that the genius of his old headmaster still held many surprises for him even from beyond the grave. He shook his head in disbelief to process what he heard, finally smiled, then began to laugh. He laughed out loud and long, along with Dumbledore, Headmaster Dippett and the other wizards and witches.

Exams finished on Friday afternoon and Harry finally got to spend some time with Ginny. Unfortunately, they couldn't spend this time on the lake shore, in the shade of the trees - on the one hand, because a storm was raging, and on the other hand, it would have been quite conspicuous, so they went to the headmaster's room, where Harry visited most recently.

· How did your exams go? Harry asked as he and the girl sat on the cold pavement of the headmaster's office in front of the fireplace, as far away from the window and the elements raging outside as possible.

· They didn't turn out bad... I think they all worked out - the girl answered. "Charms and dark spells… oh, no."

Magical self-defense and incantations became the best. I didn't make any mistakes in practice and I think the theory went well. He was a good teacher, you know," he added, winking at Harry.

Harry kissed her.

· You were the most talented in DS, the teacher didn't have much to do... Ginny waved and then continued: -

The transformation didn't go bad either... I had to transform a badger, but only to transform its legs and fur.

Harry raised an eyebrow and then chuckled.

· He ended up looking like a bald mole...

The subjects I chose were the easiest, you know, I only had legendary creatures and muggle studies, because the rest didn't interest me at all. So, all in all, I can't complain…

"If you keep it up, you'll be top of the school," Harry grinned.

· No, blow! she laughed. "I wouldn't tolerate such humiliation, that's for sure!"

Some paintings shook their heads. The portrait of Dumbledore was sleeping, leaning against the back of the armchair, sobbing peacefully as it had on the night of the professor's death.

Outside, the sky thundered and lightning flashed across it. Fortunately, in the warm office, one could not perceive much of the inclement weather, only noises and lights. Harry gently took Ginny's hand and blew a kiss. After that, he reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a pocket book sized object wrapped in brown paper and handed it to Ginny. She opened it and a dusty, old mirror came out.

Two days ago, Harry came across the pieces of the mirror in the depths of his old suitcase, which he stuffed into the Bottomless Sack with the rest of his belongings. When he found and re-read the instructions on the back, which were in Sirius's handwriting, Harry suddenly had a brilliant idea of how he could keep in touch with Ginny while they were away. Then he immediately repaired the mirror and packed it up.

"I got this from Sirius once," the boy explained when Ginny looked at him questioningly. - A twin mirror, that is, if you want to talk to the person who has their partner, just say their name in the mirror. His partner is in Grimmauld Square, so if I go back there I'll find him and we can talk without anyone eavesdropping.

Ginny looked at the mirror with sparkling eyes and dusted it off. "Thank you," she said and hugged Harry.

They sat like that in front of the fire for a long time, cuddling, and finally Ginny pulled away.

· Harry, tell me why we came here? she asked.

· We are waiting for some people, some members of the Order. As far as I know, your father will be here too.

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· Is dad coming here? But... Wait, you're planning something! she smiled. "Something serious is brewing, right?"

"Yes…I decided to tell them what I know from Professor Dumbledore." Anything to do with Voldemort.

Harry and Ginny instinctively glanced at the painting. - And... and will you tell me too?

· That's why I brought you here! I need everyone I can trust.

Ginny kissed Harry and then there was a knock on the door. Harry went to the door to let Ron and Hermione in, who he had arranged to meet here after class.

· Well, you're here - he greeted his friends.

· Oh, Harry, it's a shame you didn't come to Fleur's class, it was so exciting! Hermione enthused, Ron on the other hand just shrugged his shoulders and plopped down on one of the chairs.

· We started learning about emotion-based spells, you know, like the patron charm, because it's already RAVASz.-level curriculum, and it would definitely go very well for you, since...

· Hermione, that's enough! Ron said sleepily to the girl. "You've been inspiring me all this time." Besides, Flitwick's class was much more interesting now. THE…

· Flitwick taught me about combined spells, he will teach this all year, because it is the most difficult branch of magic. But I shouldn't be surprised, because they said that the seventh year is the most exciting, of course, the hardest, but...

· HERMIONE! Ron, Harry and Ginny shouted in unison, even some portraits were among the protesters. Dumbledore's painting grunted in his sleep and his head tilted to the other side.

Ten minutes had already passed when the sound of footsteps and conversation was heard from beyond the door, and then Professor McGonagall entered, followed by Tonks, Lupin, Mr. Weasley and the thunderous Mordon Scarecrow.

The guests greeted the Harrys one by one, and Mr. Weasley hugged his children. Mordon's magical eyes scanned Harry like an X-ray.

· Hello Harry - Lupine shook Harry's hand, and the boy noticed that his former teacher was waiting patiently, but watching him unceasingly - he finally settled into an armchair that McGonagall had conjured up for the guests. Meanwhile, Dumbledore's portrait also woke up and greeted the guests, then quietly observed the events.

After a few minutes of waiting, everyone finally took their seats, but not in front of the desk, but they pulled the chairs in a semi- circle, facing Harry - they all knew that now he would have something important to say. Ginny also sat down next to her father, and Ron and Hermione sat on the stairs leading to the library part of the office, a little further back.

McGonagall and Harry remained standing, the headmistress standing next to her desk with her arms crossed, and Harry instinctively but slightly embarrassed stood in front of the guests and cleared his throat.

"Hello everyone," Harry said. "I'm not kidding you, I called you here to tell you what I learned from Professor Dumbledore." The night the professor died, Professor McGonagall called me into the office to tell me where we were. I didn't answer then because Professor Dumbledore asked me not to tell anyone but Hermione and Ron what we found out about Voldemort… (Tonks and Mr Weasley shuddered at the name)… But now I've finally made up my mind to get some of you into it - Professor Dumbledore he entrusted this to me.

The guests listened patiently as Harry told them the memories he and the professor had viewed in the medley, where it all led, and how he had obtained the exact memory from Horace Lumpsluck.

When he got to the part where he had to tell about the Horcruxes themselves, shock and astonishment prevailed among the patient audience - just like Professor McGonagall when he found out about them.

· He did seven such things? Tonks whispered.

· No, he wouldn't have made seven, but only six, since the seventh soul piece was in his own body, but he didn't manage to make all six, he wanted to make the last one when I died. We found what would be the final horcrux - an old seal press that we believe belonged to the Black family.

· Can we have a look at that stamper? Lupine asked with a frown. "Um… well, so… I left it at home," Harry admitted with a toast.

· Where?

· In the Black house... When we found RAB, everything else went out of my head...

· ROB? Ginny cooed.

· Yes, yes, I'll get to that, but...

· Didn't he look like that?

McGonagall held out a seal press to Harry. He took the heavy object and examined it, but it was very different from the sealer in Godric's Hollow. It was not made of black, but red painted wood and had a decorative flower petal at the bottom.

"No… it was black and lighter," Harry blinked. "Did you mean, Professor, that Voldemort simply took a Hogwarts seal press and tried to turn it into a Horcrux?"

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"After all…" Mr Weasley scratched his head. "He might have tried if he couldn't lay his hands on any of the relics.

"I don't think that's likely, Mr. Weasley," Hermione interjected, putting her hand up as if in class. - Voldemort wanted to become immortal with that sixth soul dismemberment, and we know how important mysticism and extravagance were to him... So I find it inconceivable that he would have chosen an ordinary seal press, even if it was from Hogwarts... That object could have had some important origin...

Everyone remained silent for a while, and finally Mordon broke the silence when Harry wanted to continue the story.

· Who makes the Hogwarts seal presses?

· What does it matter, Scarecrow? Tonks interjected. "Harry just said it wasn't Hogwarts…"

"That's because, Auror pearl, the making of magical seal presses requires special expertise," Mordon cracked, "… so we can get to its

maker,"

-, only a few mages deal with it, so…

Mr. Weasley finished the sentence.

McGonagall thought, but couldn't remember the maker's name. Finally, he promised to look it up in the official documents, and with that he set off for the director's library.

· But why is this so important now? Ginny spread her arms. "It's clear that that sealer isn't a Horcrux, we should deal with what might still be!"

"Ginny's right," Harry said, smiling at his friend. "We have to sort out what they might be." We've already thought of a few with Hermione and Ron, but we need you to follow up.

First of all, I have to say that the director and I went in search of one of these that afternoon... but we only found a fake one, in the place where Malazar Slytherin's medallion should have been. Someone had replaced it with an ordinary gold necklace – Harry pointed to the jewel around Ginny's neck and all heads turned to her. Ginny also opened her mouth in amazement, she had no idea where the pendant

came from. -… And we also know who it was: Regulus Alphard Black, a rebel Death Eater who learned of the existence of this item and stole it,

but was killed before he could destroy it. And last year Mundungus Fletcher found it in the Black house and sold it to Aberforth Dumbledore for a bottle of drink. We've tracked him this far and finally found him... So one less horcrux.

The audience looked at the Harrys with equal parts shock and respect. Lupine continued to ponder, "So how many horcruxes are left now?"

· Three. Nagini, Voldemort's snake, Hufflepuff's cup, and the unknown horcrux once owned by either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. We were looking for the sealer because if it was proven that it belonged to one of them, then we would only have to pay attention to the other one...

The four guests nodded thoughtfully. Harry took advantage of another break and walked over to his robes hanging on the coat hanger, then after a short rummage he fished out of his pocket a sheet of paper with the next tasks written on it. He smirked for a moment at the ironic thought of how pathetically he was trying to follow in Dumbledore's footsteps.

· I think it is clear what our task is - he continued and skimmed the page. "We have to check all the possible horcruxes one by one, we wrote down what Hermione had in mind on this sheet." We have to divide the tasks among ourselves, because this is our most urgent thing... do you agree?

The Order members nodded.

· Correct. I've been thinking a lot about what's next, and I feel that we - Hermione, Ron and I - should search for the goblet's location. Since Tom Denem acquired the goblet at the same time as the locket, there is probably a connection between the placement of the two as well - I just think that's how Voldemort would think. He hid the locket in a place connected to his old orphanage, in a cave. At the time, the children from the orphanage were taken on a trip to the town next to the cave and he terrorized some of his friends here... There may be a connection in this as well: we need to look for people in the orphanage to whom strange things happened at that time. There must be an archive where records of such things are kept. We will investigate this.

And you... you have to check the possible items...

Lupin, Tonks, Mr. Weasley and Mordon looked expectantly at Harry, who finally came to his senses and realized that he was being expected to give instructions. This startled him greatly and his eyes met Dumbledore's. The headmaster's portrait waved a hand to encourage Harry to speak. - Um... good, then

Mr. Weasley, please find out what's going on with the statue of Hedvig Ravenclaw, you know what's on El tér. The Demonstrate Charm will show you if it is a Horcrux. If it really is, Tom Denem's face will appear, indicating that his soul is in it.

Mr. Lupin, Tonks, search for the rest of the relics yourself, including Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, in museums, archives, libraries, the ministry... There are many of them, but all in unknown places.

I'll give you a list.

With it, he handed over the written piece of parchment.

· Mr. Mordon, please look after the sealer. I'll take it through the fireplace to headquarters.

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Well, that was it... - he finished the briefing. But then he remembered another problem that needed to be solved. "Is there any way we can keep in touch?"

Mr. Weasley answered the question: -

The members of the Order of the Phoenix keep in touch with whoop letters...

· Hop-…

· Letters, yes. It is a very interesting invention and has not yet been introduced into everyday life, explained the man with a beaming face. - Dumbledore invented this way of transmitting messages. The point is that we use envelopes that have been pickled in hopp powder before, so when we write the message, we just light a fire on the envelope with our stick and say the destination. And the envelope disappears and immediately appears at the addressee's place... You know, before that you couldn't send letters over a fireplace because they burned, but you can use such envelopes, and you don't even need a fireplace anymore.

· Great! Ron enthused. "Can you give me such envelopes?"

"Professor McGonagall will give it to you before you leave," Mordon left.

The members of the company stood up as one and removed the extra chairs. The meeting was over and Harry felt a little strange as he watched the wizards go for their coats - they were all treating him like he was their leader. He was suddenly gripped by an oppressive, throat-tight feeling. It was only now that he began to realize what kind of responsibility rested on him. These people all count on him and expect Harry to make decisions for them - ones that could depend on their lives.

As if sensing his thoughts, Lupine walked up to him, his worn robes on his arms, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry looked up at the tired face.

"Harry, I want you to know that I am very proud of you," said the man, and then the others also stopped dressing and looked at Harry. "You've proven that you're your father's son many times before, but… now you've also proven that you're worthy of Dumbledore as well."

Harry shook his head in protest, but Lupine continued in a whisper before the boy could speak.

· You owe me one more explanation, Harry, which we would all be interested in. Harry looked at Lupin questioningly.

· The prediction. What is the truth of it?

Harry sighed deeply.

· What they say is all true... and more. The prophecy says that either Voldemort or I will kill the other. And it will happen that way, Harry stated. "That's why I can't stay at your headquarters."

At Hogwarts. That's my job.

Lupine looked sadly into Harry's eyes, a look of fear and weariness on his face. Worry and weakness from the approaching full moon made the wizard look much older, but when he spoke, his voice rang with determination.

· I know Harry. But we will all help with it. I won't let you face it alone. Harry smiled, but only faintly, and shook Lupin's hand in farewell.

After the four guests left, Harry was left alone in the office with his three friends - McGonagall escorted the Order members out. Hermione looked at Harry, swelling with pride, as did Dumbledore. And Ron and Ginny were unusually serious after what they heard.

· When did they leave? Ginny asked her friends.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and finally Hermione answered the question.

· Sunday night. We'll go to the Black house, and from there we'll look for that particular orphanage on Monday morning. And we hope for the best…

Harry hugged Ginny, who smiled at him. Ginny suddenly pulled away and turned to her friends with a cheerful face.

· Then we still have a weekend ahead of us. Which one of you comes down to the kitchen for some dessert? - asked the girl with a grin, and in the next moment the four good friends had already left the imposing office.

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Chapter 12

The Orphanage

Harry, Ron and Hermione left Hogwarts on Sunday evening, going through McGonagall's fireplace to the House of Black. No sooner had the rumors and speculations about their unexpected arrival subsided at school than new rumors arose about the quick departure of the three good friends.

The first thing Harry did on Sunday night was to run upstairs to his room and look for the seal press he had forgotten at home. As soon as he opened the door, he immediately noticed that the seal press was lying on the bed, it might have been accidentally left there while packing. He picked up the sealer and hurried back to the kitchen, where he sent it through the hop network to the Prewett house.

· Once you leave your head! one of the paintings said to him. Harry left him without a word and went into the drawing room where Ron and Hermione were sipping a glass of butterbeer and watching the rain fall outside. -

Did you send it over? Ron asked when he caught sight of his friend.

· Yes, Harry answered and poured himself some of the hot water. "It was lying on the bed, I left it there when I packed my things."

He threw himself into one of the armchairs and put his feet up on the table.

· Do you think Dreadeye will find anything? Ron doubted.

· I don't know... it doesn't hurt to hurt, right?

"True," Ron agreed. "V-Voldemort is pretty predictable sometimes, isn't he?"

Harry and Hermione grinned and Ron blushed from ear to ear. He sat in silence for a while, staring in front of him, then suddenly spoke.

"I'm just… I'm just trying to be as brave as you…" he moaned, blushing even more. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

· Oh, Ron! You're not a coward because you didn't dare say his name until now. It's no wonder you didn't want to say it until now, since you've grown up not even mentioning this name since childhood.

With us, Harry and I, the situation is completely different. That's not brave enough to say… I only started saying his name so I could get Harry to give us Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons!

I didn't even dare to say it before, because it was the first thing that was hammered into my head when I entered the wizarding world...

· Ron, I'm only saying your name because I was eleven years old when I first heard about it - he took over and a lot of other things caught my attention. I simply didn't have the ability to say Harry - listen to him so I don't say it...

This put Ron in a slightly better mood, and he drank the contents of his glass in one gulp.

Harry thought about the former and something struck a nail in his head, and he put it into words: - When did this all begin…?

· What whole? Hermione shook her head.

· That people are afraid to say the name Voldemort.

Ron shrugged, indicating that he had no idea, but Hermione made a thoughtful face, and Harry was sure she was recalling one of the countless books she had read.

"You can't say exactly when it started," Hermione began to explain. - This was a long process, not a sudden decision. As far as I know… (Harry grinned: he was sure she knew well)… it started in the sixties, when Voldemort became an increasingly influential wizard in the Ministry, but his proposed reforms – dismissing muggleborns, taxing half-bloods, goblins, the House Elf Breeding Act - more and more people were turned against it…

· What kind of law? Ron interjected.

"The House-Elf Breeding Act," Hermione explained. – I read about it when I organized MAJOM.

The point was that the golden-blooded wizards wanted to further restrict the elves' freedom, even their free will, by breeding elves without any personality, emotionless machines... - Hermione shuddered at the thought. A chill ran down Harry's spine as well, and Dobby's face brightened before him, carrying out his master's orders with a blank look and a wooden face, like a zombie.

· So it became more and more common among people that they didn't even want to hear about Voldemort, and if they did have to talk about him, they called him "who knows" among themselves. At the time, Voldemort was already a senior member of the Department of Magical Control.

The other name, "He Who Shall Not Be Named", spread after the outbreak of the war. The Morning Prophet named it this way, although it was still used in official circles at the time.

· How did the war start? How did it even break out? Harry asked eagerly, leaning forward in his chair listening to Hermione's every word, just like Ron.

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· It happened that in 1970, Voldemort applied for one of the vacancies in the Wizengamot, you know, the court of wizards. Maybe this is how he wanted to gain more and more influence. But the head wizard of the Wizengamot at the time vetoed Voldemort's request when the rest of the committee had already accepted it. The archmage found out that Voldemort had intimidated the members of the court. He told him that they would not accept his application and never would, and even allegedly added that he should cover himself from the Ministry. Allegedly, it's because Voldemort slaughtered all fifty members of the committee, the entire board, there, in the seventh meeting room. Then the war officially began. On August 24, 1970.

Of course, nothing happened for weeks, people could hardly recover from their shock. They knew that Voldemort was a powerful wizard and that he had a sudden temper, but no one would have thought that he could single-handedly kill fifty mages, even the best of them.

Harry's mouth dropped open at what he heard, but he warned himself that he shouldn't be surprised by this. He knew what kind of man Voldemort was, but even so he was shocked by the fact of the fifty-fold murder.

"Without the Wizengamot and the archmage," Hermione continued,"it immediately caused a great deal of chaos and confusion." During the following weeks, it was Dumbledore and Bartemius Kupor who took control. Kupor led the investigation against Voldemort. The strange thing was that at that time the Death Eaters were not even charged, since they had not officially done anything illegal.

Dumbledore himself went in search of Voldemort and soon found him. Maybe he would have won if the Death Eaters hadn't shown up. Against four Death Eaters and Voldemort…" Hermione shook her head. "Not even Professor Dumbeldore could do anything." The fight ended in a draw and the following week the disappearances and assassinations began, the Dark Mark was then first seen in the sky... This went on for eleven years, when...

Harry nodded. Voldemort killed fifty members of the Wizengamot, but Dumbledore almost succeeded. Harry wondered if Dumbledore would have killed Voldemort given the chance. He remembered the duel in the atrium a year and a half ago, and what Dumbledore had said then: "I admit, I wouldn't be happy to just send you to your death..." Harry also remembered that Dumbledore had sent a powerful curse on Voldemort, and it was clear from the black magician's words who could have killed him.

"This is not an isolated incident," said Hermione suddenly. Harry and Ron looked at him in shock.

"I mean, they're afraid to say someone's name," she corrected herself after she remembered. - In ancient cultures, it was believed that the name given at birth should be kept secret, because it can be used against people, magically. There are such complicated potions that only affect a certain person, and for that you need the person's name... And in different religions, they don't even say the names of the god or gods, you know. And among muggles there was also such a case, when

they were afraid to say the name of a villain. For example, in the 1950s, a pair of brothers, the Kray brothers, ran amok in London and committed so many atrocities and murders that after a while they did not dare to say the name Kray.

Harry listened with half an ear to her words, his mind still revolving around Voldemort and Dumbledore.

"Speaking of names," said Ron after a long silence. "Did you find anything about your relatives on the family tree?" You know, I'd be interested to know if we're related... - he added with a grin.

Harry sighed and shook his head.

· Not much has been revealed... The only thing I know about the Potters is what Lupine and Sirius told me. My grandparents were already very old, well over a hundred, when father was born, and they died before I was born.

Ron and Hermione nodded but remained silent. Then another question popped into Harry's mind.

· Tell me, how is it that there are such old people among wizards? Dumbledore was well over a hundred too…

"He was exactly 157 years old," Hermione said with a smile.

· How can that be? Harry blinked. Ron answered the question: -

Wizards live much longer than muggles. It's because of magic. The average age is around one hundred years…

· For all wizards?

· Yes, yes, with all of them, so with Muggles as well - Ron winked at Hermione here. Hermione wasn't the least bit surprised by this information, and Harry was starting to feel a little embarrassed that there were still such general things he didn't know about the wizarding world.

He sipped his butterbeer, then leaned back in his chair, savoring it pleasantly. He looked at the family tree, observed the years under the names, and indeed, he observed several wizards older than a hundred years. He raised his eyebrows appreciatively and raised his glass to down another swig of invigorating butterbeer when his eyes wandered to the cabinet next to the tapestry and his hand caught in mid-air.

· Where did he go? said Harry suddenly.

· What is it? asked his two friends in unison.

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Harry stood up from his chair and looked around the room. His friends asked him again, Harry was already willing to answer.

· There was a knight's armor next to the tapestry - but now it has disappeared. Did you take him out of here?

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and shrugged.

· No, not at all. How much would we have taken...? Ron blinked.

Harry stared at the cool place of the armor as if expecting it to appear out of nowhere and say, Surprise! Since nothing of the sort happened, Harry drew his wand and headed out of the parlor.

· What are you doing? Hermione said after him.

Harry answered him from the door.

"Isn't that clear, Hermione?" - his voice was irritated. "It was crazy!" He knew we were going to leave here, and he broke in here and took her!

Hermione shook her head.

· Harry, I don't think Mundungus would have dared to steal you after what happened at Hogwarts...

However, Harry didn't listen to him, he kicked me out of the room, stomped down the stairs and went into the hall. Hermione and Ron hesitantly followed.

Arriving in the hall, Harry pointed his wand at a curtain that covered a large part of the wall. At the wave of the wand, the curtain parted and the screeching portrait of Mrs Black appeared behind it.

· Yeeeee...! How dare you disturb me, you half-blood worm! You dirty this house with the scum…

· SHUT UP! Harry snapped at him, and the painting actually stopped cursing for a moment, but then puffed itself up like an angry turkey to rain a barrage of words down its 'guests' again. Harry didn't wait for that, he continued right away.

· I think he is interested in the fact that while we were away, someone stole himself, his house was broken into!

The painted eyes widened with indignation.

"I want to know if you have seen or heard anyone walking around the house in the last week, Mrs Black?" Miraculously, the painting did not continue to scream, but answered the question.

· Yes, I saw it! the portrait spat the words, so violently that if it had been a living person, a sea of saliva would surely have splashed into Harry's face. "A short, black-clad figure walked around the noble mansion of my ancestors for three days, or for an hour!" I ordered him to disappear, but he had the nerve to continue trespassing! This is intolerable, shameless behavior! Get out of my house, you freaks! Mud-blooded scum…!

Harry had heard enough and nodded to Ron to help pull the curtain back in front of the painting.

· No! How dare you?! Get your dirty hands off him! Traitors…!

When the drapery was in place, the portrait fell silent, and Harry and his friends headed back into the drawing room. Harry was raging in anger on the way. Hermione, on the other hand, put on her usual 'I told you so' face.

"I told you it wasn't Mundungus," the girl said when they got upstairs. Harry couldn't believe his ears.

· What?! You heard it! They broke into the house and took the armor… Not that I'm all that sorry for a sleazy knight outfit, but I'm still sick of Mundungus! What will you take next? The table and the chairs?

· How many times do I have to say that it wasn't Mundungus? Hermione cut in angrily, her hand on her hip reminded Harry of Mrs Weasley. "He would have known not to make noise in the hall, not to wake up the painting, since he has been here a thousand times." Whoever the burglar was, he didn't know the Black house well.

Harry calmed down and slumped back into his armchair when he reached the drawing room. Ron thought with a frown.

· Then who could it be? the red-haired boy shook his head. "Who else would break into the house to take a suit of knight's armor?"

Hermione shrugged, but Harry thought of something and spoke immediately.

· Bellatrix.

· Lestrange? Hermione raised her head, her voice ringing with fear. "Who killed Sirius?" Harry nodded grimly. Ron also sat down in an armchair.

"Dumbledore told me when he told me about Sirius's will..." Harry explained and took a sip of his butterbeer. "Sirius left everything to me, but according to the law of inheritance, everything would go to Bellatrix Lestrange." Sipor obeys me, but Dumbledore didn't know if Bellatrix wouldn't still have power over the house…

That's why they had to leave the headquarters.

Hermione gulped dramatically – she was clearly afraid of the woman who claimed to be Voldemort's number one apprentice.

Harry sighed and rubbed his scar worriedly.

"I know what you're thinking," he continued as he looked at his friend. "We'd better leave this house as soon as possible." It's no longer safe.

Ron nodded and Hermione belatedly agreed.

· We can go to the orphanage tomorrow, right? Ron asked. "Whatever we find there, we have to move on..."

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"Say to Prewett House," Hermione continued. - Now we can also participate in the meetings, and it is the safest place to plan further actions. From there we can start looking for Horcruxes.

Harry smiled, but only faintly. There was no joy in his smile. He yawned spectacularly.

· I think I'll put myself away for tomorrow. he muttered and got up from the armchair. "Good night!"

Harry went straight from the drawing room to his room, which was also Sirius's old room, but there was no sign that his godfather had ever lived there. The furnishings were rather puritanical in contrast to the rest of the noble and rich house. The furnishings consisted of only a large bed, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers.

Harry aimed for the latter when he entered the room. He had noticed earlier that Sirius kept his pair of twin mirrors here, and that was what Harry needed the most right now. He took the small mirror out of the top drawer, dusted it, then walked with it to the bed. He lay on his stomach on the bed and looked in the mirror.

"Ginny..." Harry said hesitantly. "Gineva Weasley, are you there?"

The image suddenly changed, and Harry no longer saw his own pale reflection, but a red-haired girl with a freckled face appeared in the mirror.

· Harry! Ginny grinned. "This mirror is fantastic!" When you called, it started to glow, and then I saw your face in it...

· Ginny, I'd like you to give McGonagall a message tomorrow. "I'm listening," Ginny said, blinking her big brown eyes.

"Tomorrow morning, Hermione, Ron and I will go to the orphanage, but then, maybe a day or two later, we will go back to the Prewett house." And please also tell him to have Mordon put a protective ring around House Black like the one around the new headquarters. I think we will need it…

Ginny's eyes widened in fright.

· Are there Death Eaters near you?!

"No, no," Harry hurried to reassure the girl, "just a little extra security would be nice..."

· Good, fine, I'll give it to you - smiled Ginny, then added: - I miss you.

· Already? We only left in the afternoon! Harry laughed. "Ginny, I promise we'll meet again soon." There will be times when we have to go to Hogwarts, I'm sure. Especially now that I've also initiated McGonagall.

· Okay... Have nice dreams!

· You too!

In the next moment, the mirror went dark, and after it cleared, a boy with glasses and messy hair yawned back at Harry.

On Monday morning, the group of three got up at nine, after a quick wash and breakfast, they dressed in muggle clothes so as not to cause a sensation on the streets of London. Harry wore his usual worn jeans and black t-shirt, which made him a dangerous hooligan to the well-to-do families of Little Whinging.

The weather was bad as usual, although the sun appeared from among the clouds, miraculously. However, the rain only stopped for a few minutes at best, no longer. When Harry, Ron and Hermione walked out the door and performed the door locking charm, they found themselves in the usual unpopulated Grimmauld Square. Only a few children in raincoats were hanging around on the other side of the square.

· Dementors fly low. It's going to rain, Ron remarked looking up at the sky and Harry and Hermione stifled a laugh.

Indeed, far on the horizon, a few Dementors could be seen gliding through the sky like evil bats.

Wherever they went, the clouds thickened, everything was covered in shadows, and soon rain or hailstorms took their toll on the nerves.

"Wait here, I'll be right back," Hermione said and left the two boys at the wooden picture, who watched with their hands in their pockets and their wands at the ready, as the girl hurried towards the ancient, red phone booth in the middle of the square.

According to the agreed plan, Hermione called the search engine so that they could find the exact address and name of the orphanage. There was only one street name available to them, which Harry remembered from the time he and Dumbledore looked at one of Tom Denem's early memories in the medley.

Hermione returned five minutes later with a big smile on her face.

· Got it! he announced cheerfully and waved a piece of parchment in front of Harry's nose. - Here is the address and the name: Szent Ferenc Children's Home. The XIX It's been around since the middle of the 20th century, and it's the only orphanage in the area, so... -... we're good to go! Ron finished the

sentence. "You're good." Where did you learn to telethon so well?

Hermione let out a snickering little laugh, then put her arms around Ron and the three good friends headed for the nearest subway exit. It took them a good half hour to get to the subway, and then buying tickets and finding the right platform (all of which Hermione directed

· Harry darkly scanned the crowd, looking for familiar or suspicious faces; Ron was too busy wondering) took another thirty minutes. , and the trip

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compared to that, it took a very short time. At half past twelve they were already on the escalator towards the surface, and soon they came out into the pouring rain.

From the subway station, they still had to walk twenty minutes, which they did on a crowded main road, loud with car horns and the noise of crowds of people, and then they turned into a quieter street, which, according to the inquiry, also contained the orphanage. The street had changed a lot since Harry had last 'visited' it, as it had been nearly sixty years since then. In the small street no longer was a horse-drawn milk cart rolling, but a food delivery truck was purring, instead of birds chirping the noise of cars was heard, the cobbled road was replaced by cracked asphalt here and there, and as he noticed the three punk boys hanging around nearby, Harry thought it wouldn't cause much of a stir either. among the people, if a man with long hair and a beard, dressed in a plum-colored velvet coat, walked this way.

At the end of the street, they came to a small square, most of which was occupied by an old building that had recently been renovated. A black sign on the facade of the building announced:

Saint Francis Children's Home Founded in 1837

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then Harry nodded for them to go inside. However, his apparent indifference was not real, for he was seized with a strange anxiety as he looked at the building. Ron walked towards the front door with determined steps, but Hermione noticed something in Harry's eyes because he looked at her hesitantly, and only left when Harry shook his head as a sign.

Passing through the black wrought iron gate in front of the building, they arrived at the entrance after climbing a few steps. Harry rang the bell and a few seconds later the door opened.

· Good day, how can I help you? asked kindly an old man wearing a checkered shirt and gray trousers pulled up high. He's probably the janitor, Harry thought. Children's squeals and the clatter of plates could be heard from inside, the residents of the orphanage were having lunch.

· Good day! We uhmm... we want to talk to the head of the orphanage. The old man looked them over, then asked in a cracking voice: - Did they discuss the date in advance? - Ummm…

no…

"Yes, of course we discussed it," Hermione took over, and Harry instinctively covered his mouth, "please let the headmaster know that Hermione Granger has arrived."

The old man furrowed his brows and shuffled inside from the door, into the small porter's booth behind the entrance. He awkwardly pulled a drawer out of the rickety desk and took out a notepad.

"Hmmm… Granger, Granger… I don't see a name like that," he muttered after skimming through the notepad. Hermione did not despair, standing next to the old man and looking over his shoulder into the notebook.

· Would you look at it again, please? It would be very important for me to talk to him. If an administrative error occurred...

· Come on, I'll run through it tonight, if you'll excuse me, it's so important...

Harry and Ron watched with open mouths as she imperceptibly drew her wand forward and pointed it at the notebook out of sight of the janitor. The tip of the wand flared for a moment, then died, and Hermione returned it to her pocket as if she had done her job well.

· Damn it! said the old man suddenly. "Here's her name, Miss, the little devil must have realized that I didn't notice it before."

"It's okay, things like that happen," smiled Hermione kindly, and the old man put the notepad away. "Would you please tell me about our arrival?"

· Of course, how about, already - muttered the old man and picked up the receiver of the black telephone resting on the table with a snail's pace. As she spoke, Hermione turned around and winked cheerfully at the surprised Harry and Ron, and after the doorman told them to meet them in the office on the first floor to the right, the three good friends headed for the stairs with Hermione leading the way.

Reaching the door, Hermione knocked, then at the call of a hoarse, female voice, they entered the office with black and white flooring and simple furnishings, which was also a kind of lounge. According to Harry's memories, this was the only part of the orphanage that he had seen so far that remained almost unchanged. The lady sitting in the director's chair had changed, instead of the thin, strict boss woman who worked here in the thirties, they were now greeted by an overweight, comfortable, but at first glance nice woman.

· Oh, good day, Miss… um… Graner? Am I right? the director greeted the girl. "I'm Granger, ma'am." And they are my cousins, Ronald and James.

Harry raised one eyebrow in surprise, but the fat lady thankfully ignored it completely.

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· I'm glad! I'm Martha Jones, the director of the children's home, but my title is mostly headmistress. You know, this was left over from the time when the orphanage was owned by the church, but... alas, why bother you, take a seat!

The Harrys sat next to each other on one of the couches, which was in the exact spot where Dumbledore had been offered a seat by the headmistress at the time on the couch at the time.

· You know, miss, my name memory is bad, so I don't remember exactly what we discussed... - the lady said.

· We are looking for information about a certain Tom Rowle Denem, who used to live in this orphanage from 1928 to 1944 to be exact. - Are you the relatives of this

Denem? asked Miss Jones.

Ron barely perceptibly shuddered at the thought - not so Hermione, who accepted the occasion: - Yes, he was our

grandfather. The poor man died last year, but we know almost nothing about him, our grandmother also passed away a long time ago. this is

the only place where they can get to know him better - Miss Jones nodded sympathetically. "There's nothing wrong with them looking around the archives, but unfortunately I can't help you because I'm busy with work," the boss sighed worriedly. - Our children have been behaving more and more strangely lately, the bad weather must be the reason, they might have picked up a virus, and the health workers are wringing my neck.

· A virus? You mean the children are sick? Harry shook his head.

Miss Jones then turned her fat head towards him, as if she had just noticed Harry.

· Well, I wouldn't say they're sick, they're more like... strange - he explained unwillingly. "You know how it is, young man!" In today's fast-paced world, it's no wonder that some people become depressed, but it's still strange when it happens in an orphanage, and in large numbers... Well, I won't keep you waiting any longer, I'll accompany you to the archives, and then, if you're not angry, I'll come back to work.

· Of course... thank you! Hermione said, then they got up from the couch and followed the headmistress out of the office.

They were going down the stairs, when a little girl with long, brown hair, who couldn't have been more than six years old, came to meet them from the ground floor.

· Miss Jones, Miss Jones! the little girl squealed. "Come quickly, Tommy Parker's got a meatball stuck in his throat and he's about to choke!"

Ron stifled a laugh as Hermione gave him stern eyes.

· Oh, fine, I'm coming Paulina... - the headmistress wringed her hands. Apparently he didn't like problems waiting for a solution like this. He hobbled around for a moment, then turned to the Harrys. "I hope they'll forgive me, but I have to hurry." When they go down a level, turn left. The door at the end of the corridor is the file cabinet, there you will find everything you need! - he hurried after the little girl, who pulled the lady's stout hand and tried to encourage him to hurry.

Hermione shook her head, then nodded to Harry and they went about their business. They were already in formation when Ron broke the silence.

· Did you hear what he said about depressed children? It must be the Dementors! They are lurking over the city here, that could be the reason.

"Yeah, probably…" Hermione nodded. - Dementors affect everyone. Muggles can't see them, but they feel their presence. And children are said to be even more sensitive to them, in fact some muggle children are able to see them. Of course, not their full reality, but a blurred shadow or something similar.

Kind of like quibbles.

The Harrys reached the last door in the dark corridor, Hermione leading the way opened it without hesitation. They were immediately hit by the musty smell and the dust that nicely covered every square centimeter of the shelves in the large room.

· Well then, let's search! Ron clapped his hands together and started towards the nearest shelf.

It soon became clear that the many documents and boxes were arranged in alphabetical order, so Harry, Ron and Hermione shared the letters D among themselves. The work went quickly, but the initial enthusiasm soon waned, and by the time they had

finished examining the documents and boxes (they kept the orphans' personal belongings and photographs), they were disappointed to find that they did not write about a single person named Denem.

"Perhaps Dumbledore took the documents," suggested Ron, annoyance mixed into his voice. "He must have looked over this place too..."

"Maybe," Harry grumbled, and he too was angry at the failure.

However, Hermione did not give up the search so easily, she examined the letters C and E with visible determination.

· I wonder if he got mixed up among them by accident... - he explained, then when he pushed aside a pile of crates on row C, he suddenly pulled away from the row, stopped all searches and spectacularly slapped him on the forehead. "Oh, of course..."

Ron and Harry shared a look.

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"I hate it when you do that," Ron commented, but Hermione didn't bother. He stepped out of the shelves and headed for the other end of the room. Harry and Ron followed without further comment.

At the end of the filing cabinet stood a dilapidated, ancient-looking wooden chest of drawers with a golden letter on each drawer.

· It's clear that we didn't find anything about Tom Denem there.

It was not at all clear to Harry, but Hermione continued: - When a child officially

becomes a member of the wizarding world, all his data, ID, birth certificate, all official documents of his birth are taken over by the Ministry workers, and he disappears in the muggle world as if he never existed. It was the same with me, when it turned out that I was a witch when I was seven years old, a wizard from the ministry visited my parents and explained everything. The mothers had to ask for all my documents from my school and from our family doctor as well, since there could be quite a stir if the education department harassed people because their child did not go to a muggle school.

In front of the cupboard, Harry noticed a line scratched into the stone floor of the room – a magical boundary that surrounded the cupboard. Harry suspected it was to prevent muggles from noticing the filing cabinet.

Ron walked over to the cupboard and pulled out the letter D drawer, then after a short search he shouted.

· Got it! Denem is here! - he was holding a brown file with faded papers and a black and white photograph - which was strangely a completely ordinary muggle picture, the tall, pale boy in it was not moving. The photo could have actually been here when Denem accepted Hogwarts admission and officially became a wizard.

Without hesitation, Ron handed the papers to Harry, who quickly skimmed them all. The first was a birth certificate, but only the boy's name and date of birth were on it, the parents' information was missing. On the second page, the boy's educational data were listed, the first being those he had obtained in the orphanage until he was eleven years old.

Harry wasn't surprised that Denem excelled in everything, he got the best grades in mathematics, environmental science, English

language and literature, history and physical education. Based on the teacher's note, the young Voldemort showed a special interest in history.

After the fifth grade, there were no more teacher's notes or grades, in the sixth grade only a short sentence indicated that Tom Denem was continuing his studies at Hogwarts private school.

On the third sheet, Harry expected Hogwarts information to be on it, but when he saw that it only had dates and names on it, he realized he had been ill-advised. The Hogwarts data could not be included in this filing cabinet, since only the data of the wizards in the orphanage were listed here, nothing more. And there weren't many such wizards – while Harry was reading, Ron opened the other drawers one by one, but only found files in some of them.

The last sheet Harry was holding contained Denem's accidents, injuries, a vaccination certificate, punishments (there weren't many) and other notes. The latter were the most interesting - at least to the Harrys, who had come here for just such information.

The comments of some of the teachers were noted, one of them wrote: "He is a talented boy, but very disobedient, there may be problems with his behavior." And another said: "He is extremely receptive to history and excels in physical education." But there were also much more bizarre and surprising comments, one or two educators wrote strange things about Denem: "I get the chills out of him every time he looks into my eyes. It's like measuring. Like a zoo wolf from beyond the bars." The listed punishments that Denem received were mostly due to things like lying to one of his teachers or being caught cheating on one of his peers. For the most part, these were characteristic of Voldemort when he was very young, six or eight years old, and they occurred less and less in the later years, and Harry was not even surprised by this. As Denem became more skilled and confident, and learned about his own special abilities, he was caught less and less often.

In his older years at Hogwarts, there were two entries, one of which was due to the abuse of a boy, and the other occurred during his last year at the orphanage, in 1944, and apparently disturbed the relative calm of the orphanage. In this case, there was no personal note, only a date and a name: "1944. 28 December – 12 July 1946. Serious abuse: Emily Higgins and Rose Montgomery – police investigation begins 20 July 1946."

· What is this? Harry frowned. "What could he have done that even the muggle police noticed him?" And this was long after he left the orphanage.

· I'm going to look for these two names... - said Ron and started to leave, but Hermione stopped him: - Invito

Higgins file! Invito Montgomery file! he shouted, and in the next moment a yellow file and a cardboard box flew into his hands. Hermione almost dropped it, but Ron helped her catch it.

"You should have thought of that before," Harry remarked.

· Just like you! she retorted.

Ron grabbed the file from her hand and ran through it.

"Ugh..." he moaned after reading the report. "I'm not surprised the muggles noticed him." Harry, I think Voldemort wiped out this girl…

· What is it?

Harry and Hermione moved closer to their friend and they too began to read the third page of the file.

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· It says that this Emily Higgins and her girlfriend, this Rose Montgomery, disappeared on Christmas '44 and were last seen with Denem, who came back from his boarding school... Wait! What were you doing here for Christmas anyway? After all, he didn't even want to come back here in the summer!

"Read on, Ron," Hermione warned, then she continued for Ron. "Rose and Emily were nine years old at the time and disappeared, along with Denem." That's when Dene was last seen at the orphanage. Emily was reported missing and then dead. - And the other girl? Harry asked, opening the cardboard box.

· They don't write about him here, maybe in his file. And

indeed: the first thing that came out of the box was a pile of documents, and the Harrys immediately threw themselves at it. "It says the same thing here," Hermione ran through the official text. "But listen: he says Rose Montgomery was later found wandering the streets of London...two years after the incident!"

· Where was he until then? Ron cooed.

· It says that the little girl didn't remember anything about the past two years - I think it's clear: Voldemort erased her memories. Hermione continued after a short pause. - She was found in her old orphanage clothes and only had a necklace with her.

· What did this monster do to them? Harry whispered and shook his head as if trying to shake the bad thoughts out of him.

· They never found out. The investigation was closed because they had no evidence against Denem - Hermione meanwhile took the box back from Harry and looked at its contents. It contained only a torn ragdoll and a necklace from a bazaar.

"Huh..." Hermione whispered as she held the necklace in her palm. "Wow… this… this is magical!"

· Us?

· This necklace is magical, I can feel how it tingles... quite strongly, check it out!

With that, he handed the necklace to Ron, who also immediately felt the presence of the magic. It was Harry's turn last, but then Hermione already had the wand in her hand and nailed it to the necklace. Harry also felt that something was wrong with the little bizzu. It clung to his skin in a strange way, not just lying on his palm, but smoothed right into his hand.

· Demonstrate!

As a result of the charm, the well-known thick smoke billowed from the jewelry and, to the great surprise of all of them, formed a face: that of a thin, brown-haired girl.

· It's a horcrux! Ron exclaimed.

· Sssssss! Don't be so loud! Hermione scolded and blew away the smoke. "Yes, it is, but not Voldemort's, but Rose Montgomery's."

· How can that be? Harry breathed in shock.

Hermione shook her head, thinking for a long time, as did Harry and Ron, but she was the first to put her opinion into words.

· They say that Denem took them away in '44? - Hermione asked, then Ron nodded and continued: - Then it happened after Voldemort found out about the Horcruxes. He was six years old when he talked to Slughorn about it, and he made the diary when he was seven years old, with the first soul dismemberment.

I think he came back to the orphanage to find someone to try Horcrux making on… he certainly didn't immediately experiment on his own soul when he couldn't even be sure if the magic was working. And… and Emily, the other little girl… she wasn't found because Voldemort killed her so that he could cut Rose Montgomery's soul in half through her sacrifice.

Then… then… he closed it for two years. He closed it to see if his experiment was successful. And when he saw the horcrux working, he let it out…

Harry then shook his head: -

No, Hermione, you just said it before, he already prepared the diary at the age of seven. He didn't wait two years to find out. Then why did he keep it there for so long...?

· How do I know?! Hermione snapped so suddenly that Harry and Ron flinched. "How could I know what such a madman is thinking?"

Harry was speechless for a moment. They didn't realize how much Hermione was touched by this new information. He was visibly upset by the fact that Voldemort had killed a nine-year-old girl in cold blood when he was seventeen.

· Sorry, don't be angry, I just…

Hermione took out a tissue and blew her nose.

· Let's get out of here - he said in a hoarse voice. "We found what we were looking for...and more." Just… let's just get out of here.

Harry and Ron nodded and packed up the documents they found, the toy doll and the necklace and put them all in the Bottomless Sack they had brought with them in case they needed it later.

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Reaching the ground floor, Hermione sat down on one of the steps and watched the children hurry to their rooms. Harry and Ron didn't say a word, letting her vent. He wasn't alone in this, Harry also felt that he could use some fresh air. Since they currently lacked that between the closed walls, he thought cold water would do the trick.

· I'll be right back, I'll just look for the bathroom... - he said to his friends, then started down the corridor and soon found a boys' toilet. He opened the door, where he was greeted by a pleasant coolness, and went to the sink to splash some water on his face - that's when he noticed the strange sounds.

Someone was crying in one of the booths. He immediately determined that it could be a little boy, someone must have hurt him... Harry walked up to the booth and knocked on it.

No answer.

He knocked again - but the boy didn't answer this time either.

Harry carefully opened the door and the next moment he was backed up against the wall in terror. As the door opened, the pleasant coolness turned into a shivering cold in a single second, and Harry's heart immediately burst out of the little serenity that remained after what he had heard in the file cabinet.

"Ejnye, you can do better than that," a mocking male voice was heard in Harry's ear, followed by a triumphant squeal - the evil cry of a woman.

After that, a sharp scream pierced the air, which turned into crying and wailing: - The monsters again! The monsters! Miss Jones! The monsters!

"Don't Harry, don't Harry, I'm begging you, have mercy..." came a completely different female voice, and Harry dully felt his head hit the tile and everything went dark in front of him. His fainting lasted only a moment, a loud crash and a blinding

light brought him back to reality. A small black and white spotted dog ran towards him from the door, and with every step the animal took, more and more life force returned to Harry's limbs.

A huge bang shook the toilet, then pieces of glass and tiles fell to the floor next to Harry.

· Harry! Harry! Ron, what happened?

Harry's vision cleared completely, the wailing in his ears died away, and the crying of the boy crouched in the toilet across from him, the shrill voice of a little girl shouting about monsters, and Hermione's worried questions returned.

"It was a Dementor..." Ron gasped in a whisper. "I chased him away… he left through the window."

Harry turned his head around, but at the first movement everything in front of him blurred. Hermione felt an arm around her waist, pulling her out of her dizziness. Now he noticed the white glowing speckled puppy, which was jumping in front of his feet and wagging his tail, but in the process it was fading from moment to moment.

Outside the toilet, there was complete confusion and frightened shouting, caused by several things: the blinding light that accompanied the appearance of Ron's patron and the crash as the fleeing dementor tore the toilet window and the grate from the wall.

· What is this? What's going on here? – the confused Miss Jones appeared at the door, next to her was the brown-haired girl who was last seen on the stairs, when she called the headmistress to save the boy who was choking on the meatballs.

Hermione didn't even praise him for an answer, instead she helped Harry to his feet, who wobbled but stood on his feet. Ron was still visibly confused by what had just happened, but Harry vowed to himself that he would buy his friend an entire case of butterbeer for reacting so quickly and with such aplomb.

· What did you do? What was that light? What… what…?

To the surprise of her friends, Hermione grabbed her wand and pointed it at the headmistress before she could even blink.

· Exmemoriam! she shouted, as Miss Jones's face darkened and she stared into nothing with a dreamy look.

· What did you do with it? asked the little girl in a frightened, whimpering voice. "Did you chase the monsters away?"

Hermione put her wand away and crouched down next to the little girl.

· What's your name, baby? he asked kindly.

· Paulina - the girl chirped. —Paulina Puckett.

· You have a nice name... and say, Paulina, you see these monsters, don't you? Paulina nodded, and after a short pause she answered.

· Yes, but no one believes me. They say I'm a liar, but I'm not! Do you see them too? Hermione smiled.

· Yes, baby, me too. And if you want to know what they are, come with us. I will take care of you, and if you want, I know someone who would be happy to raise such a beautiful little girl.

The little girl's eyes widened, as did Harry and Ron. Harry would have opened his mouth that what Hermione was up to would exhaust the concept of child abduction, but when she looked at them with a face that could not be contradicted and announced that they were going back to the Black house, Harry did not feel like contradicting, nor did Ron, who he was just beginning to recover from his shock. He knew that Hermione was in a mood right now where she could break any human written rules and laws without a second thought to follow her heart.

Harry gathered himself, dusted off his clothes, Ron put his wand back in his pocket, and Hermione picked up little Paulina.

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· Oh, you little bag of salt! Hermione smiled and with her two friends following her, she stepped out among some wondering children and headed towards the street, then they looked for a safe alley and waved down the Stray Grimbus, which Paulina accompanied with enthusiastic squeals and lively questioning along the way home.

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Chapter 13

To Caramel with love

· Are you really wizards? Seriously? But… but Mrs Fillis said there were no wizards and witches except in fairy tales…

Harry, Ron, Hermione and little Paulina were sitting in the kitchen of the Black house, and the three good friends had already been explaining to the little girl for about half an hour who they were and why they had brought them with them. However, the little girl had a tendency to ask the same question over and over again, which Harry and Ron were getting bored of, but Hermione answered Paulina with the patience of a sheep.

"Did Mrs. Fillis say the same about monsters?" Hermione asked back with a smile. "You know, Paulina, if there are monsters, there are people who fight against them." - And why haven't you come yet? Those

monsters have been here for a very long time, but so far no wizard has come to help…

· This could be because wizards don't know everything either. Unfortunately, we didn't know until now that they also visit the orphanage.

Paulina knelt on one of the chairs, so she could only reach the high table, where her newest favorite candy, a chocolate frog, was jumping. Paulina refused to eat the frog, but laughed out loud at the enchanted delicacy. - And… and I'm a wizard too?

Paulina glared at Hermione.

· Witch, baby. You are a witch. And beyond that, you can be among people who are like you. We believe in you and will help you in everything.

Paulina didn't say anything, she just smiled, but her smile contained everything. Harry looked at his watch and Hermione did the same.

· My God, it's nine o'clock! Time to sleep, Paulina. Tomorrow is a new day, we have a lot to do. Come on...

Hermione went to Paulina and took the little girl by the hand. From the stairs they said goodbye to Harry and Ron, who remained at the table - not by chance. As soon as Hermione escorted the little girl up, Ron took the files he had brought from the Bottomless Bag.

· Is everything here? Harry asked, but Ron just gave him a reproachful look. "Sorry..." Harry added, then took the papers about Rose Montgomery.

He immediately picked up the third page, which contained notes about her disappearance. He read the copy of the police report again, but noticed nothing new. No wonder the police did nothing with the investigation. When a person's memories are erased, there is only one way to get them back: the Cruciatus Curse. And that's not part of Scotland Yard's usual crime-fighting methods - or even Auror Command.

· Wow! said Ron suddenly, who was reading the rest of the document. "Harry, look at this!"

Ron pointed to the last entry in her study paper. There were grades up to the fifth grade, with a gap of two years. After that, there

was a template text on the label of the sixth grade: "The student continues his studies at the Hogwarts private school from September 1947."

· What?! Harry was shocked. "How can that be?" His paper was not among mages. He was among the muggles! Ron shook his head in confusion.

"Do you think there could be a muggle school with that name?" - Ah, I don't think so... That would be quite strange.

Harry ran through the data once more as if looking for some hidden clue.

· According to them, she was a witch and there might have been some mix-up in her papers... maybe because of the kidnapping. Just look: he was a freshman in '47, at the age of twelve.

Harry put the paper down and twirled the horcrux necklace between his fingers. He leaned back and started rocking the chair, thinking aloud. - We're not getting

anywhere like this... there was nothing in the orphanage that would lead to the goblet. There was the incident when he hurt the two children, but nothing else...

The light of the candle glimmered on the necklace, reflecting in Harry and Ron's eyes like the flame of a small candle. "But… but the horcrux…" Harry continued. "Ron, this is an intact horcrux." And that means its owner is still alive!

Ron frowned and then turned to Harry.

· Isn't it the case that only the seven horcruxes give immortality?

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· Only seven horcruxes give eternal life - at least according to Voldemort. But as long as he doesn't die of old age, a horcrux will keep him

alive. Voldemort didn't even have all seven when his body crumbled to dust! And Rose can still live! He would now be…er…seventy-two years old.

Harry leaned forward in his chair and looked into Ron's eyes.

· We have to find him! He is the only clue that can lead to the horcrux! Voldemort kept it with him for two years and during these two years both the goblet and the pendant were completed. He is the key, we need him. Dumbledore must have been looking for him too

would... just...

Ron nodded and poked the corner of the table with his fingernail. Harry took a swig from the butterbeer bottle and started rocking the chair again.

· Be careful, because you'll break your neck! Ron said. "Only Voldemort can break that," Harry grinned evilly. Ron shuddered.

· We should go to the Ministry... - suggested the boy. - Father told me that the Department for the Prosecution of Magical Crimes has a Registry Department where the information of all wizards and witches can be found. We should look around there.

"Yes, that's a good idea," Harry replied. "Tomorrow Hermione will take the little girl to the Prewett house, Mordon will prepare the line, and on Wednesday we can visit the Ministry." But just be careful… I don't want Scrimgeur to know we're there.

· You should also tell the Order.

Harry nodded in agreement and went to search one of the Bags for the oops letters they had received from McGonagall on Sunday afternoon.

· Great, we can finally try these things! Ron clapped his hands together.

· What's so great about letter writing? Harry raised his eyebrows, then sat down at the table and unwrapped an envelope.

From it, a sheet of parchment with a greenish shimmering color was revealed. Harry conjured pen and ink and began to collect his thoughts.

· What's so great about it is that it's completely new! It will make sending letters amazingly fast, revolutionize the magic post offices, and everything...

Harry momentarily forgot what he was going to write as a new thought popped into his head.

· Then the owl breeders will not be very happy about this... - he remarked quietly.

Ron was visibly embarrassed and the excited smile on his face faded a little. - Um... well,

yes... But this is progress, isn't it? Sacrifices have to be made... It was a long time ago, when spanners were invented and the market for traditional means of transport declined. You know, the flying chariots, flying sailboats, they traveled the world with them... - Umm.

Harry started clawing as Ron continued to explain about wizards' travels, owls and letters. When Harry finished writing the letter, he read it over again.

Mrs Weasley!

We'll see each other soon though, Hermione is coming to the Prewett house tomorrow with a guest, and Ron and I will be coming soon after. Please let Lupin, Mr. Mordon, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley know that they will all be at HQ in a few days. And if Mr. Mordon is available tomorrow, please tell him to come over to the Black house

sometime in the morning.

Thanks to: Harry

Satisfied with the result, he removed the writing implement, then carefully slipped the letter into the envelope and sealed it with his wand.

· So how do you do it now? - he asked the question to himself, but Ron answered him immediately: - Light a fire with your wand... But first write the name on the envelope! he quickly added when he noticed that Harry had forgotten the address.

· Yes, of course...

After that, Harry conjured fire, said the address (Prewett House!), and when the envelope touched the flames, it blazed green in an instant and disappeared - not even ashes were left behind.

"Hmmm… I hope it worked," Ron muttered, and Harry swung his wand again.

· Archisellium!

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POOF! As a result of the spell, an elegant, red-green striped, cushioned armchair appears next to the table. Harry yawned and then turned to Ron who was hanging around hesitantly.

· Just go to sleep. I'll be down here...

· Are you sure this is a good idea? Ron worried. "Sure," Harry waved. "Just go..."

· Well... Good night!

Ron went up the stairs, but Harry didn't hear him close the door behind him - he left it open so he could hear if anything happened. Harry sat back comfortably in the armchair and put his feet up on a crate, wand in hand, wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes.

He didn't dream for a long time, his mind was constantly on what had happened, on Rose Montgomery, the latest horcrux, and the dementor attack. He recalled the man's voice shouting something mockingly. It took him a long time to figure out who the man was and who he was talking to. It was Sirius, and that was the last thing that came out of his mouth. It had happened in the Hall of Death that horrible night, and Harry hadn't heard her voice in two years. Sirius addressed his last words to his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange…

Lestrange…

Harry almost wanted to run into her and get revenge. He will seek revenge for everything… Neville's parents, Sirius, everyone, even the armor. You will bitterly regret it…

In his sleep, Harry returned to the orphanage, whose twisted, dark corridors he hopelessly searched for a way out. Paulina appeared in front of him and told Harry to come quickly because Hermione had the chocolate frog stuck in her throat and all she could do was cry. Harry hurried after the little girl who led him to Umbridge. The Hogwarts Chief Inspector was braying loudly and sitting on top of a pile of severed goblin heads. "Lying is a crime, Harry!" Goblins always lie…" Umbridge snapped in Hermione's voice. In the next moment, an ancient knight's armor shuffled towards Harry, awkwardly raised a huge pallos and slammed it down on Harry's head…

Harry woke up at that moment. He half slid off the armchair, lying in it rather than sitting, and his back ached from the uncomfortable position. He forced himself into a sitting position, then stood up to stretch his limbs.

That's when he noticed the green glow.

· What the…?

He pointed his wand forward, which he clutched in his hand all the time while sleeping - he had already developed the instincts that the wand should never be let go.

The lights were coming from across the table, and it took Harry, rubbing his eyes, a moment to realize that the fire in the fireplace was glowing green. Stepping in front of the fireplace, he saw a room with a dark outline among the flames, the parquet flooring of which was the most visible. At that moment, the flames shot up and a smoldering envelope hit Harry on the chest.

He wiped the sweat from his face and began to open the envelope.

Potter!

I got the message, everything is fine. I will arrive tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. In the meantime, UNRELEASED VIGILANCE! Regards: Alastor ui: I

wonder who you have gathered again.

Harry crumpled the envelope into his pocket with a smile, then looked at his watch. It showed three in the morning. He decided that it was

not worth going back to sleep now, it was better to stay awake and wait for the others to wake up. Ron's loud snoring could be heard from above.

He walked over to the table, where he poured himself a cup of tea from the hastily conjured pot, then plopped down on one of the chairs. Tomorrow they will finally be safe, Bellatrix won't set foot here again.

The only thing that bothered him were the outlines of the room and its familiar parquet floor, which shone through the green flames. It

was not the living room of the Prewett house. Harry knew that place well, having been there three times already: the huge atrium of the Ministry…

Mordon arrived at the Black house at the appointed time on Tuesday morning, and first scared little Paulina to death with his incessantly rolling eyes, and then caused the little girl to convulse with loud laughter.

· So he is that certain guest... - the old man nodded his head smiling. "Molly will be delighted."

After the old man arrived, he sat down at the table and Harry and Ron began to drink from a whiskey bottle while Hermione and Paulina were in their room preparing for the trip.

· How did the investigation go, guys? Mordon asked after the second glass.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and then moved their chairs closer to the table.

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"We found… someone," Ron began. "A witch called Rose Montgomery, and Voldemort probably tried Horcrux making on her."

Mordon whistled barely audibly, then frowned and noted: - Montgomery,

Montgomery... there is such a wizarding family, if my memory serves me right. I dealt with them last year.

Harry and Ron snapped their heads up briskly.

· That bastard Fenrir Grayback - Mordon said the beastly werewolf's name almost gritting his teeth - bit their youngest son. The child died from his injuries... You know, their parents refused to serve the Death Eaters.

· Are you saying the Montgomerys are golden blooded? Harry inquired.

· Yes, yes, they are…

"It's rather strange then that Rose ended up in a Muggle orphanage, isn't it?" Mordon shrugged and sipped from his glass.

· This will be your business, boys. Do you want to know what I came up with? Harry and Ron nodded profusely and gave the auror their full attention.

· I looked after that stamper. I went to see the wizard who also made the Hogwarts signet presses, and that young man told me that the star pattern signet press you found did not belong to a family, but was one of Hogwarts' old belongings.

Harry's jaw dropped and he was about to interrupt, but Mordon continued.

· Very strange things have come to light, Potter, keep your ears open! the old auror lowered his voice mysteriously. – It is typical for school presses that each teaching position has a different sealer, the star-patterned piece sealed the sheet for the astronomy teachers. When a teacher accepts a job at Hogwarts, their form is stamped with the appropriate stamp and they sign that form. And the old Scarecrow realized something here!

Mordon winked somewhat grotesquely with his good eye and grinned as he continued: - I

found out that scumbag You-know-how cursed the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers! When I signed the contract that I would accept the position, the subject's seal bloomed on the page, two crossed wands surrounded by a snake. And now I finally realized that it wasn't the subject that was cursed by Who Knows, but the stamper! The one on whose sheet the cursed sealer is pressed, and he signs that sheet, the curse falls on him!

Ron and Harry looked at each other in horror and interrupted each other to ask about Fleur.

· De Fleur… õ is…

· His paper with which...?

· Doesn't the curse affect him...?

· Something must be done!

Mordon beckoned them to silence with a gnarled hand.

· No, calm down. Your sister-in-law will be fine, Weasley, because she's not a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Magical self- defense is part of the magic key, so it was stamped on its page with the magic key's sealer.

Harry and Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Mordon's eyes glinted slyly as he looked at Harry.

· Listen Potter, because now comes the best part! the auror grinned. "I wonder how the sealer got to Tudjukki, huh?" Well, he didn't even have it!

· Then with whom?

· At your parents'! Mordon snapped, and Harry was shocked again. "At your father's or mother's, who stole the astronomical sealer."

· But... what?! I don't understand this...

· You'll understand soon enough! – Mordon confessed more and more, now he was constantly grinning like a maniacal black mage hunter. "I don't know if you know about it, but what happened with the defense against dark magic class is not an isolated case." There have been other times that problematic subjects have been eliminated or assigned to another, related subject, only as a supplementary course. I know from McGalagony that at that time divination was a part of astronomy, it functioned as a part of astronomy, because for a long time there was no teacher who was a real soothsayer. When Dumbledore hired that crazy Trelawney, that woman signed the paper for the astronomy position, which was authenticated with this stamper! – Mordon showed the black, star-patterned object that had been hidden in his pocket until now.

The picture began to form for Harry, but Mordon continued.

· I think Tudjukki didn't want to turn it into a horcrux, but to curse it, so that through it he could possess Trelawney and extract from it the complete prophecy, which he wanted to know even then. He knew from that filthy Snape that Trelawney was the seer, and also that certain things were said after him that his Death Eater didn't hear. That's why he later wanted to steal the glass globe from the Main Department of Mysteries.

He knew he didn't have all the information. But he failed to catch Trelawney because your parents, who—

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I think so - they knew about the prediction, they took the seal press. They found out what Tudjukki was planning, and they protected Trelawney, and through him, you… for as long as they could. And who knows, he decided to give up on the prophecy and kill you.

· But how did he want to curse an already hired teacher? Trelawney already signed his paper then... - So,

Potter, that the Proteus charm sits on the sealers, which connects the teachers with Hogwarts, the seals with the sealer, the signer with the sealer, in short, everything with everything.

Ron shook his head, half disbelieving, half shocked.

· Then what could the horcrux have been…? What was it that Harry wanted to turn into a horcrux when he died? Mordon leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat.

· I don't know. But it must have died already, if you didn't find anything else there. Or Tudjukki himself went for it when he got himself a body...

Hermione and Paulina then came downstairs and were ready to go in their cloaks.

· Well, ladies, are you going? Mordon snapped.

"Yes, we're going," smiled Hermione. "We're going to hop, I think the hop dust would be a bit scary for Paulina."

The little girl raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked at Hermione. Those in the kitchen laughed softly to themselves.

· Then hello, see you tomorrow - Hermione said goodbye, and Paulina waved at the boys, then the two girls stepped out into the weedy garden and hopped off.

Mordon turned to Harry, but his magical eyes were constantly scanning the house.

"I see you've made the house homely...Sirius would be proud of you," he nodded to Harry from under his hard hat. - Why did you call me here?

Harry came to his senses and told Mordon what had happened, who was unfazed by the threat posed by the intruder. - And you were able to spend two nights here completely unprotected? Potter! You didn't understand anything I said! Don't look for danger, it will find you if it can!

· I know, Mr. Mordon, I know! Harry reassured the old auror. "But that's already happened, and we didn't have any trouble... And if you do what I ask, we'll be completely safe after that."

Mordon grunted, but didn't say anything, just nodded that he was listening.

· I'm asking you to draw a magical boundary around the house like there is around headquarters.

Mordon sighed hoarsely, then got up from the table and headed for the door. The two boys watched him in surprise.

· Where are you going now? said Ron, who stood up along with Harry and followed Mordon.

· How to where? the auror growled over his shoulder. "I'll take care of what you asked." This cannot be delayed. Harry and Ron sighed appreciatively, then followed the old man, who went out into the garden after the dejected girls.

Mordon took a piece of white chalk from one of the many hidden pockets of his robes and began drawing runes completely unknown to Harry on a stone. When he had written on the stone, he went to the stone fence and started scribbling on it as well. He repeated this in several places around the house, and finally drew a zigzag but continuous line within the plot boundary, which was more like a distorted ellipse than a circle. The whole operation took about an hour, and when the spell was finished, Mordon clapped his hands together and hobbled back into the house with the boys in tow.

"Thank you, Mr. Mordon," Harry thanked and poured some whiskey into the old man's glass. "Nothing, boys," he said, then downed the drink. "Safety comes first..."

Harry and Ron nodded absently and sat down at the table. Mordon remained standing and started picking.

"Oh, and boys…" the auror raised his head, both eyes fixed on the boys. "You could do it without hesitation." This is the custom in the Order of the Phoenix. Call me Alastor.

His scarred face broke into a friendly smile and Harry and Ron pulled out proudly.

· Then just be careful - Mordon cracked as a farewell, then entered the green flames, announced his destination and disappeared.

Harry and Ron got up early the next morning to get to the Ministry as early as possible. After a quick shower and breakfast, they dressed in robes and immediately went to the atrium with a whoop. When the two good friends stepped out of the flames, the familiar, colorful whirlwind awaited them.

They didn't hesitate, they immediately started towards the Security Police. Every part of Harry protested, but he handed his wand over to the wizard, who performed the usual checks on the scale-shaped machine. He checked both of their clothes with a fake detector, and they were about to move on when the detector beeped softly and metallically.

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· Hoo, young man! said the man in blue robes to Ron. "Just wait a minute." What if I should know?

Ron was completely calm, smiling as he handed the wizard a bag.

· In this one?

· Please open it! came the order and Ron obeyed immediately.

A pen, parchment, a bag of hop powder and a brown bag were found in the bag.

· What's in it? asked the security wizard again, pointing to the bag.

· Open it and see for yourself! Ron held out the Bottomless Bag to the man. He held the fake detector to the mouth of the bag, which hummed softly.

· Are you sure the detector is good? Ron asked skeptically. "They use it at school too, but it almost makes you deaf when you find something..."

· This is a very sensitive piece! the guard puffed himself up.

· Then what will happen, arrest him or what? Did you find something or not?

The guard looked through the bag once more, but found nothing inside and the detector only hummed, not screeching.

· Go... but I'll keep an eye on you! - the guard reluctantly let them go, and Ron and Harry continued to stand grinning.

They had already passed the golden gate and entered the first elevator to arrive, when Harry noticed that his friend was grinning incessantly. He poked Ron in the side, but then Ron burst out laughing. The people standing in the elevator smiled and shook their heads.

They reached the second level (Department of Prosecution of Magical Crime, Department of Magical Use; Auror Command, Wizengamot Enforcement Service) and started down the corridor, where doors opened to the right and left to the various sub- departments. They were passing one of the broom boxes when Ron pulled Harry aside by his robes and pressed a raw wood colored flexible wand into his hand.

· What is this…? Was it in the bag?! Harry added in amazement.

· Of course! Do you think I'm going to set foot in here unarmed after what's happened?

Harry was now grinning, as was his friend, and he noticed that Ron was now putting a black wand in his pocket.

· Where are these from? Harry inquired further, twirling the magic device between his fingers.

"The one I have was Fenrir Grayback's wand…he dropped it when he jumped on you in June. I picked it up. It was Dumbeldore's…

Harry gaped at the long wand in his hand, a far more elegant piece than any he had seen. He looked gratefully at Ron, who again grabbed him by the robes and encouraged him to go. Harry pocketed the real treasure and followed his friend down the hall.

They rounded a corner and entered the corridor that also led to Mr Weasley's old office. Here they entered the great hall of Auror Command, where there was even more commotion and commotion than usual. Harry noticed that the room was about three times the size it was before - it must have been enlarged with a space-expanding charm.

As they made their way through the place, all eyes were on them, some even spoke to the neighboring booths, and all stared at Harry and Ron.

The Harrys exited through the oak doors at the end of the hall and continued down the corridor towards what had been Mr Weasley's office until they reached the first fork where Ron turned right. After a few meters, this corridor came to a double-winged door with a golden sign announcing: Registry Office - entry only with permission!

Ron walked through the door without a word, and Harry followed. They arrived in a small, windowless room, on the right side of which sat in a closed booth a young blonde witch with glasses, who was dictating to a magical typewriter.

Ron knocked on the glass of the booth, and the blond girl looked up and gave a tired but friendly smile.

He pushed the glass away and surveyed the

boys. - Welcome! What do they order? he asked kindly and Ron answered in his best manner.

· Good morning! In the Records Department, we would like to inquire about the information of a certain witch named Rose Montgomery.

The smile melted from her face.

· I'm sorry, but this is very confidential material, we cannot release anything about anyone to anyone without ministerial permission.

You know, because of the Death Eaters and Tudjukki... this is unfortunately impossible.

· I understand correctly, so we have to ask the minister for permission to enter the archives?

She nodded and Ron thanked her for the information and pulled away from the window. He spoke to Harry in a muffled voice, "What?"

Shall we

try Tonks' method?

Harry barely concealed his shock. - You mean we attack the minister?! Ron shrugged and grinned.

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· After all... You can get into it at any time for any reason...

· Of course, so that I can be the number one close enemy! said Harry. "We have to think of something else... Can't we sneak into the room?"

· Out of the question! Ron stated. - You can jump in the atrium, but there is a protective charm on the other levels.

Harry pondered for a while and a plan began to form in his head. He thought about what to do three times, and finally he grabbed Ron by his robes and they left the room. Harry headed for the first broom storage, where he quickly looked around to see if anyone could see them, then opened the door and pushed Ron through. He also entered and closed the door.

· What's your plan? Ron asked, but instead of answering, Harry called his house-elf.

· Support!

· Whisper? What about her…?

The house elf appeared in front of them with a soft pop and bowed to his master.

· Order, master! the elf squealed and looked at Harry with his usual grimace.

· Sipor, answer my questions: can you hop anywhere?

The elf glared at the boy with a mocking, disdainful grin, then snorted before answering.

· Hop? Sipor can't jump! Not even an elf can. Hopping is only for wizards…

Harry frowned at the comment and was about to scold his elf for his lying tongue when he heard it mumble.

· The stupid half-breed doesn't even know what we are capable of! He doesn't know that elves slide and don't hop, and he still calls himself the Chosen One! Alas, what would my poor mistress say if she heard what they were asking Sipor...

Harry cleared his throat in confusion and looked at the elf sternly.

· Sipor, can you slide while carrying two people?

The elderly house-elf squinted slyly and only answered after a short pause.

· Only in here, master. I can't get away with people - then came the low muttering: - Poor Sipor, poor Sipor, his new master wants to make him break in, alas, what would my poor mistress say if she saw that they want to make a criminal out of Sipor, like a bloodthirsty traitor...

Harry didn't pick up on the previous comment, but immediately issued another command.

· Sipor, I want you to take Ron and me into the Records Department, invisibly, inaudibly, so that no one notices, no one guesses what is happening. Did you understand?

The elf nodded slowly after considering the order. Without another mumble or curse, he turned his back on Harry and Ron, held his gnarled hand back, and waited. The Harrys took hold of it hesitantly, and the next moment a very strange thing happened. Harry saw his hands and body, and Ron standing next to him, disappear, as did Sipor, who was waiting in front of them.

Their invisible bodies felt light as a feather, and then they started. They glided unhindered through the wall of the broom storage, along the corridor, over the body of a person coming towards them, cut the bend and flew over the solid rock, through the oak door of the Registry Office and through the magically sealed door. The blonde witch sitting in the booth didn't notice any of this.

Popping onto the cold stone floor of the Records Department, they materialized again, and Harry was pleased to note that all three had arrived safely. Sipor grumbled to himself and sat down by the wall, old and tired, as if he had been greatly strained by sliding.

· That's it! We're in! Ron exclaimed happily.

· Let's start the search! Harry suggested and held out his wand to light it. It was dark in the room, so not a single person was here now.

"Lumos Maximus," Harry said and the light from his wand illuminated the room. In front of them were long, high-shelf cabinets, each shelf filled with scrolls that contained the information of a wizard or witch. The parchment scrolls were in copper cylinders, and at the end of the cylinders a sticky note indicated who it belonged to.

· Huh! Ron remarked as he looked down the line, at the end of which, on the stone floor, was a golden letter F. "Sipor, stay here," Harry ordered, and he and Ron started towards the right hand side.

They passed the rows one by one, rows G, H, I, J, and so on—until they finally arrived at row M. Harry and Ron looked at each other, then Harry held up his wand and said the gathering charm.

· Invito Montgomery roll!

A small noise indicated that something had moved at the end of the line in the shadows, and the next moment Harry noticed twenty copper cylinders flying towards him at high speed. He raised his wand defensively, and scrolls clattered to the floor in front of him.

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"I thought you were going to be knocked off your feet..." Ron said with a grin, and he and Harry picked up the scrolls about the Montgomerys.

They read the labels of each one in turn, and when they looked at the twentieth, they were disappointed to find that there was not a Montgomery named Rose among them.

· This can't be true! Harry snapped angrily and slammed the cylinder in his hand to the ground. "Why isn't everything going smoothly?"

Ron was also at a loss.

· I don't understand... all witches have to be here. Without exception… Harry paced angrily and Ron licked up the brass cylinders.

"We should take these back, Harry…"

Harry didn't even hear his friend's comment, instead musing aloud.

· Maybe she wasn't even a witch... Dumbledore hired everyone, werewolves, half-giants...

"But everyone could do magic," Ron objected.

"Either way, there should be a record of it at Hogwarts." If he's been there, there must be some trace.

· Good, but let's go now. The cold makes me shiver. It reminds me of The Hall of Prophecies. Harry nodded and Ron started towards the row of cupboards, Harry calling for Sipor.

At that moment, a loud honking pierced the air, and Harry was sure it was heard outside as well.

When Ron stepped between the lines, he also crossed an invisible line that acted as an alarm to the Register In part.

· SIPOR! Harry shouted and the elf immediately appeared in front of him. "Ron, damn it, come quickly!" His friend brushed off the scrolls and ran back.

· Sipor, take us out of here, back to the broom storage! - the order sounded, and they already slipped, through the walls of the room, past the aurors rushing towards the door, into the cramped little place.

· Huh, that was hot! Ron sighed and he and Harry exhaled. Sipor looked at them with undisguised disgust.

"Thank you Sipor," said Harry. "Go back to Hogwarts and stay there." Tell Dobby that Harry asks him to prepare your favorite food for you... - The elf's eyes opened wide and now he didn't grumble at his master. Ron also stared at Harry in amazement. "Now go…"

The two good friends stepped out the door and carefully looked around. There was no one in the corridor, but nervous talking and shouting could be heard from the Records Department. Harry walked towards the elevators with Ron in tow and they passed through Auror Headquarters when they met Mr. Weasley.

· Guys, what are you doing here? Was there some kind of alarm before... - asked the man in surprise, but Ron didn't answer, but pulled his father behind him without saying a word and they left the big place.

· Dad, you have to get us out of here! Ron whispered. "The alarm was because of us, now we have to leave right away."

Mr. Weasley was taken aback for a moment, but acted immediately. He saw the seriousness of the situation.

· Come quickly... - he said and started towards the elevators.

He pressed the call button and after a few excruciatingly slow seconds, the elevator arrived and the door creaked open. Mr. Weasley ushered the boys in, then he got in and pressed the eight button.

· What have you been doing again? he turned to his son with a red face.

· We broke into the Records Department... They'll know it was us... that blond girl will surely remember Harry and me. The one sitting in the booth…

· Are you completely out of your mind? Why didn't you ask me if you needed something? Why play with your mind?

Harry and Ron listened to the insults in silence until the elevator reached the atrium level. Mr. Weasley led them out into the reception hall, next to the old fountain, and left them to wait there. He hurried to the Security Guard and the Harrys saw the wizard hand a purple piece of paper to Mr. Weasley, who quickly wrote

start.

Then Harry's heart suddenly jumped into his throat, because he saw that the entire staff of the Ministry Secretariat, led by a group of mages, was approaching the atrium from the elevators. Rufus Scrimgeur, Cornelius Fudge and Umbridge came through the golden gate, behind them was Percy, who was diligently taking notes as he walked, and after them three witches, two wizards that Harry had seen at Auror Headquarters and a person the size of Professor Flitwick.

Mr. Weasley noticed them as well, as he quickly finished writing, folded the paper, and set the purple paper airplane on its way. He hurriedly went to the two boys, passing the ministerial procession on the way. When he reached the Harrys, he spoke to them in a low voice.

· We hope everything will be fine. Mordon is in here, I've written him a message to modify Miss Macmillan's memories… we must hurry now. I overheard what they were talking about - Mr. Weasley pointed towards the procession, who had now stopped to talk in the middle of the atrium - fortunately it's not about the break-in, there's something with the goblins, but that's not the important thing now, just to disappear...

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· What are we waiting for? Ron asked nervously.

Mr. Weasley wiped his sweaty brow and then answered.

· The fireplaces were closed because of the little Ramazurits! - pointed the red-haired man, and indeed: no fire was burning in the fireplaces and no mages were coming or going on it.

The wizards in the atrium were all nervous, none of them knew why the Ministry was closed. That's probably why the Scrimgeurs came here too, to go somewhere, Harry thought.

· All we can do is wait for the fireplaces to be opened again. - And the visitor entrance? What about that? Ron asked.

· We can only use it in an emergency, now it would be pretty cool if we went out with it. So Harry, Ron and Mr

Weasley waited impatiently, for long minutes, people around them talking, stumbling or heading back towards the lifts, giving up waiting.

The minister and his two colleagues were not impatient, they had something important to discuss. Harry wondered what the problem was with the goblins and how they were going to solve it. All that's missing now is a goblin rebellion...

· Fudge, Fudge! the short figure hissed from behind the minister and his companions.

The former and the current minister were too engrossed in the conversation, they did not pay attention to the person.

· Caramel! Caramel!

Harry, Ron and Mr. Weasley could only hear with half an ear as the man in the hair-streaked robes and hard hat finally spoke back to the leaping figure behind him.

· One moment, sir...

· Caramel!

· WHAT DO YOU WANT? snapped the ex-minister in exasperation and then finally turned back.

The short person standing in front of Caramel took off his black hood from his tilted back head, and from the leather purse he held in his hand, he sprinkled shiny blue powder into his fist.

· CARAMEL WITH LOVE! the goblin shouted, and his voice was not at all friendly now. Rage, anger and determination emanated from him. Harry knew this voice well - he had heard it several times, from the mouths of Voldemort and some Death Eaters, and even his godfather, Sirius, growled like this when Pettigrew turned from a rat into a man-

day.

The goblin blasted the powder in his palm at the minister, Fudge, Umbridge and hesitantly hovered

He threw it at Percy – and in the blink of an eye they found themselves in a huge, suffocating cloud of dust that completely covered the center of the atrium.

And the goblin jumped, straight into the cloud of dust, where his victims waved their wands helplessly and blindly.

When he disappeared from the sight of the terrified screaming people, a huge crash was heard and the three of them flew in three directions. Scrimgeur crashed straight into the empty pedestal of the Magical Brotherhood's fountain and fell unconscious with a loud thump. Umbridge rolled screeching across the floor of the atrium like a large barrel, and Percy fell into a huddled crowd in front of one of the fireplaces.

Ron and Mr. Weasley didn't hesitate for a minute, rushing over to the boy to see what was wrong. However, Harry stood stunned in front of the cloud of dust, from which a bone-shattering shriek could now be heard – Fudge's shriek.

That's when the law enforcement, aurors, magic troublemakers, and anyone with an iota of presence of mind arrived. They grabbed a stick and tried to remove the cloud of dust - to no avail.

After a few tries, the aurors got tired of the futile attempt to dispel the cloud and cast stun curses blindly to see if they could hit the goblin. The streaks of red light broke through the grains of the dust cloud scattering the light and a cohesive red shroud fell over the aurors who all passed out.

Harry didn't wait any longer, pulled out Dumbledore's wand and ran into the dust cloud, where he could barely see beyond his nose.

· Mr. Caramel! Harry shouted, but inhaled the dust and had a severe coughing fit - as if his lungs were starting to burn.

Then something heavy hit his chest and Harry fell backwards. He opened his eyes, watery from the dust, and saw the goblin hiding in a black cloak, who was looking at him with an evil grin.

· Nock-nock, the Chosen One in person! said the goblin in a high voice that sounded like he was inhaling helium.

Harry pointed his wand at the goblin and dealt a knockback damage, but the curse dispelled just like the Aurors' stun damage. Harry's head hit the floor again as the curse fell back and the goblin bit hard into his wand hand.

Harry let out a yelp, but didn't lose his cool, using his other hand to deliver a powerful blow to his assailant, who knocked him down. Harry groped his way through the blue cloud of dust on all fours, searching for Fudge with his hands.

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When his right hand hit something ice cold, the goblin attacked him in the back again. He jumped on him and smashed the boy's head into the stone floor, whose forehead was dripping with blood.

· Why are you fighting for such a wretched man, sorcerer? the goblin hissed. "Dumbledore wouldn't have lifted a finger!"

· You are very wrong! Harry hissed and kicked up with one leg. It hit the goblin, who yelped in pain as he fell to the floor. Harry's joy didn't last long, immediately after that he felt a cold knife blade pressed against his throat and heard the goblin's words in his ear.

· Remember it well, Chosen One! the goblin warned Harry. "You are not my enemy." That's why you're still alive. Not all wizards are my enemies. I recommend that you choose your leaders, don't trust such worms!

Harry replied angrily: - Then who

would you recommend? Maybe that killer Voldemort?!

The goblin's knife hand seemed to tremble at the name and his grip weakened, tearing Harry's hair and pulling the boy's head back.

· No… no! What do you think, Chosen One? We are not His allies!

· Then don't attack us! Harry growled and hissed in pain.

· He only got what he deserved! Cornelius the Goblin… Ha!

Then the knife was no longer pressed against Harry's throat and the goblin climbed off his back. Harry gasped for air, but only inhaled another dose of dust, causing him to cough again. It was getting harder and harder for him to bear this unnatural cloud of dust.

· Listen, wizard! the goblin continued. "There's something that can't be stopped anymore." But if you think about what has happened and what will happen soon, you can realize that it also serves the interests of the mages! If you can see past your own ingrained thinking... It's all up to you, Chosen One! The question is, can you see as clearly as Dumbledore?

That was all the goblin said, Harry heard a soft pop that indicated the attacker had tripped – or slid or something… Harry couldn't think straight. He crawled out of the dust with trembling limbs, every part of him crying out for fresh air. He could no longer see anything, his eyes were burning, his voice was gone, his ears were buzzing. But he kept climbing and after a few meters he got out of the cloud and found himself in the fresh air again.

· Harry! Harry!

It was the first sound he heard with his restored hearing. Ron hummed and fanned his face to regain his composure.

· Water... - asked Harry weakly, and a memory flashed in his mind - he is lying on the rough rock, surrounded by a greenish light, and a black lake full of horrors... No, you don't need water...

· Don't! No water... no touching...

· Harry, what are you talking about? Here, drink it.

The first sip brought Harry back to the present, he applied the rest of the water to his eyes and wiped his smeared face with a clean handkerchief. His vision also returned dimly, but his glasses may have fallen off.

· Invito glasses... - he moaned weakly, and they soon fell into his hands. He put it on and looked around.

The shocked, terrified people standing in the atrium, including Harry now, watched the bluish cloud of dust dissipate. On the floor, on the dim parquet floor of the atrium, lay a coldly shiny human-shaped thing. It took most people a long time to realize that it was none other than Cornelius Caramel, frozen in ice, dead.

Harry was caught in the head, bleeding in thin streaks, and Mr. Weasley quickly stuck his wand in and cauterized the wound. Harry blinked gratefully at the man, it was all he could do.

"Come on boys, let's go," said Mr. Weasley, and Ron and Harry supported Harry. - And how? asked Ron, gasping with fright.

· At the visitor entrance... come! said the man again, and as the three of them entered the booth, Harry had only one thought: if one goblin could do such a thing, what could they do against a hundred or a thousand?

Mr Weasley punched in 62442 and the cab creaked up. Outside, in the open street, Harry took deep breaths, his lungs finally starting to clear. By the time the Stray Grimbusz appeared next to them, and they got on it, Harry could only think, what could it be that the goblin said could no longer be stopped? In a hidden corner of his mind, he knew very well the answer to what was to come next: an infamous, bloody goblin rebellion.

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Chapter 14

Behind the mirror

The Stray Grimbusz sped through the whole of England with loud bangs and huge jerks, always going through a different part of the country, just as the next passenger in line ordered the destination. In front of Harry, Ron and Mr Weasley was a gagging couple and a gravely calm, pale figure who, if it hadn't been daylight, Harry would have assumed was a vampire.

The bus was still driven by the old, bespectacled, blind Ernie Prang, but instead of Stan Shunpike, the ticket manager, people were greeted by a slightly shaggy-haired, heavily painted young witch who Harry judged to be in her early twenties. The girl had a black dragon-shaped tattoo on her neck, she constantly chewed, and she had an annoying habit: she kept staring at Harry with a grin, who didn't have the slightest desire to be asked if she was the Chosen One by some crazy Walpurgis Daughters-obsessed witch...

The magical vehicle came to a stop at the foot of the hill leading to Prewett House and Harry, Ron and Mr Weasley quickly got out – wanting to leave the lurching vehicle as quickly as possible. They were not alone in this, as an old lady who got off in front of them spread her breakfast over a substantial part of the first floor of the bus.

Before climbing the hill, Harry had one more inconvenience: crossing the magical border. Although he had prepared in vain, due to his fatigue, he could not bear the pain piercing his forehead, and he crouched down. Ron immediately put his arms around him in support until Harry's vision cleared. Mr. Weasley also ran back to him.

· What's wrong Harry, are you sick? the man asked worriedly.

"No problem, Mr. Weasley," Harry brushed off further questions. "It's normal, it's because of the line..." "Oh, I

see..." Mr. Weasley looked at the boy sympathetically and the trio slowly started towards the hilltop. "Why didn't you tell me it was causing this?"

· Because it makes no sense. The line works great and that's all I can take - even more when it comes to HQ.

Mr. Weasley nodded grimly and the trio slowly made their way up to the roof.

The people inside the house ran towards them as one, and it soon became clear that they had been listening to the broadcast of Várázszem Radio during breakfast, and that's where they learned about what had happened.

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were the most horrified when they heard that Harry was also involved in the attack, and when they saw the dusty, bloodied boy with hoarse, inflamed eyes, they immediately rushed to his aid - although Harry politely brushed it off. When he assured the frantic Mrs Weasley that he wouldn't collapse or bleed, she distracted him from taking a bath.

Harry spent over an hour cleaning himself, the dirty dust stubbornly stuck to his skin, Harry wanted to get rid of it as quickly as possible. But he had enough presence of mind to think about the future. Seeing how badly the Aurors failed, Harry suspected that the wizards didn't know about this special powder that prevented them from casting a curse. So he poured out the contents of one of the nearly empty bottles of face liquor and sprinkled a few grains of dust hidden behind his ears and in his tangled hair.

Although the bath had freed Harry from the grime, it had failed to wash away the overwhelming feeling that had surrounded him since the incident in the atrium. Harry's gloomy mood remained throughout lunch and most of the afternoon, but he tried to hide it from his friends.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix present were most interested in the mysterious powder and the details of the attack, which Harry reported with a straight face.

Meanwhile, Ron returned the repair bag to his father, which he forgot at the Black house, as Hermione reminded him. Mr. Weasley gratefully thanked his son for his thoughtfulness and opened the bag to examine his precious tools that had been used to transform the great flying Ford England. Mr. Weasley enlightened the two boys and Hermione, who was even more interested than them, that complicated Muggle machines could not be simply enchanted due to the magic-electric opposition.

"Heh, my good old socket wrench..." Mr. Weasley held the enchanted tool up to the light, which kept changing its size. When the light of the lantern fell on the shaft of the socket wrench, Mr. Weasley frowned and took a closer look at it.

· Hang on, Ron! said the man in surprise. "It's not my thing."

· Us?

· It's not mine, and... - he took out a small hammer and turned it between his fingers -... neither does this one. None of them! It's someone else's.

Both Ron and Harry frowned.

· How do you know? asked the red-haired boy skeptically. "One tool is like another."

· These tools are marked. Listen! Mr. Weasley showed the boys the socket wrench and hammer handle. They had a long number written on them. – I made my tools myself when they were needed for the car, and I never numbered them. What would I have done? Mr. Weasley smiled.

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· Never mind, Ron, I'm very grateful! I also left the old ones somewhere, so I will be able to use them again one day. Maybe.

With that, he stood up, packed the contents of the bag and took it down to the basement.

It was already evening when Lupin, Mordon and Tonks arrived, and they immediately fell to Harry to get a first-hand account. However, Mr. Weasley cooled them down and whispered something in Lupine's ear, causing him to smile faintly before turning to the three good friends.

"Follow me," Lupin ordered with a smile, and Harry shrugged and followed. "Muriel, we'll go up to your study, okay?"

· No, just go - the aunt let him, and already turned back to a black book, in which he had buried himself until now.

Lupine went up the stairs with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Mr. Weasley and the two aurors and turned right and entered the mysterious study where the members of the Order of the Phoenix were having their unheard, unseen meetings. Mirrors hung on every free surface of the room's walls, it was a bit disconcerting for Harry that wherever he turned, his own and his friends' faces greeted him back.

After Mordon closed the door behind him, Lupine drew his wand and, to Harry's surprise, pointed it at the huge, man-height mirror opposite the desk.

· Speculum Aperitif! – the never-before-heard charm sounded, and in the next moment the image of the seven people disappeared on the large mirror, and a spacious, bright field appeared behind them.

Harry's mouths gaped at the phenomenon, unlike Lupin, who without hesitation stepped in front of the mirror and simply walked through it, with a completely natural movement, as if there was only a door in front of him that led to the outdoors. Lupine looked at the Harrys from beyond the mirror.

· Come on guys! Mordon snapped, jabbing Harry in the back with the end of his walking stick.

Harry reached out and tried to touch the bottle, but where it should have been he felt nothing. His hand passed unhindered between the mirror frame, his leg, his face, and finally he stepped completely through the mirror.

He found himself in a field bathed in sunlight, hills all around, mountains in the distance, and the sea in the other direction.

There was a light breeze and the sound of birds chirping. Where the mirror stood orphaned in the middle of the clearing, the house, the wall, everything disappeared behind it. The only thing visible in the mirror was the study and the stunned Ron and Hermione, who were about to step through the mysterious passage.

· Where the hell are we? Harry asked the slyly smiling Lupin, who stood with his hands in his pockets.

He was only about to answer when Ron, Hermione and the others entered, and Mordon closed the mirror with the same charm. Now only the field and Harry's image was visible in it, there was no sign of the study.

· Is this a gateway? Hermione asked when Lupine opened his mouth to explain the phenomenon. "We must have come a long way from home because the weather is so nice..."

"The truth is, you weren't going anywhere," Lupin replied.

· But... well, wasn't that a passage, like the wall leading to the 9th and th track?

· No, Hermione, this is a Mirror World. We haven't gone anywhere, we're in the mirror. This is the safest place to discuss the duties of the Order of the Phoenix. No one can interrogate us.

Hermione listened to the explanation with her mouth hanging open and looked like she couldn't believe her ears. - I have never heard of such a thing... Never, in any book, have they written about such mirrors...

"Bring you books," Ron interjected, earning a look of disdain from Hermione.

· I'm not surprised that you haven't read about it in a book - Tonks took the floor, standing next to the mirror with grass green hair that perfectly matched the spring meadow. – This charm was invented by Aunt Muriel when she worked at the Department of Mysteries.

Now Mordon looked as if he didn't understand something.

· I thought that the Department of Mysteries was only created for learning and investigation, not for development... - That's

right, Scarecrow - answered Mr Weasley - Muriel created the mirror-opening spell only to help her work - at least that's what she told me when we first came here.

Harry put his hands in his pockets as did Lupine and walked around the hilltop. After a few steps, he bent down and began to examine the bare earth, but completely natural, black earth sprang out from his fingers.

· Are you saying it's all just magic? he looked up at Lupin. "Not real?"

· As we take it... - the man declared mysteriously and scratched his head covered with gray hair. "You know, it's not really the mirror that's special here, it's just the charm." This charm works on any mirror made by Muriel Prewett. His mirrors were in high demand, even more so than his owls... They can be found in almost every wizarding household.

· Then the charm created this place? It was created when the Special… well…

"Speculum Aperitur," Lupine corrected with a smile. "Yes, magic creates the Mirror World, in any magical mirror." And you can decide what kind of place you want to create. I thought everyone would like this, since it's been a long time since we've had such clear skies and sunshine... - Lupine looked up at the bright blue sky, then caught himself and sat down on the grass.

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Harry, Ron, and Hermione did the same, Mordon and Mr. Weasley remained standing, and Tonks sprawled upright in the lush vegetation, her hair completely blending into her surroundings.

"I think we should talk about what we've been up to, Harry," Hermione suggested, pulling out a blade of grass and playfully poking it at the ground.

Harry nodded and slowly began to tell the story - he told them what they had learned about Rose Montgomery, her horcrux, and what the goblin had said to him when he wrestled with her in the dust cloud. Here Lupine told them to get back to the horcruxes as he now had priority, but Harry found it hard to tear himself away from what was happening.

After Harry, Mordon told the others again, this time, what he had found out about the sealer, to the general consternation of Tonks and Mr Weasley, Lupine, on the other hand, wasn't too surprised.

After Mordon, Mr Weasley gave an account of the progress of the

investigation: - I immediately examined the statue, at the first opportunity, but it had no magical properties. And I have to say, it is quite unlikely that that statue was made by Hedvig Hollóháti. It's just a buzzword.

Hermione was disheartened, but Tonks and Lupine's report immediately followed.

· We went through the museums and archives to find clues, as you advised. We found some promising signs... - Harry's face brightened up suddenly. "The most likely is a perfectly intact robe worn by Hedvig Hollóháti," it is said. We suspect this because it was stolen in the fifties, by none other than a criminal named Valter Wildung, who joined the Death Eaters a few years later.

· Walter Wildung? Ron shook his head. "The muggle-spawn hunter?" Tonks nodded.

· It is likely that he stole it on the orders of Tudodki. At that time, Tudodki was not yet under arrest, so he had to call on the magical underworld for his dirty business - or threaten it, who knows?

· So the dress disappeared - Lupine took over - but it just turned up at an auction a few years ago, where the possessions of a dead wizard went under the hammer. They had no idea who the dress belonged to, since then it would have been sold for not only seventy-five galleons, nine sickles... - And who has

it now? Hermione asked excitedly.

· We don't know, but we will find out. We have a list of applicants for the auction and we have to search for each of them in turn. This will take a long time, because there are forty-five names on the list... But we will find him, the man concluded confidently.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and the others present summed up what they had heard.

"It makes sense after all," said Ron at once. "If Voldemort… (- Oh boy, you too?" Mr Weasley blurted out, but Ron ignored him)… made a horcrux out of the cloth, and anyone wears that bundle, so be it. It drains the life force out of it, or it controls it like Ginny is controlled by the diary.

The Harrys hummed in agreement.

· How long do you think this will last? Harry asked.

· Wait, are you bored? Mordon interrupted, and everyone burst into laughter. Harry smiled and shook his head.

· I don't know Harry. Who would know? said Lupin. "Perhaps a month and we'll find the clothes... The snake could come at any time, and besides, we involved the aurors to look for Voldemort's snake, saying that it can be used to get into closed places and protected buildings."

"There's a 'Blood Prize' on the head," grinned Tonks.

· Yes, and if this Montgomery can lead to the cup, then we are in very good shape. It reminds me, I suggest you look around Hogwarts, you might find something about him there.

"Yes, we've thought about that," agreed Harry. "I'll have Ginny look into it."

"Great," Mordon clapped his crusty palms together. "You can't make predictions in an investigation, but the case is progressing well." Three horcruxes and we're on all three.

"Then comes the hard part," added Ron with an unfortunate expression.

Harry suddenly had the nagging feeling that his heart was pounding in his throat again.

· What's wrong Harry? Lupin asked as he glanced at the boy.

Harry suddenly didn't know what to say. He was well aware of the trouble that was weighing on his soul, but he didn't know how to tell his friends—or if he would tell it at all.

· Harry? Hermione said and carefully put her hand on the boy's shoulder.

Harry looked around at the faces of his friends and, like turning on a light, suddenly decided that he had to tell them what was bothering him the most. All the more so because lives may depend on them knowing. He yawned soundlessly once or twice, then muttered an awkward word: - The goblin...

· What about him? Tonks raised her eyebrows, her expression showing that the morning attack would come up many more times in Order of the Phoenix discussions.

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"What he said isn't the point..." Harry lowered his head and began to scratch the ground in confusion. "But what he did." He won, but I didn't stand a chance against him. And it wasn't the first time that... that I was in a situation where I couldn't do anything.

The words started pouring out of Harry all at once, and the others listened intently.

· When I ran after Snape that evening in June, he caught up with me at Hagrid's hut. And I couldn't do anything about it, nothing! He fought back every single curse. And now this goblin too… I couldn't cast spells in the dust cloud, but that wasn't the problem. When he struck down and held the knife to my throat… (Hermione squealed here and Mr Weasley left his mouth open)… I was horrified. I was scared, seriously…

"Harry, it's only natural, everyone would have been afraid," Lupin shook his head. - I would have been afraid, Mordon too, everyone.

· No, it's not about that! Harry snapped and jumped up from the ground. He nervously took a few steps on the green lawn.

His friends watched his every move, every nervous breath he took. "What will I do against Voldemort if even a goblin gets the better of me?" It's not interesting that that goblin took care of Scrimgeour, Fudge, and the aurors.

The problem is that he sent me away when my job was to defeat Voldemort, but that's impossible! "Harry was shouting at the end and kicking the ground in helpless rage."

His friends, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, and Mordon watched in silence as he vented his fears, only Lupin who sated the flood of words. He stood up and grabbed Harry's shoulder, forcing him to look him in the eye. Harry reluctantly fixed his gaze on Lupin.

· You're right, your job would be to defeat Voldemort! said the man quietly and sternly. "And it's not that you say it's impossible!" Nothing is impossible, Harry, you just have to want it and not give up. Never give up! - I want it, even Dumbledore made me understand that! Harry said brokenly. "But Voldemort has seventy years of knowledge, and I have seventeen." This... this is unobtainable...

"Who said you have to beat You-Know-Who in a duel, Harry?" asked Mr. Weasley. "You can't just deal with someone in a duel."

There are many ways to win…

"Yes, and you don't know everything," Tonks continued. "He has his weaknesses too, you just have to find them."

Harry tore himself from Lupin's arms and nervously ran a hand through his black hair.

· I know your weak points... - he said reluctantly. "I just can't take advantage of it." And here's my other problem: I'm not particularly good at anything - well, except for Quidditch... But look at Hermione!

She raised her head in surprise. Harry continued.

· Hermione is the best at Transfiguration, so much so that she is even more skilled than most Death Eaters. And Ron is better at magic than me... The only thing I'm better at is warding off dark spells. The only problem is that as good as I am at school, the Death Eaters are even more powerful because they all learn curses and corruptions from Voldemort!

The four Order members listened with expressionless faces, Ron looked at Harry with an unhappy expression, but Hermione almost laughed.

· Oh, Harry! Hermione shook her head. "You still don't understand this stuff." Do you seriously think our school grades have anything to do with this war or whether you can defeat Voldemort? You are not the Chosen One because you are supposed to excel at anything. You are you because that's how your life turned out! Things have happened to you that make you want to defeat Voldemort.

"Hermione, it's one thing to want something and another to do it," Harry objected.

· No! Hermione protested, and so did Lupine. The man continued: - How did you get the better of Voldemort so far?

Harry shook his head but answered the question.

"With luck…others helped, or Voldemort did something to hurt himself…"

· Exactly! Lupin nodded profusely. "The focus here is Voldemort, not you." He was always the one who took action and you were the one who stood in his way. You don't have to attack Voldemort with your wand drawn! Then the events will bring what you have to do.

It was clear to Harry, but there were still some questions that Dumbledore couldn't answer.

· Dumbeldore wanted me to study. He says I'm not ready to face him yet... But if what he says is true, I should be able to defeat him by now.

· No, Harry you don't know yet.

· But he said earlier that Voldemort himself could cause his downfall through me, so... why? Lupine chuckled.

· Because Voldemort isn't here, of course!

Harry looked at Lupin in confusion. The man saw this and explained in more detail.

· There was no situation in which you could defeat him. You have to study to create this situation.

I thought about this a lot after you told me the prediction. We also had a long talk with Professor McGalagony about this.

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Destroying Horcruxes is only one of your tasks. The other is to confront Voldemort in a place and time where you emerge victorious from the fight. And only you can know this situation!

· Why?

· Because you were chosen for this, chosen by Voldemort! He marked your forehead and thereby allowed you to enter his own thoughts.

· So… so those dreams would be the key? How can I see how Voldemort feels?

"Not Harry, but that out of all of us, Death Eaters included, you know Voldemort best," Lupin stated. The others looked from one to the other. "It's not your special ability that gets you selected Harry." All your magic powers are just help to get to the end. When it's all over and you look back, maybe you'll realize that it wasn't the final challenge that was the hardest, it was how you got there. - And only I can know how to get there, right?

Lupine agreed and Harry continued, "But I don't see that yet… I don't know what to do!"

· Then start at the beginning. One simple step and the rest will fall into place. Always focus only on the given problem! Nobody expects miracles from you.

Harry stilled. He sat back down on the ground and stared ahead. The first step? He thought he had already done that when he left the Dursleys for the Burrow. But if what Lupine said was true, and he always had to focus on that one thing at a time, and not try to see the full picture of how he was going to trap Voldemort, then every step was a first step, wasn't it? Each step takes you somewhere completely new where you have to make new decisions. But what would be the best decision now?

Lupin, as if sensing his thoughts, crouched down in front of Harry and waited for the boy to turn his attention to him.

· As your former teacher, let me give you a suggestion, Harry! Learn what is your strength! You said you're the best at warding off dark spells, but even that's not enough against Death Eaters. I agree, it's really not much, but if you've observed it, tell me what the Death Eaters are really up to!

A thousand and a thousand memories flashed through Harry's mind when he saw the black hoods fighting, and he immediately found the answer to the question.

"The main curses," Harry answered matter-of-factly.

"Yes, they are," Lupin nodded. "Voldemort teaches only these things to his Death Eaters - that's right, these things perfectly."

Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said about Tom Denem. Young Voldemort was convinced that there was nothing worse than physical injury, pain and death.

Lupine continued.

· Voldemort believes that these are enough for an effective army, and what happened proves that they are indeed effective. But you know best, Harry, that there is a defense even against main entrance curses, you just have to find it.

Voldemort and the Death Eaters must be fought in a way that they are powerless against, just as we cannot defend ourselves against the Avada Kedavra. Your opportunities and conditions are given, you just have to take advantage of them. And we have to help with this.

Mordon limped forward a few steps.

"I think we have everything here to teach these three good birds, don't we, Arthur?" the auror cracked and Mr Weasley nodded with a smile.

· Will you teach us? Ron raised his head and looked at Hermione, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement.

· Yes, first the basics - non-verbal spells (Harry remembered that Snape started his sixth year with it too, although not many could learn it properly, Harry also only managed to master a few simpler thought-spells), combined spells, summons, and others. A wizard or witch must know these, Hogwarts curriculum. After that, you can already determine what you really have a talent for.

"Don't get me wrong, you won't be able to defeat Voldemort with this," Lupine took over, "but it will help you get to the point where you have to." I don't think there is a charm there that would be useful. There, only what is in your head and heart helps.

Harry picked himself up from the ground and dusted off his trousers.

"I think this will be a good first step," he said, and his friends agreed.

The narrow discussion of the Order of the Phoenix came to an end, Mordon opened the mirror and the party of seven returned to the study. When they reached the ground floor, they saw that the table had already been set for dinner, and that the residents of the Prewett house were just waiting for them.

After the delicious dinner, Harry went straight to his room, where he flopped weakly on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't get lost in his thoughts even for a moment, because a loud howl raised his head again. Hedvig was sitting on top of the wardrobe and now she was sitting on Harry's outstretched arm.

He completely forgot about his owl. He stroked its feathers, and the bird lovingly pecked his hand. Harry opened the window and let Hedwig out to hunt.

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He didn't sit back on the bed, because as the bird darted off to search the darkness for something to eat, Harry remembered that he had other things to do. He took the twin mirror from the drawer of his bedside table and leaned against the windowsill to look into it.

· Ginny! Harry said to the mirror. "Ginny…"

· I'm here Harry! – the worried face of the Weasley girl immediately appeared in the small mirror. - I heard what happened, it was written in the Evening Prophet. Are you okay?

· No, everything is fine... but what exactly did they write?

· That a goblin attacked the minister and his staff and killed Fudge, but Harry Potter tried to save him…

Harry looked at the ceiling and exhaled.

"Yes," he remarked bitterly. "The problem is that I was just trying to save him..." "You can't save everyone, Harry," Ginny said. "No one expects miracles from you." Harry chuckled.

· Lupine said the same!

· I guess... - answered the face in the mirror. "Maybe you're the only one who expects miracles from yourself." You are not Chosen because you are stronger than Voldemort.

Harry smiled and lingered over the face for half a moment.

· Harry…? Ginny said hesitantly.

· Forgive me, I thought... I would like to ask you a favor. Ginny listened intently.

· A little detective work awaits you. You should look for a student in the school's old documents. To a certain Rose Montgomery who became a student at Hogwarts in 1947.

· Did you put the wrong wood on the fire? Ginny asked with a half smile.

Harry almost laughed.

· No, of course! On the contrary... if you find anything about it, let me know and I'll fly! he added with a grin. Ginny sighed and nodded in agreement.

"Alright, I'll look into it… and please take care Harry!"

"As always," Harry let it slip, which Ginny didn't like at all. "Good night!"

· Good night Harry!

Ginny's face disappeared from the mirror, and Harry, dressed as he was, slumped over the bed and fell into a restless sleep a few minutes later.

The days passed and October arrived - just as windy and cold as September. Harry, Ron, Hermione and little Paulina practically didn't move out of the house, where some members of the Order visited almost every day, but the Harrys were only interested in the reports of Mr Weasley, Tonks, Lupin and Mordon. Harry decided that he would not monitor the affairs of the goblins, he would devote all his attention to his studies. Aunt Muriel taught them on weekends, and Mordon or Lupin on weekdays if they spent a day at headquarters. The rest of their time was spent reading the seven-year books that Ron had inherited from Fred and George.

Harry's cheerfulness was a thing of the past, sitting in his room or living room all day long, hiding his books, just like Hermione. The zeal of the two made Ron willing to pick up a book even when no member of the Order was there to teach them. As Mordon promised, first Harry and Ron had to properly learn non-verbal spells, Hermione could skip this step, since she was a real pre- talent in magic through thought. He was able to perform all charms, curses and summons without words, which impressed not only his friends but also his teachers.

Ron was slowly but surely progressing with the practice of spells, he mastered the disarming charm, levitation and easier spells in a few days, but he was rarely able to perform the patron charm and other spells that required more concentration and immersion without words.

This type of magic was the most difficult for Harry, because it primarily required a clear head and calm thoughts, which Harry never had. After three weeks, he failed to show any further progress, and then Mordon was satisfied with the matter and came forward with new advice.

"Try it another way, Potter," suggested the old auror in a hoarse voice. – Don't focus on the spell, but try to recall the spell itself, what it does, how it feels when you cast it...

Considering you're such a nervous wreck and can't take it easy for even a minute, maybe it'll work…

· What about Mr. Mordon! Hermione snapped. "Harry's not nervous, just a little restless!" Harry just smiled at the comment though.

"It's okay, Hermione, you're right," Harry quieted and pointed his wand at the apple he'd been trying to crack open for the past twenty minutes.

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"Imagine the apple cracking," continued Mordon. – Imagine the process, and when you're ready, say the magic spell to yourself.

Harry did as the Auror advised. He imagined the apple bursting as if he were doing the same with his own hands. He concentrated strongly on this image, then with a moment's change he uttered the word to himself: Diffindo!

The next moment the apple glowed purple, trembled and splattered, covering the parlor floor.

· It worked! Harry, you did it! Hermione squealed and clapped her friend.

"Hmmm… Not a bad performance… from me," grinned Mordon. "I wouldn't have been such a sloppy teacher as I thought before." If I could teach a nervous kid like that (Hermione giggled indignantly) how to use non-verbal magic, then I'm pretty good… Five points for Gryffindor, Potter.

Harry laughed to himself, now along with Hermione.

"Thank you, Mr. Mordon," Harry thanked, thinking that there was a difference between Mordon's and Snape's teaching methods. Mordon also scolds him when something goes wrong, but then he helps him and doesn't add to his embarrassment.

· I told you to call Alastor!

· Then call Harry yourself! - retorted the boy cheerfully.

· Okay, let it be… Harry. Well, don't trust yourself too much, you still have a lot to improve, Mordon scolded. "Clean up this mess, then come, because Molly's been yelling for ten minutes that lunch is ready."

Harry got to work, but Mordon said, "Dude!" Non- verbally, you child!

Harry finally practiced his mind spells the following week, and interestingly it went the exact opposite way for him than it did for Ron. His friend's spells that required more complicated concentration caused problems, but Harry found them the easiest. The patron was able to perform the charm quickly, in one day, without words, because he could easily get used to the appropriate situation. However, a simple charm like bursting an apple was much more difficult for him, because when he used this charm out loud long ago, he never thought through how it was done - he just said it and all his problems were solved.

"Not surprising, Harry," Hermione explained. - We don't usually think about simple things, we just do them. If you have to do this in your head, it's more difficult, especially if you have to think point by point...

After that, they learned the seventh-year magic curriculum from Lupin, combined spells. Hermione was the best at this too, the next flier learned in a week how to fly an object into the air and set it on fire at the same time - yes, only verbally. Performing a combined spell was a tough nut to crack, and Harry and Ron suffered quite a bit. They had been trying for days, but they only got to the point where they were able to perform two different spells very quickly in quick succession, but luckily Lupine was satisfied with their initial performance. Again, his teaching methods were different from Mordon's. Even if the boys' magic was a complete failure, Lupine didn't forget to praise them for something, like a good wand move or a spell said with the right accent. This gave them confidence and encouraged them to try complex spells again and again.

In this way, October progressed quickly, and they could continue studying without interruption until the last Sunday of the month. On this day as well, the "students" gathered in the salon to listen to Aunt Muriel's advice and try something completely new: the mirror- opening charm. It was Hermione's idea to ask the aunt to introduce them to the secrets of this magic - and the aunt was willing to help them.

Ron and Harry believed that Hermione's insatiable thirst for knowledge had led them to this idea, but she explained to them that there was much more to it than that.

· Have you ever thought about how many places there are magic mirrors in the magical world? Hermione asked, her face flushed with excitement. "Everywhere!" In Hogwarts, Gringotts, the Ministry, every single shop and house!

· So what? Ron shrugged.

· Oh, don't you understand? Hermione's voice sounded overwhelming. "It's fashionable for wizards to put up big mirrors like that because… you know, Ron, golden-blooded wizards are a bit vain…"

· Really? – Ron looked at the girl with his hand on his hip, but at the same time he smiled faintly.

· Uhmm... I didn't mean it that way, but... oh, whatever! Hermione snapped. – The point is that if we learn this spell, which no one else among the mages knows, not even Voldemort, then we can hide from anyone or anything if we are in a place where such a large mirror is located.

Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows and looked at each other, but Hermione had already turned her back on them and hurried through the drawing room door where Aunt Muriel had set up a large mirror. The gold-framed, glittering piece hung on a stand and was about two meters high.

· Are you ready? Aunt Muriel asked the three students with a smile. Harry noticed that Paulina was here as well, and she glared at them from one of the armchairs - she was very curious about the magic.

The three good friends nodded at Aunt Muriel's question, and Hermione immediately stepped forward.

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"Okay, you start, Hermione," the aunt also took out her wand, which was one of the longest wands Harry had ever seen, maybe seventeen inches, but at the same time it was a thin, light piece - it looked like it wasn't designed for wizarding duels.

· About the spell called Speculum Aperitur, you should know that it is the most similar to the Patronus charm among the spells you have learned.

Harry's eyes immediately lit up; Aunt Muriel noticed and continued with a smile.

· In order to create a place, a "world" with magic, as my old colleague used to say, you have to concentrate very strongly on that particular place. You have to immerse yourself in it, as if you were really standing there, as if you could already see its walls or the horizon around you. It makes things a lot easier if you want to create a place to which you are emotionally attached... You can imagine it more easily, you can live in it more easily.

"Well, will you try it Hermione?"

· Yes, the girl answered firmly and pulled out her wand.

Harry saw her narrow her eyes and focus hard on a spot she wanted to see in the mirror. After a few moments, he raised his wand and pointed it at the mirror.

· Speculum Aperitif! said the spell, but nothing changed in the mirror, he stubbornly continued to point to Hermione and the two boys standing behind her.

· Speculum Aperitif! Speculum Aperitif! - the girl shouted again, and then something happened: a room with bright, silvery walls appeared faintly, in which there were many small tables covered with white tablecloths, in a tangled mess.

· Huh! little Paulina exclaimed in surprise.

Harry was familiar with this place from somewhere, but he couldn't remember when he had been there. Hermione's hand holding her wand now trembled and the apparition disappeared - the image of the three good friends returned to the mirror.

· Not bad for a start! said Aunt Muriel, then turned to the boys. "Will you try it too?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, debating in silence for a few moments, then Ron nodded for Harry to try.

Harry stepped into Hermione's place, whose face was red - perhaps from concentration? Harry thought. "Would it be that hard?"

It didn't take long for him to think about which place he could most easily recall. He remembered exactly every little detail of the Gryffindor clubhouse, since he practically considered that room his home.

· Speculum Aperitif! Harry shouted, and miraculously, in the blink of an eye, the image of him and his friends disappeared from the mirror, and the beloved clubhouse appeared instead.

Harry smiled and lowered his wand once he was sure of what he was doing.

· That's right! Amazing! Aunt Muriel congratulated, and Hermione and Ron were speechless, only Paulina, who enthusiastically applauded the boy's successful magic. "Right away!"

Harry stepped forward uncertainly, but in the process glanced at his aunt, who nodded reassuringly. Harry held out his hand and, just like the study mirror, he could see through it unhindered. Now he stepped forward more bravely, and immediately found himself in the Gryffindor's red-draped club room.

He walked around the room, grabbing the couch and the window to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And at the same time, he warned himself that none of this was real. Only as real as the different layouts of the Room of Requirement.

He turned to wave to his friends, to invite them in, as Harry noticed that in the Mirror World you couldn't hear outside sounds - but when he looked out into the drawing room, he saw Ron waving at him profusely to come out.

Harry hurried out and immediately understood why his friends had called him out. Someone yelled.

· YOU DAMN CAPE TURNER!

Mr. Weasley's angry voice could be heard from the living room, yelling in a way Harry had never heard before, but he had never imagined that the always calm and kind man could produce such behavior.

Aunt Muriel had already left for the stairwell, and Ron followed her with his mouth open. Hermione and Harry looked at each other and then they too went to see what had Mr. Weasley so covered. Hermione told the little girl to stay here, but Paulina didn't even bother to listen, she ran right after them.

Harry found himself raising his wand in front of him, instinctively keeping it at the ready when he knew something unusual was happening. He shook his head and put it back in his pocket.

They reached the ground floor, while Mr Weasley's shouting continued: - HOW DARE YOU?! HOW DARE YOU?

There was a confused mumble in response, which the Harrys recognized as another man's voice.

· WE TRUST YOU! WE GAVE HONEST, HONORABLE WORK, THIS IS WHAT WE GET!

· A-arthur… b-forgive me, please, I don't even know…

· YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW? WELL THIS IS IT! WHAT DO YOU KNOW YOU DIRTY CRIMINAL!

When Harry entered the living room behind Aunt Muriel, Ron and Hermione, he was met with a shocking sight.

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Mrs Weasley watched with horrified eyes and a hand over her mouth as Mr Weasley took a wand at an extremely frightened and confused Mundungus Fletcher.

· Please, Arthur, listen to me... I am in a very difficult situation...

Mr. Weasley chuckled in an indignant-mocking tone.

· ARE YOU IN A DIFFICULT SITUATION? YOU?!

· Arthur…

· ALL MY CHILDREN ARE IN DANGER OF DEATH, I'M GLAD TO SEE SOME OF THEM FOR FIVE MINUTES ONE DAY... AND YOU STILL SAY YOU'RE IN A DIFFICULT SITUATION?!

Mundungus took a few steps back, never taking his eyes off Mr. Weasley's wand, which was now shaking along with his arm. In the few moments of pause, Harry pressed forward beside Hermione and noticed that a green fire was burning in the fireplace behind Mundungus and the image of a dark room was visible between the flames.

· How could you steal from us? asked Mr. Weasley now in an ominously quiet voice. "You know the situation we're in... but I still helped you when you came to beg after Azkaban." Sirius also gave you everything without a word, treasures worth hundreds of galleons! Where did you spend them?

Mundungus didn't answer, he just kept shaking his head as if trying to deny that the Earth was round.

Mr. Weasley's accusations continued and no one felt like interjecting, let alone making any excuses for Mundungus. He did that himself, and Harry felt he didn't deserve any more excuses.

Because it was only then that Harry noticed the open display case, which was gaping empty, and the contents of the bag lying at Mundungus' feet - the treasures of the Prewett and Weasley families (silver cutlery, fine china plates, empty jewelry boxes) half scattered, which Mundungus had left on the fireplace he wanted to get over it.

· Who is there? snapped Mr. Weasley as his eyes wandered to the fireplace. Mundungus looked back in horror and shook his head again.

· Brilliant Harris, eh? You want to be together… how do you say it? "Pass the swag", what Dung?

Harry also saw the hooded person in the blue robes in the dark room, who now quickly moved away from the fire.

Mundungus then moved towards the fireplace, but Mr Weasley was on the lookout. He waved his wand and the fire went out.

· Arthur, don't! Mundungus exclaimed. "I'm not going back to Azkaban, ever!"

· Why? grumbled Mr. Weasley. "You don't have to be afraid of dementors anymore." Now it can be a very calm place in Azka, a ready-made holiday paradise for your kind!

"No..." Mundungus whined.

· BUT YES, DUNG! the man bellowed. - NO MORE ROBBERY, YOU'LL GO WHERE YOU'RE MEANT TO BE! I SHOULD HAVE DONE THIS A LONG TIME AGO WITH SUCH A CRIMINAL!

Mundungus didn't wait any longer, he ran towards the hall and grabbed his kurta wand. However, Mr Weasley was quick to react again.

· You're not going anywhere!

The wand flew out of the intruder's hand and flew across the room to land at Harry's feet. At the same time, the door slammed in front of Mundungus, who ran at it with full speed and bounced off it. He lay on the ground wailing and clutching his bleeding nose.

Mr Weasley strode towards him with a single flick of his wand and strong ropes wrapped around his body. And from the next spell, a red light surrounded Mundungus for a moment, and then it fell silent.

Mr. Weasley blew himself out and stroked his balding head. She looked like she was being bullied, as were Mrs Weasley and Aunt Muriel. The two women now approached the man and hugged him. And Harry, Ron, Hermione and Paulina looked at the treasure scattered on the floor speechless. The last remaining values of two once prominent golden-blooded wizard dynasties…

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Chapter

15 War of Wizards

Mr. Weasley took Mundungus Fletcher to Auror Headquarters that same day, where he was formally tried and convicted two days later. He was returned to Azkaban, but this did not undo the damage done to the Prewett family: Mundungus broke two of the three display cases in the living room and sent them through the fire to Ragyás Harris. When Aunt Muriel saw how many jewels and owl breeding certificates, even her Hogwarts diploma from 1955, were gone, she was very desperate and her cheerful mood disappeared for a while.

Of course, Mr. Weasley didn't leave it at that, he set out to find Mundungus's accomplice to recover the stolen valuables, but the "authorities" of the alley of the Pickpocket and the London dark district behind it were very selective about who they gave any information to. Moreover, now that the war between dark magic and Dumbeldore's followers was in full swing, it was dangerous for a Ministry wizard to go to the dragon's cave. Mr Weasley had spent the two days since Mundungus's arrest fruitlessly investigating – which Fred and George had joined when they learned what had happened to Mrs Weasley's unusually pleading husband not to return to the infamous quarter. And so some of the treasures of the Prewett

house seemed lost forever.-,

There was only one day left until Halloween, which the Harrys spent studying hard. They went back to the curriculum and practiced the complex spells, this time from Mordon, who was staying at HQ until the weekend.

· Have you figured out what the dust was that the goblin scattered? Harry inquired after they took a short break from practicing elemental magic. The auror was teaching them wind spells, and as a result, the hall used as a training ground looked like a tornado had swept through it. The drawers of the cupboards were all knocked out, their contents flying all over the room.

Mordon sighed hoarsely and shook his ashen cauldron.

· No, unfortunately we don't know anything about it. The Main Department of Mysteries is investigating its composition, but they haven't come up with anything yet. The dust seemed to extinguish the magical vibrations…

· Is Aunt Muriel working on it? - Harry now looked towards the old lady who was looking through a towering stack of papers - they were probably secret ministry reports because Harry didn't see a single orphaned letter on them when he walked behind the aunt to take a look at the documents. Auntie Muriel, however, was apparently not bothered by the fact that the pages were completely blank, she eagerly read the nothing.

"No," Mordon said. - There are currently three people working on Mysteries, and you know very well that there are several sub-departments.

"We've seen strange rooms there, but we have no idea what they're for," Ron wondered. Mordon scratched his head.

· Hmmm... I don't know exactly what it's for - he began - there's the Time Hall... That's what they're called in the Mysteries, not a subdivision, but a hall, although there are some that consist of several halls - whatever. The Time Winners are dealt with in the Time Hall. They investigate anomalies, paradoxes, and the rest. In the Hall of Knowledge, they study the human mind, memories, experiences, how they affect people, what happens when we change memories.

· We've been there too! Ron shook his head. "That was the brain room wasn't it Harry?" Where that flying brain attacked me!

Mordon nodded, then continued: - You know

the Hall of Prophecies, the Hall of Death, um... well, I don't know much about that. That arch has been there for a very long time. It was already there before the Ministry was built. The Department of Mysteries was built around it. This was the very first major department, it was built and operated by the Wizarding Council at first, of course it had a different name then, not a department. - And where is the powder tested? Harry asked eagerly. "I mean,

Aunt Muriel mentioned to Scrimgeur that the Department of Mysteries would also have a role in the investigation after Voldemort..."

· Muriel pointed out that the main department intended for learning and examination could also be used for development.

· What? You mean weapons development?

· I don't think so - Mordon shook his head - The easiest way to win a war is not with weapons, my son. Muriel thought that we could gain an advantage over Know-It-All by developing new methods of hunting down magical crimes that she did not know. The only problem is that he knows almost everything that is possible within the framework of magic. Even Gringotts has its own experimental buildings and its own scientists. That crazy powder could also have been made there. And that can only mean one thing…

"A goblin riot," Harry said to the effect.

"Sure, boys," Mordon nodded darkly. - Two of the three pillars have already tipped over.

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· Three pillars? What are you talking about? Ron asked confused. Mordon looked at them strangely and then snorted.

· Father, where are you in history of magic class, huh? snapped the old auror. "Didn't you learn anything at that school?"

Harry and Ron craned their necks in shame.

· The three pillars of power. Fifth grade curriculum. A model of the current structure of the wizarding world. Well, nothing jumps out?

The boys shook their heads in confusion - they had never heard of pillars of any kind. Mordon caressed his scarred hand and began to explain further.

· The three pillars are like a three-legged chair, you know. It keeps the institution of the wizarding world stable. These three pillars, like three pillars, contain the main factors necessary for power: money, power and continuity. - And what are these three columns? Harry interjected.

· The force as legal control is the Ministry of Magic. It has been operating since 1689, when it was replaced by the Wizard

Advice. At that time, the underground building, which had been the scene of the Council's meetings until then, was also expanded. Several levels were excavated for it and the Main Departments were also formed at that time.

The second pillar is money, and this is Gringotts, which from the beginning was held by the goblins with the largest gold reserves. This side

was the most problematic. In principle, it is independent from the other two, the Ministry has no direct power over it, yet they were constantly at odds with each other. The Ministry and the wizards needed money for construction and life. And the goblins needed space. One that is hidden from muggles. And this place could only be given to them by the Ministry.

"We are talking about two completely different peoples, boys," added Mordon, who cas-t, spells in completely different ways, but complement each other if they work well together. But neither side was satisfied with the situation. The Ministry always wanted more control, and Gringotts wanted more independence - and respect! The latter was never received from the sorcerers and witches, and indeed it was primarily this that led to the rebellions and uprisings. - And the continuity? What does that mean? Harry cooed. "What is the third pillar?"

"The third pillar is Hogwarts," Mordon declared. – Hogwarts was the first official institution of wizards, much older than the Ministry or the Council, or the organization of goblins, which only formed in the 1500s. You know, until then the goblins did not gather in any kind of group, they were self-sufficient in all respects and lived and mined in their underground caves, hidden from the eyes of people. That's why wizards looked down on them. They were considered uncivilized. But when the goblins saw that the wizards could grow on their heads, they presented their proposal to the Wizarding Council. And Gringotts was formed.

But Hogwarts is the most important of the three pillars. School was always the same. When it was completed a thousand years ago, it looked and functioned exactly as it does today. Only the Quidditch pitch was built, the plant house was expanded somewhat, and the students' uniforms changed over time, but Hogwarts itself has always been like this.

Unchanged and eternal, as poets used to mention in their poems when they write about school. Therefore, he has an honorary power over the other two, namely, in such a way that the current director had a say in the Council and has a say in the Ministry, and even in Gringotts.

Hogwarts plays the role of overseeing the three-legged stool, supporting the wizarding world and not letting it go.

· But how? How does Hogwarts have such power? Ron asked curiously. Mordon grinned slyly and fixed his kidney-seeing glass eyes on the boys.

"Through you," the auror pointed out and continued before the Harrys started bombarding him with incomprehensible questions.

"The teachers and students of Hogwarts have always had a lot of influence, and if necessary, they have interfered in the affairs of the Ministry." Thanks to Hogwarts, two goblin rebellions were also ended. The director was an intermediary between the two other pillars. The school is therefore the maintainer of continuity.

Before this, it had never happened that the Ministry wanted to bring Hogwarts under its control, they always paid so much respect to the school that they left it in the old system. That female Umbridge was a completely unprecedented event in the history of Hogwarts. - And how did you understand that two pillars have already tipped?

· Of course, so that Hogwarts is no longer able to maintain continuity. His power was greatly diminished by Dumbledore's death. And now Gringotts is turning against the Ministry.

Mordon leaned back in his chair and rolled his magical eyes wildly. After a short pause, he added: - You know, boys, I'm not sure if that one remaining pillar is worth facing Gringotts.

Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows but remained silent. That's exactly what Harry was thinking. He knew the leadership of the Ministry, and he was sure that he would not trust them with a cauldron with holes, let alone the management of an institution.

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Harry and Ron tried the wind stirring spell a couple more times, which worked quite well for them out loud, but only sometimes on a mental level. Mordon put an end to his studies for the day and interrupted the Harrys to dinner, then after tidying up he followed them.

Dinner was the time when all the members of the house got together, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Aunt Muriel, Harry and his two friends, and little Paulina. Bill had moved out of here months earlier, renting an apartment in Hogwarts to be close to his wife. The other members of the Order, Mordon, Tonks, and Lupin, had their own apartment, only sometimes they slept at the headquarters.

Paulina finished the dinner the fastest, because she barely ate anything, Ron even had a tendency to tell the little girl to her face that if she continued like this, she would be as thin as a skeleton. Paulina had a good laugh at that and went to brush her teeth as Hermione instructed.

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione called to the woman as the little girl left the kitchen. "What we talked about before... you know..."

Mrs Weasley frowned for a moment, then her eyes lit up.

· Yes, yes - he nodded. "Have you finally made up your mind?"

Hermione also nodded, but only as if agreeing to something unpleasant.

· What were they talking about? Ron asked, content to be ignorant.

· About little Paulina finally having to go to her parents - answered Mrs Weasley. "He can't stay here any longer, it's dangerous for him."

· And who would you like

to give it to Hermione? Harry inquired.

She rested her head on the table and stopped eating.

· When I visited France with my parents, I met a lovely wizarding couple who couldn't have children. They were very nice, they even helped me with my summer history of magic paper... I thought I'd entrust Paulina to them. I already wrote them the letter and they wrote back saying they would be very happy about it.

Harry shook his head, but only imperceptibly – he didn't like Hermione's idea. - And when do you want to leave, my dear? Mrs Weasley asked as Harry and Ron helped her unpack

the table.

· As soon as possible. I thought we'd travel the Muggle way, because it's safe and… "… and long as hell," interrupted Harry.

Hermione shrugged. Aunt Muriel cleared her throat.

· I have some influence at the Magic Transport Station - began the aunt. – My previous ministerial status has been restored, so theoretically I can travel on the station for free. Me too, and whoever I'm taking. So, how about we round up tomorrow and the five of us, Hermione, the little one, Harry, Ron and I have a nice visit to Paris. There, we only have to use the local hop network, and we'll be with your friends in no time.

"That would be very nice Muriel," interjected Mr. Weasley. "You would turn around in a day, safely."

The others nodded, but Hermione, who was about to speak, noticed that the little girl was listening to what they were saying from the stairs.

· Paulina…

· Do you want to send me away? - the little girl asked in an inquisitive manner.

Hermione was very embarrassed for a moment, this was not the way she wanted to break the news to Paulina.

· Look, this is a dangerous place, and we can't take care of you all the time...

"You say the same thing as my mom," the little girl grumbled softly, but everyone in the kitchen heard it.

· Here you go?

· They told me at the orphanage. He left me there because he couldn't take care of me.

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. He got up and went to the little girl, but Paulina continued undisturbed.

· They said he left me because he was scared. Are you scared too? "I… I…" Hermione stammered. "Paulina, I'm sorry, but I'm not ready for that either."

· You don't have to, you'll get used to it! the little girl said fiercely, bringing smiles to Aunt Muriel and Mr Weasley's faces. Hermione, however, was becoming more and more desperate.

"You can't stay with me, understand," Hermione stated.

· But... but couldn't I stay a little longer?

· We have to go tomorrow...

Paulina puffed herself up in an instant and looked at Hermione with a flushed face. For him, her decision was clearly cruel.

· I hate you! the little girl snapped and left the kitchen.

Hermione looked after him sadly and threw herself down on one of the chairs. Harry and Ron looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.

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"Hermione…" Harry addressed the girl. Hermione reluctantly raised her head, her eyes veiled. "Why did you bring him from the orphanage if you now want to entrust him to someone else?"

Hermione answered after a long silence, her voice unusually uncertain and quiet. "I… I'm only eighteen Harry," he folded his head, then buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply. "How can I take care of him?"

"He's been with us for a month now," said Aunt Muriel. "He's clinging to you." - That's the

problem! she answered. "I can't raise you, you have to entrust it to someone else... and especially not here." If he's with us… if he's with me, he'd only be in danger.

He jumped up from his chair and started pacing around the kitchen nervously.

· I shouldn't have brought it from there! he said suddenly. "I should have left him at the orphanage."

· You are just like Dumbledore! Harry cut in, and he didn't mean it as a compliment.

· What do you mean? Hermione was puzzled. The others also frowned. - He also constantly

felt guilty about the decisions he made by listening to his emotions. That's why I said you're like him. Hermione, you're the smartest girl I know, but you shouldn't always listen to your gut.

"But I made the wrong decision..." Hermione shook her head.

"No," Harry said firmly. "You've made a decision, and you can't see the result yet." You don't know what would have happened to it if you left it there, but that's not important anymore. You have to make a new decision. That's all that matters.

Hermione stopped her nervous pacing and fixed her brown eyes on Harry. "You learned that well," he remarked.

Harry smiled but she was still troubled.

· I have to take him out of here! Hermione moaned. "He can't stay here... I'll talk to him!"

He stormed out of the kitchen with that. Harry and Ron slowly followed her upstairs and went to their rooms. They plopped down on their beds in silence, got comfortable and stared at the ceiling, but the rest was only undisturbed for a few minutes.

· Harry! said a quiet voice behind Harry, from under the pillow, and they both flinched. "Harry Potter!"

· What is this? Who is speaking? Ron shook his head, but Harry already knew what he was talking about.

He immediately jumped and grabbed the small twin mirror from under his pillow, which was dimly lit. He saw Ginny's face in the mirror.

· What is it, Harry? Like Ginny's voice… Wow! Ron exclaimed when he saw his sister's face in the mirror.

· Hello! - greeted the girl, but contrary to her habit, there was no trace of cheerfulness on her face.

· Where is this mirror from? Ron wondered.

· I got it from Sirius, I'll tell you later... Tell me Ginny, did you find anything? She nodded seriously.

· Yes, I found out who Rose Montgomery is, but… it would be better if I could tell you in person. This is not the real thing. when can you come

· Not tomorrow, but the day after tomorrow for sure - answered the boy.

· That would be great - Ginny's face brightened for a moment - we could meet.

Harry smiled.

it will be saturday and we can go down to Hogwarts. There

· All right. Let's meet behind the Three Broomsticks, but we have to be careful not to be noticed.

· Good, then on Saturday. Take care of yourself!

Ginny's face disappeared from the mirror and Harry punched the air in joy along with Ron. Finally! Another clue to Horcruxes and the end of the war.

On the morning of Friday, Harry was the first of the group to leave. By the time Hermione and Paulina stumbled down the stairs, Harry had already made a quick breakfast of toast, eggs and a cup of tea.

· Where is Ron? Hermione asked and yawned.

"He's sleeping like a log," answered Harry, who was already fully awake, he was over the yawning minutes.

While Harry and Hermione were still tucking into their breakfast, Paulina quickly finished it and went to the bathroom without a word. Harry watched the little girl walk away, then turned to Hermione.

· How was he when you spoke to him? the boy asked in a whisper. Hermione swallowed the morsel, but looked like it was stuck in her throat.

"Very bad," she sighed sadly. "He said… he said I'd leave him like his mother."

He hasn't said a word to me since last night.

"Don't be surprised," Harry said matter-of-factly. "It's not easy for orphans, you can believe me." They cling tooth and nail to those from whom they receive love.

Hermione rolled her eyes and boredly continued eating her breakfast.

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The slamming of the door from upstairs indicated that Ron had also woken up, and indeed, after a few moments, the boy appeared in the kitchen door with a very grumpy face.

· Mu-mu-must get up so early? the boy yawned and rubbed his tired eyes.

"We need to get back as soon as possible Ron," Hermione replied. "We can't stay there long."

Not long after Ron, Aunt Muriel also woke up and radiated her usual cheerful mood to the Harrys, who were having a good time getting dressed - except for Paulina, who still didn't say anything.

· Well, are you ready? asked the aunt, when the four young people put on their shoes and jackets and lined up in the living room. The Harrys nodded, Paulina stubbornly turned her head away.

· Right then Hermione, you go first with Paulina.

Hermione stepped forward and took the little girl's hand. Paulina obeyed, and for a moment forgot all her annoyance when she saw them going towards the fireplace, into the flames of which Aunt Muriel was now scattering green powder. The flames flared a little as they turned an emerald color, and Paulina squealed in fright. Hermione closed the little girl's eyes and spoke soothing words to her.

· Don't be afraid, it won't burn you. take it easy…

Finally they stood in front of the fire, where the warm tongues of flame tickled the two girls, Paulina even giggled a little, but Hermione held her close, told her destination and they disappeared.

When Harry was the last to make it through the fire, he looked around the pub area of the Spotted Cauldron, which rang empty. Only Tom, the innkeeper, was here, and he had already come to meet them with a bright face, but Aunt Muriel refused to serve them.

· Thank you, but we're not asking for anything now, Tom, we're in a hurry - with that he started towards the back exit of the inn, followed by the Harrys.

The small backyard looked the same as always. Only a few bins occupied most of the area here. Harry looked up between the high walls at a small slice of open sky, on which gray, angry clouds floated. Even in this protected place, Harry shuddered at the thought of what kind of wind might be howling outside.

Aunt Muriel held out her long, elegant wand and tapped the tip three times on one of the bricks. Paulina watched the operation with curiosity.

At the third tap, a small hole appeared in the brick, which soon widened into a passage, and the winding street of Abszol út was revealed behind it.

Hermione turned to the stunned Paulina.

· Welcome to Abszol Street.

Harry was quite surprised when they stepped out into the street from behind the protection of the high walls: there was no wind at all - at least not so much that the clouds were almost flying across the sky.

"Hold on, I'll find my cloak..." Harry said and began searching the Bottomless Sack.

However, no matter how hard he concentrated on his invisibility cloak, it would not appear in his hand.

· What is it, you don't have it? Ron asked.

· I don't understand... but I remember that I already put it in at the Black house. Harry scratched his head in confusion.

· Great! Ron growled. "Didn't you leave your magic wand at home, just so we would be completely defenseless?"

"Relax Ron, we're not in danger," Hermione reassured, although Harry guessed that the girl's words did not fully cover his opinion.

Hermione took the little girl by the hand and she and Aunt Muriel went forward to show Paulina the street that had seen better days, the shops of which were closed - and not just because of Halloween and the upcoming Day of the Dead.

Pictures of circled Death Eaters were visible on the walls and doors of the shops, on which the Ministry's notices were also placed. The old, usual patrol posters were replaced by some new ones, and there was a text warning mages to be careful about goblins. Photos of goblins were not published, Harry said, because the Ministry was only groping in the dark.

· Because of them you have to send me? Paulina asked Hermione, who was surprised at first that the little girl was talking to her again, but quickly answered.

"Yes, baby," Hermione nodded sadly. "It's dangerous for you to be here now, because there's a war." But wherever I send you, you will be safe.

· I don't care about security! the little girl shouted.

"But I do," Hermione shook her head. "I don't want you to get in trouble."

As they moved farther and farther away from the passage that had been closed in the meantime, Harry was still looking at the sky and the rushing clouds that seemed to be swirling around a point that was still covered by the high walls of the house. "Dementors..." Harry hissed between his teeth and pulled out his wand. Ron, walking beside him, did the same.

They passed the old magic supply store, under the boarded-up windows of which lay tumbled cauldrons and tossed crates, they left Quidditch's best store, Fred and George's Magic Joke Shop, which

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unlike the other shops, it had a warm light from its windows, and so did Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, which had been defunct for over a year, and Harry slowly realized that there wasn't a living soul on the foggy street apart from them.

When they left the cover of the Ice Cream Parlor, the point of the sky around which the clouds were doing their crazy orbit was revealed. Before Harry's eyes was the most unnatural sight he could imagine: a swarm of fifty or so black dementors whirling round and round, ceaselessly, and around them the clouds flowed into a deadly ring.

Where they merged, a funnel stretched out through the swarm of Dementors, somewhere into a muggle street. A tornado swept through the streets of London, destroying shops and houses - although Harry could only imagine it, he could not see anything inside. The houses of Absol Road, visible only to wizards, obscured Muggle London, showing only the sky and the barbarian attack taking place there.

Harry was furious at the sight of this and pointed his wand at the Dementors. But before he could cast the patron charm on them, Aunt Muriel saw what he was up to and grabbed his hand.

· Don't! - warned the aunt. "You would draw their attention to us."

· I can drive them away! Harry growled angrily. - They do -

retorted the aunt, then pulled Harry's hand off. She pointed in the other

but not them anymore! -,

direction, where another group of dementors was preparing to attack above the houses.

· How many such monsters are there? Paulina asked meowing, looking at the black creatures in horror.

· More than it should be... - muttered Ron and slowly started walking down the street, encouraging the others to go as well.

· What if they hurt us? the little girl trembled.

· They are busy with someone else right now - Hermione reassured, then bent down and picked up the little girl, carrying her on. "Do you understand why I have to take you away from here?" It is very dangerous for you to stay here.

Paulina didn't say another word. The group of five marched along Abszol Street, paying attention to everything - the sky and the ground around them. Harry often looked back to see if anyone was following them, and Ron and Aunt Muriel peeked into the alleys that opened to the left and right.

After about twenty minutes of slow marching, Abszol út widened and opened into a fifty-meter circular space, which, according to the worn, slanted sign, was El tér.

The square was covered with the same cobblestones as the surrounding streets, tall buildings rose up around it, each of them one of the wizards' institutions - there were no houses here. And in the middle of the square was an interesting statue depicting birds, which according to legend was erected by Hedvig Hollóháti herself, but there was no proof of this.

Harry was amazed at how many important buildings were located here. The building to their left was the main building of the Transformation Research Institute, according to the golden inscription engraved on its facade.

To the right, the center of the British Association of Diviners rises according to the coat of arms next to the entrance.

In addition, three other institutions were located on the square, among them the combined headquarters of the Obscurus publishing house and the Prophet, the imposing building of the London Wizarding Library and Harry's destination: the Magical Transport Station.

The Station building reminded Harry of a beautiful train station. Its wide, massive wall occupied half the space, and its entrance was made up of shiny glass doors, which stood invitingly wide open onto the deserted El tér. High on the facade, a beautiful rose window decorated the building.

Harry, Hermione, and Paulina could only stop to wonder for a moment, because Ron and Aunt Muriel skipped the stares and went right on their way. Harry wasn't surprised by this, he guessed that the two golden-blooded mages had visited this building quite a few times.

When they entered through the open door, they came to a large hall supported by pillars. The floor was covered with massive stone tiles, which now welcomed those who entered in a dirty, neglected manner - just like the unkempt parquet of the Ministry. The ceiling was decorated with a fresco depicting wizards and witches riding brooms and flying through the sky with a flock of birds. The characters of the fresco moved around and around on the voluminous ceiling.

To Harry's right and left by the door, polished knight armor lined the floor of the Ministry Secretariat or the corridors of Hogwarts.

Opposite the entrance, at the far end of the hall, there was a small, half-meter-high screen with revolving doors, through which those who bought tickets at the ticket counters on the right side could pass. Only two witches with sleepy faces rested their heads in the booths, and one of them even fell asleep and snored loudly.

There were only a few people loitering in the room with packages at their feet, and if Harry's eyes weren't deceiving, one of the tall, blue- haired women had a Bottomless Sack. Together with the Harrys, there were about fifteen people waiting for the trip.

· Wait here, don't go anywhere - Aunt Muriel instructed them, and then she started towards the booth of the ticket clerk who was awake.

It only took a few seconds for him to exchange a few words with her, and it seemed that he also showed his ministry card. He happily returned to the Harrys.

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· Everything is fine, we can go now - he said and pointed towards the revolving doors. "I managed to arrange for them to set our zip lock first."

Aunt Muriel started towards the screen, Harry trailing after her.

"Aunt Muriel," Harry addressed the woman. "I don't understand something."

· What don't you understand, Harry? - the aunt raised her eyebrows.

· Why do we need such a station if the spanners are taken to the site? When Ron and I went to see you, Mr. Weasley had to place an order at the Ministry for a wrench, which was then placed on Ermine Hill.

Aunt Muriel listened politely to Harry's question, then answered with a smile.

· Well indeed Harry, the most used mode of transport is the zip wrench delivered to the site. Traditional zip-locks take people almost from door to door, although it is a common rule that they drop people off a few hundred meters from the real destination - for safety reasons. You can only travel from the Station to another station, to another country – as he spoke, they arrived at a revolving door that let them all through without a problem.

After the screen, a wide, ten-meter-long corridor awaited them.

· These keys don't take you to houses - continued Aunt Muriel, and at the same time, y-,ou can't travel to an area controlled by another magical governing body with zip keys that can be ordered. Of course, there are exceptional occasions, such as the Quidditch World Cup, when it is not possible to direct every single traveler to the stations, because it would be overcrowded.

In addition, at that time it was expedient to send the people to the place of the decision right away, so that they would not cause so much chaos.

Harry listened carefully to the aunt, but when they crossed the corridor, the aunt finished speaking - though Harry wasn't sure of that in hindsight, because he hadn't heard a thing since he entered the gigantic hall, until astonishment occupied every cell of his brain.

He arrived at the largest built space he had ever seen. The glass-domed, steel-framed building was larger than Hogwarts' Great Hall, the Ministry's atrium, or Gringotts' main hall.

The corridor led to a high platform, from which one could descend via flights of stairs into the slide-key launch hall itself. It consisted of practically smooth sidewalks running the length of the entire hall, widening here and there into a hexagonal shape. Those who received their ticket and the starting number of the zip key were guided by small signs to the appropriate sidewalk, and after walking along it to the correct hexagon, where they had to wait until the zip key appeared.

Everything worked according to the exact timetable, which travelers could find out about from the clocks floating in the air.

More doors opened from the platform to different places. As Harry followed his friends past them, he glanced at each of their boards. Among them were a broom storage, a zip-lock control center and a transport area - this is where the keys were set for the trip.

· This… this is fantastic! - snapped Harry, and when he looked at Hermione, he saw that she was also impressed by the sight, although there was not a complete shock in her eyes - she had obviously seen a picture of the Station in one of her books.

· Huh! - exclaimed the little girl when they entered the hall, and she has been saying this ever since, sometimes quietly, sometimes louder.

· Well, follow me, our key will start working in ten minutes - Aunt Muriel urged them, after she had set one of the clocks.

Aunt Muriel has already started on the line marked with the sign 150-170. Harry was the driver, but when he passed by the transporter's place, the door suddenly burst open, and something pushed Harry to the side. He was so frightened by the swinging door that he fell, but instinctively drew his wand forward.

· Harry! Ron shouted and ran back to his friend, but Harry was already on his feet by then.

· I told you a thousand times to check that damned key twice before you drive it! shouted the bearded man, who carelessly slammed the door. Behind him strode a young man with a scarred face, who was probably an apprentice and had recently started work, because Harry remembered his face from his early years at Hogwarts.

· Last time we also sent a vampire to Kenya who wanted to go to Iceland, and half the Ministry was already on our necks, and they accused us of discrimination! - the man continued, then noticed Harry and glared at the hand holding the wand. "What do you need that for?"

"Nothing…" Harry muttered and put his wand away.

· Next time, be careful before you open that lousy door! Ron snapped at the Station employee. He wasn't as forgiving as Harry. "He pushed my friend up."

· What are you talking about? the man retorted with a grunt. It looked like he was having a bad day. "The door is about a meter away from the 'young lord'" Harry didn't like the emphasis the way the man spoke to him at all. For a moment he felt like reaching for his wand again, but then he put it down. Annoyed, he dusted off his pants and followed Hermione, who was watching the events with interest with Paulina and Aunt Muriel, but they did not interfere.

They walked on the sidewalk for a good hundred meters, a long barrier ran next to them, which separated them from the other sidewalk. In the hall, nearly ten people were still preparing for the trip. When the Harrys arrived at launch site 167, nicely

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they stood around in the slices of the hexagon, one side was left empty. Harry observed a Chinese couple two rows to their right touching a shiny golden orb at that moment. A few moments later, they disappeared in the blink of an eye. Harry hoped they didn't end up in Wellington instead of Beijing, as he was a little worried about their own journey.

· Now we just have to wait a little bit - Aunt Muriel mostly explained to Paulina, who had no idea what they were waiting for. "Seven more minutes and our sphere will appear..."

During the minutes of waiting, Harry noticed a few more things in the hall that had escaped his attention until now. One of the interesting things were the old railroad tracks running along the two outermost sidewalks. At one end of the rails, golden spheres floated in the air, waiting for the arrival of the heavy wooden crates floated onto the carriages rolling on the rails at the front of the hall. When the spheres touched the crates, they immediately disappeared - who knows where. The vacated cars returned to the front of the hall on the other rail.

The other thing was the continuation of the high platform that ran along both sides of the hall, with fireplaces lining its walls, just like in the ministry atrium. Harry then had another urgent question, but Hermione was more observant - she noticed first, so she asked first.

"Aunt Muriel," Hermione tapped her on the shoulder. – why couldn't we come here through the fireplace? The room is full of fireplaces.

Aunt Muriel shook her head.

· These are closed - said the aunt. Last time there was some problem in the transport locality, which is the center of the entire hop network. It was in the Morning Prophet, didn't you read it? - Um... it could have escaped my notice -

she answered.

Then, however, something happened that could not escape the attention of anyone, except the one who was completely deaf: the sound of a siren was heard in the hall, and immediately after, a calm, informative female voice.

· Attention! Security notice: Wizards are requested in the transporter room. Level 3 security alert… Attention! Security…

The voice repeated the text twice more, then went silent.

· What could have happened? Harry looked around and saw three wizards on the platform running towards the door in question with their wands drawn, which hit Harry sideways.

· Huh! They must have stabbed something again - Ron waved with a nonchalant smile on his face. "It's been a complete madhouse here since..."

Ron couldn't finish the sentence as the next voice that filled the hall drowned everyone out. A sizzling, hissing sound was heard as the sealed fireplaces started working again and immediately spewed green flames from themselves towards their chimneys.

· Wasn't it about these not working? Hermione frowned.

· This could have been a security problem - thought Ron, and Harry agreed with his friend for about half a minute.

At that moment, however, the flames of the fireplaces that had started to operate again, and from a hundred fireplaces, armed to the chin, marching knightly armor came out.

· WHAT THE HELL?! - Harry fainted, then jumped back in fright when the golden orb appeared in front of him - the wrench.

· Quick! Aunt Muriel urged them. "Get him!"

· What's going on? Paulina squealed in fright.

· What do they want?

· What's going on here?

Everyone in the hall was scared or watched the events in bewilderment. They did not suddenly understand what an army-sized armored soldier meant - since no one had seen such an army for hundreds of years.

The marching armors marched with thunderous steps, jumped off the platform with a disconcertingly deep thump, and started towards the Harrys. The five of them stood closest to the row of fireplaces on the left, and they watched frozen as the armored men now drew their long swords forward and moved on with them raised over their shoulders. - My God! What do they

want to do? "Hermione couldn't think with a cool head either, she was slowly overcome by fear, like everyone else." There were those who tried to run away, but the soldiers marching on the platform were the first to block the exits. And the rest moved towards them unwaveringly.

It wasn't even half a joke. Harry looked at the clock and saw that there was still a minute until the wrench started. They won't escape in time.

· Harry! What do you do? Aunt Muriel shouted when she saw the boy let go of the spanner and pull his wand away.

Ron did the same.

· Stay! Harry ordered sternly. "Don't let go of the key!"

Harry and Ron hurried towards the armored men, who were only twenty meters away from the launch pad.

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· Immobile! Harry said the spell to himself, and the tip of his wand glowed blue. The armor he was aiming for swayed slightly as a result of the curse, then continued to march as if nothing had happened.

· What...? Harry moaned and repeated the charm, louder this time. The result was the same.

In the meantime, Ron also tried almost everything he had in his hand: rubber leg damage, leg cuffing curse, handicap damage, but it didn't work. In his final desperation, when one of the soldiers was only a few meters away, Ron swung his wand and called out, "Peponium caput!"

Miraculously, the armor's helmet turned into a Halloween pumpkin lantern. Ron's joy was short lived. The armor did stop for a moment, confused by the strange situation, but then raised its sword again and continued.

· Oh no! Hermione shouted when the armored men were terrifyingly close. Paulina also screamed from her throat, and aunt Muriel's eyes showed nervous fear, like when the minister threatened to arrest Harry.

· Wingardium Leviosa! Harry waved his wand, and the sword flew out of one of his armored hands.

Harry swung his wand to the right and then to the left, and the floating sword did the same. On the way, he cut off the upraised arm of the disarmed armor, with which he wanted to reach for his pallos, and also cut off two other knight's clothes.

There was nothing in the rolled down helmets, they were empty. There was no sign of blood or mutilated body parts. The decapitated armors staggered back and forth, and finally collided with each other and fell.

Ron also used Harry's idea: he hit the pumpkin head armor with a shattering curse, and the Halloween lantern splattered. The armor wobbled, then lunged at one of his comrades, knocking him to the ground.

However, this did not help the Harrys, who retreated back to the ziplock. Ten armors slowly surrounded them, the rest moved on unwaveringly, towards the other terrified travelers, who also tried all kinds of curses, but they bounced off the armors. Harry was the one who had the most success with the sword, but he didn't get anywhere with it.

Only three meters...

The armor took their last steps with a thud.

· Don't! Do something! Paulina cried.

Two meters...

The swords held to the shoulders rose high, above the heads of the armor.

· Aunt Muriel! Hermione shouted and hugged Paulina.

One meter...

The armor stopped. Their upraised swords did not strike me down. Menacingly, they stiffened like a statue, holding the people in check.

· Huh… - Ron let out a spectacular sigh, his wand hanging limply at his side.

Harry looked at his friend and nodded. Ron understood and they reached back between Hermione and Aunt Muriel, their fingers touching the zip lock.

· Soon, soon... - Aunt Muriel whispered. "Seven seconds… six… five… four… three… two… one.

However, the zip wrench didn't go anywhere. The sudden tug at the navel, the unmistakable feeling of the rushing swirl, are gone. They didn't go anywhere, and the armor surrounded them with their swords held up.

· What happened?

· How can this be?

· Yes!

Several people who were in a similar situation to Harry's shouted. Paulina cried non-stop, Hermione and Aunt Muriel blinked in fright, Ron and Harry panted nervously.

Harry had to wait the longest five minutes of his life before he could get any sort of explanation for what had happened.

His wait ended when the information speaker rang again - but this time it was not the usual calm female voice, but a tall, thin male voice.

· Ladies and gentlemen, dear witches and wizards! - began the voice, and Harry immediately realized that this was not going to be a simple information.

"Please calm down," continued the man, whose voice was very familiar to Harry. "As you can see, my soldiers don't hurt you, they never intended to." We will escort you out of the Station area in a few minutes, I hope you understand that unfortunately you will have to cancel your planned trips for a while.

As of this moment, the Magic Transit Station is owned by Gringotts Bank and is under the control of its office. All of this can be classified as retaliation for the unjust and violent policies of the British Ministry of Magic. From today, magical transport in Great Britain will suffer unprecedented damage until the Ministry reviews its anti-goblin laws of the past three years.

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If the Ministry does not negotiate with us, this measure will be considered an official declaration of war and will entail further measures.

An angry hissing and indignant shouting was heard in the hall; For the time being, the Harrys were speechless about the shock. As he looked over the faces of his friends, Harry saw the most varied emotions on them.

Hermione was a little relieved to hear that they weren't going to get hurt, so she was able to think now - it showed because she was spinning her head around the room like she was already racking her brain over a problem. Ron was run over by the turkey poison, his ears turned slightly red, his hands were clenched into fists, but he was so strong that he was afraid he would break his wand. Paulina continued to sniff and glare at the menacing, petrified warriors. Aunt Muriel looked a little confused, but her fright was gone. He had already let go of the useless golden orb and was now holding Paulina's hand, then spoke softly, which managed to gain attention.

· Okay, now... let's go now, okay? he looked around at the company. "They said they would let us go..."

Ron, put it away, there's nothing you can do now! - instructed the aunt, when her eyes fell on her nephew's magic wand. "Harry, you too!" Let's not show resistance. Come after me.

He slowly took a step towards the nearest armor, and when it didn't move, he stepped forward a little more bravely. The armor suddenly acted, causing both Aunt Muriel and little Paulina to squeal, but their fear was unfounded. The armor lowered its sword, and with it stepped back with a nice, dynamic movement. Pallosa now rested at his feet.

Aunt Muriel started among the armored warriors in the direction of the nearest staircase, and they made their way to the exit as fast as they could. So did the other people, there was only one foolish mage who was still casting his curses on the soldiers.

They finally had enough of the annoyance, and one of them hit the wizard on the head with the blade of his pallosa. He couldn't have been seriously hurt, but he was gone like a sack.

As Harry climbed the steps to the platform, he looked over the heads of the hundred soldiers. Everything in the hall worked like clockwork. The knight's armor occupied the Station in an instant, and Harry saw a few goblins dressed in colorful clothes making their way towards the fireplaces. They weren't the terribly old goblins seen at Gringotts, but young ones - although Harry couldn't tell their ages because he didn't know how long a goblin lived and there were both boys and girls. Most of them wore red or green jackets -w, ith large buttons, brown or black trousers and pointed toe boots. Their brown, red hair hung in long braids over their shoulders, and they each had a small leather bag.

However, there was one among them who was dressed differently. He stepped out the door of the transporter just as Harry took his eyes off the young goblins. Harry froze for a moment in recognition and his hands clenched into fists: it was the goblin in the black hood who had killed Cornelius Fudge. The goblin immediately smiled when he saw Harry, who put his fear aside and started towards him.

· Harry! Come on, we can't stay here! Hermione said nervously when she saw that Harry was lagging behind.

· Just go, I'll come too - Harry avoided further urging.

· Are you sure? Ron asked hesitantly, looking at the smiling goblin.

· Sure, it won't be a problem...

Harry could now finally get a better look at the assassin. He was slightly older than the other goblins present, but his brown hair had not yet begun to turn gray. He wore a small goatee, had a pointed nose and ears, but otherwise looked human. She barely surpassed Paulina in height, and it is likely that she reached her final size. He was wearing a dark brown jacket and trousers, of the same cut as the young men, with a black traveling cloak over it, and on his feet also black boots with curled up toes. He looked like a very classy goblin.

"I didn't think you'd be here, Chosen One," said the goblin instead of a greeting. "Just like I didn't think you'd be here," Harry answered.

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Harry wondered if even the goblins could legimate.

"You know who I am, but I have no idea who you are," Harry pointed out, and the goblin immediately answered.

· My name is Ampók. I'm an assistant clerk at Gringotts… I was," he corrected himself a moment later.

The name sounded familiar to Harry, but he didn't know where it came from.

Ampók continued:

· Now I have a more important task. The Bank's managers entrusted us with the development of the new system, the enforcement of our interests, and...

· Murder? Harry cut in angrily.

The goblin raised an eyebrow, not smiling now. He answered quietly: - I told you not to feel sorry for Cornelius Caramel. He was a murderer who deserved no better…

Harry laughed to his surprise.

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· Murderer? Just don't say that you took what was written about Caramel in Hírverõ! Breading goblins, drowning them in water, nah... I can't believe it. Fudge was a cowardly old man, there was no way he would have tried such a thing…

The goblin put his hands in his pockets and waited patiently for Harry to finish what he had to say.

· What was written in Hírverõ was indeed an exaggeration, but like most rumors, it also had a basis in reality. Fudge brought a lot of measures that required goblin lives.

Harry wasn't laughing anymore, he was listening to Ampók's words.

· You called me a goblin the last time we spoke...

· Yes, we named it that among ourselves. Two years ago, on behalf of the Ministry, we carried out drilling under the streets of London, explained Ampók. - The minister wanted to expand the mages' offices with new buildings, because there were no more places on the surface that could be safely inspected.

Our experts said that the tunnel that they want to excavate along the length of the city center could collapse at any time because we ran into loose ground, but the ministry did not listen to us. They deceived our miners who operated the machines

· they signed a contract obliging them to complete the work under any circumstances. Mages didn't have the teeth to roam the earth.

· The cave collapsed, didn't it? Harry asked, nodding as he did so.

· Exactly, Ampók hissed. – And the Ministry did not express their regret in any way, they were not even willing to pay, because we did not complete the work. And that was just one of his injustices. Fudge was disgusted by magical creatures, giants, mermaids, centaurs, but we were the best. He needed our gold. He called us greedy and stingy because we hoard gold. But we didn't take someone else's gold, and if we did, then rightfully so! - And what are you going to do now? Are you taking revenge on all mages for your

dead companions?

· No, Ampók shook his head. "I told you, Chosen One, not all wizards are my enemy." This is not revenge! The Ministry did something that was wrong, and we demand fair treatment in the future. The Ministry took the first step towards war, not us. They shed the first blood!

Harry nodded, his eyes straying to the young goblins who were now standing in front of the fireplaces, sprinkling the suffocating blue dust into the green fire. The flames faded and turned blue. Harry turned back to Ampo with a frown.

· What's the point of all this? Harry asked, glancing at the active goblins. - Oh, didn't

I tell you? Ampós looked into Harry's eyes with an evil grin. - We paralyze the hop network. You can no longer use your fireplaces, only for what a decent fireplace is for.

Harry looked up and let out a worried sigh.

"This is going to be a serious war," Harry said, trying to sound non-threatening. "Scrimgeur won't leave it at that."

· We know. But we have a few more tricks up our sleeve. "I see," Harry remarked. "How did you do it?"

Ampós giggled slyly as he walked towards the exit. Harry followed as they talked.

· Well, with your help, actually.

· Us?

Ampók laughed again, apparently enjoying the moment when he could initiate a sorcerer, how he was beyond their wits.

· You know, Chosen One, when I planned this attack, I first had to find a suitable house from which we could come here through the fireplace. Because we goblins cannot use wizards' fireplaces. In principle, we don't need it, but at all - our fireplaces are not connected to the hop network. We needed a way to get the army here. And for that, I found a great abandoned house in the summer, which soon turned out to be yours, Chosen One...

· Did you use my house to bring the army here? Harry huffed.

· Exactly - Ampók nodded. We had the fireplace, connected to the hop network, we just had to expand it with a little magic so that all the hundred ferrum could fit.

Harry shook his head in disbelief as he listened to the goblin's words.

· I thought the house was abandoned, so I left a suit of armor there with complete calmness. Later, when I found out that uninvited guests had arrived, I had to remove the traces. I broke into the house at night and took the armor to the Ministry to replace the old decorations in front of the Secretariat.

· So you keep them in check too?

· Yes, all your important institutions. The Ministry, Szent Mungo, and Azkaban will be in good order.

We will manage everything until you establish a reliable leadership. We won't hurt them - we won't kill them at all. Caramel was different… I had personal motives… this… that another time, when we get around to talking, wizard.

But look on the bright side of this, Chosen One! the goblin's face lit up. "Ferrums also take care of Death Eaters."

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· So will you help us? Harry asked what concerned him the most. This hope made him go to Ampó, the goblin with whom he had fought a hopeless battle in a suffocating cloud of dust just a month ago.

"We need a functioning wizarding world, and what the Death Eaters want is anything but functioning," the goblin answered simply, but Harry expected that.

Meanwhile, they reached the hall, where Harry noticed that the two armored soldiers standing at the door had also become more mobile. They stood at the door with swords drawn and watched the exits. Ron, Hermione, Aunt Muriel and little Paulina were already waiting for Harry in El Square.

· And how did you get through these fireplaces? They were closed... - Oh,

really, I forgot! said the goblin and reached into his coat pocket. "You helped me with that when I last visited your house, Chosen One." I saw this great piece of clothing and I just couldn't resist the temptation, so…" he held out the invisibility cloak to Harry with a contrite face, which glinted silver in the morning mist light, "… I borrowed it.

· You pushed me up when the door to the transporter's room was cut open, right? You were there, invisible. Then you opened the fireplaces.

Ampós nodded. They reached the glass door where the goblin stopped by one of the armors and patted its shiny shield.

· Well, thanks for all the help, Chosen One. Speaking of help! the goblin remembered. "Did you think about what I said?" How can we mutually benefit each other?

"Not really," Harry lied and glared at Ampó. "You know, it's hard for me to think about anything when my head is smashed into the floor."

Ampók laughed again.

"I'm sorry I was so rude, wizard." But you were so excited! But if I have to, I'll say it again - his face suddenly became very serious, there was no trace of joking. "A new order is being built here." This is probably the beginning of an all-out war, but we are trying to shed little blood. I say, Chosen One, we don't want retaliation, but to lay the foundations of a Ministry that doesn't always look where it can harm and cross. I guess you have also experienced the dark side of your leaders...

Harry didn't nod, but listened carefully to Ampók.

· What they started with the Immortal is your business, more precisely your business. Everyone will have a task in this war, and among them you are only one of the key players.

Since we are both without allies at the moment, I recommend that you consider which world you would be happier with: the one I propose or the one the Immortal has.

Harry looked deep into Ampo's eyes and felt that the goblin was telling the truth. He nodded slowly.

"I'll consider it," he said to the goblin, and with that he walked out the door. His friends shivered in the cold and looked at him with worried eyes.

· Yes, and Chosen One! Ampók said afterwards. "Good luck in the future!"

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Chapter 16

The experimental subject

Another declaration of war

The wizarding citizens of Great Britain woke up today to a strange, never-before-seen problem, which from the first moment gave rise to a lot of speculation. Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeur gave information this morning that the serious malfunction in the hop network was not an accident or the result of human error. The minister reported on a barbaric and illegal attack that was carried out against the Magic Transport Station yesterday morning.

"I regret to inform you that the September incident, the murder of former Minister Cornelius Caramel, and the abuse of several officials of the Ministry were followed by further unnecessary aggression on the part of the goblin population.

Kobold separatists broke into the building of the Magic Transportation Station yesterday morning and took the building under their control with a so far unknown, probably completely secret army. During the attack, several people were seriously injured, including two children. (More information about the mysterious army on page 4)

· The hop network has suffered irreparable damage, the fireplaces can no longer be used for traveling or conducting conversations - the outraged Scrimgeur informed the readers. At the same time as the Station, and during the course of yesterday, further attacks hit St. Mungo's Hospital, the Transformation Research Institute and the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

· The chief magician of the Wizengamot and the forty-nine members of the court unanimously voted for the need for special measures - the minister assures the readers. - We hereby inform the public that, based on the final decision of the Ministry of Magic, we are officially at war with the management of the Gringotts Wizarding Bank and the group of subversive persons in their employ as of today.

We ask that witches and wizards no longer have contact with goblins or goblin-born wizards. If it becomes certain that they are in contact with subversive persons, they will be immediately arrested and charged with conspiracy.

· We ask all mages to comply with the regulations for their own sake and for all of us, so that we can put an end to another war as soon as possible."

Detailed report of the incident against the Magic Transport Station: page 2.

"I don't understand that," Ron shook his head after reading the Morning Prophet out loud. The residents of the Prewett house gathered in the kitchen, where a delicious breakfast awaited them on the table, but after the newspaper arrived, no one felt like eating.

"You're not alone," Mr. Weasley growled, stroking his balding head.

· What do you not understand? - snapped Harry, who was silently listening to what was written in the newspaper, while hurriedly dressing in the hall. The Hogwarts meeting with Ginny was arranged for this morning. "The newspaper is full of rubbish, you should have gotten used to it!" Even children were seriously injured! Aunt Muriel also saw that no one was hurt by those armors...

"That's true," said the aunt quietly. "Only one person was hit, but he was not hurt."

· Harry dear, why are you so protective of them? asked Mrs Weasley who was now rushing over to catch Harry who was hopping on one leg and pulling on his boots as he momentarily lost his balance as he spoke.

Harry shrugged.

· Because I trust Ampós more than Scrimgeur - he declared and finally managed to pull on his boots.

"They say Hogwarts was attacked too," interrupted Hermione, who was trying to get little Paulina to eat a little.

The little girl was in a much better mood now that she had calmed down after the events of the previous day and regained her cheerful mood. However, this was not because of the safety again, but in a strange way precisely because of his opponent: he was glad that Hermione could not take him to his distant acquaintances.

· I'll look into it. "I have to go now," Harry concluded, slung his black traveling cloak over his shoulders, pulled his hood over his head, and stepped out into the pouring rain.

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Harry didn't hesitate, he immediately started down the sidewalk down the hill, which soon turned into a muddy path.

Gray clouds floated in the sky and poured rain continuously. In the distance, lightning zigzagged across the sky, and swirling clouds on the horizon hinted that the Dementors were wreaking havoc on Muggle cities.

During the previous evening, Hermione and Aunt Muriel had made a short visit to the nearest pub in Land's End to listen to the news circulating among the muggles. The news broadcast on the bar's TV finally enlightened them about what was going on in the "other" world.

The muggles watched the unnatural changes in the weather in bewilderment and horror, and in several places volunteers and the military were also forced to assist in the restoration of the damage caused by the disasters. Due to the rain, the rivers overflowed and overflowed their banks, flooding several villages and low-lying small towns. The tornadoes destroyed the larger cities that were home to more mages, although they did not cause serious damage.

Some chimneys collapsed, the walls of one or two older houses caved in, and tiles were blown off the roofs. Cars and streetlights suffered the most damage from the destruction, but no serious disaster occurred.

The Muggle meteorologists were mostly shocked by the completely unusual behavior of the whirlwinds, they had already accepted that nature had gone mad and was hitting the island country with tornadoes.

The tornadoes behaved as if they carefully selected the place where they would strike. Insignificant streets, business districts, and the neighborhoods of the rich were left untouched, mostly the average homes of ordinary people were attacked with full vigor, but here too only a few houses - Harry was not surprised by this, because they knew that most mages live among ordinary ordinary people and pretend to be ordinary people too. The news station also reported that during some of these destructions, the tornadoes dissipate in a few seconds and the sun comes out, preceded by a blinding flash of light in the destroyed houses. The muggles didn't even notice that a war between wizards and dementors was taking place before their eyes.

However, tornadoes didn't just destroy buildings. They had such manifestations when they appeared from one moment to the next, and always above crowds of people - in front of shopping centers, entertainment districts, hotels, and pounced on the terrified muggles. The buildings were left practically unharmed, only the people were picked up and lifted up by the deadly funnels. This worried the Muggle authorities the most. The people caught were all found, without exception, alive and in perfect physical condition. The only problem was that these unfortunates no longer reacted to anything that happened around them, they couldn't even speak, they just stared into nothing.

Harry and his companions also found an explanation for this, which the muggles would never have thought of - the dementors sometimes get hungry, and then they go to eat where there is the most, easy-to-grab food: muggle souls.

Harry slid down the slope, but eventually arrived at the bottom of the hill without a serious fall. Ahead of him lay the line that kept the Death Eaters away from headquarters, though from what he had heard on the news, Harry thought the line would hardly protect against a whirlwind.

He thought about this when he crossed the boundary line, and the familiar pain hit his forehead, which now came stronger than any time he had crossed the magical boundary. He cried out in pain and fell to his knees, his vision blurred, his ears began to ring.

· What are you doing Potter? a cold voice hissed in his ear. Harry cried out again, but now in terror.

· Where are you? Tell Lord Voldemort! ordered the voice in Harry's head.

· No! Get out of here! Harry yelled blindly and fell face forward into the wet grass in pain.

· It's no use trying any pathetic tricks! Voldemort's voice boomed. "No one can stop me now!" Not even the Chosen One.

"Leave me alone..." Harry moaned out of breath.

· Poor kid! Lord Voldemort continued to mock. "Oh, if you only knew... I won!" Definitive victory...

Voldemort laughed loudly, evilly, his voice rang in Harry's ears, who was surrounded by blackness and could not move from it, only wailing from the pain that split his forehead. He felt as if his head was splitting in two, his sense of time was lost somewhere, he didn't know where he was or when. All that was left was pain and laughter.

When his vision and head cleared, he became aware that he was lying on his back and looking at the sky. Cold raindrops fell on his face and mouth, which brought him to his senses. The pain in his wound was gone, only the terror that gripped his heart remained. He pushed himself into a sitting position with quivering limbs and looked down at his muddy clothes.

A hoarse sigh escaped his chest and he staggered to his feet. He pulled out his wand and freed himself from the dirt with steady movements.

He nervously looked around the hilly landscape, where he was completely alone, not a single created soul was here. Not far from him, two fat owls were roosting on a tree, one of which just flew up

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he headed off the branch and towards the house. Harry was sure the bird would notify Aunt Muriel somehow. He thought it best to move on quickly before he was ordered back to the house.

He increased his steps as much as he could, and set off among the hills—he did not feel the strength to undertake hill-climbing, so he wound his way through the valleys to the left and right, until he was two kilometers away from the Prewett house. Then he stopped, folded his invisibility cloak around himself, and concentrated on his destination.

And the next moment, after an unpleasant squeeze, he arrived at Hogwarts.

He hopped to the edge of the village, as he had planned, and slowly started towards the main street in the direction of Három Seprû. He looked from under his cloak at the hooded people who were walking in the village despite the rain. There weren't many people, just students and a few locals. They all went from one closed place to another with quick steps - at such a time, everyone liked to be under four walls and a rainproof roof, preferably with a mug of hot butterbeer.

Harry saw few familiar faces, out of his Gryffindor friends only Dean and Neville crossed his path. The two boys and a girl stood next to the Honey Eater, right next to the wall, so that the edge of the roof would protect them somewhat. As he got closer, he saw Neville holding the hand of the girl with brown hair in pigtails, who Harry thought he recognized as Susan Bones. He smiled involuntarily,

the sight of Neville and the husky girl dispelling some of the overwhelming fear that Voldemort's words had instilled in Harry. "I have won! Definitive victory…"

"He told you to leave him alone," said Neville to a grumpy Dean, who had his back against the wall.

"What's that got to do with you, Neville?" the boy growled at him.

Neville snorted, a strange mixture of laughter and warning.

"I have so much to do with him being my friend," said Neville. "And…"

· Your boyfriend? Dean cut in. "Or do you just want to be the next one to be kicked out?" Neville's face didn't even flinch, but Susan Bones, standing next to him, snarled indignantly.

· What do you think about yourself? Dean mocked, and hearing the boy's voice, Harry felt like he would like to punch his former roommate in the mouth. "He even dropped Harry in a couple of weeks, so why do you think he'd look at someone like you?"

· But you're a disgusting figure, Dean! she snapped at him and threw her arms around Neville, who showed no sign of being offended by the rude remark. "Doesn't it bother you that you say such things in my ear?"

Dean now turned to Susan.

"Shut up," said the boy carelessly, then looked in the window.

"Don't talk to me like that..." muttered the girl, who was visibly offended by the Gryffindor boy. "And just so you know, if I wasn't his girlfriend, Neville would definitely be more interested in Ginny after finding out what you look like..."

Dean laughed, Neville still didn't say a word, just listening to the argument between Susan and the boy.

· Come on Susan, don't make yourself laugh! What do you think Harry only had for a month? Because he still loves me.

Then the door to the Honeymoon opened and Ginny stepped out, wearing the same black traveling cloak as the invisibly listening Harry.

· I told you to get off me! - the girl threatened when she heard what her ex-boyfriend was talking about. - I told you not to act like an offended little goose.

Harry was so enraged by this that he grabbed his wand and pointed it at Dean under the cloak.

· I like to be a goose... - Ginny left and went on.

Dean didn't leave it at that. Going after the girl, he stepped out into the rain and called out to her. - Stop! can you hear I said…

Instead of grunting further, Dean fell to his stomach and sprawled in the mud. The passers-by, Ginny, Susan Bones, and Neville laughed loudly at the poreless boy. Neville waved his wand at the mud-spewing Dean, who suffered a nasty leg-binding curse.

· Thanks Neville! Ginny said cheerfully and started laughing to herself.

"Nothing," Neville smiled and received a kiss from his girlfriend, and then they continued to stand.

Harry followed Ginny and caught up with her at the post office.

· I'm right behind you, don't turn around! - Harry whispered in her ear, and she flinched for a moment, but did not stop, she continued.

They arrived in front of Három Seprû, where there was a small alley between the pub and the Zonko Csodabazará located next to it. Ginny stopped in front of the window of the miracle bazaar, as if she was only looking at the dung grenades, sparklers, and incense cartridges, but meanwhile she looked around the street. When he made sure that no one was watching him, he slipped unnoticed into the alley and stepped behind the large wooden chest propped against the side of the Three Broomsticks. Harry followed, and when he got to her, he twisted the cloak over Ginny's head so they were both invisible.

"Hi," Harry greeted, but Ginny stifled the words. He grabbed her by her messy hair and kissed her hotly. When Harry felt like he couldn't get enough air, he tore himself away from Ginny and panted with a grin. "I missed you too," Harry said. "You don't know how much..."

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Ginny didn't let him finish his sentence again and they kissed for several minutes behind the cloak. Finally Harry hugged him and they just held each other.

"It's good that you're here again," she said. "Everything was upside down." More people left today. Harry looked into Ginny's eyes and saw the sadness reflected in them.

· Because of the armor, right? Harry asked.

· It was all pure madness - the girl nodded. "I mean, those armors have been there for centuries, and now they've just turned against us..."

"They weren't," Harry shook his head. "They were replaced… But Ginny, did you see what happened?" "Yes," Ginny replied. "I came back from the library." How much you ask?

· Did they hurt someone? Anyone? Harry asked. "What exactly did they do?" Ginny shrugged and thought. - Um... they just went,

sword raised. They came towards us and... and... they didn't actually hurt anyone, but everyone was very scared. Professor Flitwick arranged it all in a minute, it was incredible! I saw it all.

He swung his wand and the armor's swords flew out of their hands, spinning and slicing them all to pieces.

Harry nodded, he understood everything. It seems that Ampós really told the truth and they just want to scare people - at least for now.

"Did Flitwick take care of them?" Harry asked as he remembered the warning in the newspaper. "And what happened to him?" The Ministry didn't hurt him, did he?

"No, fortunately," she shook her head. "But today, during breakfast, he told me that he had to leave for a while... He wants to avoid the embarrassing dismissal."

· McGonagall certainly not…

"It's not up to McGonagall, you know that," Ginny pointed out. "I know," Harry admitted sadly.

He took Ginny by the hand and quietly, hidden by the invisibility cloak, they exited the alley and headed towards the main road.

"He's got a madhouse," Ginny complained. "Sometimes I think about stepping down, like you."

In practice, we hardly learn anything, everyone has become so indifferent. Nobody cares about anything anymore, especially not learning.

Harry listened carefully to Ginny's words, trying not to trip over the edge of the cloak and the pebbles.

· Of course, I should study more now, but I got bookish after the RBFs... "Really..." Harry shook his head. "How did the exams go?"

A small red spot appeared on Harry's face, which Ginny also noticed, but she smiled. He was ashamed of himself for going out of his way to ask how his girlfriend's grades had turned out.

· Imagine, it all worked out - announced Ginny - Witchcraft, Transfiguration, magical self-defense, medicinal herbs, legendary creatures, muggle knowledge all K. Potions and astronomy V. History of magic E.

Harry noticed that there was no pride in her voice. And Ginny guessed her thoughts.

· Why are you smiling now? she retorted. "You know I don't care about tickets." I have plans of my own…" he finished mysteriously, Harry noticing the corner of his mouth curling into a smile. - And what are they? he wondered.

"Does it involve the Weasley Magic Joke Company?"

· Out of the question! Ginny stated. "Fred and George would be hanging around my neck all the time to monitor who I'm dating."

· And who are you going on a date with? Harry asked playfully.

Ginny laughed to herself. That was enough for Harry, but he noticed that she didn't answer his previous question. "Seriously..." Harry turned to her. "What are your plans?" Where do you want to work?

Ginny put her arms around him and they walked on.

· In the summer, Hermione and I talked about an idea - Ginny began. "We both thought it was a great idea to open a newspaper."

· A sheet? You mean newspaper?

"Yes," Ginny nodded. - The Breakfast Prophet was a good performance by being the mouthpiece of Caramel - now Scrimgeur... Many people canceled their orders, or the paper lost a hundred subscribers. Mother was among them, but she resigned for personal reasons.

So the bottom line is that according to Hermione - and I agree with her - a completely independent newspaper would be needed, which would not be an instrument of influence for the Ministry… perhaps yours instead, "Ginny glanced up at Harry's face.

· What? Harry was shocked, then laughed. "Ginny, I have no intention of speaking to the newspapers." I don't want to be a minister or what...

Ginny shook her head and sighed.

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· I didn't even say that you should become a minister, no! But people trust you more than they trust Scrimgeur, and they'd rather take your word for it than his.

Harry thought for a moment, but didn't think it was a good idea.

· Scrimgeur already wanted to arrest him, only because the Order of the Phoenix disobeys him. What would you do if they started lecturing people? Because you can be angry that I wouldn't say anything good about it...

"Yeah, I thought..." Ginny smiled. "But that's not a problem yet, you'll have time to think about it." You decide everything so slowly anyway. I had to wait five years for you too.

They didn't have to go far, a few meters after Három Seprû they reached the border of Hogwarts and here the road split in two directions. One led to the train station, the other to the castle. Harry and Ginny turned left and headed up the slightly rising road. They crossed the border of the estate through the gate decorated with winged wild boar statues and after a good half hour they entered the Hogwarts gate.

Being Saturday, all students spent their free time, some in the club rooms, others in the castle corridors. The prefects took care of the messy students, Mr. Frics was cleaning the mud from the floor of the entrance hall and pounced on a child passing by.

Harry and Ginny continued to climb the steps under the invisibility cloak, higher and higher. When they sneaked past the giggling Snowflake (he was in a good mood because he was throwing manure from the greenhouses at the girls coming out of the bathroom), Harry asked Ginny in a low voice where exactly they were going.

"To the principal's office," Ginny whispered in response. "I couldn't find anything about it in the archives, the Registry."

It wasn't even in the book, so I looked it up in the office. And there I finally found his name. McGonagall and Dumbledore have told you everything… as they are about to tell you. I arranged with McGonagall to wait in her office.

After climbing the stairs for a few minutes, they reached the level of the director's office and made their way towards the stone monster. Harry could have found it with his eyes closed, he had been to this place so many times. Arriving in front of the ugly stone statue, Ginny said the password ("Ulrik has struck!") and the monster jumped aside, revealing the spiral staircase. Here Harry finally took off the invisibility cloak, but looked around first, out of sheer caution.

Arriving at the door of the office, they knocked and entered the imposing study at the invitation of McGonagall. - Hello Potter! - greeted the director and offered them a seat.

Harry sat down in his chair and instinctively glanced at Dumbledore again. The former director looked at them with solemn seriousness, he didn't smile, he just squinted his blue eyes.

"A cup of tea, Potter?" the headmistress offered Harry. "Miss Weasley?" They both declined the favor, but McGonagall continued.

· Dandelion juice? Butterbeer? If you ask me, you'll need a refresher if you know what we mean. Harry looked at Ginny - she nodded.

· Then I would like a glass of dandelion juice.

McGonagall poured some of the juice into the prepared goblets, then sat straight in her chair and cleared her throat.

· Potter, I have to say, they wasted a lot of time and effort looking for Rose Montgomery by not contacting us right away. Of course, how could they know...

· Professor, when we found out that the lady was a witch, we first went to the Ministry because we were curious about her current address. We didn't think it could be found at Roxf...

"Not really," interrupted McGonagall. "I have to make this clear in advance." I don't know where Rose Montgomery has gone.

Harry sighed in frustration and leaned back in his chair. Another dead end. McGonagall continued.

· But I can provide you with some interesting information - McGonagall crossed her arms and stared at Harry with stern eyes. Harry felt like he did when he was little, like the professor had caught him in some kind of prank.

"When Miss Weasley couldn't find anything in the Big Book, she asked permission to look around the office among the old documents," McGonagall continued. – I helped with the research, but in the end it was Director Dippett who enlightened us when he overheard a conversation we had.

The portrait of the old headmaster nodded gravely at Harry.

· Headmaster Dippett said that Rose Montgomery was admitted to Hogwarts in 1947 without the Ministry knowing anything about it, namely at the suggestion of Professor Dumbledore.

Now Dumbledore's painting also nodded, but didn't interrupt, letting McGonagall continue. "Was Rose a muggleborn witch?" Harry interjected. "Or a member of the Montgomery family?"

"None of them," answered McGonagall. "Rose Montgomery is the only Muggle student ever at Hogwarts."

Harry dropped his mouth open in surprise. A muggle at Hogwarts? How is this possible? Ginny didn't say a word, silently listening to the explanation she had already heard.

"But… but why did they accept a muggle at Hogwarts?"

"Professor Dumbledore should tell you that," answered McGonagall.

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The portrait of the former headmaster now cleared his throat and looked at Harry from behind his half-moon glasses. "I brought Rose with me to cure her of an illness," Dumbledore answered simply.

"When Tom Denem killed Hepzibah Smith and disappeared, I ran into Rose quite by accident. But instead of just taking my word for it, why not check out the memory? offered the professor.

McGonagall frowned and nodded.

· Why not? - he said, and went to one of the cupboards, then took out a large stone vessel, the Merengõ.

Harry had seen and used this extremely useful magical item countless times, which was used to easily review memories.

· Do you have the professor's memories in a glass vial? Harry wondered.

"No, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "They are in a much safer place." Here - the professor pointed to his own painted shoes and smiled cheerfully.

Harry remembered what the professor had said about the paintings. They carry all the memories of the deceased.

McGonagall placed the Pendulum on the table and then turned to the painting of Dumbledore that hung on the wall a good eight feet above his head. To Harry and Ginny's astonishment, the headmistress swished her wand around her in a small semi-circle, and the next moment she was up enough to reach the portrait. McGonagall placed her wand against Professor Dumbledore's painted temple, and the next moment she pulled a thin thread of memory from the canvas of the painting. Professor McGonagall reached down and poured the memory into the bowl, where it coalesced into a swirling, half-liquid, half-gaseous substance.

"Order," the headmistress showed the bowl, and Harry knew what she was doing.

Without thinking, he dipped one of his fingers into the silvery substance and felt himself falling headfirst into the bowl.

He fell for a long time in the blackness, and slowly, on his feet, he arrived at a colorful street. It was a crowded street, full of wizards and witches, some selling their wares, others buying from them. The Absol has arrived on the road.

As soon as he realized where he was, Ginny landed next to him with a slightly scared look on her face. She had never been in someone else's memories before.

· After all, this is the Abszol road! - the girl exclaimed, then jumped aside in fright, when a grunting witch hurried past her towards the Üklopsz Owl Salon. - They... can't see us? Ginny asked.

"Of course not," Harry replied, and he smiled as he remembered how, on his first trip down memory lane, he tried to make sure that those sitting next to him didn't notice anything of his presence.

He even waved his hand then in front of Dumbledore sitting in meeting room ten.

The professor was standing right across from them, in front of Ollivander's wand shop, looking at the signs hanging in the window.

The prices and types of wands were listed on them. Professor Dumbledore was much younger than in the painting, with barely a few gray hairs in his beard compared to when he left Tom Denem for the orphanage.

Professor McGonagall also landed next to Ginny and asked if everything was okay. Harry and Ginny nodded, then started after Professor Dumbledore, who then entered the wand shop's door.

· Ah, Dumbledore! the young Mr Ollivander greeted the professor and they shook hands. "I'm glad to see you." "I'm glad too, dear Augustus," said Dumbledore cheerfully, and Ollivander offered him a seat. Dumbledore

politely declined.

· Well, what flight do I have? the wand maker clapped his hands together. Dumbledore pulled a broken, thick wand from his pocket and placed it on the counter.

· That would be my problem - answered the professor and pointed to the wand with his long finger.

Ollivander chuckled disapprovingly and shook his head.

· Were you able to break this masterpiece? It was one of the finest wands I've ever made, Ollivander lamented. "Willow, fourteen inches, with a phoenix feather core.

· I didn't break it, Augustus, you can believe that. I'm not in the habit of banging my wand against the wall when a charm fails, Dumbledore replied coolly.

Ollivander blinked strangely and leaned closer to his customer.

· Wasn't it him? he asked, lowering his voice mysteriously. "Not Grindelwald?"

"But yes, unfortunately that's how it happened," nodded Dumbledore. "But you can't be any more trouble now, can you?"

Ollivander nodded confusedly and picked up the broken wand. Now he wasn't giggling, he just put his monocle on his eyes and examined the magic device. Finally, he muttered a line and carelessly threw the wand back, which landed in a trash can.

· Please, dear Augustus! Dumbledore laughed. "Treat him with a little more respect." For over sixty years I have used…

· Reminds me! What have you been using since it broke? Why didn't you come to me earlier?

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"As you probably know, I've been very busy now that Grindelwald has finally been removed from the Wizengamot." I had to reorganize everything... What could I have done? Dumbledore shrugged. "I used his wand."

· Ah! - Ollivander waved overwhelmingly and headed towards the back of the shop, where the boxes containing the wands were stored on shelves reaching to the ceiling. "With those old Gregorovics wands, you can't get a summons together!" I don't even understand how that bastard got such magic power...

Ollivander thoughtfully picked through the boxes, but he hadn't decided on one yet.

"We don't understand, Augustus, neither do we," growled Dumbledore, his hands in his pockets. Then he added somewhat urgently: - I don't want to look uncarved, but could it be a little faster? You know, I still have a lot to do, both at school and at the Ministry.

· Wand buying can't be rushed Dumbledore! scolded the wand maker. "You know that the wand chooses the wizard and..." "... and not the other way around,"

the professor finished for him. "I know, Augustus, I know." But if I manage to finish the shopping by half past two, instead of money, I will pay you with something much more valuable.

From the door of the shop you could see Ollivander's eyes light up, and when Dumbledore pulled something out of his pocket and showed it to him, the wandmaker forgot everything and hurried back to the counter. Harry didn't see what the professor had taken, so he went ahead with Ginny and McGonagall. - Oh my goodness! Merlin's holy beard, well

he's got another one! God bless you Dumbledore! – Ollivander's face really shone as he accepted a small, red bird feather from the professor. Harry immediately recognized it as a phoenix tail feather.

· How did you get Fawkes to give you another one? Oh, I definitely won't be selling this for quite a few years! Another talented young wizard like Tom…" enthused Mr Ollivander. "I think I'll have to wait a long time before another talent like that crosses the threshold of my store."

· Hmm... - Dumbledore cleared his throat, and his face darkened strangely, his gaze was gloomy. "It's time, Augustus..." he warned the wand maker, who immediately remembered and hid the precious treasure in one of the drawers of his counter.

· Oh, of course! said Ollivander and hurried back to the boxes. He really rushed through the boxes one after the other, although Harry had no idea how the wizard was selecting them.

"Hmmm… I think that suits you," Ollivander frowned as he picked up a long purple box and started walking back towards Dumbledore. "Fifteen inches, holly, phoenix seed," Ollivander then winked at Dumbledore, and was about to open the box, when some wands fell from the shelf in the back of the store, and a thin voice called out in fright.

· Hey, you! Ollivander called back, and Harry saw a short, gray robed person pick up a box and run towards the back exit of the store.

· Stop, you little thief! - threatened Ollivander, and with the wand intended for Dumbledore, he went after the thief. Dumbledore sighed impatiently and stepped out the door of the shop into the sunlit street. The Harrys followed.

Standing in the street, Dumbledore rustled his long brown cloak and hopped off. The street disappeared from Harry's eyes, the multitude of people, gray fog covered everything, which cleared again a moment later. Dumbledore crouched against the back wall of the Owl Hall, smiling as Ollivander chased the short thief - to no avail. The gray robed man was much faster than him, but he couldn't have known that he was running straight for Dumbledore.

When the thief was about to turn the corner, at the last moment Dumbledore stepped in front of him, and he ran straight for him. He fell back and groaned in pain, but the professor didn't even budge. Harry and his two companions saw the thief, who could only be a child, point the stolen wand at Dumbledore. The professor smiled as if he saw a student playing a prank. Then Ollivander also arrived and disarmed the thief.

· You're done now! he said and caught the flying stick.

The child's hood slid back, revealing his face. Harry and Ginny gaped. The face hidden under the hood was eerily similar to Voldemort's. Although the person was a girl of around twelve years old, and her brown hair framed her face, there were worrying signs. His face was snow-white, like the plaster on the wall of the owl parlor, and his eyes were bloodshot.

His eyebrows had fallen out a long time ago, and the skin around his eyes had darkened, giving him terrifying, ghostly features. His mouth and nose were human, not distorted into a serpent like Voldemort's current appearance, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

· To Merlin! - Ollivander whispered - What kind of horror is this?

"He's not a horror, Augustus," Dumbledore frowned, Ollivander grimaced even more and

-, just a little girl.

didn't lower his wand. Dumbledore was satisfied and took the threatening magical device from the hand of the wand maker.

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The little girl - it could only be Rose, Harry was sure of that now s-h, e was on all fours, shuffling backwards in terror, but she kept her red eyes on the two wizards. He didn't say a word, but a threatening hiss erupted from his throat, like a cornered snake.

· Holy salamander! Ollivander muttered. "Dumbledore, this girl is a mouthful!"

Dumbledore squinted as he watched the girl, but did not raise his wand at her. He had nothing to fear from her.

· Do you think? - he asked absently and crouched down next to the little girl. The girl backed up to the wall in terror, still eyeing the wand.

· What's your name? Dumbledore asked kindly.

"Rose," a voice whispered softly, after a long pause. —Rose Montgomery.

Dumbledore lingered on the bloodshot eyes, the darkened circles around him, the dry, white lips. Then he looked over his shoulder at Ollivander.

"Trust me, Augustus," said Dumbledore. "I'll take care of him." Go back to your shop.

Ollivander hummed, but didn't dilate. - And his wand? What about his wand?

· This will do for now, he showed the piece in his hand. "If it doesn't work out, I'll come back to change it another time."

"All right then..." Ollivander rumbled. "All the best."

He left with that, leaving Dumbledore alone with Rose. The professor extended his hand to the little girl, who perhaps trusted him when she looked into the friendly blue eyes and took his hand. Dumbledore pulled the little girl to her feet and dusted her clothes with a single wave of his wand. Rose flinched in fright.

"You don't need to be afraid, I didn't hurt you," Dumbledore reassured, and put away his new wand, which Harry now noticed was identical to the one that Ron had given him during their last Ministry adventure, and which was now, even at this very moment, hiding in his left trouser pocket.

"Please answer a question for me," Dumbledore leaned close to the girl. "Who did this to you?" Rose shook her head and rolled her eyes.

· I don't remember - he admitted. "I don't know where I was." I came to my senses here a few days ago… stealing bread… I don't know where I was before that.

· Then how do you know your name? the professor raised his eyebrows.

"Given the… at the orphanage," Rose said. "I lived in an orphanage until now, but... I don't know what happened... that was a long time ago."

Dumbledore frowned even more now and scratched his head.

· What was the name of the orphanage?

· St. Francis... - the girl answered, and now you could see how impatiently she was waiting to find out what her fate would be. Dumbledore noticed this and held out his hand again. Even the professor was surprised by the trust that Rose showed, because she took his hand again and trusted him.

· Do you like castles, Rose? the professor asked with a smile.

· I've only seen it in pictures - muttered the little girl.

· Then I will show you a castle that will surely amaze you! Of course, only if you feel like leaving this boring alley.

Rose nodded and Dumbledore rustled his cloak again. He hopped off and the image disappeared. The gray fog returned, but now it didn't clear - the memory lasted until now.

"Okay," said McGonagall next to Ginny. - Spring off the ground and let yourself go.

Harry did so and was already flying up through the blackness, back to the office. They arrived one after the other and landed on the cold floor of the director's room.

· Well? - the old man inquired with a smile from the frame of Dumbledore's painting.

· What made his face like that? Harry asked. "He was like Voldemort." Did a single horcrux make it like this? McGonagall took her place at the desk again, and Harry and Ginny sat back in their chairs.

"No," Dumbledore answered slowly. "Voldemort did many experiments on the poor girl." I suspect that he experimented on him with the methods that made him such a powerful wizard.

I tried to heal Rosie after I took her in. I took care of the paperwork at the orphanage and took him to Hogwarts. At that time I still thought she was a witch or a Quibli, because she saw everything a mage could. But I soon realized that she couldn't cast any kind of magic, but she had a great sense of magic.

I taught her at Hogwarts because I wanted her to stay with us. He even visited for a few hours. For potions, botany, care of legendary creatures, astronomy, magic story. Her peers thought she was just an untalented witch who didn't know enough about magic, and therefore was exempted from potions and transfiguration... but in reality she was just a muggle. As far as I know, his parents were simple Muggles, but they died early in a terrible fire.

Harry digested what he heard, and another question popped into his mind.

· He didn't remember what happened to him? I mean, you didn't get your memories back later?

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Dumbledore sighed deeply before answering.

· When he turned seventeen, he asked me to bring back his memories. He also knew that there was only one way: the Cruciatus curse. …But I couldn't do it," Dumbledore shook his head as he recalled the memories. "She was like my daughter to me." He even called me father sometimes when he asked for something... So don't be surprised that I couldn't do what he asked for.

Harry listened quietly, not interrupting because he knew the professor was going to continue his report. The rain stopped outside, and for the first time in days the clouds began to disperse. A weak light shone through the window.

· I found out about many things myself when I tried to clean his blood with magic potions and potions. I healed his face and eyes, and on the one hand, his soul - friends, family and home had a good influence on him. I managed to fix a lot of things that the horcrux ruined.

But there were other, much more stubborn changes that resulted from Lord Voldemort's cruel experiments on him. Voldemort tried everything on Rosie that he later tried on himself. On the one hand, snake venom, mixed with a special potion, endows a person with certain abilities of creepers.

· Parsword...? Ginny cooed.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Also, additional reptilian features like venom filled teeth…"

(McGalagony put his hand over his mouth in horror - according to them, the professor hadn't told him this either)... the more than great sight and sense of smell - Voldemort can claim all these as his own.

He also experimented with endowing himself with some of the admirable abilities of giants, namely being able to resist curses simply by the hardness of his skin. From the traces I saw on Rosie, I can say that she tried very persistently, but at the same time, this was her least successful attempt. Maybe it only gained protection against one or two minor buffs, like rubber foot buff, laughing curse, and the like.

Don't be surprised, Minerva, said the professor, I told you that Tom Denem is now more of a monster than a man... Who knows, maybe it's always been that way.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly and just stared straight ahead, not looking Harry, Ginny or McGonagall in the eye.

"It was terrible to see what he did to that little girl, Minerva," continued Dumbledore. "I understand the evil of one man killing another." I condemn, but I understand. But this… this is very difficult for me to understand. In the century and a half of my life, I have never encountered such beastly evil as that which characterized Tom perhaps from the beginning - Dumbledore then looked into McGonagall's eyes. "Do you think, Minerva, is it possible for someone to be born like this?" I'd like to hope not... I'd like to believe that all people are born innocent, and maybe even Voldemort has a little bit of goodness somewhere, or at least there used to be, in the early years of his life, but...

McGonagall didn't answer, the unanswerable question hung in the air, casting a shadow over the hearts of those in the room. The professor cleared his throat and returned from his meditation to the present, continuing to tell Rose's story.

· That's when I started studying the mysteries of black magic. Before that, I didn't delve into the dark sciences, just out of principle. But as it turned out later, when I was fighting against Voldemort, I put the experience I gained then to good use. So, oddly enough, we both learned from Rosie. Voldemort used him as a test subject, but for me he gave a new meaning to my life.

You know, Harry, I've never had anyone so close to my heart before. I never had a wife or children - only my fiancee, whom I lost at an early age. And after Rose, you were the only one for whom I felt a responsibility like no one else.

Taking advantage of another pause in the narration, Harry asked a question that had been bothering him for a long time: - Didn't the professor get to the horcrux? I mean until the goblet or another soul piece?

Dumbledore shook his head.

· I found out that Rosie suffered a horcrux making, but I didn't get around to tracking down Voldemort through her. Voldemort saw my weakness well: I didn't want to torture my daughter just to find a way to defeat her. Rose, and later, your happiness was more important to me than Voldemort's destruction. And then, when Rose was at Hogwarts, Voldemort went to who knows where else in the world.

"Professor..." Harry interjected and took out the small jewel that was Rose's horcrux from his pocket. "We found this… Did you put it in Rose's box?"

Dumbledore stared silently at the necklace, which glinted silver in the growing daylight.

· Professor…?

Harry had never seen his old headmaster like this before. When he told about Voldemort's experiments, he saw the almost broken sadness in his eyes. Harry thought that if the paintings really only contained the emotions and memories of the deceased wizard, nothing more and nothing less, then Dumbledore's hard face, determined, brave character, which he showed to the outside world, was just a mask. Underneath, the grief accumulated over one hundred and fifty years and

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loneliness dug so deep that perhaps even the professor himself could not tell which self was the real one: the fallen man or the world's greatest wizard.

Dumbledore now seemed to be fighting within himself. His painted features strained as he pondered how to answer the question.

"Yes… I put it there," Dumbledore replied with a sigh. "I didn't know what it was then, I just knew it was magical." And that it was made with black magic. There was a lot of pain in that necklace. So I kept it with me for a while until I figured out what it was. But then I took her to the orphanage and hid her there.

I deceived the authorities, I persuaded them to close the investigation. Rosie became a student at Hogwarts.

Harry frowned, and McGonagall also looked at the old professor in confusion.

· Why? McGonagall asked. "How come you didn't break it Albus?" Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, but answered.

· Minerva, even I didn't understand how a horcrux worked then - explained the portrait of the professor. "I was afraid she would die if I did anything with that necklace." I also talked to Horace about horcruxes at the time, but he also couldn't tell me what happens to a person when a made horcrux is destroyed. I told him my suspicions that Tom Denem might have made a horcrux, but Horace wouldn't talk about it.

As you know Harry, he is very sensitive about this subject. The war was already in full swing when I found out that Voldemort had made a horcrux, and then Horace Slughorn resigned and left Hogwarts.

I reached a dead end, I couldn't find out more about the soul cutting methods. So I gave up on the whole thing.

At least until you gave me Tom Denem's diary. Then I started the search again. - And Rose? What happened to Rose? Harry asked eagerly. "Where did he go?" Where is he now? It must be alive if it is still intact

horcrux…

Dumbledore motioned for silence and answered immediately.

"Rosie died, Harry… Not long after you were born. He was sick…suffering from a Muggle disease.

· But... - Harry was puzzled - the horcrux is intact. You must live! "I know too,"

Dumbledore answered, his voice sounding uneasy. "I don't know where he is." He didn't contact me, even though I told him I would always help him. Maybe… maybe he was disappointed in me because of the failures, or something was wrong with the horcrux without my knowledge.

Dumbledore was silent, leaning back in his chair and silently enduring the stares of Harry, Ginny and McGonagall. Harry wondered how many secrets his old professor still had.

"One more thing, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore. "There's someone who can help you get to him if he's alive, though… I don't know if you can get him to do anything." Maybe you can do it.

· Who are you talking about, Professor? Harry asked, but Dumbledore started talking about something else entirely.

· When I called you my son in the letter... there was more behind it than you think.

After Rose graduated from Hogwarts, she worked at Czikornyai & Patza bookstore for almost two years. After that, she married a muggle man and since then only visited the school occasionally. After the war broke out, I saw him less and less. All I know about him when he was older is what his daughter told him. Because Rose later gave birth to two children. To Lily and Petunia Evans…

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Chapter

17 Shadow Magic

· Your grandmother? snorted Ron. "Is Rose Montgomery really your grandmother?" "Yes," Harry nodded with a smile. "And Dumbledore adopted him when he met him."

Harry, his friends, and the initiated members of the Order of the Phoenix had gathered in the Gryffindor clubhouse - at least apparently. Where their famous portrait should have been, a gleaming mirror now occupied the entrance.

When Harry returned from Hogwarts in the afternoon, the residents of the headquarters flocked around him and worriedly asked him why he was sick. Harry guessed right, the owls had indeed told Aunt Muriel that he had collapsed at the bottom of the hill. It was with great difficulty that Harry was able to calm the sulking Hermione and Mrs. Weasley enough to postpone this part of the conversation until later. This did not satisfy his companions' concerns at all, and Mr. Weasley immediately summoned some members of the Order of the Phoenix with owls.

Lupin, Tonks and Mordon did arrive, barely an hour later, and the company retreated to the study, where Harry immediately opened the mirror, behind which they could safely discuss what had happened.

"That means we're at a dead end again," said Hermione dejectedly. Harry had to agree with him. Lupine made a thoughtful face.

"Strange," he said. "Lily never talked about her mother… Neither did Dumbledore." I never met him, not even at James's wedding.

· Didn't you go to your daughter's wedding? Tonks was shocked. "But well..."

"Petunia said she was sick," Harry interrupted suddenly. Lupine raised an eyebrow. "My aunt told me before I left home..."

He recounted everything Aunt Petunia had told him on the morning of his seventeenth he also

said that his mother didn't tell him about his illness - he probably didn't tell his mother about it either. Maybe it was some really bad disease.

· Do you think he's dead? asked Mr. Weasley. Harry took a deep breath before answering.

· I don't know. Neither does Dumbledore. But if the horcrux is intact - and it is - then it must still live in some truth, I think

that's exactly what happened to him as it did to Voldemort.

· Wandering somewhere without a body? Mordon snapped. Harry nodded.

"I want to find him," Harry told his friends. "Not now, but one day.I really want to meet him someday." He could tell more about

Voldemort than anyone else. Perhaps Petunia could lead me to her… The others were silent, but Hermione spoke up after a few moments: - But you don't want to meet him just because of Voldemort, right?

Harry stared in silence, wondering what he would say if he ever met his half-dead, half-alive grandmother. He had to realize that he probably wouldn't say anything. The relatives of the dead, the parents, the past, he thought was closed when he came face to face with the destroyed house in Godric's Hollow. But now Rose Montgomery, that is, Rose Evans, brought back to the surface these old things in him that he had better forget. "He's the last of the. " Harry bit off the sentence. "I see," Lupin nodded, and everyone fell

silent again.

The silence was broken again by Lupine, his face very serious, but without any sternness.

· Harry, please tell me why you collapsed at the bottom of the hill? he asked, and Harry answered immediately.

· Because I crossed the line... (- Oh, of course! - interrupted Mr Weasley, when he remembered Harry's previous illness) The magical boundary excludes Voldemort, and well... because of my scar, we are related to each other, so...

"Perhaps I should tweak the line," Mordon remarked, his face unusually worried. Harry was surprised at how important the issue of a silly little malaise was.

· Don't! Harry said. "The line is fine as it is." I can handle this much pain, it was much worse two years ago. Something else bothers me...

· What is it? asked everyone at once.

Harry sat down on the Gryffindor couch and crossed his arms.

"Voldemort spoke to me," he finally blurted out, and his words shocked the others.

· How?!

· Why?

· What did he say?

Harry satisfied the shocked questions and raised his hand. Everyone fell silent immediately. Harry was surprised again.

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"When my scar hurt," he explained after collecting his thoughts, "I heard Voldemort's voice." He was interested in why I got sick. He must have always sensed when I crossed the line... Then he said that it was useless to try to destroy him, because he had already won a definitive victory. He said no one can stop him.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a shuddering look.

· Lárifári - Mordon waved. "All these black mages do that." It's just a trick. "It probably is," Lupin allowed. "It sounds like a bluff."

Harry disagreed with them. They couldn't hear Voldemort's voice, they couldn't feel the contemptuous sneer that was the

flowed from his words.

"I think we should take it seriously," said Ron, as if guessing Harry's thoughts. Hermione nodded profusely. - He wouldn't have risked appearing in Harry's mind because of a bluff... - That's right! Harry agreed with his friend. "He knows

that the relationship between us is dangerous, he wouldn't have jinxed him unnecessarily."

"Anyway, it wouldn't hurt to go after him," Mr. Weasley stated the task.

"The only problem," Tonks said after a long silence, "is that Death Eaters aren't swarming anywhere these days."

· Did they retreat? Hermione frowned. Tonks nodded.

· But why? Ron slapped his knee.

· I don't know Ron, how would we know? Mr. Weasley sighed. "But we have to hurry with the horcruxes so we can squeeze You-Know- Who." Lupin, Tonks, Mordon and I keep looking for Ravenclaw's outfit. The number of possible owners has been reduced to ten.

· The problem is that most of them are foreign wizards - Mordon took the floor - one of them lives in China and the other in the Namib desert. The devil knows what he's doing there…

Lupine cleared his throat and stood up from the comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace.

· I recommend that you stay at headquarters, stay safe, and don't go anywhere else - Harry, your aunt's visit can still wait.

Harry reluctantly nodded, and the discussion was considered closed. Harry opened the mirror and they stepped out into the blue study of the Prewett house.

The days passed quickly at the headquarters, November flew by and December approached. The weather was miraculously pleasant. The wind storms let me down, the sun came out sometimes, and the ice storms became less and less likely to dampen spirits.

However, unlike his companions, Harry felt the pleasant weather to be ominous. He had an air about him, as if he felt that this was a temporary state before something terrible. Everyone except Hermione thought Harry was a bit paranoid - sometimes even Harry himself. Hermione, however, agreed with him, although while Harry only relied on his gut feeling to say that the good weather was a bad omen, Hermione could explain that, more or less. In the girl's opinion, it can't be a coincidence that after all this time, while they destroyed and destroyed so much, the dementors simply retreated, and what's more, now that the cold, harsh winter is approaching, which these creatures could make even colder and harsher. According to him, the dementors scattered all over England could easily be driven away by the aurors, but if they were gathered together and attacked the people at the same time, such an attack would be unstoppable.

Ron was simply of the opinion that Voldemort did not want to fight his opponents frozen, so he withdrew his powers.

The first snow fell, and the Harrys practically never set foot outside the headquarters. The news about the developments of the goblin rebellion appeared in the newspaper every day - however, the mysterious disappearance of Voldemort and the Death Eaters caught everyone's eye. The dementors retreated, they did not attack any more wizards and witches, and the Dark Mark did not appear.

The only thing constantly on the agenda is the mud-slinging and mudslinging between Gringotts and the Ministry, which was sometimes "spiced up" by an arrest - from both sides. Aurors sometimes captured suspicious goblins, who after interrogation were immediately sent to the cells of Azkaban; goblins also captured mages, but not aurors, rather Ministry officials ("paper pushers" as Tonks used to say) were on the list of kidnapped people.

Mrs. Weasley's worries about this continued to pile up in the last few weeks, not only Bill, but also Mr. Weasley and Percy were in the middle of the goblin-wizard conflict. Harry often found himself these days wondering how he could help the family – his family as he thought of them. He could try contacting the Ampos so they wouldn't hurt the three Weasleys. The goblin might listen to him, if nothing else, ask for something for him. And Harry would have given anything to keep the red-haired family safe.

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It was still on his mind when he was sitting on the floor of the parlor one December evening, watching Ron practice on an apple, following Mordon's instructions. The task was to make the apple fly into the air and fry until crispy.

Hermione and Paulina sat on the shabby blue sofa in the drawing room and watched the show - while the little girl Hermione combed her tangled brown locks with a silver comb. The result of this was that Hermione began to look like a scarecrow with her sky-high bobbed hairdo.

Ron pointed his wand at the fruit and yanked it open - the fruit rose from the ground. At the end of the movement, the wand described a small, spiral-like arc in the air, and the apple burst into flames with a sudden flash, and…

BUCK!

The flying pieces covered the boy's face, who grunted and wiped the fried apple from his face. Paulina and Hermione laughed loudly.

· Very funny, I can say, Miss Tarajos Sül! Ron growled at her. Hermione fell silent.

"Not bad, Ronald," Mordon remarked, a smile tugging at the corner of his scarred mouth. "A little intense, but not bad." You have made a visible improvement. If you continue like this, you might even become an auror.

Ron's face lit up as if he'd been told he'd won the Triwizard Tournament.

"Just don't tell Molly I mentioned it, because she'll poke my eyes out," added the old man.

Ron wiped the apple juice from his face and pocketed his wand. Satisfied, he sat opposite Mordon at the smoking table. Paulina continued to turn Hermione into a scarecrow, and she did it so effectively that she couldn't have done it better with a charm. Hermione put up with this without saying a word, smiling, only occasionally hissing when the little girl accidentally pulled her hair.

Harry was still leaning against the wall, but his thoughts were now back in the present and revolving around the Aurors. He remembered when the old wizard - i.e. his lookalike, the impostor Barty Kupor - had first offered him the profession of auror. He knew that the most talented and sharp-minded wizards could be among the black mage hunters, and last year this dream seemed so close! Recently, however, since he failed to complete his studies at Hogwarts, he had no chance of getting into the Auror training. And with the current ministerial leadership, he didn't even want that so much anymore.

· Why did you retire? Ron inquired after leaning back comfortably in the armchair. Mordon gave a snort that was his peculiar mixture of laughter and annoyance. "Look at my picture and you'll understand," he replied to Ron.

Ron blushed and lowered his head, not wanting to be rude. But Mordon didn't take it as such, in fact, he continued: - The war was already nearing its end... maybe if it happened a year before the fall of Tudodki. Dumbledore was annoyed that Voldemort wanted to kill one of his minions - that freak Snape.

· What is it? Ron shook his head.

Both Harry and Hermione turned their full attention to Mordon.

"Dumbledore told me not to let them kill Snape because we're going to need him..." Mordon shook his head disapprovingly. "So I went there." Spinner's End, a dirty little seedy neighborhood. I can't say it was easy for me...

· How many Death Eaters did you catch then? Ron asked, looking with obvious admiration at Mordon's every word as he talked about the old man's old work.

"Two and three others died..." Mordon said with a frown as he recalled the faded memories and counted the names on his fingers. "There was Wildung—that scumbag ruined my left hand.

I was forced to switch to using a right-handed stick... Then there was Travers, Davidson and Vurston - they died; and a battered blond kid who shouted curses all over the place when he saw us, mindlessly, as if he were hollering - he was later found to be under the influence of the Imperius Curse. And Snape was there. He didn't even object when we arrested him. He seemed to be in a state of shock... which is no wonder, after seeing what happened to Wildung when he objected... the worm still bears its mark today. Of course you can think, now I'm a little sorry that the old friend Snape didn't fight back then.

"Yeah, that fits the bill," Harry thought, snorting disdainfully, "Snake rarely engages in a fair fight, preferring to pull away like a dirty snake…"

"There was also a woman there," the auror grumbled thoughtfully. - We didn't know his name because he was dead - he must have been cursed in the fight... But he was wearing a black hood, he was with the Death Eaters, so if they asked me, it wouldn't hurt him.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Mordon kept muttering things like: "... he deserves..." and "... let alone a trial for them..." - And after that you left the

Aurors? Ron asked.

all death eaters do this

· No, no way! Mordon replied. "It would have felt like a cowardly thing to quit the game." But then it occurred to me for the first time that I had had enough of it all, and maybe I deserved a rest... But you see, it's not for me. I can't stand to sit on my butt. That's how it is with us Aurors…

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Harry got up from the floor half-disappointed - he hadn't learned anything important about Snape, although he hoped the old auror could provide one or two more interesting details. He would be very interested if he could get more information about him, and above all: some proof that Dumbledore's words were true. He sincerely wished that his old director's unshakable confidence would not become a laughing stock. After such a dishonorable death, in which Dumbledore had been a part, Harry could only hope that the image of the old man would not fall to pieces, neither in his eyes nor in the eyes of the others.

By the middle of December, Aunt Muriel came up with a new idea on how to better help the three good friends study.

Harry had a bit of a sense of déjà vu when he entered the drawing room on the thirteenth of December and was once again greeted by a glittering magical mirror. Aunt Muriel greeted them with a beaming face, almost maniacal excitement reflected in her eyes.

· Come, come - the aunt urged them in front of the mirror. "I've got a great idea!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione stepped closer, wondering if the brilliant Aunt Muriel had worked up another magic with the mirrors, or if they were just going to practice the mirror-opening charm again.

"Nice mirror," remarked Ron, glancing at the gold-framed, draped mirror. -... But his image is a bit distorted...

· This is not a reflection of your face, but of your heart - the aunt waved with a smile. "Ronni, come, stand in front of the mirror - but only you!"

The red-haired boy obeyed, he looked at his own picture for a few minutes, then his eyes widened spectacularly as the realization dawned on him.

· Harry! After all, this is the mirror of Edevis ! Ron exclaimed, much to the surprise of his two friends.

· What?! Are you sure?

· Of course, here is the...

· Do you know Edevis's mirror? Aunt Muriel frowned.

· Yes, we saw him six years ago at Hogwarts - not even once - explained Harry, and the aunt's face brightened again.

· I'm really happy about that - answered the old woman. "I've never even had the chance to show that wonderful piece to children, even though it would be an extremely interesting experiment to observe how a person's desires change as they grow up..."

Astonishment appeared on Harry's face again, but now Hermione was the one who put their surprise into words the fastest: - Did the aunt make that mirror?

Aunt Muriel drew herself proudly as she looked at her 'students'. His brown eyes just shone like that.

· Nice little magic, isn't it? he said. "During my last year at Hogwarts, I prepared it for potty training." It was such a special task, you know... Then, when Dumbledore became Headmaster, I gave him a present on the occasion of his appointment. According to them, he's been at Hogwarts ever since... although after the funeral he may have moved on.

Dumbledore distributed all his possessions.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at Aunt Muriel with a mixture of wonder and respect.

· Then this isn't the real Edevis mirror? Hermione was interested, and she also moved closer to the mirror. Ron politely gave up his seat.

· No, I just threw this together hastily based on my old notes - answered the aunt. "With his help, you might have been able to delve a little deeper into emotion-based spells." The most important condition for these is that you know yourself.

Meanwhile, Hermione kept staring at her reflection, mesmerized, and even she herself smiled dreamily. Neither Harry nor Ron had the courage to ask him what he was really seeing. "A long time ago, when I was eleven years old, I

saw in the mirror that my dead parents and relatives were here with me," said Harry, turning to Aunt Muriel.

"But that changed later," he continued. "He has already shown me a picture in which I get the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort."

The aunt nodded seriously, then waved her hand towards the mirror. Hermione snapped out of her reverie and immediately stepped away from him. Harry went to his seat and looked at his image expectantly.

A few seconds later, Harry's form changed: his black sweater and jeans, which were spotlessly clean - thanks to Mrs. Weasley's care - now changed to dirty and torn, and Harry's face showed one or two bruises, his features nevertheless took on a proud, triumphant expression. He looked like he did after emerging from the Chamber of Secrets with his skin intact.

Behind Harry appeared a picture of Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the rest of his friends, including members of the Order. They appeared in order, Lupin first, then Tonks, Mordon, Mr and Mrs Weasley, then Ron's brothers, and so on. Harry was waiting for the smiling pair of blue eyes and silver beard to appear, but his dead headmaster did not appear in the mirror.

"Strange..." he frowned.

· What do you see, Harry? Aunt Muriel asked curiously.

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· I thought I was going to see Voldemort dead. But I can only see myself, a little wounded… and you," he added, turning to his friends. - we are all here, alive. The Order of the Phoenix, your parents, everyone… except Dumbledore. And Sirius isn't here either.

Ron's and Hermione's faces were expressionless, not so Aunt Muriel's, who now took her small glasses off her long, crooked nose and began to wipe them with the edge of her gray robe, pacing up and down.

· You say you saw your parents before that? Aunt Muriel asked.

· Again.

· Then I think this is a fine example of how someone slowly becomes an adult and how their childhood dreams disappear - said the old woman. "And it means much more than that, sure!"

· I don't understand...

· You said, Tudjukki, you were waiting to see his body, right? - the aunt didn't even wait for Harry to answer, she continued right away. "Instead, you saw that you were all here, alive, and judging by the signs, after the victory."

Harry, I think Professor Dumbledore would be very proud of you right now if he heard this.

· Why? Harry spread his arms, laughing. He thought it was a little funny that a simple, mundane wish – mere survival in a war – would give him any reason to be proud.

· The fact that you didn't see Tudjukki dead means that the death of a person is not what your heart desires the most.

· But I want Voldemort to end! Harry snapped.

"Of course," Aunt Muriel nodded. - we are all like that.

But if you saw his death in the mirror, it would mean that Tudjukki's death is more important to you than anything else in this world. Harry, what you just saw shows that the lives of your friends are more important to you than the destruction of your enemies. This is a very important difference! This means that life itself is more important to you than death! - And why didn't I see Dumbledore and

Sirius?

Aunt Muriel sighed deeply before answering.

· This may be because you are much more grown up than when you first looked in the mirror. By now, I suspect you can understand what death entails. How irrevocable and final - and with it you have also grown out of childhood. You no longer desire impossible things, you don't want to get your deceased acquaintances back, but you long for something for which you are capable of doing. That is very commendable, Harry.

Harry silently looked at the happy future shown by the magic mirror. Is this what it will be like once he gets over it all? Will they be just as happy standing next to each other with their friends? Or will they mourn the dead? Harry had a sickening feeling: maybe there would be no one left to mourn the dead?

It was then that he realized how much things had changed since he first looked in the mirror. Until now, he had just lived his life, which could not be called normal even with the greatest goodwill, he changed along with his friends, and everything around him changed. But this change only now became really aware of him, only the image he saw in the magic mirror made Harry realize that it was pointless to dwell on the past. He liked the memory of himself as a stranger before, that eleven-year-old boy who spent long nights sitting in front of Edevis's mirror, and was a prisoner of the past, until Dumbledore shook him.

It felt like when you look at an old photo album, and the old pictures of him show the face of a wild stranger who has no idea what he will go through in the years to come.

Harry's parents and grandparents, including Rose, plunged back into the dark shadows of the past, into oblivion, into cold acceptance without mourning. And wonder of wonders, Harry was relieved. The magic of the mirror made him forget the senseless, fleeting desire to

hold on to Rose Evans with all his might, perhaps his last living relative, besides Aunt Petunia. Once again, his friends, companions, loved ones, and

his task occupied the first place in Harry's heart, and he finally understood himself. He understood why his relatives died around him.

For a long time he couldn't understand why Sirius had to die, why they could spend so little time together. He knew now that Sirius was not meant to fill the void in Harry's heart after they met and became friends. Sirius' fate, his task in the war against Lord Voldemort, his most essential role was to die. That with his death he, Harry, would be separated from everything that ties him to the past. To be able to fulfill the prophecy.

"Well... now that we're over this," said Aunt Muriel, and her voice pulled Harry back from his thoughts, "keep the image you see in the mirror in your hearts!" The mirror will be here all the time from now on, but I strongly recommend that you do not visit it again and again, so as not to become addicted to it... But I think you are wiser than that - smiled the old woman.

· Next week we can start emotion-based spells, which is seventh-year magic at Hogwarts. As I guess, you will regret skipping school a thousand times because I am a strict teacher! Aunt Muriel laughed, and Harry's along with her.

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· But let's continue practicing combined spells today! Ronni, you start - the aunt issued the instruction. - The task is the following: stir a whirlwind, lift this chair up with it, and at the same time tie it in shackles with fiery ropes and smash it with them.

· Father is burning! Ron groaned, but obediently held out his wand.

The morning was spent practicing according to the usual schedule. Ron, Hermione and Harry took turns trying to perform the difficult task, but by the time the church bells at Land's End tolled for an hour, only Hermione had managed to perform the entire spell - and she didn't have a problem either. He had to use all his willpower to make the right move with his wand at the right moment. His persistence paid off, after a spectacular wand-waving, the charred remains of the chair fell to the far end of the salon.

· Congratulations, Hermione! Aunt Muriel rejoiced, and the girl pulled herself out proudly. "And all this non-verbally, that was extraordinary, my dear!"

"Thank you," Hermione smiled.

"Okay," Ron clapped his hands together. "My stomach is rumbling, I think we should take a break."

· The eating machine has started working... - remarked Hermione bitterly and earned a devastating look from the boy.

· Good, they can go - Aunt Muriel agreed. "I'll pack here."

Ron was already on his way, followed by Hermione, but Harry didn't want to move. He fixed his eyes on the mirror again and looked at the emerging image. Among the line of wizards and witches was a figure – a dark, sinister face that had only now caught Harry's attention.

"Snapper..." Harry hissed the hateful name between his teeth.

"Did you say something Harry?" asked Aunt Muriel as she fixed the broken pieces of furniture with her wand. "No… nothing," Harry lied and turned away from the mirror.

Thoughts swirled in his head. What was Snape looking for in the happy picture? Despite Dumbledore's insistence that the Potions Master was Lord Voldemort's staunch enemy, Harry was unable to put aside his disdain and anger towards his former teacher. So why was he among your friends?

He let out a deep sigh and went after Ron and Hermione to take his mind off his depressing thoughts with Mrs Weasley's mouth-watering roast.

"Harry, wait a minute," said Aunt Muriel after him. Harry obediently stopped and turned to his aunt.

· I would like to give you a present. An interesting book, explained the aunt. Harry raised an eyebrow.

· There are still three weeks until Christmas, Aunt Muriel - the boy spread his arms, but the aunt didn't pull him away.

He took an object wrapped in brown paper from the huge pocket of his large robes and handed it to Harry with a smile. Harry accepted the gift.

· Thank you... but why...?

· This is a very interesting book. It's full of spells that I think you have the talent for. But it's all a very difficult charm, there are few people who can do it all.

"It's off to a good start…" Harry muttered and grinned.

Aunt Muriel laughed.

· Give it a try! suggested the old woman. "Harm can't hurt." "Okay," Harry agreed, pulling the binding string off the package.

"But don't stay long, because it's almost lunch time," said Aunt Muriel, and then she left the salon.

Harry curiously tore the paper from the book and caught sight of its ornate cover. It was a very well-preserved book, with only one golden inscription on the title page:

The Noble Book of Ancient and Mysterious Shadow Magic

Harry raised his eyebrows and flipped through the book with interest. The yellowed pages had lots and lots of concentrated text, it wasn't like a normal book of magic spells, where the spells were listed one after the other, followed by half or one-page descriptions. The tome of Shadow magic, whatever it was, seemed to Harry to be largely theoretical science, and that already detracted from its appeal.

Nevertheless, he sat down on the couch and read the first chapter of the book.

"Noble and esteemed shadow magic is the science of summoning. By its very nature, the competent magister can achieve great achievements in all areas of magical life with it, so it is not necessary to resort to a complicated transformation if we have the opportunity to visualize the desired object-being itself.

This branch of the magical sciences has never been as popular as the discipline of curses and charms. Some branches of the magic of the shadows were often identified by popular belief with the black sciences (killing and torturing curses). What nonsense! Those who delve into the noble doctrines soon realize that these summons require a pure heart and strong emotions much more than

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consuming evil. This alienation can be traced back to the popular spells of the bogus black magicians, with which they promoted the use of passion and open anger as weapons.

Shadow magic can not only be used to summon ordinary objects, but with the help of the wizard's magical power, he can project his own emotions and thoughts into reality. The summoned - an object, a beast, and in some cases a plant - is of the same essence as the spirit of the summoning wizard, and sometimes has tremendous power. Such creatures can also be used by the magister as a weapon - like a bewitching patron charm to protect oneself against the dark threat.

The name of shadow magic can be derived from its nature: these magnificent summons do not last forever, they are not permanent, they are only temporary, like the thought, or the shadow itself, which is only visible as long as there is light to feed it.

Although many magicians have shied away from these mystical teachings, some simple shadow magic can be found that is useful in everyday life, such as summoning ordinary objects, defending against ferocious dementors, and…"

Harry hummed in interest. Now it didn't seem so uninteresting to him, despite its theoretical nature. He didn't even know that the patron charm, which he has been able to perform extremely well since the age of thirteen, belongs to the topic of shadow magic. Aunt Muriel didn't give this book by accident, Harry thought. He knew he was good at patron charms, and with the mirror-opening charm, he proved that he was susceptible to emotion-based charms.

Could this be the branch of magic that you really have a talent for? Lupine advised him to find what he was best at.

"The summoner is of the same essence as the spirit of the summoning wizard..."

"Is it one with my spirit?" Harry thought out loud.

Regarding the patron charm, that was clear as day, but would a simple object - like a chair - possess the personality of the summoner?

· Archisellium! Harry said the spell to himself after pointing his wand at the floor in front of him.

A red and green striped upholstered armchair appeared, almost as beautiful as the ones Professor Dumbledore used to conjure up.

Harry carefully walked around the armchair, but he had no idea what to look for. He touched his arm to see if his senses were telling him something, as Mr. Weasley had taught him about the ratchets - but nothing. The armchair was a perfectly ordinary armchair. Nothing more, nothing less, and Harry found no meaning in it.

He disappeared the chair and shook his head at another summon, which he knew. Old memories came to his mind when he saw others manifesting something out of nowhere.

The first memory that came to mind was when Draco Malfoy had conjured a snake, and that was when Harry found out that he was a pair-mouth. The incantation dimly dawned on him, but he dared not attempt it without knowing the exact words. Professor Flitwick drilled this into their heads during the very first magic lessons.

Bizarre things can happen when someone mispronounces a spell.

The next thing he thought of was Dumbledore's spell, when he conjured several sleeping bags in the Hogwarts Great Hall - but he didn't remember his spell here either.

He was not particularly worried about this, because in the meantime he kept turning the pages of the precious book, and he found one incantation in each chapter, the effects of which were discussed over long pages.

However, he remembered a word that he had heard years before in the middle of a forest, which sent the Dark Mark of the Death

Eaters into the sky to intimidate people. However, Harry was far from trying this spell, so he finally decided to summon his deer- shaped patron out of pure nostalgia.

He concentrated hard to recall the moment when he found out that Hogwarts would be his home instead of the Dursley house, and a new life, a new future awaited him, then he flicked his wand. With the snap of the wand, a cloud of silver smoke erupted and swirled brightly in front of Harry - but it took no form.

· Now what? Harry frowned and performed the patron charm again.

The deer did not come again, only the faint cloud floated in front of his eyes.

Calm down, you must have just picked the wrong memory - Harry reassured himself, and now he closed his eyes and concentrated with all his might on the happy moments he had spent with Sirius and the Weasleys.

· Expecto Patronum! he now said the spell out loud, but the result was the same.

· What about me?! Harry blurted out, annoyed by the inexplicable failure.

He performed the charm three more times, but never once did he succeed in creating an incarnated patron. The cloud just swirled and swirled, sometimes it began to form, but it did not achieve complete success.

· Come on, lunch is on the table! Ron's voice came from across the stairwell, but the call didn't reach Harry's mind.

He stood numbly in the middle of the salon, his wand hanging limply in his hand. Harry was seriously scared. What if the dementors come and you can't defend against them? How do you explain this to your friends, the Order of the Phoenix, and

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To Aunt Muriel, who had just recommended him to study shadow magic? And most of all: what could have happened that he is unable to perform the magic that he has been able to do better than anyone he knows since the age of thirteen?

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Chapter 18

The Prodigal Son

Harry never once brought up his inexplicable failure during lunch, which made him angrier by the minute, and his emotions showed on his face. Aunt Muriel asked him why he was so angry, she was afraid that maybe Harry didn't like the book. Harry reassured the old lady as politely as he could that the book was great, he just wasn't feeling too well.

In the end, he decided to take a nap to see if his problem would be solved by the next day - but he was wrong. The first thing in the morning was to go to the salon with a clear head, fresh and calm, and summon a patron. However, the deer did not appear, only the stubborn silvery cloud waltzed in front of Harry's nose.

Her annoyance and bad mood lessened considerably after breakfast, when Ginny arrived for the Christmas break accompanied by Bill and Mr. Weasley. Harry had been waiting for them to meet again, but the events of the previous day had put the meeting out of his mind - but now it was the other way around.

Ginny greeted her friends one by one, and greeted Harry in front of the others with the usual discreet hug and kiss.

"Ginny, sit down and eat," Hermione invited the girl, but Ginny refused any kind of breakfast.

"Thank you, but I can't eat right now," he said with a grimace. "I'm a little sick, my head hurts too." A lot of people at school got sick as Christmas approached. You know, a cold, and stuff like that... I'd rather go up to our room and unpack my suitcase - he added and left.

· Harry, don't you want to help? Ginny turned back from the stairs. Harry was already running up the stairs a moment later.

Being a Sunday, more members of the Order of the Phoenix visited the headquarters than usual. Among others, the long-lost Kingsley Shacklebolt, who performed security duties in the Muggle Prime Minister's office; Dedalus Diggle, who now fills Mundungus's place as "underworld messenger"

· contacted the infamous horsemen and smugglers of the wizarding world to track down the Death Eaters. And Bill also came back from Hogwarts to talk about goblins.

Lupine and Tonks, who came straight from Hogwarts, where they reported to McGonagall about the various groups following Voldemort (Grayback's werewolves, who, in alliance with three vampires, plan to free the brutal werewolf from Azkaban), also stumbled into dinner. When Harry saw Lupin and Tonks arriving holding hands, he immediately remembered what had happened a year ago, when the young girl had freed him from his predicament on the Hogwarts Express and escorted him back to the castle. Snape, hurrying to meet them, informed him that Tonks' patron had changed, and now she was taking the form of a wolf, which was triggered by her - at first unrequited - love for Lupin.

Harry thought that maybe something similar had happened to him, and that was why he was having problems with the charm. After eating Mrs. Weasley's dinner, the members of the Order of the Phoenix sat down in the study to confer.

Harry, Ron and Hermione could also be present, no one questioned their eligibility - everyone was of the unanimous opinion that the three young people deserved to be members of the Order, and Harry was now accepted by many as a kind of leader. They instinctively fell silent when he spoke and listened to his every word. Bill rose to speak when Harry's wandering thoughts returned to the present.

"It's clear that Ampók Andalgó is in charge of the rebellion, Ragnok is just a puppet," said the red-haired boy, whose face was covered with thick strands of hair that reached down to his face. Harry remembered Mr and Mrs Weasley's conversation in a hushed voice, that according to the healers at St. Mungo's, the eldest boy only carries the werewolf disease, but does not show the more serious symptoms of the disease. However, Bill did not really remain the same.

· Wandering…? Ron remarked quietly, pulling his mouth away with a grimace. Hermione chuckled into her palm.

· After the Station and the Transformation Research Institute, they already have Azkaban under their control - continued Bill. - With the enchanted armors they call ferrums, they occupied the whole island...

· What happened to the prisoners? asked Lupin.

· The goblins were released immediately - this was expected with-, but immediately afterwards they made a truce and came to an agreement

the Ministry that they could take their prisoners wherever they wanted.

"Accompanied by a few Aurors, we took them over," said Mr. Weasley. "Now the lighter cases are kept at the Auror Command, the Death Eaters have been frozen..."

· What did they do with them? Harry asked.

· They were frozen in ice until a better place could be found for them. Harry noticed that Aunt Muriel was shaking her head disapprovingly.

"The minister was furious when he found out what happened to Azkaban," Kingsley said. "He ordered the immediate arrest of all goblins."

"Huh, that's going to be a big scandal," remarked Mr. Weasley.

· That's for sure. Such a measure has not been issued for over three hundred years...

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"Two hundred and thirty-six years ago," Hermione corrected Kingsley. - During the last giant war, all giants were ordered to be expelled from the country. Of course, this was later changed...

· Either way, goblins cannot be banished. I wonder what Scrimgeur is up to," Lupine said, scratching his chin.

"He's not planning anything," Harry said sullenly. "The guy is completely crazy." We have to stop it.

· Harry?! Hermione exclaimed. "How can you say that?"

She wasn't alone in her shock, and Harry later realized that it was rather unusual to advise a bunch of Aurors to confront the Minister for Magic. But these Aurors were also members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry had already decided for himself: if some Aurors chose the Minister instead of the Order, then they could do him a favor. He chooses Ampók, and he knew that Dumbledore would have done the same.

After the meeting, the members of the Order left the mirror world one after the other, and then everyone went about their business. After Harry also stepped out of the magical place that shaped the image of the sunny lakeside, he waited until everyone left the study, then walked over to Tonks and Lupin who were the last to exit.

"Tonks, wait a second," Harry said after the pink haired girl. Tonks and Lupine stopped and both turned to him curiously.

"I want to talk to you… face to face," Harry added, giving Lupine an apologetic look.

Lupine nodded and left with Mordon following.

"Wow, that sounds serious," Tonks commented with a laugh after they were alone. Harry also smiled faintly, but only out of politeness.

"I need your advice, and maybe your help," Harry snapped. - I… can't summon a patron.

Tonks dropped her mouth and looked at Harry in shock for a moment, then suddenly shook her head and placed a serious hand on the boy's shoulder and looked him in the eye.

· Did something happen? Has something changed? he asked her. Harry spread his arms.

· I don't know... - he admitted. "I have no idea what could have changed."

· It can be triggered by many things. Emotional turmoil, love, whatever… Harry cleared his throat.

"Tonks, what happened to you when your patron changed?"

Her heart-shaped face blushed faintly and she lowered her eyes. A mysterious smile was hiding at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, I see..." Harry muttered and looked at Tonks with an apologetic smile. "But there were no problems when you summoned your new patron?" Wasn't it more difficult?

"Of course," she nodded. "I had to start studying almost from the beginning... but I've always been good at it, luckily - just like you!" Harry poked his chest.

Tonks suddenly looked at Harry suspiciously.

· Are you sure something didn't happen? Tonks cooed. "Anything to do with… perhaps your grandmother?" Harry remembered what he had been thinking as he stood in front of Edevis's mirror, or rather a copy of it.

He remembered the feeling that came over him then: he became aware of the change he had gone through in the past six years.

Tonks saw the shadow pass over Harry's face and smiled. Harry pulled himself together and tried to put into words what had happened.

"Something happened yesterday that made me realize how much I've changed since going to Hogwarts."

I didn't even notice the change until now, I just lived... But now somehow I don't care what happened in the past. Tonks nodded in understanding.

"That's enough to make your patron disappear," he said. "I know what form it used to take and what it fed on." If you really closed your past yesterday and realized that the memories that gave rise to your patron don't fill you with as much joy as they did before, then you really need to start over, Harry.

Harry huffed nervously and shook his head. You can start learning from the beginning! Just when he found what he really meant. He couldn't imagine anything more annoying than that.

"Listen," said Tonks to your -, if you accept my help, I'll be here during the holidays and together we can bring back the

patron, "that is, a new patron, because I don't think your deer is coming back." Harry nodded gratefully.

· Thanks, Tonks. Thank you very much.

· Nothing.

Everyone had a lot to do with the Order in the next few days, but three days after their conversation, right before Christmas, Tonks managed to find time for Harry - all the more so because she too saw the seriousness of the situation.

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Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Paulina had spent the morning decorating the living room and setting up the Christmas tree, and Harry excused himself from this by citing illness - and at Tonks' suggestion they went to the drawing room.

"Good, then let's see how you've tried so far," said the girl. "Okay…" Harry muttered and pulled out his wand.

He lifted it into the empty room in front of him and silently performed the spell. A silvery cloud emerged from the wand and floated swirlingly in front of Harry, shapeless, formless. It was only visible for a few moments, quickly began to fade, and then disappeared completely.

· Yeah. What were you thinking? Tonks inquired.

· About how it felt to get to know Sirius, his true side. "When I found out he was innocent," Harry answered dejectedly.

"I think you should try to focus on something newer," Tonks suggested. – Memories wear out over time, whether they are happy or bad, but hope is a different story!

Harry smiled. How good it is that he found out about his desires when he looked in the mirror. In the end, it turns out that Aunt Muriel's mirror has some use too...

"Are you ready Harry?"

Harry recalled the image he saw in the mirror, his friends safe and sound, himself victorious. He imagined the feeling of triumph over Voldemort, which he had already experienced so many times, at the age of eleven or twelve, in those times when no one could have said where the never-ending conflict between the two would lead. However, Harry pushed Voldemort out of his mind, all thoughts about him - there was no place for the lord in his happiness. There is only room for the Weasleys, Hermione, Hagrid, Lupin and Tonks. He thought of them, of their joy, of the happy moments that they would experience after this. Harry kept the feeling to himself and finally nodded.

Tonks smiled and waited to see what would happen.

Harry raised his wand again and resigned himself to a happy future. Then he said the incantation aloud: - Expecto Patronum!

A cloud of light erupted from the wand, long, strong - much stronger than before. It dropped firmly to the floor and spread out, but did not take shape. A sense of failure immediately came over Harry, and the cloud of smoke dissipated.

· Damn it! Harry grumbled, but Tonks didn't give up.

"This was much better than before," she remarked. "Tell me what was on your mind?" Harry immediately answered:

· I was thinking about my friends, that they are all alive and happy... - And You Know Who? Tonks asked him.

Harry shook his head.

· That's a bit much, don't you think? she interrupted. "Don't you remember what Remus taught you?"

Harry raised his head and watched intently. Maybe you're doing something fundamentally wrong? Have you forgotten one of the essentials of patron summoning?

· Your friends are still alive and happy - more or less. "You imagined a situation where everything was the same as before the war," Tonks continued, sitting down on a sofa.

Harry began to protest vehemently: "No

way, I imagined our life after the fall of Voldemort," he said vehemently. "What could be better than..."

· And do you think that will happen? - said a quiet calm voice suddenly from the door of the salon.

Harry spun around to see Lupin standing alone with a weary smile. He looked very weak and pale, which is no wonder. The full moon had just passed.

It took a few seconds for Harry to take in what Lupin had said.

· What do you mean by that? Harry spread his arms.

Tonks just smiled and Lupine came into the drawing room and stopped in front of Harry.

· If you imagine that after the destruction of Voldemort everything will be cloudless and happy, then you are very wrong - came the answer. "Don't kid yourself Harry." The situation before the war can no longer be restored, not even in the hearts of the people.

"But the mirror..." Harry began stubbornly, but Lupine interrupted.

· Muriel told me what happened. The mirror shows your desire, and I'm talking about your joy, he declared. Harry took a moment to digest what he heard.

· Aren't the two one and the same? he asked Lupin.

· No, he answered, but then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, not always." Most of the time no. Harry listened.

· Your desire is such an idyllic situation, right? Our desire is always the goal for which we strive, but the joy is when we reach this goal. Even if we don't realize it.

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Harry, the fight against Voldemort is your life itself. If you try to summon a patron from a thought that you can feel after fulfilling your goal, you are lying to yourself. Once you defeat Voldemort, you can draw strength from it. But not until then. Muriel also said: know yourself! When are you most who you are? Lupin finished with this strange question.

Harry stared ahead and pretty much thought through the defining moments of his life. He only focused on the feelings, not the events themselves. The answer was obvious: - When I face Voldemort.

Lupine smiled again.

"I was thinking," he said, sneaking a glance at Tonks.

· Then summon a patron from this! she suggested and Harry nodded.

It wasn't easy for Harry. He didn't have to think about an event that happened or a hoped-for image, but he had to experience a special mental state. No matter if he concentrated on those moments when he was face to face with the black mage - he had to recall the thought when every part of his body, every cell of his body felt what he had to do. Like in the cemetery... The courage-giving force that encouraged him not to hide behind a tombstone and wait for death, but to stand up and face it.

· Expecto Patronum! Harry shouted, his wand shaking.

A silvery light illuminated the faces of those standing in the room, and delicate outlines emerged from the glow. The faint but recognizable outline of a squat four-legged creature… a new patron.

· It's Harry! "That was great," Lupin praised and Harry lowered his wand.

The patron remained visible, it did not disappear, but it did not have such a clear, clean shape as the deer.

Harry was glad that he had gotten better, but he was also unhappy at the same time.

Tonks smiled happily and approached the unknown creature, which turned its large shining head towards her. "That's pretty big," she remarked, giving Harry a thumbs up.

"Don't worry, it will go even better," reassured Lupin.

"I hope..." Harry added, and when his patron disappeared, he thanked Tonks and Lupin for their help.

On Christmas morning, Harry had a large pile of presents waiting by his bed. Lots and lots of colorful packages, big and small.

· Merry Christmas! Ron greeted when he noticed that Harry had also woken up.

Ron had already unwrapped four presents, which were lying on his bed in a big mess. A box of Berti Bogoly's All Flavor Drags from Ginny, a blue Weasley hoodie from Ron's mother, a long red scarf from Bill and dragon-shaped sweets from Charlie. Among them was a Hungarian Thunderbird, which stretched its neck angrily. Ron left this piece directly to Harry and now threw it over to his bed.

· Merry Christmas to you too! Harry smiled, and after putting on his round glasses, following Ron's example, he began to open his presents.

The first box was Hermione's gift: a glowing blue glass ball. A short letter was found from its padded box, written by the girl in regular pearl letters:

Harry, this is a Smiling Orb. You can lock up your happy memories like a Meringue, and when you take them out, they'll put a smile on your face, no matter how broken you are. Mordon told me about it, and of course he immediately came up with the idea that it's great for self-defense, because if it's strong enough, it scares off a dementor... But rather just think of it as Smiley!

"Hermione can always surprise me with something," Harry nodded and happiness filled his heart. "Um," said Ron. "The most unpredictable girl I know... How!"

The present that Ron was unwrapping exploded in the boy's hand with a loud pop and covered the room in sticky orange goo.

· What the hell was that? Harry grumbled, wiping the smudge from his glasses.

The answer was given by a ringing voice that came from the remains of something vegetable-like in Ron's hand: "Merry Christmas Roncimonci! Hihihihi..." Fred and George's voices rang out in chorus.

Ron brushed away the pulp with a wave of his wand and angrily tossed aside the pieces of the shattered pumpkin.

· Wait, this will get worse if I live that long - Ron grumbled, and now he freed the rest of his gifts from the juice.

"It should have been erased from their memories when you turned their heads into pumpkins," Harry suggested.

· Then they wouldn't have learned anything from it! snapped Ron.

· Why, is that how they learned from it?

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Ron waved impatiently and didn't answer. They continued unwrapping their gifts and before long Hermione came through the door with a similar long scarf around her neck as Ron's and Harry's next pack, but unlike Ron's red scarf and Harry's green scarf, it was blue, and like the boys', it was interesting , shiny threads were woven between the blue yarn.

· Good morning, Merry Christmas! Hermione greeted cheerfully. "Thanks for the wand case Harry." It's very practical. "You're welcome," Harry said. - I thank the Smiler. Does it really scare off a dementor?

Hermione looked up at the ceiling.

· You are incorrigible!

He sat down on the end of Ron's bed and smiled at the boy, then furrowed his brows.

· Why does it smell like pumpkin in here? he asked. Ron snorted and Harry answered.

· Three words: Fred and George.

· Oh. I see… These scarves are gorgeous, aren't they? Hermione diverted the conversation. "Yeah," Ron shrugged.

"Yeah," Harry mimicked his friend.

Hermione stared at them for a moment, then blew.

· You have no idea what this is.

Hermione said, more of a statement than a question. Harry and Ron shook their heads.

· T from magic to both of you, take note! she shouted angrily at them. "You didn't remember what Professor Flitwick said about the mirabilis threads?"

· How much should we remember? Ron muttered. Hermione shot him a scathing look.

"These silver threads have magical properties," he explained. – If you want, you can climb a rock or a castle wall with this scarf, because it stretches as long as needed, but never breaks! It is a very special thing, in Iceland and Norway the ship wizards weave ropes from it...

His words were interrupted by the opening of the door, upon which the very excited Paulina burst in.

· Hermione! Hermione! Listen to what I know! the little girl shouted, and Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. He must have thought that the little girl was so excited because she was happy about the doll she got from him for Christmas.

Paulina stopped in front of Harry, Ron and Hermione, then held her nose and squinted her eyes as if she was about to jump into a pool. The next moment, however, the little girl's ears began to grow—they just grew and grew until they were as big as a house- elf's.

Paulina chuckled at Harry's expression and shook her head. Her brown locks fluttered, her elf ears clicked as they hit her face.

"Wow..." Ron gaped. - According to you

a metamorphic mage? Hermione finished.

· Like Tonks? Harry muttered.

· What am I? Paulina asked curiously.

Hermione perked up and finally understood what it all meant. He ran to the little girl, picked her up and hugged her. Paulina used magic for the first time since they met.

· Am I a witch now?

· Yes, baby, you are! Hermione replied happily.

Paulina grew her ears and nose five more times while they were unwrapping the presents and talking absentmindedly in the room. At around ten thirty, at Mrs Weasley's call, they went downstairs to the kitchen to have breakfast, and when they got downstairs, they were met with a big surprise.

· Hagrid! Harry exclaimed when he saw his huge friend in the living room. The ranger's head brushed against the ceiling, while he sipped Aunt Muriel's tea from a cup that was ridiculously small for him.

· Hello! Hagrid greeted the three good friends, crushing the cup between his index finger and thumb. "Oh, I'm sorry Muriel. "

With a benevolent smile, Mrs Weasley freed Hagrid from the spilled tea and then fixed his glass.

"Wait, I'll help," offered Mrs. Weasley, and with a tap of her wand, she increased the teacup to the size of a bucket. "Thank you Molly," Hagrid muttered, pouring himself a pot of tea.

Harry, Ron and Hermione ran up to Hagrid and all three hugged him somewhat childishly. Paulina, who was following Hermione, raised frightened eyes at the giant man, but when she saw that the huge exterior was covering a pious heart, she moaned a little confused "hello" reminiscent of a mouse chirping.

· I have great news! Hagrid shouted with a bright smile on his face. "The giants have come!"

· WHAT?! Harry, Ron and Hermione were shocked at the same time.

Mr and Mrs Weasley and the other Order members smiled, they already knew about it.

Harry wondered if this was good news or bad. Good, judging by Hagrid's wide grin, but he knew the gamekeeper too well to immediately credit him with anything that sounded like good news to him.

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· And? Harry waited for the new information.

· Four people came from the east… two of them that Olympe and I talked to. They were looking for Dumbledore, they hid in the Forbidden Grove, and there they met Grop. And he told me. Sure, Gróp Kicsi has improved a lot since you last met him! Hagrid said proudly. "He wrote me a letter, imagine that!" A little difficult, but I understood the message...

Hagrid happily produced from one of the many pockets of his coat a large piece of bark on which a jagged X had been drawn with charcoal.

· Professor McGonagall spoke to them after I found them. They said they wanted to help defeat Golgomata, the ranger explained. "That rascal Golgoma wiped out half the tribe, and now he stuck that terrible big picture here..."

· What? Is the gurg here? Ron shook his head.

Harry also remembered that Golgomata, the bloodthirsty giant, became the gurg, that is, the leader, the boss of the eastern tribe, by tearing off the head of the previous leader and throwing the corpse into a river. In addition, the new gurg made a pact with the Death Eaters, which Hagrid and Madame Maxime witnessed.

· Yes, Golgomata and two other giants came to the country - answered Hagrid. "The others move to the nearby islands."

"You know, he promised to come back when he took over," added Mr. Weasley, seeing the puzzled faces of his son and his two friends.

· Huh! There are only three of them, and our giants are four! Ron waved with a nonchalant smile on his face. "Simple matter..."

· Don't be so sure about that! Hagrid scolded. "There is a big difference between a giant and a giant." Just look at Kicsi Gróp! And Golgomata, the tribe's greatest warrior, is…

HUMM!

At the sudden sound and the two figures appearing in the middle of the room, everyone flinched and instinctively reached for their wands, but they realized almost immediately that their fear was unfounded. The two arrivals were Bill and Fleur, along with a large crate that landed next to them.

· Good heavens, you have brought us heart trouble! said Mrs. Weasley, then greeted her son and daughter-in-law with two kisses each. "Screw me Molly," Fleur said, shaking her long blonde hair as she slipped out of her traveling cloak. Behind him, Ginny and Hermione mockingly imitated him. Mrs Weasley looked at them with piercing eyes. "This is the safest way to travel these days,"

the girl added, then slipped a gold watch into her pocket. "Well!" Who is this little fairy? he asked with a smile when he saw Paulina.

"Introduce yourself nicely," Hermione warned the little girl.

Paulina took her word for it and didn't miss the opportunity to show off her shapeshifting ability, which dazzled those present, especially Fleur and Bill.

"Aunt Muriel," Bill said with a serious face. - I think you will be very happy with our Christmas present... - and with that he started to open the large wooden box that came with them.

The chest contained many old trinkets, papers, and jewelry.

· Good heavens! Did you find it? Mrs. Weasley said to her heart, for the second time in the past minute, but now in joy.

With tears in her eyes, Aunt Muriel looked speechlessly at her stolen and recovered treasures, every old piece of her past.

· Where did they come from? Mr. Weasley inquired.

"They were at Ragyás Harris's, we met him when he was trying to sell them in the Winged Boar," was the quick answer.

Christmas Day passed peacefully, the residents of the headquarters avoided serious conversations, listened to music, played cards, and stuffed themselves with the most delicious sweets, just like children.

Fred and George had already joined the snack, arriving in brand new fur-trimmed cloaks held together by a gold buckle - and Harry noted that he had never seen anyone dressed so elegantly.

Bill and the twins helped sort Aunt Muriel's things out of the chest and put them back in their original places. Mr and Mrs Weasley were completely oblivious, they even started dancing to Celestina Maggica's song playing on the radio, just like at Fleur and Bill's wedding.

· Oh, I can't believe how long ago I felt this good! Mrs. Weasley sighed. - Everything is so fine now...

"Yes Molly, that's what Christmas does to you," smiled Mr. Weasley. Harry swallowed. The smile faded from his face.

The overwhelming feeling that he wasn't doing his job hit him again. He hated the thought—after all, what could he do now? It's Christmas, everyone is resting, no one expects him to still have Voldemort on his mind.

No one… but himself.

The chair was getting hotter and hotter around him, every part of him was almost screaming for him to get up and go immediately - no matter where, he can't sit here.

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· Where are you going Harry? Hermione said after him.

· I'm just going outside to get some air...

Harry quickened his pace so that someone would ask if he could go with him and he would have to say no. He didn't want to explain to them that he wanted to be alone for a while.

He stepped out into the yard and started walking with his hands in his pockets. All around, the hill country was covered with an even blanket of snow, from which the bald trees stood like black skeletons towards the sky. Everything was dead, and as Harry looked into the distance he felt very lonely. He didn't know why this feeling came over him.

Just when you think you can overcome the difficult moments, new, even more complicated feelings arise in you.

· Now why did I come out? Harry muttered and looked up at the sky. His thoughts were going through a crazy waltz in his mind.

Does what he's doing make any sense? If he does defeat Voldemort, what will it lead to? You could endlessly list your questions, which cannot be answered. No one can answer if no one knows themselves.

Then himself when he fights against Voldemort... But would that really be all? Is this your whole life? And what does it become?

Harry turned to face the setting sun and took a moment to admire it. That's when he noticed fresh footprints in the snow. His first thought was that Mr Weasley had gone for wood – as the footprints led behind the Prewett house towards the garden. However, it dawned on him almost immediately that Mr. Weasley couldn't go for wood, no one could go for wood, because the magic dust that hadn't gone out was burning in the fireplace.

Harry's features darkened as he drew his wand. He knew what he would be risking if he started shouting now to warn those inside - who knows who is lurking around the house (and most importantly, how he got in).

Trusting in the power of surprise, Harry set off following the footprints. He hid at the corner of the house and peeked out from behind it, but he didn't see anyone. The footprints clearly led in the direction of the living room wall; most of the wall was taken up by a large window, and from here too Harry could clearly make out the figures of the occupants.

Perhaps the unknown wants to attempt an assassination against them? - the thought ran through Harry's mind, and he immediately started searching for the person with his eyes - but he didn't see anyone. Guided by a bad feeling, he quickly turned back to see if the assassin was behind him - but nothing.

He followed the footprints with his eyes, which only led to the window, not back. Would he have climbed through the window when no one was looking? - Harry guessed, and the solution immediately came to him: an invisibility cloak!

Harry didn't wait any longer, he walked towards the unknown with the silence of a hunting leopard and pointed his wand at the point where it should be according to the footprints. When he was sure of what he was doing, he waved it, and the next moment the tip of the wand glowed blue.

· Uuuuu...! - shouted the unknown (male based on his voice) when Harry's disarming charm hit him.

The wet snow splashed where the invisible man fell, and a stick became visible a few meters in front of him. Hand and footprints hurried towards the wand, but when he picked it up, Harry lunged at the man with his full body weight, and they both fell apart. They rolled down the hillside hitting each other and the ground, the snow almost billowing around them.

The cloak fell off the stranger, but Harry didn't have time to look at his face as he rolled. The man moaned and spat out the snow that got into his mouth, Harry on the other hand waited with clenched teeth for them to finally stop, while trying to protect his wand.

With a loud crash, they arrived at their destination, a gnarled tree trunk that swayed dangerously as the two bodies slammed into it. With an indignant screech, the two sentinel owls that were perched on it flew up into the air and headed towards the tower.

Harry didn't hesitate for a second. Ignoring the dull pain throbbing in his arm, he threw himself at the hobbling, snow-spitting stranger and buried his head in the snow. Now he hobbled even more and tried to shout, but he couldn't get any meaningful words out from the snow covering his head. He swung his arms back to try and hit Harry, who then pulled him back by his coat and punched him in the nose with all his might as he fell backwards.

· Yaaj... the ollob... - the man moaned, and blood poured from his broken nose.

Harry pressed his wand against his neck to make him stop hobbling, and then he finally caught sight of her face.

· Percy! What the hell are you doing here?! Harry shouted into the face of the third Weasley boy, who was covering his nose in pain.

· You see the... mother... mother akaltaba... - he answered with difficulty.

From the hilltop there was a door slamming and frightened cries - the birds had carried the news of the incident.

· Yes? Harry hissed angrily. "Then you rush to your minister to betray him, don't you?" Percy shook his head wildly, horrified by Harry's horrified gaze.

· But-eh... deb no way...

· How do you know you had to come here? - Harry continued his questioning, and that's when he noticed that he was still pointing his wand at the boy.

"Give me this…" Percy reached into his pocket (Harry followed the movement carefully; he didn't trust him in the least) and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with the address of the house on it.

· What made you give it to me, if I may know? Harry grumbled.

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· Nothing. Only you're right... look at your mother... - And you weren't curious

about your father? he shouted angrily in Percy's face. "What about your brothers?" The ones you betrayed? You're not even worthy of the Weasley name, you traitor!

Harry marveled at himself for a moment, though nothing showed on his face; he had no idea what had said to him.

Percy regained some of his insulted dignity and frowned angrily. Wiping his bleeding nose, however, the sight was more comical than serious.

"But do you think you're good for him, Harry?" he retorted. "You wormed your way into your family and dragged their mothers into this war... you black magus!" he added angrily.

Harry was close to cursing Percy again – mostly because he was hurt by this inconvenient bit of truth. Did he really bring the Weasleys into the war? Maybe they really are in mortal danger now because Harry and Ron were traveling in a cab to Hogwarts…

· Black mage? Harry hissed back, only thinking about that insult to chase away the awkward questions in his mind. "So you talked to Scrimgeur?"

· Bi wild, if you will? Percy whined, dabbing a handful of snow on his face to cool the injury. "Even before I knew you were a raging madman..."

· This raging madman is about to curse your treacherous tongue! Harry threatened, and was shocked at his own words again. This needs to be finished quickly before you lose your mind…

He just stared at Percy's shivering face for a moment, then let go and crawled backwards through the snow. He stood up and helped the Weasley boy up.

· Harry! Harry! - the shouting was heard from the hilltop, and Ron noticed his friend.

Harry waved at him, then looked at Percy's bleeding face. He waved his wand, causing Percy to wince, but the spell only repaired the boy's broken nose, and the next wave cleaned the blood away.

"Come on, let's go," Harry suggested. "Your mother really wants to meet you."

Percy's eyes were filled with sadness - and perhaps fear - but he nodded determinedly. "And let me

give you a piece of advice," Harry added as Percy was about to head up the path they had dug. "For once, don't worry about being right." Accept what they say and everything will be better.

Percy nodded again and Harry let go of the boy's arm and put his wand away. By this time Ron was already tumbling down in the snow to rush to his friend's aid, but Harry waved at him again that everything was fine.

They met halfway, and at first Ron was quite surprised when he saw his brother, and then his surprise turned into deafening silence. She didn't say hello to Percy, didn't even look at him again, but turned around and walked back into the house.

Percy picked up his wet and torn invisibility cloak from the ground and stuffed it into his pocket.

When Harry and Percy reached the roof, only Mr and Mrs Weasley and Aunt Muriel were waiting for the prodigal boy in front of the house, the others went back to the house in protest.

Harry didn't stop to watch the family scene either, but went straight after his friends into the living room. The Weasleys and Hermione alike sat with arms folded, only looking up when Harry entered, taking his place between Fred and Bill on the couch for lack of a better choice. Fleur put on an indifferent face, and since she didn't want to participate in the others' protest, she started towards the kitchen.

The words of Mr and Mrs Weasley came from across the yard. Harry was a little surprised that Mr Weasley was talking to his son again, although the words weren't exactly kind.

· What did you come here for? said the rude voice. "Oh, Arthur, don't…" protested Mrs Weasley.

"Are you regretting telling me your name now, Percy?" "Mr. Weasley's voice was full of sadness."

Many people were already unfaithful to their family and friends, many became traitors. But why? Harry asked himself. What led these people to turn their backs on those from whom they had received so much good?

He understood Pettigrew's betrayal—he hated it, but he understood it. Wormtail feared for his own life, and that meant more to him than honor and the lives of his friends.

Snape's betrayal was also just a cunning ruse that brought Voldemort closer to victory. Harry couldn't overcome his anger, suspicion and contempt for Snape, not until he at least saw for himself that Dumbledore was right.

He also understood the betrayal of Marietta Edgecombe. The curly haired girl's parents worked at the Ministry and ordered her not to confront the Hogwarts Chief Inspector. And Marietta made her decision about who she would side with: whether she would listen to her friends or her parents.

But what was the point of Percy's betrayal? Harry was almost hurt by this thought, he was trying to understand, and his questions just kept coming.

Meanwhile, the Weasleys' conversation continued in front of the house.

"I thought I knew you Percy, but I was wrong," said Mr. Weasley. "You were always so smart, the best student, but it seems you only learned the curriculum..."

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· For heaven's sake, Arthur, it's Christmas! Mrs. Weasley pleaded. "Let him come in."

· Do you want to come in? All right, come in, Percy. Also explain to your siblings why you left.

Mr. Weasley, his wife, and their third-born son came into the living room. Everyone had a different reaction to seeing Percy. Fred and George marched out into the kitchen and glared at Percy. Bill remained seated, but his face was more serious than ever. Ron was fuming to himself and Hermione was sitting next to him putting her arm around his shoulders to stop him from jumping up and doing something stupid. Ginny and Aunt Muriel looked at Percy with expressionless faces.

"I thought what everyone else did," Percy said. "I thought Dumbledore was wrong…"

· No, you didn't think he was wrong, you thought he was lying! He, Dumbledore! "No dad, I thought Harry was lying…"

· You believed what Caramel wanted you to believe, and all for your career! "Mr Weasley said it like it was the most disgusting thing in the world."

The career… The success and the power… Is it worth anything? Harry asked himself. "A crowd of faceless people work like ants, and they say it's for success." But what do they mean by success? Do they even know what the real purpose is, or have they lost it long ago? They may think that they work for money... But the money is just spent and spent, whether they save it or scatter it with both hands, it doesn't matter. They spend it on food, entertainment, a bigger, nicer apartment, shiny cauldrons and fast brooms. Does this make any sense? And the question came again: does what he,

Harry, is doing make any sense?

· Defeating Voldemort makes sense! answered the voice in his head, which curiously reminded him of Dumbledore's. "It makes sense for someone to do his job until his task becomes overwhelming." It's good as long as you do your job and your job doesn't do you. - And that's all I'd be? came the next question in Harry's

voice, in the recesses of Harry's brain. "Voldemort's enemy, and that's it?" Would Percy be all that? A ministry employee who turned his back on his family?

Percy took Harry's advice and didn't defend himself against his father's accusations. He endured the true words in silence, like a little child who put the wrong wood on the fire.

· I'm sorry...

· Are you sorry? Are you saying you're sorry? "Mr. Weasley wasn't yelling anymore, but he wasn't calm either." "You say you're sorry when you break a broom or fail a potion." But betrayal…

"Arthur, please don't bring this up," muttered Mrs Weasley.

· Molly, this needs to be put to an end, once and for all. I want to know who Percy is! Mr. Weasley turned back to his son. "Who are you Percy?" The ministerial assistant, or my son?

Harry's thoughts turned inward again. Who is he? The Boy Who Lived or the Chosen One? He already knew that the two were not one and the same. At the age of eleven, the boy standing in front of the mirror was the little survivor. And the seventeen-year-old is the Chosen One. There is a big difference between the two. And what made Harry's thoughts so oppressive was that he didn't know what would happen next. The Chosen One does not stay forever. Either he will be a corpse - whether he rejects this assumption or not - or... Who? Who will he become?

· No... I'm no longer a subordinate...

· Huh, they got fired, huh? growled Mr. Weasley.

· No...

· Scrimgeur didn't need you anymore. There were only kisses as long as you could use them! That's the difference between colleagues and friends, Percy!

· I wasn't fired. "I quit," Percy interjected. Mr. Weasley fell silent.

"Dad, I've changed," Percy continued desperately. "I swear." And I realized I was wrong.

· So you are my son? Mr. Weasley asked with a dry mouth, somewhat hoarsely.

· You... you denied me, you have to say this...

· No! the man stated. "I denied the ministerial assistant, but only you can know if it's over."

The answer then came to Harry's questions. Harry was so deep in thought during the conversation that he didn't even notice what direction events had taken. The Weasley family was complete again and Mr and Mrs Weasley hugged Percy. Ron, Bill and the twins were no longer so forthcoming, but they accepted their brother's return to their midst.

It was Ginny who answered his questions. Not with a word or a look, but just a touch. After giving Percy a Merry Christmas with a quick hug, she went over to Harry, who was still sitting on the couch, though Bill and Fred had left him alone in the meantime.

Ginny took Harry's hand and sat next to him.

· What will I become? - I can't know that. I know what I am now. Whose task is to stop Voldemort. This is my job, this is who I am. And if I achieve that, it won't mean the end of anything - it'll just be a change. New goals, new desires, new joys - and a new patron. New pictures in the mirror of Edevis. Dumbledore said it, and I should have known it was true for me: life is change. And every struggle gives life a new chance. At the end of every

struggle, when every goal is reached, a new change begins, which entails new struggles. What we think is the most important thing in the world today is just a

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of many changes. Percy, the ministerial assistant, was just one of the boy's changes. And it ended like everything else. Had Percy made the wrong decision? It might have seemed like it at the time, but without him, this new, much more valuable Percy wouldn't be standing here in front of us. Who was more than before.

So our questions are the most unnecessary. We don't have to look for the answers, they will come anyway - even if we don't realize that we already have them. You don't have to be afraid of difficult questions. You just have to live - that's the answer to everything.

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Chapter

19 Relative visit

Harry had a troubled night. The long hours spent talking after the Christmas dinner and fleeting family reunion exhausted him, and finally at half past twelve he staggered up to his upstairs room, dead tired. Ron didn't go with him citing a shower, and they didn't even meet that day, because Harry fell asleep almost immediately. Maybe it was the amount of whiskey consumed, maybe it was because of Ginny's intoxicating flower scent and kiss, but Harry had a very vivid dream of the two of them and a dark room - however, the dream didn't stop at all pleasant images and feelings, which was not at all surprising in Harry's dreams. His thoughts and feelings every day, every minute of the day, were like a lake, the surface of which was constantly being pelted with stones, and the circular waves kept sending new memories and the distorted creations of Harry's mind into a great mess.

The prediction and the two possible futures - and the thousands of other imagined, desired, or repulsive visions of the future swirled around his thoughts, when his eyes magically looked up into the cold, dark, but soothing night.

He was dripping with sweat and gasping for air. With a powerful movement, he pushed himself into a sitting position, and after a few minutes of pointless fidgeting, he decided it was time to drink a glass of dandelion juice. Careful not to wake Ron, he placed his feet on the creaking floor and headed for the door when the moonlight shining through the window illuminated his friend's bed. Ron wasn't there.

Harry grinned – Ron seemed to have found himself a nicer place to sleep. Bending his head, he increased his steps and started towards the coveted soft drink. He made his way to the kitchen, and one floor down he noticed a light coming from under one of the slightly open doors. It took him a few seconds to recognize the door. It was the ominous bathroom.

Harry froze. It was all so twisted. Even he was amazed at this thought, and he didn't know why it occurred to him, but he felt in his gut that something was wrong. As he stood there in the pitch-dark stairwell, with only a yellowish streak of light as the only light, everything seemed so unnatural to him.

He suddenly felt dizzy and fell forward, but managed to grab hold of the banister, which creaked in protest but helped Harry's faltering legs out.

"Damn," Harry grumbled to himself. "I don't drink anymore..."

This dizziness was unsettling, he felt almost defenseless. He knew that feeling, but he didn't know where it came from.

It wasn't like when he was in danger, when he knew something was wrong. The bad thing about his current state was that he needed to be safe—yet he didn't feel that way.

When he regained his strength, he put down the dandelion and headed for the bathroom faucet as an easier target. Arriving in the village, he was momentarily blinded by the light and his eyes welled up with tears, but he soon adapted to the new conditions.

Without thinking, he threw himself on the faucet and just swallowed the cold water. He washed his face, wrists, and shoulders. While washing, he turned his head to the side, towards the curtained gold tub - and a limp hand was hanging out of it.

Harry immediately went to the tub and pulled open the curtain.

· Ron! Harry shouted when he saw his unconscious friend. "My God!"

Harry was struck with terror – was his injury serious? He immediately bent down to examine and lifted his friend out of the tub. The boy was still dripping water, he must have fainted recently. Harry pulled his wand from his pajama pocket and pointed it at the back of Ron's head, where a small bruise had appeared. He healed the wound, then with a slow flick of his wand cast a cautious awakening charm on Ron.

"Hey… what… what happened…" Ron muttered weakly.

"You could have fallen and hit your head," Harry answered, pulling his friend into a sitting position.

"Oh… I don't remember… the image just kind of blended together…" Ron explained, feeling his head. "You seem

to have had a lot to drink too," Harry added with a smile. He was no longer worried that he had seen it, he was fine To Ron.

· Ah... maybe... - the boy let him. "Would you hand me the towel?"

Harry helped her up and then escorted her upstairs. Ron complained that he had a headache and felt a little dizzy.

You're not alone, Harry thought, remembering the nagging feeling again. "No, it wasn't Voldemort!" he convinced himself as he headed back to the kitchen to get Ron some pain-relieving magic syrup from the home supply that Aunt Muriel kept on the top shelf of the pantry.

Harry stumbled down the stairs and found himself in the living room – not alone.

· How about you? Can't you sleep? Bill asked when he saw Harry in the living room door.

The oldest Weasley boy was sitting with his wife in the armchairs next to the smoking table, and they didn't look sleepy at all.

"I could ask that too," Harry dodged the answer. "Are you night owls?"

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Bill smiled faintly. Fleur studied Harry's face in silence. He seemed to suspect that Harry's awakening was no mere coincidence.

Harry quickly turned away and headed towards the pantry that opened from the kitchen. Meanwhile, he explained: - Ron slipped in the tub and hit his head. He needs some pain reliever... He's such a jerk sometimes, isn't he?

· Are you okay? Bill asked.

"No, nothing serious," Harry reassured. - Just a little dizziness, nothing more - meanwhile he took down a white, worn box from the top shelf, on which a pattern of a snake coiled around a goblet was drawn, and on it the inscription: First aid.

"Don't take that, but the blue vial," suggested Bill, when Harry peered over his shoulder and noticed that the boy's hand was reaching for the red pain reliever. - It can confuse your thoughts, but dormidia is soothing, you won't dream or feel dizzy...

· Thank

you. - 'I'm sorry, you're going to have trouble with your patron saint,' said Fleur from the living room.

Harry looked at the ceiling and sighed in resignation.

· I have no problem with it - he lied. "I'm changing a little, that's all."

Fleur left it at that. Bill walked back to his wife with a smile and sat across from her. Harry said goodbye to them and went back to Ron, who was lazily sitting on his bed with his back against the wall. While Harry was gone she toweled off and got dressed.

· My brain is throbbing... - he complained. "If it still hurts like this tomorrow, I could be taken to the closed ward like Lockhart..."

Harry gave her a half-smile and unwrapped the blue vial of dormidia potion. "Here, this will help your heavy head," he said jokingly.

Ron pulled on the bottle and gulped down the liquid.

"Thanks, that was nice," said Ron, but his voice was more disgusted by the acrid taste of the potion than thanks.

Harry also leaned his back against the wall and stared out at the snowy landscape bathed in moonlight. His thoughts returned to the dream, to Ginny, and to what he had remembered when he found Ron's bed empty.

"Tell me what's going on between you and Hermione now," the question blurted out before he could stop her. The veiled look disappeared from Ron's eyes and he looked at Harry with an inexplicable expression on his face.

· What do you mean? he asked.

"Well…so," Harry replied. "I mean what it sounds like." Last year, it was as if something had started to develop. "Um…yeah…I guess so," said Ron.

· You just think so? Harry continued to pound the iron.

"Okay, I don't just believe it then," snapped Ron, his voice ringing louder now. "There really is more between us, it's just... just somehow none of us wants to break it off..."

· Interrupt? Harry asked back with genuine incomprehension. "What kind of interruption are you talking about?" Ron let out a reluctant huff before answering.

· It feels so good for both of us. It's so good… just to be like this… Do you understand? "Not a peep," Harry admitted.

Ron blew again and pushed himself up in his sitting position. He looked Harry in the eye with his back straight.

· Listen, it's kind of a waiting thing... that's been a little long. I think it's been going on since we were in our third year. None of us want to take that particular step.

· Why?

· Because that would be something completely different, which none of us knows if it would be better. If… if I kissed her and we walked or something, it would be so weird. But just waiting for each other keeps this good feeling...

I've never really felt better around him. Hermione threw Krum, and I threw Lavender... - Ron warmed more and more to the explanation. He was obviously glad to be able to tell someone this, even if he couldn't explain the both went bankrupt with someone

else. I think we can wait for each a while.

Harry scratched his head.

"Kill me if I understand you," he growled, then laughed softly.

· The point is that I understand - Ron ended the conversation and leaned on his bed.

Sleepiness soon returned to them. Harry's thoughts were now racing again and he tried to calm them down so he could get some sleep before another day dawned on them.

After this did not achieve any results, he came to the conclusion that his dream was disturbed because of the manic urge to act that had recently resurfaced. He must come to some kind of decision in order to get through the stagnant period in the wizarding war with his sanity. After thinking for a few minutes, he made up his mind, and shared this with Ron with the last of his strength before they fell asleep.

· Ron…

· Huh?

-... I'm going to visit my aunt tomorrow. are you coming

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Pause for a few moments.

· Aha.

· Good. Good night then.

It was noon when Harry awoke again, from a slightly more restful sleep than before. Ron found his bed empty again, but now he wasn't surprised. He followed his friend's lead and got dressed, then joined the others in the living room.

"Finally, Harry, I was about to wake you up," Ginny said by way of greeting. "It's lunch."

The entire celebratory headquarters was present in the living room, and a magically extended dining table was set. In the living room were Hagrid, Tonks, Lupin, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Aunt Muriel, Percy, Fred and George and Harry's friends.

Paulina was sitting on Hermione's lap playing with her new baby. However, two were missing.

· Where are Bill and Fleur? Harry asked.

· Oh, Bill had urgent business at Hogwarts - answered Mrs Weasley, and she floated a large bowl of soup onto the table, which Fred and George jumped on like locusts, and Fleur had to go back to school because Mc-G, onagall called. Your letter arrived this morning.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "I met them at night." They were sitting in the living room…

"Yes, it's become a habit of theirs lately," smiled Mrs. Weasley. "Nights spent talking... Do you remember, Arthur, how much we used to walk in the garden at night?"

"Yes Molly, I remember," Mr. Weasley allowed her kindly.

After eating the delicious festive lunch, Hagrid and the twins said goodbye to the company and left the headquarters. Mrs. Weasley and her two assistants, Ginny and Hermione, began to wash the dishes, and Harry and Ron took advantage of this time to go up to their rooms to change.

· Are you really coming? Harry asked again.

"Sure," Ron nodded immediately. "You can't walk alone."

They dressed in muggle clothes - jeans, sweaters and winter coats, wrapped their brand new scarves around their necks and headed back to the living room.

· Where did you go? Mrs. Weasley preceded Harry. The woman looked at them sternly with her hands on her hips.

"We're going to Little Whinging," Ron replied nonchalantly for Harry. Lupine rose from his chair.

· Hoho, stop the march! Mr. Weasley told them. "They couldn't just leave alone."

"You must," said Ron before Harry opened his mouth. It seemed to Harry that his friend wanted to quickly smooth over the questioning. He knew, as did Harry, that after the conversation with Dumbledore, the search for his grandmother no longer made much sense in the pursuit of Horcruxes.

· Harry, Ron wait! Hermione said after them, and with Ginny in tow, they followed the boys heading for the front door. "Why didn't you say you wanted to go?" Why…?

"Hermione, I…" Harry began but couldn't finish again.

· Oh well! Ron snapped suddenly, causing Hermione to flinch. "I'm tired of being locked up, we're both tired." You don't have to fear the goblins, Voldemort has better things to do than hunt us, and the dementors are having tea at home with their grandmother. It will be okay!

Even Harry's jaw dropped at Ron's flurry of words and the others blinked in surprise. Lupine didn't want another clash with Harry: "Okay then… take care of

yourselves…" he said.

"We're used to it," Harry mumbled and started to leave.

"Muriel," said Mr. Weasley to the aunt, who immediately raised her head. "As we discussed... Get ready!"

The Harrys only heard this with half an ear because they were already outside in the snowy yard in front of the Prewett house.

"Huh, Ron that was a bit strong," Harry commented as he and his friend trudged down the hillside.

An interesting smile tugged at the corner of Ron's mouth.

· I know... but we wanted to go, didn't we? he shrugged. – We had to be decisive, otherwise we could have listened to their text for an hour.

A memory dawned on Harry.

"Fred or George said something like that about their mothers," Harry remarked. "That you shouldn't let it warm up, because then you can't stop it."

Ron laughed.

· Yes, sort of. And that's true of Hermione too… and Ginny too - you'd better remember that! Ron winked at Harry and laughed again.

In the meantime, they reached the bottom of the hill and came to the hated but safe magical boundary line. Harry instinctively stopped and hesitated.

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He will have to go through this again and live through Voldemort's words that will be hissing in his ears… Ron drew his wand and pointed it at Harry.

· What are you doing...?!

· Stupor!

Everything went dark in front of Harry. When he woke up again, he wasn't lying on his back in the cold snow, but he was leaning on Ron's shoulder in an extremely uncomfortable position.

"Well, wake up!" Ron laughed in her ear.

"You stunned me..." Harry muttered reproachfully.

· I just wanted to thank you for getting me out of the tub yesterday - answered the boy in a self-explanatory tone. "You chose an interesting way..." Harry muttered.

"I don't understand why you're grumbling," Ron shook his head. - Your wound didn't hurt, did it?

· No… - Harry stood up and thoughtfully rubbed the lightning-shaped scar. There was no sign of pain. "Thanks, Ron."

"Nothing," grinned the red-haired boy. "I'm happy to knock you out anytime you want."

· Haha. Let's go.

They had to walk a kilometer and a half in knee-deep snow, and now they were moving much more slowly than before. The walk down the hillside was also easier, since the snow on the slope did not remain in as much mass as in the valley.

Finally, they arrived at the gnarled oak tree, which was the tallest in the area, marking the limit of the anti-de-hopping charm. Two owls roosted on its branches, and next to them, a black crow with ruffled feathers rested in family tranquility. The crow crowed when it saw the Harrys, but the owls just turned their huge heads curiously.

Harry and Ron stopped at the base of the tree, then grabbed the hem of each other's coats and prepared to jump. They pushed away, and after squeezing together, the girbegur tree and the snowy landscape disappeared from them, and only a dirty alley surrounded them. Harry looked around and was satisfied that they had arrived at the right place.

He ended up in the same alley from which he started in July.

Harry had a strange feeling. If someone had told him a few months ago that he was going back to the Dursley house for a quick visit at Christmas, he would have laughed at the thought. But now... here he is again - somehow the place gave him the feeling of starting a difficult and long operation all over again.

He stepped out of the alley onto the well-known street. He was greeted by almost identical, peaceful, middle-class, well-kept houses, with a car no older than two or three years old in front of each one - although not many of them were visible under the thick layer of snow.

"Well," Ron wondered as he looked around the area. "How peaceful..." "The most boring neighborhood in the world," Harry added.

Ron looked at him doubtfully, and Harry was forced to amend his statement.

· Well, only when I'm not here - Harry grinned, but his smile immediately melted from his face, because he was very hot. He pulled the tufted hat off his head and loosened the thick scarf to get more air.

His forehead was damp, but the cool air did him good.

"Let's go," suggested Ron, motioning for Harry to lead the way.

Harry started down the snowy road. They drove in the middle, where the cars trampled the slush, the sidewalk was cleaned only by one or two diligent residents. As they walked down the street and turned onto Privet Drive through Magnolia Drive, they saw a couple of people with snow shovels and children playing and building snowmen. Everything was peaceful and calm, as Ron could tell.

"Well, we've arrived," Harry said as they stopped in front of house number 4.

The building - the sight of which did not fill Harry with pleasant feelings or nostalgic thoughts at all - looked the same as the last time he had seen it. Ron looked around the Dursley house and had been smiling continuously since they arrived in the area. Harry was of the opinion that even Mr Weasley could be on his side, Ron looked so much like his father with the glint of curiosity in his eyes.

· Come on, knock! Ron assured.

Harry sighed and walked to the door. Before he rang the bell, his hand stopped in mid-air and he wondered what he was even going to say? What if they slam the door in your face? He didn't even bring a Christmas present, like a kind of honeysuckle. Then it occurred to him that the Dursleys wouldn't accept anything from him anyway, because they would think that his gift would turn all three of them into toads. Harry imagined a fat, purple-faced toad with Uncle Vernon's catfish mustache and rang the bell as he did so.

A characteristic humming was heard, and soon the sound of footsteps filtered out from the foreground. The lock clicked, the door opened, and Harry saw Uncle Vernon's face behind him for a moment - then the door slammed shut.

Harry glanced back at Ron, who was watching the developments with raised eyebrows. Harry shook his head and knocked.

· Uncle Vernon! Harry said.

· Get out, kid! - growled the uncle from behind the door, and judging by the sounds, he threw his back against the door to block it with his weight so that his former adopted son wouldn't get into the house with some sneaky trick.

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"I want to talk to Aunt Petunia..." Harry continued hopelessly.

· No - came the rejection. "We have nothing to do with you!" You've caused us enough trouble. Cover up! Now another voice spoke from the hall: - What happened?

a man asked curiously.

Uncle Vernon answered with a stutter—probably stressed by having to make a scene in front of a guest.

· No-no-nothing, it's not important... just an unpleasant acquaintance... no problem.

Harry looked curiously through the small window next to the front door, and next to Uncle Vernon's figure supporting the door, he saw a man with long, brown hair holding a glass of brandy in his hand.

"So who the hell is this?" Harry wondered. He had never seen this person before, even though the Dursleys often had guests in their house - Uncle Vernon's clients, Aunt Petunia's girlfriends, Dudley's friends and their parents.

"Well, no..." the man began when he saw Harry's face in the window, but Uncle Vernon quickly covered the small window with his huge body.

Harry sighed and shook his head, his eyes straying to Ron. His friend drew his wand and pointed it at the door.

He quickly spread the fingers of his other fisted hand, looking at Harry questioningly. He wondered if he should blow up the entrance.

Harry shook his head with wide eyes and motioned for Ron to put his wand away. The conversation continued inside.

"Petunia, isn't that your nephew, is that Harold?" the man asked.

"But… but he is…" Aunt Petunia reluctantly admitted, her soft voice coming from the living room.

· Why won't you let me in? It's minus five degrees outside, and it's Christmas...Mr. Dursley, take heart... Nothing was heard for a few seconds, Uncle Vernon was thinking - this was known to be very difficult for him.

Harry could almost see the color changes on his uncle's face before him: the pallor when their guest noticed him, the lilt as he debated with bated breath, and finally the blush as he angrily, against his convictions, opened the door and let Harry in.

When the door opened, Harry and Ron were greeted by the angry Uncle Vernon, the pale, languid Aunt Petunia, Dudley, who was curious and then frightened at the sight of Ron, and the guest, who reminded Harry a bit of Dumbledore with his long, brown hair

in a ponytail. The man looked at them curiously, and Uncle Vernon ushered the two boys into the living room without an introduction.

"Hello…" Harry muttered in confusion, giving Aunt Petunia a faint smile. The aunt did not return it. Harry glanced up at the ceiling.

"Hello, I'm Ron Weasley," Ron introduced himself to everyone, including the guest.

· Merry Christmas - the man smiled and introduced himself: - I'm Marcus Leonard, Petunia's old schoolmate from high school... And you...?

· Oh, I just accompanied Harry. He wanted to visit his aunt and… Uncle Vernon grunted scornfully, but said nothing.

"Um, Harry, what?" Leonard asked turning to Harry. He had an elongated face, on which there was no trace of a single little beard, his eyes shone a cold blue.

"Potter, sir," he replied, holding out his hand.

Mr. Leonard shook hands with him, but did not remove the thick glove covering his right hand.

"I hope you'll forgive me for being so rude, but I suffer from an extremely embarrassing skin disease," the man explained, sipping his drink.

Dudley also sat down on the couch and tried to pretend he wasn't scared to death by the presence of the tall red-haired Ron.

He turned on the TV and pretended he wasn't there, but Harry knew he was just pretending to be calm - the TV was playing an educational film about chameleons, but Dudley hated any kind of nature film.

· Well, why did you come? Uncle Vernon settled the conversation. His look told me that he didn't think it was a good idea for a wizard to shake hands with his guest in his house.

Harry shot him a pointed look, reminding him that he had come to see Aunt Petunia, not him, but the uncle didn't take the card.

· Would you finally pop out? Vernon was impatient. He wanted to know his nephew outside the house as soon as possible. "I want to talk to Aunt Petunia," Harry stated in an uncontroversial voice.

Marcus Leonard looked between the two of them. Ron didn't bother, he took one of the armchairs. Uncle Vernon's face began to twitch dangerously at this.

Harry agreed and walked over to Aunt Petunia standing in the living room doorway. The aunt took a step back, which she then tried to disguise as an urgent task in the kitchen. Harry followed and they stopped by the sink.

"First of all, Merry Christmas," Harry began, lowering his voice so that those remaining in the living room could not hear what they were talking about. Ron and Mr Leonard started talking - Harry couldn't hear what, but he wasn't paying attention either.

Petunia didn't return the gesture, letting it go by her ear and awkwardly starting to wash the dishes. Either she's changed her mind since their conversation at the end of July, or she's just continuing the charade in front of her husband.

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Harry trusted the latter, and immediately began what he had to say. He knew instinctively that he shouldn't burden the Dursleys with too much unnecessary gossip because it wouldn't end well.

· I want to ask you about someone... I recently heard some interesting things about grandma. A plate fell from Aunt Petunia's hand, but Harry quickly caught it and handed it back to his aunt.

· Why didn't you ever talk about Grandma Rose? Harry asked, trying not to sound reproachful. Petunia put her hand over her mouth in horror as if Harry had said something nasty.

· What's up?

· Don't... don't say his name...

· What?! Harry growled in a whisper, giving his voice a gruff, hissing tone.

· No... not because... I just don't want him to come back...

· Back? But...?

Harry's mind started to get tangled up in thoughts. He stared out the window, on the ledge of which a black bird was crawling up and down.

Harry shook his head to clear his mind.

· When did you last see grandma? Aunt Petunia sighed deeply.

· What do you want to know? he asked in an unfortunate voice. "It would be very important, but I can't tell you why," Harry stated.

Aunt Petunia raised her head in anger and pride and choked on the dishes.

· Please! I need to know! Harry pleaded in a whisper.

The please worked, Aunt Petunia put down the plate and the sponge, then leaned over to Harry and began to speak so softly that the boy could barely hear him.

"That was the last time I saw my mother before Lily died," he whispered. "He visited me a few weeks ago, but I saw him die before that..." Aunt Petunia shuddered. - You mean it was a ghost?

· Shut up! the aunt snapped, and all four heads from the living room turned towards them. Marcus Leonard narrowed his eyes.

· It's not like... it wasn't like before... - the aunt admitted. "It was transparent... My God, what am I talking to you!" he looked at Harry as sternly as ever. He hated being forced to confess. - And did he say something? said Harry softly.

· She... she asked to let her live with us - said the aunt and she was visibly shaken again. "I didn't know it was possible, but you can think I sent it!"

· Did you send it? Harry was shocked.

· What could I have done anyway? the aunt roared. - What if the neighbors noticed? If they saw that it was transparent, they would have called the TV people and the doctors! We would never have survived that shame.

Harry clamped his mouth shut to keep from saying what was on the tip of his tongue.

· Why did he visit you? Why didn't he go to his mother? Harry asked further.

· Because he had no idea where your dear good mother was! he snapped at Harry. - Lily should have taken care of him, she knew about this hocus pocus and what was wrong with him... But no, that stupid war of yours was more important to him!

He angrily slammed the washcloth down and finally turned to Harry with his hands on his hips.

· I was afraid he would come back to haunt me - the aunt continued with a shudder. "That's why I never talked about him, I also burned his photos." I already said in the summer that I broke up with that world! I have nothing to do with it! Petunia raised her voice. "Not to me, not to Vernon, not to Dudley." We live differently than you and Lily and my mother... You keep getting involved in your stupid things!

"So you just threw it away…" Harry started accusingly, but Petunia held up her hand and turned back to washing up, indicating that she didn't want to hear accusations. - And didn't you

mention something else? Harry realized the new question. "Where is he going, what is he going to do?"

· How would I know where he went? He must have gone to haunt some ancient castle... That's his style... It would be typical...

Harry shook his head and turned his back on his aunt. Then he turned back to her again.

· Then we have nothing more to do with each other - he said. "I'm leaving and I'm not coming back." You don't have to be afraid, I won't involve you in anything anymore...

· You already did! Petunia snapped at him, and she and Harry locked eyes for a minute.

Harry thought that his aunt was referring to the many incidents that Harry's presence had caused the Dursleys, and held his aunt's gaze firmly. Not so Petunia: her eyes flicked to the side. Harry didn't understand, but Aunt Petunia glanced to the side again, as if to indicate something.

Harry followed his gaze, which went straight to the guest sitting in the living room - Marcus Leonard was deep in conversation with Ron about him, Harry. His friend was just telling him how strange Harry is, he's often nervous and suddenly angry, but he's a very good friend.

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"Damn, already here…" Harry grumbled as his tantus fell off. The ministerial pribéks are after him again. "Scrimgeur will never give up on me and the Phoenixes again?!"

"He came in the morning," Petunia nodded. "I told Vernon, an old acquaintance of mine, but I've never seen him before." This man threatened me…" Petunia muttered deathly pale. "He was curious about you, he knew you were coming here today."

· How could you know? Harry was shocked. "No one knew!" I even told my friends only a minute before departure…

· You should know, after all, it's your kind! the aunt grumbled. "It would be good if you disappeared from here as soon as possible." If they're gone, he's gone too.

Harry cursed to himself and heard a soft knock. The crow perched on the windowsill tapped rhythmically on the glass.

· Well, Merry Christmas to you too, Aunt Petunia! Harry said aloud, and Ron stood up from his chair. He understood Harry's signal and Marcus Leonard frowned even more. He looked at them with a dark expression. Harry, if he hadn't heard Aunt Petunia's warning, would have already started to suspect him.

· Have you gone yet? - the man feigned surprise, and he also stood up.

· Yes, they are waiting at home, we can't stay any longer - Harry hastened to explain.

Harry picked up his coat, wrapped the scarf around his neck and headed for the hall. Marcus Leonard followed him like a shadow. She could almost feel his burning gaze on the back of her head. He fiddled nervously with the lock and opened it, then quickly slipped out, Ron in tow.

He turned back one last time and saw Leonard in the Dursleys' ring. The man was looking at his shoes, didn't look up. Harry waved at the Dursleys.

· Hello then...

PAFF. Uncle Vernon slammed the door behind Harry, his draft sweeping the snow off the pavement.

Harry didn't take another look at the house and stormed off down the sidewalk, back on his usual route. Ron trotted past him with a confused expression on his face.

· What happened? Was something wrong? he asked nervously.

· Ron, what did you tell him about me? Harry evaded the answer. Ron frowned.

"Nothing," he admitted. - Just generalities... what kind of person are you, that you are nervous, and so on... Oh no! Ron suddenly exclaimed.

Harry paused.

· What happened? Harry asked now.

Ron was still looking like he couldn't believe his ears.

· That's not true... no, it can't be a coincidence... - he muttered in confusion. "Harry, I don't think I spoke of my own volition."

· Us?

· He has mesmerized me! snapped Ron. "I didn't notice and he forced me to tell about you!"

Harry gasped and nervously glanced back towards the house. Nothing moved there, the lights were on inside, there was nothing to indicate that a ministerial auror was about to rush after them to arrest them on charges of visiting relatives...

"Weird…" Ron muttered.

Harry looked at his friend questioningly.

· He really didn't ask anything specific. He was wondering what kind of person you were. How you act, what's your mood... I don't understand why he was interested...

"Perhaps Scrimgeur wants to get to know you," Harry guessed. "Even if that figure really belonged to the ministry..." "It was," said a voice behind the Harrys as they both spun around with wands in hand.

Aunt Muriel stood in front of them, her face very gloomy, and she took a black feather from her tangled reddish-brown hair. - Fringe feathers...

· Aunt Muriel! what are you doing here Ron was surprised and lowered his wand with Harry.

· My business, he said in a natural voice. "I'll take care of you as best I can." - You were

that crow on the ledge, weren't you? Harry added when he saw the aunt pull another feather out of her hair.

· Yes, but the animagi isn't doing as well as before. My pen keeps falling... - he complained.

"So..." the aunt cleared her throat. "That figure was a Ministry Auror." He is a member of the group that the minister sent to sniff out you and the Order. You will meet him again, I'm afraid.

Harry cursed softly, as did Ron.

· How did you talk? said the aunt to them. "Things won't get better if you make such rude comments!" That's not good for anything. But I will say something that will cheer you up a little. the aunt added, and the Harrys stopped cringing. "Come on, let's go home."

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The next time Harry, Ron and Aunt Muriel spoke to each other was in front of the magical boundary line, as everyone was digesting what had happened during the walk. Standing in front of the line, however, Harry freaked out.

· Do you have to stun me again? he asked. "Is there no other way, Aunt Muriel?"

· But there is. If that's more convenient, I'll turn you into a bug, and then you can walk across the line, because I don't think the mental abilities of an insect affect You Know…

However, Harry didn't feel like looking at the world in the form of a bug, not even for a fleeting minute, so he accepted the stupefying curse instead.

Arriving at the house, everyone started asking what happened, but the Harrys were exempted from reporting, Aunt Muriel told everything about Leonard.

"Okay, it's almost lunch time," Aunt Muriel finished, "until then come up to my study for a minute, Harry." I have a talk with you.

Harry glanced at Ron, his friend shrugged and Harry started to follow his aunt. The old woman climbed the steps with surprising agility, and as she reached the top, she burst open the door of the room and stormed through it.

Harry also entered the mirrored room and waited in silence while the aunt looked at herself in the mirrors and made small strokes on the shiny surface with her palm. To Harry's astonishment, writing appeared on the mirrors - like when someone blows mist on a window, and the things drawn on it with a finger appear on it.

There were hastily scribbled notes on the mirrors, things like: 'reports to Mr Caarog, reports to Mr Robards, reports to Mr Nutty'… Harry suspected for some reason that he was referring to Nutty Scrimgeur.

There were also particularly mysterious notes, they appeared only for a moment, and Aunt Muriel immediately disappeared them so that Harry's prying eyes wouldn't see them: "anti-dementing container plans, soul collection plans, Speculum Aperitur notes"... and there were also quite ordinary ones: "Molly's Meatball Recipe, Parchment, Photo Album".

Aunt Muriel pulled out her long wooden wand and pointed it at the latter mirror. The writing and the reflection disappeared from it, and a narrow little drawer appeared behind it, containing piles of papers and books. The aunt took out a leather folder and closed the mirror.

"Come on, I'll be interested in this," he showed Harry the folder and placed it on the desk, then offered Harry a seat. After they were both seated, Aunt Muriel opened the pages. It was an old photo album.

"I heard what you and Petunia were talking about," said the aunt, and Harry was surprised at how direct the old woman sounded when she mentioned his aunt. "You should have turned to me… of course you couldn't."

Harry's mouth dropped open for a moment.

· Did you know my grandmother? he asked in shock. -

We were classmates and close friends - the aunt nodded. "I went to Ravenclaw and he went to Gryffindor." Not for every class of course, since Rosie was a muggle, you know?

Harry nodded.

· Yes, I heard from Dumbledore.

Aunt Muriel squinted tellingly as she flipped through the album. He soon stopped at a very old group photo which, according to the signed note, depicted the Hogwarts class of 1955.

· Just look! the old woman pointed to the people in the back row of the group. They obediently walked away, and a couple separated from them. A red-haired, brown-eyed, tall girl in a blue robe, and next to her was a girl with curly brown hair and sparkling green eyes, who was much shorter than her and wearing a red robe. They wore shiny hats on their heads. The two girlfriends were hanging around with their arms around each other and waving.

"Has Dumbledore told you all about him?" asked the aunt.

Harry remained silent now. He didn't know how much he could tell Aunt Muriel - since he couldn't mention Horcruxes… or could he?

· Did he tell you that Rosie was sick? Aunt Muriel asked again.

· Yes, he told me that... He told me that he healed him and that he went back among the muggles. And that he doesn't know what happened to him... He... says he's dead, but...

Aunt Muriel nodded and smiled.

· So he knew too - muttered the aunt. "I'm not surprised..." Harry furrowed his brows.

· Why didn't you tell me about it until now? Harry asked.

· I promised Rose I wouldn't talk about it. Neither Lily nor Dumbledore. He didn't want to be seen like that. Of course, he didn't know what happened to Lily then, he didn't even know why they were hiding... and let's face it, I don't know either, to this day, only hearing those rumors... - he looked at Harry with a meaningful look, but the boy didn't answer. him. When he later thought back on this conversation, he smiled at the fact that he had chosen the same cautious, wait-and-see tactic that Aunt Muriel had used at the beginning of the conversation with the minister.

· Do you want to meet him? asked the aunt suddenly.

Harry thought he heard badly.

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· Do you know where it is?

· Yes. After failing with the muggle girl, he turned to me. She had no idea what had happened to her, explained the aunt. - He was suffering from some kind of muggle disease, and suddenly he realized that he was out of his body and everything hurt a lot. And I locked him in a special mirror world until I find a cure for him. But… I was unsuccessful. I don't even know what could have gone wrong, I've never heard

of such a case before...

· And then what happened? - asked Harry eagerly, his heart rate doubled - because he knew very well what was wrong with his grandmother.

Aunt Muriel folded the album and put it back in the mirror. He turned back to Harry with a sad face.

"The last time I spoke to him, I had to tell him that his daughter had died," he answered Harry. - He was shocked by the news and didn't talk to me anymore. I broke the twin mirror we were talking through… So your grandmother Harry I'm afraid is really dead. It's in a place that... well... - Aunt Muriel was embarrassed, sat back at her desk and wringed her hands nervously.

"He said I could meet him," Harry reminded his aunt.

· After all… yes, you can meet him. Maybe you can even talk. He will be curious about you.

· When can you take me to him? Harry jumped out of his chair. Aunt Muriel smiled and motioned Harry to rest.

· I'll take you to her place after the holidays. I don't know you yet because... some precautions are needed, said the aunt mysteriously.

Harry frowned.

· How-how? Isn't it here among them? - he pointed around at the many mirrors.

· No, Harry. You know, I'm a scientist and I tried to help him. That mirror world is at the Department of Mysteries. And I can take you there if we have arranged with the Order of the Phoenix beforehand. A week or two, Harry… Until then, please take it easy.

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Chapter 20

The Closed Room

As Christmas passed and the New Year dawned, the Prewett house suddenly seemed deserted. Although Mr. Weasley and the Order members had been working non-stop over the Christmas period, they were now hardly seen at headquarters. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Paulina were left alone with the ever-worrying Mrs Weasley, the quiet and withdrawn Percy and Aunt Muriel. The old woman was the only company the Harrys could enjoy after Ginny reluctantly traveled back to Hogwarts on the first Sunday of January.

However, the old woman, as usual, was in the Ministry a lot, and Harry was impatiently waiting for an opportunity to get into the Mysteries without Scrimgeur's knowledge. He asked Auntie Muriel several times during the first week of the year, and occasionally during the second week - less and less. The answer was always the same: - I will speak Harry, calm down, please!

Harry still hadn't told his aunt that the impatient wait wasn't just for Rose Evans, but also for the search for Horcruxes.

As the days passed in the headquarters, Harry, Ron and Hermione slowly began to feel closed in, but especially little Paulina, noting the danger, they went for a walk in the nearby muggle village more and more often. Mrs. Weasley worried herself sick about them, but Aunt Muriel reassured her that there were no other wizards living in Land's End besides her, and the owls were also keeping a watchful eye.

Then, on the morning of the third Monday in January, the boredom that surrounded Harry finally broke - Lupine returned to HQ after a long absence. After Christmas, he immediately flew away with Tonks, and judging by the Bottomless Bags he had brought with him, they packed for a long trip. Before they left, all they told Harry was that they had found a clue and were hurrying back.

· He'll be here soon! Lupine announced, sweeping the snow off his coat in the hall. "I hope he arrives on time..."

· What is it? Harry and Ron asked.

"I ordered elf mail," answered Lupin, and freeing himself of his boots, he came into the living room. "We finally found that robe." A wizard bought it for his wife, and then they moved to India... Thank you Molly, he explained, downing a cup of butterbeer that Mrs Weasley had pressed into his hand as a warm-up.

Harry was suddenly filled with joy. He and Ron looked at each other, grinning.

· Do you have the dress? This is awesome! Hermione enthused.

"Don't get too excited," Lupin warned them. "We may not have succeeded." You know…

· What clothes were you talking about? Mrs. Weasley asked curiously.

"Some other time Molly," said Mr. Weasley with a smile, ushering Lupin into the living room. "Come sit down!" It was a long journey.

Lupine nodded gratefully.

· Yes, it was long... Finally! I don't know when was the last time I sat on a comfortable sofa.

Harry, Ron and Hermione also sat down across from Lupin, almost burning with the desire to ask him about every detail about the Horcrux hunt. However, they couldn't do that, they knew very well, so Hermione steered the conversation towards harmless things.

· Tonks how are you?

"Good," Lupin replied. "He got tired of flying too... Now he went home to his parents." Merlin knows the last time they saw each other.

Percy also turned downstairs to see who had arrived, then after a weak greeting he went back to his room.

Lupine raised an eyebrow and Mr Weasley shrugged.

· Where is this elf? Lupine looked at his watch. "I asked you here at nine..."

However, the postman arrived a quarter of an hour late - an elf girl wrapped in rags. His title was indicated only by a green badge depicting a post owl. The elf appeared in front of the house and politely knocked.

"I'm terribly sorry for the delay, sir," said the elf, and put down the shipment, a large box wrapped in newspaper. "Tiffy tried, sir, but she was held up at the post office." Of course, Tiffy punishes herself for it... - and started twisting her own ear with it.

"There won't be any need for that," said Hermione and gently forced Tiffy's elf's huge ears free. Lupine paid the postman and Mr Weasley began to open the package.

"Not here," Harry whispered to the man. "Then up in the mirror..."

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· Sir, I have a message too! the elf girl hissed, pointing a long finger at Harry. "Sir is the famous Harry Potter, right?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

Tiffy pulled out a letter from her tattered overcoat and handed it to her. "There's no address on it," said Harry when he took the letter. "Who sent it?"

"Tiffy doesn't know, sir," the elf admitted. – Tiffy was just handed the letter by her boss and sent on her way. Harry looked surprised at the elf, who blinked at him with innocent eyes the size of tennis balls.

He opened the envelope and found a piece of parchment scribbled in blue ink. Harry unfolded the page curiously. There were magic words and runes on the page, and in the middle a…

· Harry, don't look at it! Lupin shouted in horror when he recognized the letter, but it was too late.

Harry's gaze fell on a pair of eyes drawn in the middle of the paper - and at that moment the world around him disappeared. He began to feel dizzy, and a series of swirling, flash-like images flashed before his eyes.

Dumbledore falls from the tower... He talks to his friends after the funeral... He walks around his parents' ruined house... Pictures of the orphanage... Ampók puts a knife to his throat...

The flood of swirling images ended with a searing pain. Harry let out a yelp and collapsed, everything still blurry before his eyes.

· Harry, what happened? came Ron's horrified voice. Paulina sniffed in fright.

· Remus, do something! shouted Mr. Weasley.

Harry finally regained consciousness, kneeling on the floor. His fingers tingled with pain.

· What… what happened? he asked, looking at his burned fingers.

"The letter was cursed," explained Lupin. "He might have done something to you when you looked at him." Then it burned in your hand.

Harry let out a nervous sigh but let Hermione bandage his hands.

· That... I think it's legitimized... that letter. I looked at it and the pictures just came…

· Legitimate? Hermione repeated and immediately looked at Lupin. "Oh my God, if Voldemort found out…" "It wasn't him," Harry interrupted. "He could have gotten into my head in other ways if he really wanted to..."

· Then who else can be considered? asked Mr. Weasley.

Ron and Lupine helped Harry up and escorted him to the couch.

· Where did the elf go? Harry looked around.

"He ran away when you collapsed," Hermione answered. His face was still scared, and Harry tried to look not too unfortunate so as not to alarm his friends. Although the throbbing pain in his hand did not let him down, he was able to think with a cool head again, and he even found an explanation for who his attacker could be.

"It was Snape," Harry declared, seeing more shocked faces around him. "When he taught me Occlumency… I felt the same way… He was curious about something," she said and yawned. "I'm so sleepy..."

Lupine immediately grabbed his shoulder.

· You must not sleep! he warned. "If you sleep, you reveal your mind to him!" Don't fall asleep!

· I'm trying... but I'm very sleepy...

He could only faintly feel himself leaning to the side on the comfortable sofa, and sleepiness would finally take over him. He no longer heard or saw anything, only his dreams around him. Everything that had happened to him since Dumbledore fell from the tower. Everything about Horcruxes, Ampos, his grandmother...

Harry woke up with a pounding in his head, as if someone had hit him in the head. He was in his room, wrapped up to his neck, with thick bandages on both hands. The light of the morning sun shone through the window, not a single cloud floated in the sky.

Harry climbed out of bed, but could only get up slowly, because when he put pressure on the bandage, the pain immediately returned to his fingers. He put on his glasses, slipped into his robe and slippers, and headed for the stairwell.

He was halfway there when he began to gather his thoughts about what had happened and found an explanation for the strange feeling of déjà vu that had eluded him since he had left his room. A few weeks ago he staggered in the stairwell in the same way, and now he guessed that the reason for feeling sick on Christmas Day was not the amount of whiskey he had consumed. In fact, perhaps the same thing is behind Ron's illness - lelimience. Someone must have jinxed him… Harry thought. Maybe Snape, maybe not, maybe it was him both times… But how did he get into headquarters? The line should have thrown him back…

Harry made it downstairs to find Percy, Ron, Hermione, Paulina and Mrs Weasley in the living room. The woman was knitting, and upon seeing something taking shape in front of her, she was knitting a pretty Weasley hoodie for little Paulina, who was sitting on Hermione's lap and showing how long she could stretch her nose. Ron was playing chess with himself, and Percy was reading a book, looking like he used to when he was the other smart egg in Gryffindor tower alongside Hermione.

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They all turned towards Harry when they heard him coming.

· How much did I sleep? Harry asked, cursing silently for not being able to resist the sleepiness that came over him, Snape's magic power... Now he surely knows everything.

"Two days," Ron replied, helping Harry to an armchair.

"We were really worried about you," Hermione complained, looking at Harry as if she expected him to collapse again. "I'm fine… now," Harry added. He looked at the bandage on his hand and another question flashed through his mind.

· How come he hasn't recovered yet?

"It's a cursed wound, Harry," Mrs. Weasley explained, handing him a mug of hot cocoa. Hermione took it and raised it to Harry's mouth, but he snapped angrily: - I'm not disabled, I can drink!

Harry grumbled, and ignoring the pain in his hand, he took the mug and started drinking.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he mumbled after the first sip. "So now I'll have this on my hand forever, right?" he asked further. Mrs Weasley nodded with a pained face.

"I hope the pain will go away..." Harry commented. "A few more of these and I'll look like Scarecrow."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other worriedly, to which Harry sent them a devastating look. Don't feel sorry for him

nobody!

· What happened in the last two days? - he diverted the conversation and glanced at the four newspapers lying on the small table. Hermione's expression immediately changed as she raised her head. He held out the first newspaper to Harry.

"And what about the shipment?" Harry asked when he remembered why the elf post had come.

Ron shook his head, but Harry didn't have time to respond to the gesture, which to him clearly meant another failure.

· This article will interest you! she said after showing one of the front page reports. Harry began to read:

The disappearances continue

With the arrival of the new year, the course of the war and goblin rebellion, which had been quiet in recent months, took a new turn. The students of Hogwarts Vocational School of Witchcraft and Wizardry returned to the school's walls in the first week of January - but as temporarily approved headmistress Minerva McGonagall and some concerned parents reported to the Ministry's Oversight Committee, not all students returned. Exactly four little witches and wizards disappeared in such a mysterious and inexplicable way that their parents are quite sure they saw their child get on the Hogwarts Express - but they never got off it in Hogwarts.

According to the spokesperson of the Ministry, radical participants of the goblin rebellion may be behind the events, who want to extort the wealth of wealthy wizard families through kidnappings.

Headmistress McGonagall described this as a ridiculous, trumped-up accusation, and explained that two of the four missing were magical students of Muggle origin, and one was a young half-vampire, who had nothing to do with the wealth of wizarding families.

The Ministry only responded to the headmistress's words that the Hogwarts Vocational College can expect a strict review similar to the one two years ago, if it continues to allow the admission of half-vampires, half-goblins, werewolves and half-giants. According to the spokesman, these half-breeds are related to unpredictable and dangerous creatures, with whom the Ministry of Magic is currently at war.

The headmistress, who continues the questionable school management methods of her predecessor, Albus Dumbledore - and although Dumbledore has been proven right about the return of He Who Must Not Be Named - should make a statement with the current, real danger (the goblin and giant war) in mind.

As Minister for Magic Rufus Scrimgeur said at a press conference yesterday morning, in the current situation, the activities of He Who Shall Not Be Named are dwarfed by the threat of goblins and giants.

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· What?! Harry grunted after spitting his cocoa on the Breakfast Prophet in surprise.

· Read on! Hermione urged.

In Scrimgeur's opinion, Tudjukki has specific and known plans that he wants to implement, but these do not include child abduction and blackmail - while the goblins' rebellion on the first of November last year at the Magic Transportation Station clearly proves their plans.

In addition to the kidnapping of the four mage students, the disappearance of an employee of the Auror Command was also revealed. According to the press spokesperson, Auror Sub-Commander Marcus Leonard has not been heard from since his appearance at the Ministry's usual New Year's reception on the 31st of December. According to information, Mr Leonard…

· Leonard? He was there at Uncle Vernon's! Harry huffed. "He went there because of me, he spied on me on Scrimgeur's orders… oh my goodness!"

Hermione nodded darkly, Ron and Paulina didn't say a word, they watched in silence. Mrs. Weasley was primarily preoccupied with Harry's health, and Harry almost didn't notice that while she was waving her hand, she was patiently trying to change his bandage.

"I think the picture is starting to come together," said Harry, and he watched in unison as Mrs. Weasley unwound the blood- stained gauze pad from her hand. "On Scrimgeur's orders, one of his aurors lilimented me while I was sleeping..."

Ron notices this, so they drug him and put him in the tub…

Ron's eyebrows rose dramatically as he listened to Harry's theory. Meanwhile, Mrs Weasley sprinkled a strange, yellowish powder on Harry's burnt palms, and Paulina covered her eyes so she couldn't see.

· Your memories were erased, that's why you didn't remember anything... The auror - maybe this Leonard - somehow got into the house. Maybe you've also idolized McGonagall or…

"No Harry, you're wrong," Hermione interjected. – The house is protected by the Fidelius charm, and the owner of the secret can only give it out voluntarily. You can't force him to tell you with Legilimency or Veritaserum either.

Harry frowned, he thought.

· They could have coerced someone from the Order… perhaps with an Imperius Curse.

"Do you think it would be worth that much to Scrimgeur to know what's on your mind?" Hermione doubted.

· Why not? Harry objected. "If he's working for Voldemort… OUCH!"

Mrs. Weasley squealed and dropped the vial of medicinal powder, the scissors that were going to cut the end of the gauze roll spectacularly running into Harry's hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear…" Mrs Weasley mumbled and pulled the tip of the scissors out of Harry's hand, stopping the bleeding with her wand.

"It doesn't matter to him anyway..." Harry let it go and clenched his teeth. Hermione shook her head.

"It's impossible for V… to be her man," he declared. "No way..."

"Come on, Hermione, didn't you hear what he said about him?" said Ron, who had been quietly observing the conversation until now. "They want to draw people's attention to the goblins so that the Death Eaters can hatch their plans!"

Why do you think they haven't caught a single one since June?

Hermione shrugged, but her face showed that she was no longer so sure about what she was doing.

· The minister wants us well, Ron! Mrs Weasley said as she finished bandaging Harry's hand.

· You're only saying this because he promoted father! snapped Ron.

"I've known Rufus Scrimgeur for a long time, and he hates dark magic," Mrs. Weasley continued. - How about teaming up with Tudodki...! This is simply ridiculous. I'm sorry, Harry dear, but I think you're wrong now…

However, Harry's thoughts were elsewhere. He read the beginning of the article again, and the disappearance of the children hit him hard. He was certain that four students were not taken on Ampó's order. Ampók is more prepared than to try such a cheap trick. But if it wasn't him, then who? Of course, Voldemort was on his mind, and his distorted nightmares of some kind of horrible magic that required four children to be sacrificed with a silver knife on a full moon, or some such bizarre operation...

Harry pushed those thoughts away and jumped up from his chair. He wanted to go to his room and called his friends to ask them about the dress - but then thundering footsteps were heard from the hall, and the next moment Mordon entered, followed by Lupin.

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· Did you finally wake up? Mordon snapped instead of greeting, and Lupine hurried over to Harry to ask how

by.

"I'm great," Harry lied. "We could continue studying this afternoon," he looked towards Mordon as a sign, because somehow he felt very ready for action.

"Maybe we shouldn't…" Molly began, but Harry convinced her otherwise with a confident smile. "Good as you think."

Most of the morning was spent in the usual living room, where Mordon sat comfortably in a chair and gave his advice and instructions to the three good friends about the charm called Metamorphus. Following Aunt Muriel's plan, they dealt with emotion-based spells, and the first of these in line was Metamorphus. Harry's thoughts wandered, so he didn't perform as prominently as the Auror would have expected him to - however, he still far surpassed Ron and Hermione in transfiguration- corruption practice.

His mind was mostly on what he had read in the newspaper, he tried to combine this with his imagination, and what kind of secrets the person knew - Snape or Leonard - and most of all: did these secrets reach Voldemort's ears?

He couldn't even hope for an answer, he didn't know anything specific, he could only guess. But even that was better than waving it all off and letting things settle around him.

It was towards noon when Harry was so advanced in his new magic and in concocting new and newer theories that he was practically not paying attention to what he was doing. His amusement was so overpowering that he realized he was still in his pajamas, robe and slippers.

Mordon ended the practice.

· You go. "Molly needs some help," the old man turned to Ron and Hermione.

· But well... - Ron already opened his mouth to ask, how does Mordon understand that Mrs. Weasley needs to help in anything, if she was here with them the whole time, but the auror didn't give her time to ask questions.

· Come on! the auror snapped at them, causing Hermione to flinch. Ron nodded and they resignedly left.

Harry looked hesitantly at Mordon, he had no idea why he had sent his friends out. Mordon also just stood for a while, his magical and normal eyes scanning Harry. Harry could tell from the twitching of his scarred face that the old man was chewing on something. He was about to get Mordon to speak when he sighed in a hoarse voice and went to the door. She closed it, then hurried back to Harry and grabbed his shoulder. Harry was now certain that something was wrong with the old man.

"Potter, listen…"

"Harry," Mordon corrected.

· All right, damn it! the auror growled. "Listen to me… We both know what you're going to have to do, don't we?"

Mordon waited, and Harry blinked and stared into the steel blue eyeball, which was spinning nervously.

· I know what you will think of me now, but I want to protect your life with it - continued Rémszem. "Don't think that I'm happy to do it - or that I'm happy to make you do this, and I would never teach you under other circumstances, but..."

· What are you referring to? Harry frowned.

Mordon huffed nervously and squeezed Harry's shoulder even tighter.

· What-what?! To the killing curse. What you can use to survive all this.

Harry thought he heard badly. Alastor Mordon wants to teach him the Adava Kedavra Curse? "No," Harry stated, shaking his head in protest. "No…never…"

· Stop being silly, son! snapped Mordon. "I know what you think about that, and I agree with you, but what else would you use to defeat Tudjukki?" This is the only curse against which there is no defense, you know!

Harry tore himself from Mordon's grip and looked at the auror with a horrified look for a moment. They want to make him a murderer! the thought rumbled through Harry's head. He started for the door, but his hand stopped on the doorknob and froze. Mordon knew it would be like this because he didn't say anything after, he didn't want to stop him - he knew Harry would make himself stay.

He just looked at the hand holding the doorknob. It was as if the door in front of him was the choice itself. Either he leaves the room and forgets that Mordon's words were even spoken here, as his heart dictated, or he turns back and learns the spell that killed his father, mother, Cedric, Dumbledore, but maybe helps him survive.

"Harry, I taught you not to kill," said Mordon. "I just want you to survive." I trust your judgment enough to only use this curse if your life depends on it.

That worked. The words echoed in Harry's mind: Mordon trusts his judgement. Harry rarely got that, since they didn't even listen to him when he suspected Malfoy and Snape of the assassinations, or when he said that he trusted the Magpies more than the Ministry.

Harry let go of the doorknob, turned and nodded quickly. Mordon didn't smile, didn't sigh in relief - his face reflected tension.

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"Right," he said. "No one needs to hear this, Harry." Keep it between us, okay?

"Sure," Harry agreed and went back to the middle of the hall. "Then… how do you kill someone?" Harry asked the question like that on purpose, although he didn't know why. Perhaps to make him and Mordon feel how impossible this situation is, and to never forget why he decided to let go of the handle.

· Let's practice with the usual apple... - suggested Mordon and placed one on the floor, a few meters away from them. "First, just point the wand at it and say the spell." The emphasis is on "davrá"...

"I know," Harry interrupted the auror and pulled out his wand.

He pointed at the apple and wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. This won't work like this... - the thought flashed through Harry's mind, as if his instincts told him. He shuddered at that, but his revulsion was interrupted by another voice, an old memory, "You've never used a main entrance curse before, have you? They must be taken seriously, Potter!"

Bellatrix Lestrange yelled this at him in the Ministry atrium… Do you want to take Bellatrix's advice instead of Mordon's? shouted another voice in his head that reminded him of Hermione. Do what Remszem said!

· Adava Kedavra!

The tip of Harry's wand glowed green, followed by a blinding flash, and at the same time a loud bang shook the living room. But the deadly beam didn't fall out, the curse wasn't complete.

"Yeah, you said it right," Mordon rumbled. "You should know that the main entrance curses are all emotion-based spells, so…"

· I have to take them seriously, right? Harry interrupted again.

Mordon didn't show that he resented this, he just nodded. If Harry hadn't been pushed one after the other by the distorted nightmares in which he saw himself with red eyes and a black hood, he would have even found it interesting the changes taking place on the auror's scarred face and the constant tearing, with which he wants to convince himself that he is doing the right thing.

At the same time, Harry also needed serious self-control to push his nightmares back into the ridiculous thoughts and to say Mordon's words to himself - I trust your judgment.

· Then I'll try again, okay? Harry asked.

· All right. Try to imagine You Know Who, Mordon suggested. – The method is the same as for the patron charm. You have to focus on the feeling, on what you feel for him.

Harry shook his head and sighed heavily. Father, what comes after this? he asked himself, then focused on the moment when Voldemort reincarnated in the cemetery and when an innocent boy, Cedric, lost his life. Disgust flooded Harry's heart and it also showed on his face. If he saw himself in a mirror right now, he would not like the sight. Mordon was paying attention to the apple, not Harry – perhaps for the same reason.

· Adava Kedavra!

The wand gave off a greenish light again, and the deadly ray immediately started its way with a rumble. It reached the apple, and in a single moment it jumped up into the air and broke into pieces.

Harry silently observed the result of his curse, trying not to think about himself. He glanced at Mordon, who was standing next to him, leaning on his staff. His blue eyes darted around.

· Are you satisfied? Harry asked, trying to keep all emotion out of his voice. "No one has ever been able to do this spell the first time," the auror noted.

"Well, my situation doesn't quite fit into the normal category," Harry answered, looking away from the old man's face. He put the wand away and cleared his throat. "Um…why did the apple burst?" I thought Adava Kedavra would leave no trace.

· Yes, that's right - Mordon hastened to answer. "However, it reacts differently to objects than to living beings..."

· An apple is a living thing.

Mordon smiled. For the first time since he sent Ron and Hermione out.

· By living being I mean that it is still alive. A plucked apple no longer grows…

· May I know what they did? - came a quiet, cold voice from the door.

Harry and Mordon turned their heads at the same time and saw Lupin looking at them with his hands in his pockets. Harry had never seen her face so grim.

"I thought we agreed that we wouldn't teach them such a thing, Remszem," he said and came inside.

Mordon was unfazed, still leaning calmly on his staff, but Harry turned white. - I remember that you stated this, and I did not agree with you at all, which I brought to your attention - cracked the auror.

Lupine came even closer, never taking his eyes off Mordon, and for the first time Harry noticed anger in the man's eyes. His eyes were scary.

"So you didn't agree with me…" Lupin repeated quietly. "Tell me, Scary Eye, do you still remember James at all, or am I the only one who remembers my dead friends?"

Mordon didn't answer, just raised his intact eyebrow. Lupine continued:

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· Maybe you still remember how much James objected when Barty Kupor authorized you to use the entrance curse. He said - I remember well - that the Ministry had thus sunk to Voldemort's level.

Barty was our Voldemort and you became his Death Eaters! he growled angrily. His voice was still quiet, but it lacked its usual calmness. Harry could almost see the wolfish look burning behind his blue eyes.

"Lupin..." Mordon began. "You also know that Harry has the power of the Knower." Like it or not, his strengths are that he…

· No! Lupine stated. "How can you say that?" Don't you remember what Dumbledore said?

"But I remember," snapped the auror. "And I also remember that he fell a hundred meters from the Astronomy Tower!"

Lupine remained silent now, but he wasn't about to explain himself as Mordon had. Harry almost expected them to be yelling at each other, even pulling wands - but instead, Lupine spoke to Harry in his usual, calm voice.

· Please get out of here, Harry. I'm still talking to Mordon. "Don't do anything..." he warned them hesitantly.

· Calm down, son, we're not going to curse or anything! Mordon waved.

Harry wasn't so sure, but Lupin, miraculously regaining his composure, nodded. Harry then accepted his word and left the drawing room without a word, not forgetting to close the door behind him.

He went downstairs, but before he could think of a way to explain the multiple rumblings, Ron and Hermione rushed up to meet him.

· What happened? asked Ron.

· Well… uh…

· He wanted to show the killing curse, right?

Harry was no longer surprised that she had made up what had happened. However, Ron's eyes widened in shock. Harry quickly nodded and motioned for them to get out of here. To avoid the drawing room and the possible noises from Lupine and Mordon's quarrel, they went up the spiral staircase two floors and locked themselves in one of the rooms.

· Let's leave it all! Harry said angrily. He didn't want to think about the curse that killed his parents five minutes ago. "Tell me what happened to the dress!" Was it a Horcrux or not?

"No, Harry," Hermione replied sadly. "Sorry, but it was just an ordinary robe." "Damn…" Harry grumbled. "Why can't everything go smoothly?"

Ron and Hermione remained silent and watched Harry, who resumed his old habit of pacing up and down the room, fuming silently.

"About that Leonard…" Hermione began after making sure Harry was occupied with cursing. "I thought maybe he was under the Imperius Curse."

Harry and Ron raised their heads.

"And…" she continued, "perhaps Voldemort was controlling him and that's why he wanted to know things about you… After all, Voldemort

might be interested in what kind of person you are." He wants to get to know you better when he no longer has access to the prediction. "Er…

maybe," Harry muttered, secretly agreeing with Hermione. His version was more believable than his own twisted conspiracy theories about Scrimgeur.

· But the first time... when I was legitimized in my dream?

· Are you sure it was the Legilimency?

"No, I'm not sure of anything..." Harry sighed. "But if Scrimgeur has a man within the Order . . ."

"You're a bit like the Minister, you know," Hermione remarked. "Oh, don't be mad… please listen to me," he added when he saw the look on Harry's face. "I meant that you also like to blame Scrimgeur and his aurors for everything, and you tend to... forget about Voldemort..."

· I forgot about it! Harry raised his voice. Ron looked at her as if she had been hit.

· How can you forget about someone whose goal is to cut you off? Ron asked the logical question. Hermione huffed impatiently and plopped down on one of the beds.

· First of all, Ron... Voldemort doesn't intend to kill Harry, it's just part of his plans...

· Isn't that the same?

Hermione didn't even dare him to answer.

· Second: Scrimgeur has his own problems. If he wants to deal with goblins, let him. You should do something else, and not keep saying that the minister should be liquidated, let's fight together with Ampó!

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"I never said that," Harry spread his arms. "And anyway... What do you think I should do then?" We keep hitting dead ends, we've gotten nowhere with this damn dress!

Hermione put on a very serious face as she looked into Harry's eyes. "You should do as Professor Dumbledore suggested," he said quietly.

· Well... that's what we do! Let's look for Horcruxes where we can! Ron answered for Harry. "We should go find Snape," Hermione opined as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Harry thought he heard badly. He stopped walking and sat down on one of the beds. "Then how do we end up like Dumbledore?" he hissed angrily.

Hermione's eyes didn't waver. He exuded the same confidence as Dumbledore.

· We won't end it like that, he said. "You know there are two options." If Snape works for Voldemort, then he told him all about the Horcruxes, and then Voldemort let him in on everything. Therefore, he knows everything and could tell us a lot. For example, what is the fourth horcrux…

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. They were both thinking the same thing, and in their mind's eye they could already see how, pointing a wand at Snape, he was dousing him with Veritaserum.

Hermione continued,

"The other possibility is that Snape is still on our side, and then he can help us find the Horcruxes." If he really did send you the letter, then that proves it.

· But with what? Harry snapped nervously. He hated it when they gave examples that at first glance were mean attacks, and then explained all kinds of impossible things.

· Think now! Hermione told him. "You said that Voldemort could access your mind in other ways, he doesn't need Snape..."

· But yes, because Voldemort is now Occlumency...

· Interestingly, he came forward two months ago, without any fear, - remarked Hermione. "Harry, if Voldemort is really interested in you, he will take care of it himself."

· Why? Ron asked doubtfully.

· Of course, because you know a lot about it. The ones that the Death Eaters don't either. If he entrusts one of his people, and he betrays, or is caught by the Aurors, and spills his secrets...

"Okay, okay, I see," Harry said. "But still… how the hell would we find Snape?"

There was a knock on the door then, but Harry could still see the bewilderment on her face because of her question, and from that he knew his answer.

"You're free," Hermione said.

Lupine entered the room with no sign of a potential duel on his face as Harry had hoped. An internal split in the Order would not have helped their cause.

· Hello, the man greeted gloomily.

"Mr Lupin, I don't want to use that curse..." Harry began, but Lupine motioned for silence.

· You don't have to explain. Mordon's arguments are very convincing and I don't blame you. He came inside the room and closed the door behind him.

· But - he continued - I think you also know that you wouldn't get anywhere with that curse. Defeating Voldemort in a duel... I don't know... - Lupin shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Harry stared ahead and thought about what he would do if Voldemort appeared here now. Would you stop dueling him, knowing he had no chance? Maybe he'd just try to block their wands again like he did in the graveyard - but what would that do? It would only buy time. "Your father was the best duelist I ever met," Lupin said

as if seeing into his head. "He didn't use dark magic, but he knew curses that he and Sirius had invented... His reflexes were faster than Dumbledore's, he could jump faster than anyone else... And yet Voldemort defeated him."

Even though he was one of the best duelists, he couldn't beat someone who fights completely differently in a duel... "I see..." Harry muttered softly.

· Adava Kedavra is useful if your enemy is an ordinary wizard. But against Voldemort you wouldn't do anything with it.

"I know, I just… I don't know what I was thinking," Harry admitted. "Mordon said it would help me survive a fight against him." How else could I end it?

· There are many ways to destroy someone, and by that I don't just mean murder. That's their way, Harry, I've talked about it before. Find your own strength and use it! Lupin suggested, a faint smile finally appearing on his face.

Harry remembered the book he had been given by Aunt Muriel, but he hadn't looked at it since his patron had disappeared.

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· Will there be any problems with Mordon? Harry asked.

· No, of course... - the man waved. "He said that we can't bury our heads in the sand, there's a war in which people are killed... and he's right." But let the killing be our business. You don't have to either...

You have a different business and it is more important than ours. And you don't have to kill for that," Lupin shook his head. "Whatever a bleak prophecy says..." "I see," Harry sighed, and

Lupine was about to go to the door, but his hand stopped on the doorknob and he turned back.

"Harry," she said. - There's something else...

Harry looked at him expectantly.

· Call Remus. Let's leave this Mr Lupin... And you too,' he added, turning to Ron and Hermione.

"Alright... Remus," Harry smiled and somehow it meant a lot more to him than when Mordon suggested the teasing. And with that, he vowed to

himself that he wouldn't disappoint her. After Ron and Harry said good night to Lupin and Hermione - as it turned out it was the girl's room they entered - Harry decided to himself that he would properly learn Shadow magic, the science of summoning. What he has the talent for because of his birth, not because he inherited it from Voldemort. And at the same time, he also decided that he would take seriously the advice not to use the main curses, because he does not have the determination to do so - he would listen to Lupin... and Snape.

That night, Harry was jolted awake from his sleep by someone shaking his shoulder.

· Harry, Ron, wake up already! Hermione tried to whisper as she impatiently woke up her friends.

· What... what's up again? Harry muttered half asleep and Ron growled in protest.

· What would it be? We have to go! Aunt Muriel woke me up first, we're going to the Ministry. The dream escaped Harry's mind in a minute, and Ron opened his eyes as well.

· Now? But... Harry stammered.

· Yes now! Hermione snapped at him and hissed to silence their amazement. "According to Aunt Muriel, it can't be any other time." The time he had planned turned out to be no longer good. Scrimgeur got me…

That was all he said and stormed out of the room.

Harry and Ron looked at each other in shock, then jumped out of bed at the same time as if from a gunshot and started to get dressed, with such haste that Harry first put on his jeans inside out, and Ron cut himself while pulling on his socks. Mrs Weasley grunted sleepily beneath them. "Careful," Harry warned.

They managed to get dressed without another fuss and sneak downstairs, where Hermione and Aunt Muriel were waiting patiently – although Hermione was biting her nails. Harry wasn't surprised at her nervousness. He himself was uneasy now that he was going back to the Department of Mysteries, the place where he had lost his godfather. He tried not to think about it and just focus on meeting his grandmother. However, deep down, he had a feeling that the meeting would not be exactly what he wanted it to be. What kind of meeting do you even want? Harry was completely confused by the thought. He was already sure that it would be the most bizarre thing that had happened to him in his life.

He hadn't seen Aunt Muriel since the letter arrived, and he was a little surprised to see her.

· Are you better Harry? asked the aunt, looking at Harry's hand.

While getting ready, Harry pulled on a pair of black gloves that he had prepared for himself earlier. He didn't intend to show his burned palm or the bandage to others. He kept the harsh reality to himself.

"Thanks, I'll be fine," Harry replied.

· Are we really going to the Mystery Case now? Ron asked his aunt after putting on his shoes and coat.

Harry also pulled on his invisibility boots, put on a black coat and scarf, folded the invisibility cloak into his pocket, and was ready.

· We're leaving now, come around me! Aunt Muriel instructed them, showing a torn hat. "Grab the wrench!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione grabbed the brim of the headgear, and the next moment they were running. At the end of the crazy-paced rotation, they arrived at their destination, wobbly but on their feet.

Harry looked around and was a little surprised to realize that they had practically arrived at their destination straight away. He, Ron, Hermione and Aunt Muriel were standing in front of the plain black door leading to the Department of Mysteries and Mysteries.

Aunt Muriel put her hat away and without hesitation opened the door, which the three good friends knew led to the strange Round Hall, where the entrances to the subdivisions opened. The old woman entered the place and held the door open for the Harrys. Harry entered first, followed by his friends. Aunt Muriel let go of the door, it slammed shut, and the ominous black room, lit by blue candles, spun, just as the Harrys had expected.

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· You already know this place, I guess? asked the aunt after the rotation stopped. Harry and Ron nodded.

· How do we know which door is needed? Hermione asked, looking at the dozen or so doors. - When we were looking for the Hall of Prophecies, we had to try everything...

"There are hidden hints on them, Hermione," explained the aunt. "Just touch the surface of one of the doors!" he said with a smile.

Hermione casually walked up to one of them and put her hand on it. He stood speechless and concentrated for a few moments, then walked away from the door with a frown.

"Strange..." she whispered. "It's like... like there's knowledge inside... Whoops!" Why did I say that?! Aunt Muriel smiled widely.

· Then that's the Hall of Knowledge - the aunt nodded. "The door will tell you what's behind it." I invented this, he announced proudly.

Hermione gave a faint smile out of politeness, but Ron and Harry couldn't fully admire the magic of the place because of the horrors they had experienced here.

· Which room are we looking for? Harry asked. "The Hall of Souls, Harry," replied the aunt.

Ron and Harry shared a look.

· Just not the one with the arch? Ron looked around as if he was looking for that horrible room with his eyes.

· No - the aunt shook her head. "That… well, that's the Hall of Death," answered the aunt and looked at Harry with a timid look. He knew that the boy had lost his godfather there.

Harry tried not to think about it, instead he thought of the other rooms they had been in, but none of them fit the term soul. That left nothing but…

· You're talking about the Closed Room, aren't you, Aunt Muriel?

· Yes, about that. Let's see which one it is... - whispered the aunt and gestured towards the candles with her long wand.

Their cold, bluish light turned into a yellowish, Sun-colored light that illuminated the room. Harry and his friends caught their hands in front of their eyes at the sudden change, but as they got used to the new conditions, they were shocked to notice that all the doors were decorated with inscriptions. Notes scrawled in the same hasty, sloppy handwriting as on the mirrors in Aunt Muriel's study.

The inscriptions indicated with noble simplicity which room was behind the door: Room of Stars, Room of Death, Room of Life, Room of Knowledge, Room of Time - Room of Prophecies, Room of Demons... and so on. Finally, Harry noticed the Hall of Souls sign on one of the doors and immediately started towards it.

· We tried to open the Locked Room when we were looking for the watch room - explained Ron.

· Time Produces...

· Yes, that. But the door never opened. Not with magic, not with Sirius's knife.

"That's because it's not even a door," replied Aunt Muriel. "I changed it to a safer passage when I closed the room."

He waved his wand again and the door simply disappeared. Harry thought there were people standing behind the open door - but then he realized he was seeing himself. A man-sized mirror appeared in place of the door. - Ah, a mirror world!

Hermione recognized the mystery. - That's right - the aunt smiled. "Speculum Aperitif!"

As a result of the spell, the mirror also disappeared, and a dark room appeared behind it. Harry, Ron and Hermione curiously stepped closer, but did not dare to go in - they were waiting for what the aunt would say. In the room they saw tall glass tanks that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and thick wires on the ceiling that started from the tanks and ran towards the far end of the room.

· Is this the Hall of Souls? Harry asked in a strange voice. He was expecting all sorts of incredible things, but he would never have dreamed of tanks and pipes.

· Yes and no - answered Aunt Muriel mysteriously. "The one we're going to is the next room that opens from here."

· Is Rose there? Is my grandmother there? Harry asked in disbelief.

· Yes, the aunt nodded. – I worked in this room while I was an employee of the Department. You know, I had personal reasons for taking up this profession, and that reason must be the Dementors…

Hermione and Harry made shocked faces, but Ron frowned and made a thoughtful face. He's already heard about it.

· At... school, you know, there was a boy... - said the aunt. "We were very good friends, and after a while we weren't just friends." We planned to get married after Hogwarts. But it didn't turn out that way. Nathaniel, as the boy was called, was suspected of an atrocity… accused of killing his father, who worked at a dragon sanctuary in Wales. He was accused of feeding his father to the dragons, his own father! Nathaniel would never have done such a thing... Alas, why should I bore you with my own tragedy?

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"You don't bore us, Aunt Muriel," Hermione shook her head.

· You're nice, but that's all irrelevant. All that matters is that Nathaniel was convicted and received the most severe punishment: a dementor kiss... "My God," whispered

Hermione, shuddering.

· Yes, it was horrible - the aunt let him. "In vain I protested, in vain I repeatedly asked for a review... The sentence was carried out - Aunt Muriel sniffed a line and wiped her eyes with her rose-patterned handkerchief. - Needless to say, seven months later it turned out that the murder was committed by his father's old colleague.

Well, that was the reason I built this subdivision in place of the old junkyard. I was trying to figure out how dementors work. I hid my wishful thinking that I could somehow bring Nathaniel back... But dreams come true only in the rarest of cases. You will see the result soon. Come after me…

With that, he stepped through the mirror into the Closed Room. And Harry, Ron and Hermione followed in wordless excitement, all three wondering what kind of miracle - or worse - what kind of horror awaited them. And most of all, what could be that which Dumbledore said was "more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human reason, than the forces of nature, and more mysterious than all other mysteries and mysteries"?

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Chapter

21 The Quest for Immortality

The place was dim, and after the light from the enchanted candles of the Round Hall, Harry's eyes had to adjust to the darkness again. He immediately spotted the containers full of yellow-green liquid, and then slowly the other details as well. The floor, whose blue stone slabs were decorated with tiny golden stars; the ceiling, on the rough stone covering of which arm-thick wires were suspended by hooks and clamps; the large, double-winged oak door opposite them, which, unlike the other typical entrances of the Department, was not pitch black, but a pleasant brown; and finally, when Harry and his friends had made themselves known in the semi-darkness, they could also take a closer look at the containers.

· We would be here... - said Aunt Muriel, who was pacing around the room single-mindedly. He always hung his trash on one of the containers.

It was only then that Harry noticed that there was something in each of them… a darkly outlined, large something. He moved closer to one of them and was about an arm's length from the wall of the tank when he realized that there was a man in the yellowish liquid.

· What is this place? Harry forced the question out of himself. His mind went numb at the sight.

"Here we were trying to find out what happens to the soul when a dementor kisses someone," replied Aunt Muriel in an indifferent voice.

· Are these… are these Dementors? Hermione stepped next to Harry.

· Yes - came the answer from the darkness.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared spellbound at the mule-skinned creature with grey-white skin. The dementors did not have black cloaks on them

· only their mouths could be seen underneath, sometimes they were naked. His skinny upp-,er body was as if the skin had simply been pulled over the bare bones. There was no sign of muscles or anything else, it seemed unbelievable that this seemingly weak creature could exert such tremendous strength.

His body was missing from the waist down, his white spine hanging out below his belly, so he was floating in the liquid. The eyes on his head had completely disappeared, gray skin had grown over them, and the nose had also begun to disappear. On the other hand, his mouth was slightly open, and it showed that the edge of the lip was further cracked so that the dementor could open it even wider when he reached for his final weapon. He appeared

to be either unconscious or dead – though neither Harry nor his two friends could tell if there was any kind of life or death involved with these monks. The sight was gruesome and disgusting as can be, but Harry stared at the helpless dementor with interest rather than horror. Upon seeing Harry, a kind of mysterious serenity took hold of him, but he soon found an explanation for the reason. Seeing these terrible creatures like this – lame, helpless, vulnerable – felt as if his greatest fear, shown to him by a mummy years ago, had drifted away and left him. He wasn't afraid of this dementor now, in fact, he was glad to see him like that.

A slight smile crossed Harry's lips and he turned back to Aunt Muriel.

· How did you do it? he asked. "How did you lock them in?"

Aunt Muriel clasped her hands behind her back and came closer, watching the container.

· We lured them into the tanks with the patron charm - he explained. – This could have been done with several patrons.

I can't say it's easy, and it's worth trying only one at a time, because if there are already two, they'll break out and run away. - And the liquid? Hermione looked up into her aunt's face.

"What's that for?"

· That's the point of it all - answered Aunt Muriel. "We locked them up to somehow try to bring back the souls they absorbed." This liquid is extremely special and we can no longer create a liter of it because its basic ingredient has been destroyed.

Harry, Ron and Hermione listened to their aunt's words with interest.

· We extracted the elixir of life from the Philosopher's Stone, which we then mixed with mandrake oil and some other potions. He ran six tanks of it, but fortunately the liquid is not used up. Once you've captured a dementor and locked it in the container, the potion—me and my staff just called it "anti-dementing potion"—slowly coaxes it into regurgitating the swallowed souls. Also, what was left of them... - sighed the aunt.

Ron tapped on the glass, but the dementor didn't move, didn't react.

"It's already dead, Ron," the aunt clarified. "He breathed his last - literally." Those other two... - he pointed to the tanks at the far end of the room and the creatures swimming in them - but they are still quite lively. I recently captured them with the help of Alastor. They can be very old, maybe even a thousand years old, because sometimes they expel a soul every hour... Whoops! Just look!

The dementor locked in said tank shook as if cold, its head bent back, and a tiny star playing in a bluish light emerged from its wide gaping mouth – a soul.

"Wow…that really works," Hermione marveled.

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"Of course it works," snapped the old woman. "What did you think, it wouldn't work after twenty years of work?"

Hermione shot an apologetic look at Aunt Muriel. She was sensitively affected by this topic, the fight against dementors could have been her life's work.

Harry watched the starfish swim up the tank towards the ceiling before disappearing into the darkness.

Frowning, he turned to Aunt Muriel.

· Where do the souls go? he asked. "To the afterlife?" Or do they go through the arch? The old woman shook her head and sighed sadly before answering.

· No, Harry. They are not going anywhere... First of all, you must understand that these are not souls or spirits in the strict sense of the word. They were torn from their bodies, and not without injury. You know, souls can be hurt, they can be torn apart, just like the body. These are horrible things…

Harry and his two friends listened. They knew very well what kind of atrocities can be done with the human soul.

· Death is a natural thing, a normal ending of life, in which there is nothing terrible - continued Aunt Muriel. "When a person dies, their soul goes out and leaves." You can choose to move on into the unknown or stay here to see what the world will become… they will become the ghosts. But what the Dementors do…

Dementors feed on pleasant feelings, happiness, and serenity. If a person's soul is drained, the soul is irreparably damaged. Happiness, serenity, peace, good memories go into the dementor, and everything else fades away. I didn't know this either until I started my experiments. Nothing remains in the body. The soul cannot be brought back... But we can save these positive feelings... We must save them...

Aunt Muriel stared at the dementor tanks as if she saw the meaning of life in them. He touched the container with his hand, the one from which the soul-remnant had just flown out.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood behind the aunt, and while she was explaining, they looked at each other several times. What was said here was as close to the problem of horcruxes as you can get.

· When this room was finished and we brought back the first one - continued Aunt Muriel - the Ministry's management at

the time expected reports from me. They supported my research, although I don't know exactly why. I'm sure they wouldn't have thought of getting rid of the dementor army… Maybe they were just curious to see how far I could go.

When I told them that people cannot be brought back to their old state, they wanted to stop the work here. They thought the Dementor Hall had reached its goal, it was time to give the place over to new research.

Of course, I didn't leave it at that... I called Bartemius Kuport here and showed him the few soul remains I had collected. I told him to look at them… look at them like nothing else in his little life before. Look into souls as you wish…" Aunt Muriel's voice trailed off. The Harrys listened to the report in silence.

"I think then you understood something about why I built this room," he said, and nodded his head profusely, as if he wanted to prove the statement to himself. – The next day I was promoted and I was given complete freedom in the Department of Mysteries. They expanded the Dementor Hall with another room like the Hall of Time at the time with the Hall of Prophecies... Then they realized the importance of what Cassandra Trelawney had done...

No one wanted to believe that they would pay attention to my work in the same way. My colleagues also left me with wooden pictures, but not Kupor. He understood... and I didn't explain it to him, he didn't listen to my words - but to theirs...

· he turned his head towards the double doors, and the Harrys immediately followed his example.

Aunt Muriel stepped away from the tank, and when she turned around, she tried to wipe her eyes unnoticed and blinked profusely.

There was no trace of the usual gaiety and joy of life on his face, instead he had a mournful look. He just looked at the three good friends for a full minute, looking at one and then the other, then cleared his throat and went to the oak door.

"Then, now I'll show you where the brought backs go," he said, and first he waited for Harry and his two friends to nod, before he pressed the doorknob.

The door opened, and a pleasant light from behind it filled the Dementor Hall. Aunt Muriel entered first, as she always did, followed by the Harrys.

The sight before their eyes was even more incredible than any room they had seen in the Department. But in contrast to the mystery, mysterious and sinister atmosphere of the other places, the Terme of Souls was wonderful. Harry, Ron and Hermione said this as soon as they managed to observe every detail of the room.

The blue, star-patterned floor covered the circular room surrounded by columns, in the center of which a huge, shiny glass sphere floated in the air. The light was emanating from the sphere, and inside…

· Is this… is this a galaxy? Hermione asked breathlessly.

Thousands of tiny stars flowed around in the sphere, around a common point. Wires were connected to the floating sphere from the ceiling of the place, leading here from the dementor tanks.

"You don't even know how close you are to the truth," replied Aunt Muriel, and she finally smiled again.

Now, just like the dementor tanks, he was looking at the orb spellbound, but his face was filled with admiration, not sadness. When Harry took his eyes off the fantastic glass globe, he looked at the aunt's face and wondered if the sudden changes in mood were just due to the old woman's sensitivity, or if the place was real.

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it has an effect on people. As he began to examine his own feelings, he had to realize that the Spa of Souls filled him with a pleasant feeling - unlike the sight of captured dementors. The cruel satisfaction with which he viewed the monsters gave way to peace. - I now understand how Kupor went about supporting you - said Ron after

a long silence. "This place... I don't know when I've been so calm..."

Aunt Muriel put her arm around Ron's shoulders and they continued to watch the circling souls. Harry turned to Hermione and saw the same admiration on her face as his friend and the old woman. All three were captivated by the sight.

And Harry's feelings began to change, at a rapid pace. In a single moment, peace was shattered, someone started throwing pebbles into the imaginary lake again, creating waves - and the questions came. Why isn't he so captivated by the sight? How is it that the others were able to get rid of all their problems in this place, and he could only get the confusing thoughts out of his head for barely a minute? And what is this sadness that starts to overwhelm him?

Harry hung his head, unable to look at the souls any longer. Beside him, Ron, Hermione, and Aunt Muriel continued to admire the orb without words.

Why don't they notice what's happening to me? snapped a selfish voice inside Harry. "Can't they see that this is all a big lie?" They are just fooling themselves, life is not like that!

Harry turned away angrily and took a deep breath. He reminded himself what he had come to when Percy returned… he reminded himself that his questions were unnecessary, his feelings were more important.

· Harry, what's wrong? - asked Aunt Muriel, when she noticed that the boy had turned away. Even Ron and Hermione could take their eyes off the orb at that. Reality shattered the illusion. "N-nothing..." Harry lied. "It's all right..."

"Don't lie," warned the aunt. "I know it makes you feel bad." Harry raised his head and looked the old woman in the eyes.

"I figured that at least one of you wouldn't find it as captivating as the others," continued the aunt. – It has a different effect on each person, and it certainly depends on the person. I don't even know... - he muttered as he examined Harry from behind his glasses and his scanning gaze always fell on the boy's forehead. –… maybe it could be the same reason as the borderline, right?

Harry opened his mouth to speak, then quickly closed it. Then he opened it again. Aunt Muriel gave him a significant look.

Then he finally decided that one more person deserved to know the truth.

"It could be because of Voldemort… maybe," Harry said. Ron and Hermione's eyes widened, but they didn't intervene. "I'm here now because of him... also because of him." Maybe my grandmother can take me to it.

· How? asked the aunt, but her voice was objective, not wondering or doubting.

Harry sighed and answered the question with a question, "Have you ever heard of Horcruxes?"

The aunt shook her head.

"Something like what Dementors do with a person's soul...soul dismemberment," Harry began, and in a nice line he told everything about Voldemort's actions. The old woman's initial curiosity gave way to shock, but she believed every word.

"Oh…" the aunt mumbled when Harry finished his report. "Then that explains things… Rosie's weird illness and… what happened to her."

· What happened to him? Hermione snapped at the subject. "How did you get here?" Is it even here among them? he pointed to the sphere.

· Yes, it's in there - answered Aunt Muriel. "He was the last one among them before I closed the room."

· Why did you even close it? Ron asked.

· Rosie asked me to… She didn't want Dumbledore to find out what happened to her… Apparently it was a big mistake. You said her necklace was like... -something?

Harry and his friends nodded.

"But I still don't understand exactly what this place is," said Harry, trying to look at the galaxy without emotion. However, this did not work for him. Sometimes peace and joy, sometimes sadness and contempt came upon him. "I mean they can't leave for the afterlife because they're injured, but what is this place anyway?" Why keep them here, why can't they go all over the world? And what is…

Aunt Muriel smiled and held up her hand, stopping Harry's questions. Harry remained silent and the aunt began to explain.

· If we let them out, if they were to roam freely in the world, they would soon be scattered, they would cease to exist, since they are weak in themselves. I locked them in this glass sphere - it's a mirror world that I've already shown you.

Here they are completely isolated from the influences of the outside world and can remain…

You can rightly ask what the meaning of this is - the aunt nodded. "I have to say, there's no use for that in itself." Although it has an effect on people as you have seen, the bottom line is that no human deserves to leave this world without a trace.

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"Not even Death Eaters like Barty Kupor?" Ron snapped angrily. "Should there be a trace of him too?"

Harry knew what Ron was getting at. To the Death Eater, the son of Mr. Kupor, who for a year, in the guise of Mordon Remszem, taught the Harrys how to ward off dark magic, and finally died in the stomach of a dementor.

"Ron..." said Hermione, but the boy ignored her.

His snarling expression showed that he no longer thought this orb was so wonderful, knowing that the souls of Death Eaters and other black mages flowed within it.

· Do you think only dark wizards and witches fell prey to dementors? Aunt Muriel asked back with her hands on her hips. She looked like the strict Mrs. Weasley, and seeing Ron immediately felt ashamed of his outburst. "Didn't I start by saying, before we came in here, that it was all started by the tragedy of an innocent man?"

· And... and how do you know which of them was a good person and which of them...?

· From nowhere! the aunt snapped at him angrily. "And I don't care!" No one deserves such an end Ron, no one in this world! Check this out! he pointed at the sphere with a trembling finger. "Just look at it the way that stupid Kupor does!" He understood the point of it all, why not you? You have a much better eye than he does.

Ron and Harry and Hermione took turns looking at the souls. They watched, but they didn't know what exactly the aunt was aiming at. It was in Harry's mind that it was nice to save souls, but... But he couldn't change his disdain for Death Eaters.

· Don't you understand? Aunt Muriel's voice sounded resigned. "Don't you understand what it means that something comes out of the dementor after each soul it absorbs?" A single small feeling, a tiny spark of goodness, but something always comes back from the soul, no matter how depraved the person was, no matter how many horrors he committed in his life. Goodness is in everyone, everyone has something that can make them more, that could make them more...

No one is born inherently evil, this place proves it! This is its essence, not that the remnants of the soul enclosed here, goodness and love captivate a person. It's just an illusion that will disappear as soon as you leave here. Goodness itself is locked up here… it was the only use, the only "good" side of the Dementors. They show that there is something in every person that they can suck out, that they can absorb, because everyone has or had good feelings. Even in You Know...

· Are you sure about this? Ron asked doubtfully. "Even in Voldemort…?" But you saw what it was like, he suddenly turned to Harry. "It wasn't better when I was young..."

· Yes, Harry answered firmly, and then he finally understood something. Voldemort really is proof that a person is born good, regardless of what he was like when he met Dumbledore. "It was a lot better than it is now, Ron." If there was anything he could lose in soul dismemberment, it was goodness, positive feelings…

"Dumbledore said he didn't understand love..." Hermione interrupted.

"Exactly," Harry nodded and looked at Aunt Muriel, whose face was once again cheerful, now that someone understood what she was talking about. "He doesn't grasp love because he threw it away." When he made the horcrux, he had to get rid of something. If his soul is damaged, as with a dementor body, something is lost. The soul will be less. The only difference is that Voldemort could choose what he parted with.

Harry happily acknowledged that his friends also understood the lesson of the orb, and he turned to the wonderful structure again. Now, like the first time, he was captivated by the sight, the moment he saw it. Then the serenity began to fade quickly, as emotions began to be pushed into the background by thoughts.

· So when the illusion of the sphere diminishes - Harry began with a dry mouth and turned away from the galaxy again - could that mean

that Voldemort's thoughts are pushing into my head? Does he not understand the essence of the place, that's why the doubting questions come?

Aunt Muriel shrugged.

"I don't know, Harry, I don't know how to do that," the old woman admitted, blushing. "I don't really know what kind of connection you have with Tudodki, but if a simple charm like the boundary line revived the connection between you, then it's very likely that this place does the same."

· Does your scar hurt now? Hermione asked worriedly and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

· No, everything is fine... - answered the boy. "That's why it's strange." If it does, I should scream in pain.

"Then maybe Tudjukki has nothing to do with it," said Aunt Muriel enigmatically. The three good friends looked at him with interest. "Harry may have grasped the essence of the place with his mind, but his emotions say otherwise." I said, it depends on your personality how the love flowing from elsewhere affects you.

Harry had already opened his mouth to bombard his aunt with questions, when Ron overtook him: - What did Dumbledore tell you about this place?

Harry thought for a moment before answering.

· He said that there is a power here that is more wonderful and at the same time more terrible than anything... "… Yes," interrupted Ron. "What does that mean, anyway?" What is terrible here?

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Aunt Muriel looked at them in surprise. Harry didn't know if it was because he was surprised that anything terrible was being assumed about this room, or because he was surprised that the Harrys didn't understand something about this place again.

Hermione also felt herself in those rare moments when she was full of uncertainty and questions.

· Horrible... Dumbledore put it interestingly... - muttered the aunt. "Isn't love terrible and wonderful at the same time?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at him in shock.

· Listen, love does not exist by itself - he continued. - Only one person can feel love for another or several others. What is in this sphere is the remnant of the soul. An integral part of the soul is the ability to show positive or negative emotions. In these, only the capacity for positive feelings is left, ordinarily we say goodness, love.

But it's just a skill. What do you think, how could the convicts do so many atrocities if they had this ability, this power? They didn't throw it away on their own, like Tudjukki... Man can't eradicate a piece of himself with his behavior, he can only bury it.

And if love is an ability in a person, a force, no matter how much of it a person has, if he doesn't use it, he can do terrible things. And if you use it, even more terrible ones.

· How? Harry groaned. His head was buzzing from the thought.

· If a person feels love for someone else, and that love is strong enough, it can make him do things that are horrible, concentrated evil - and yet what feeds him is love. There is such a thing, although fortunately it is more common when the person who loves is able to remain the master of his actions and is not consumed by love.

Do you see? There are two ways to get to the darkness. One is self-serving hatred that spills over into everyone else. This is Tudjukki and his Death Eater journey... It would also be an interesting question whether the most loyal Death Eaters love Tudjukki? Do they really, truly love him, or just his magic? What can you give them?

The other way to darkness is blind love. Unrelinquished love, which can certainly feed hatred towards everyone else... Jealousy, envy...

Harry had the strange feeling that Aunt Muriel was looking him in the eyes the whole time she was talking. By the time he thought this through, the aunt had already turned away and was staring at the sphere again, surrendering to the illusion.

Harry sighed deeply and - he didn't know why - avoiding Ron and Hermione's gaze, stepped next to the aunt. He felt that the time had come to find Rose Evans among the thousand bright points.

"Aunt Muriel…" Harry began. "She said Grandma Rose was here… How are we going to find her?" "Hold out your hand Harry," the aunt instructed kindly. "Touch the sphere."

Harry did so. As soon as he touched the orb, the feeling that the mere sight of it gave him immediately intensified. Peace, reassurance, the knowledge that he is not alone - and with that, the doubts that this is not complete also appeared even stronger. The sphere is just a lie, people are not like that, there is not only love and goodness, that is not enough...

But Harry suppressed those thoughts and feelings, focused on his task, and it worked. You must find Rose Evans!

"Call me Harry," said the aunt. "Call him and he will come." He is different from other soul remnants. Harry looked at his aunt.

· Rosie was not kissed by a dementor - the aunt explained. "I didn't know what was wrong with him, but he looked like a ghost... He is more than these bright "stars". He retained his true personality, his memories, his feelings - both good and bad.

Aunt Muriel tilted her head with a smile, but her smile was more sadness than joy. He looked like a man who has so many problems that they just show up.

Harry closed his eyes – he didn't know why, but his instincts told him to. If you turn off your traditional senses and listen only to your intuition, you will achieve more success.

Rose Evans… Rose Evans, where are you? Harry repeated to himself. He didn't know if he was doing it right, Aunt Muriel didn't give any more information, so Harry thought what he was doing was enough.

Rose Evans…

"Wow…" Hermione and Ron's surprised chorus roared behind him.

Harry opened his eyes and almost let go of the orb in fright. He didn't expect a face to look back from the convex glass. An image of a young, beautiful woman, her hair and face bathed in silvery light.

He looked at Harry with a frown, and recognition slowly dawned on his face.

· James…? he said echoing through the walls of the room.

Harry was so shocked that he forgot to even protest - but she was convinced that what she was seeing was James Potter.

· James, is that really you? I thought you were dead... - he said softly, and his voice took on a mournful sadness. Along with him, the light in the room began to dim, and the feeling of peace and tranquility gave way to mournful sorrow for a moment.

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· Rosie, it's been a while since I've seen you - Aunt Muriel said and swallowed a big one - maybe to clear the lump from her throat. Although this did not show on his face, he was calm and a little distant.

· Teee… - Rose Evans hissed - ... you said he was killed…! - That's how it happened...

· You're lying! the woman snapped. "You said they killed my little girl, that they killed James and little Harry..." the ghost complained with an otherworldly sadness that even Hysterical Myrtle would have envied. The light had dimmed so much that only the twinkling stars and the ghostly figure illuminated Harry's face.

"Do you understand what I'm talking about, Harry?" Aunt Muriel whispered into the boy's ear. "The darkness caused by love..." "I... I'm

not James," Harry recovered from the shock caused by the sight of his living and dead grandmother. She turned her beautiful head towards the ghost.

"I'm Harry..." he introduced himself awkwardly and took his hand off the orb when he realized that he had been holding it all this time.

Ron and Hermione didn't make a peep as they walked out – but Harry knew very well that his friends wouldn't leave the room for all the money in the world.

"Harry..." Rose whispered the word. "Harry?" … long since I last saw those eyes...

Well of course... of course it's you... your eyes, like mine and Lily's... It's been so

He reached out as if to touch the boy's face, but the wall of the sphere wouldn't let him. Harry responded by placing his hand where Rose had touched the glass.

"Then they're still dead..." came the sad voice. "I feel you are as lonely...as I am..."

Harry's mouth was dry, he couldn't get a single word out. Rose looked at Harry speechlessly for a few minutes, engrossed in the sight of her grandson, then her face darkened again as she turned to Aunt Muriel.

· I told you not to bring anyone here! he snapped at her. "I didn't want them to see me like that..." "I wouldn't have done it, Rose, if it wasn't vitally important," was the dry answer.

· Is it important?

"Yes, it is... very much," said Aunt Muriel, looking defiantly into the ghost's sparkling eyes. "I think we finally figured out why you can't get out of here."

Rose's eyes widened, she said nothing for a moment, then her expression immediately softened.

· Did it work? he asked. "Did you realize after all these years?" I gave up hope so long ago…

· I didn't figure it out, actually - answered the aunt. "But it's your grandson, and… the thing is, Dumbledore would have known the explanation too, if you weren't such a jerk that you didn't ask him for help."

The ghost looked like he had been slapped. You could see that he was used to the conversation and had a hard time following other people's questions. Maybe it was time, maybe it was something else, but there was a lot of emotion on his face. Harry was starting to get the hang of it, the mood swings, the darkness and the anger. Rose Evans, being a full personality with memories, both good and bad qualities, influenced the other personality remnants with her mere presence. Moreover, Harry also guessed what the common point was, around which the bright stars revolved.

· Don't talk to me like that! the ghost glared at the aunt. "You have no idea what I've been through!"

· The old note... - Aunt Muriel waved.

· Just don't shrug your shoulders! You don't understand as well as my father. I spared him and Lily by wanting to disappear!

They were the only ones who mattered to me... I didn't want to see their faces...

· But why? Harry interrupted now.

Rose suddenly looked towards him and was a little surprised. "Dumbledore has seen many horrors and healed them before..." The spirit again put on its majestic sadness.

· Oh, if you could have seen his face... When he tried to figure out why I was different, why my hair was falling out, why my eyes were red...

He wanted good and did good, but he hurt himself more than me... I didn't understand much of what he said to me, but his face made it clear…

He became so different then... I got to know what the mighty Dumbeldore was like before. His friends talked about him, and so did his eyes. The joie de vivre, the gaiety, the confidence, that was who he was - and it was all gone from him... I killed it, Harry... I made him realize how deep human evil is...

Harry looked at Aunt Muriel, but the old woman showed no signs of being emotionally affected by what Rose was saying. You've probably heard this many times before.

"Dumbledore would have been strong," continued Harry.

· Yes! He would have been strong, he was always strong... - snapped the ghost. - But it's one thing to be strong and another to be broken inside... Trust me Harry, he was weaker than you can imagine...

The light slowly returned to the room, although the atmosphere of sadness remained. If he was an outside observer, Harry would surely have suffered from the constant series of mood swings, but by focusing on the spirit, he was able to stay sane. It was this sanity that led him to look back at Ron and Hermione. His friends stood with their arms around each other and watched him. They were acting normal, but Hermione had tears in her eyes. "He wanted to spare you too..." Harry muttered. "He didn't tell himself that he

found out what Voldemort had done…"

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· Voldemort? Rose asked in a whisper. - Voldemort killed little Emily with me... He ruined your lives... He killed your mother... The anger in the spirit rekindled, and Harry now recognized

the rage fueled by love. After all, he himself knew very well how the loss of a loved one turned into a raging desire to kill.

Through the orb, the memory of the feeling glowed so clearly in Harry that he could almost hear his own garbled voice running screaming after Bellatrix Lestrange.

He pushed the memory away, his mind told him not to worry about it now - and if possible, never again.

You have to control yourself… your anger is a dangerous weapon.

"I know," Harry reassured. "I know… but Voldemort has done other terrible things." He enchanted this... this here, he explained, pulling out from his coat pocket the small necklace that hid a piece of Rose Evans' soul.

"My old necklace..." the ghost recalled.

"Yes," Harry replied, holding it out to Rose as if to hand it to her. But the ghost's silvery fingers only gripped the glass. "That's why he can't die." It kept him here on earth.

· But father... why is he...? Why didn't you smash it? Rose asked the question that Harry had already asked Dumbledore.

"He was afraid he'd kill himself with that," Harry answered. "He didn't know how it worked." And when he found out, you were already… long gone.

Everything was visible on the ghost's features: the thousand shades of sadness for losing everything and everyone, his own mysterious tragedy, condemned to immortality in this place, the love with which he wanted to spare his daughter and Dumbledore...

Harry genuinely felt sorry for him, but he had to move on.

· There are more like that - he continued, and then Rose paid attention to him again, she really took her eyes off the necklace. "Voldemort also did things like that so he couldn't be killed." And I need to know where they are.

Rose nodded her pretty head, her long hair flowing around her like she was in water.

· Dumbeldore said that he didn't remember anything… and that he didn't want to break the memory erasure charm because…

"... because he didn't want to cause pain," Harry finished the sentence instead. "See how broken he is inside?" He couldn't hurt me for the greater good… He loved me so much…

Harry nodded but didn't say a word.

· But I didn't leave it at that. I understood and accepted that he wouldn't do this to me... When I thought back later, I only loved him even more for that... - he whispered sadly - I was looking for someone else who would...

He then turned his head towards Aunt Muriel, and they looked at each other again.

"Yes," said the old woman. "I loved you differently than Dumbledore." I loved you so much that I caused you pain so that you would know who you are.

The ghost smiled at the words. For the first time, it seemed that the two of them had actually been friends at some point.

· So the charm is broken? Do you remember everything? Harry asked.

"Yes, but you would remember anyway," said Aunt Muriel. "With his death, the effect of the charm also ended." The death of his body would have been enough of a shock to make it all come back.

· But then why didn't they find out what happened? Harry spread his arms in confusion. Rose and Muriel looked at each other and then looked up at Harry.

· We went after him... - answered Rose in a husky voice. A flood of light greeted the room again. – Muriel and I were six years old when we started looking for Dene together. We already knew enough about him then... when did he go to Hogwarts, who was he, where did he go...

· We followed him - the aunt took over. "We tracked him down during the summer, Rose was driven by her desire for revenge, and I was driven by curiosity." I admit, I was curious about Tom Denem. He was rumored to be the most talented student at Hogwarts, and that was a big temptation for a Ravenclaw. Of course, I didn't know how dangerous it was.

"Our plan was to capture him and take him to Dumbledore..." Rose said. "But we didn't succeed."

He recognized me, and when he found out I was Dumbeldore's protégé, he tried to kill me… maybe to keep his secrets hidden… He almost finished us both off… We were lucky to survive… - And the horcruxes? Why weren't they looking for them?

Rose looked at Harry puzzled – Harry then remembered that he hadn't explained this to the ghost yet, but Aunt Muriel replied, "Of course because we didn't know

what to look out for. We saw a lot of things in Rosie's flashbacks, but we didn't know what was relevant and what wasn't. And for Dumbledore…

"They didn't say," Harry sighed.

He was shaking his head, then he suddenly remembered that he had behaved in the same way with the old headmaster. It would have been a lot easier if she had warned Dumbledore about the sounds she heard after opening the Chamber of Secrets, or if she hadn't acted with hurt pride and told him about the Secret Service earlier.

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About his dreams about the department. Although Dumbledore was always helpful, Harry's trust in him was always shaken for some reason.

Hermione cleared her throat at that. "Um...

excuse me," she said, and then everyone looked at her. "Mrs Evans... Those memories... is there any way we can look at them?"

Muriel glanced at Rose, who nodded slowly.

· I can show you... - whispered the ghost.

Harry waited patiently, although inside he was excited and still confused by the bizarre situation.

Rose's spirit retreated, engulfed by the multitude of bright stars, swimming back to the center of the galaxy.

They only had to wait a few moments, then vague images appeared on the surface of the sphere - the outlines of a stone-walled, windowless room. The image quickly cleared, and the Harrys could take a look at the new mysterious room.

It could have been a cellar dug out of rough stone, without any decoration, but with all the more magical structures. There were stone, copper, pewter and gold cauldrons of various sizes; three large cupboards full of test tubes, potions and boxes; the complicated mirror system serving as the only light source, which diffused the light coming in through a hole cut in the middle of the ceiling of the room.

"It's like a laboratory," Ron remarked, and Harry agreed.

"Yes… yes, I've seen that before," murmured Aunt Muriel, frowning. – this is where Rosie was locked up by the… Aunt Muriel bit off the sentence, but Harry mentally finished it and added quite a few curse words.

· Where can this place be? Hermione asked her aunt.

Before the aunt could answer, the memory image changed: the room's only door, a large entrance carved into stone, now opened, kicking up dust and making a scraping sound. Harry's face rivaled that of a stone statue when he saw the two people entering. A tall, black-haired young man walked in front of him, followed by a fat, older wizard who gave the impression of always being rude as he walked around the room, led by Tom Denem.

· Who are these? Ron asked.

"That black haired boy is Voldemort," said Harry. "I don't know the other one, but it's very familiar... I must have seen it somewhere." Maybe a death eater... - I

know who he is - said Aunt Muriel. "His name is Burke." Caractacus Burke.

· Wasn't he the owner of that shop? Hermione cooed. "Borgin & Burke…?"

"Yes," Aunt Muriel nodded, and her face twisted into a disgusted grimace. "It's a worm."

Harry also remembered where he had seen Burke. In Dumbledore's Murmur, when the professor told him how Slytherin's locket came to the art collector Hepzibah Smith.

Voldemort and Burke were now talking softly. Harry and his friends had to listen closely to understand the muffled conversation.

"We are here, my lord," Voldemort said with restrained politeness.

Harry was no longer fooled by this face of his enemy, he knew very well that there was no real respect for his boss behind it. This was just part of the big show. But Burke didn't buy that - or didn't want to notice.

"You've settled in nicely, Tom," said Mr Burke, half appreciatively, half grumpily. Tom said nothing, letting his boss walk around the lab as he pleased.

"I should be angry with you now," Mr Burke continued, turning his back on Voldemort. "I'm not…"

I admit that if I caught you in your snotty new age that you were using this place as an experimental place, you wouldn't get away with a few words.

Tom didn't react to the words either, just wrapped his clasped arms tighter. Harry suspected he had his wand hidden in his robes, but then warned himself that he might be too paranoid.

· Tell me, Tom, what kind of things are you doing here?

"I'm just quenching my thirst for knowledge, Mr Burke," Voldemort replied flatteringly.

Mr Burke was apparently not satisfied with the answer and walked around the place as if it was his own.

He checked everything one by one, the cabinets, the mirrors, the cauldrons, but there was nothing extraordinary in the laboratory that would have been a telltale sign for the Harrys. Most of the room looked too empty.

"Pretty poor equipment compared to your thirst for knowledge," said Mr Burke scornfully. "That's a lot of crap... you'll find it in any Hogwarts school supply store..."

"I am headmaster of Hogwarts, sir..." Voldemort blurted out, and again the restraint was felt in his high voice.

· If you were just that, I wouldn't have hired you here. If you had come here as a well-groomed mother's favorite student, I would have sent you away immediately - the man spat the words.

For the first time, Voldemort's face showed a chillingly icy look. Harry knew that face and would have been wiser to hold back if he were him. However, Mr Burke did not know that Voldemort.

"I would remind you, my lord, that my mother is dead," said Voldemort. Burke shrugged.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, but there was no regret in his voice. "Well, can you tell me what's in it for me?"

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A shadow passed over Voldemort's face.

· Would you use it? - he asked sharply, then quickly added: -... sir?

· Yes, I use it. Because this is my business Tom, so I'm waiting for the results. If you conduct experiments here, for some study, where are the results? Show me and I'll monetize it! Burke sputtered, gesticulating wildly. "I'm good at that, remember?"

Voldemort assumed his monstrous form, but Burke still seemed to see him as the obedient employee. Harry could have sworn that Voldemort's eyes were starting to turn red as well.

· Result Mr Burke? Voldemort whispered. "Do you want to see the result?"

Everything happened in a single moment. Voldemort's black-gloved hand snapped forward like a snake's head. He grabbed Mr Burke by the throat, and with his other hand he gripped the man's wrist, which might have been reaching for the wand.

A yelp of pain left Mr Burke's throat as Voldemort twisted one of his wrists and surrendered with an eerie crack.

"Oh my God..." Hermione whispered horrified and clung to Ron's arm. Harry suspected that the scene wouldn't have such an effect on his friends if they didn't know that it was Voldemort himself who was now pushing Caractacus Burke against the table in the middle of the room.

Harry was aware that this sight was decisive for Ron and Hermione, as they were seeing Lord Voldemort for the first time in their lives.

· So the equipment is poor, Burke? Voldemort hissed, squeezing the man with both hands. "Haven't you been told that looks are deceiving?"

Voldemort snapped his finger, and the lens and mirror hanging above his head turned - the light in the room changed, a pale green glow filled everything, and with that, in a single moment, the laboratory was expanded with new furnishings.

A few new cabinets appeared, black chests stacked on top of each other, silver instruments that Harry didn't understand how they worked, floating, constantly rotating golden orbs, and a makeshift bed in the corner, on which was a thin, brown-haired girl. Rose looked even more horrible than the memory she had seen in Dumbledore's brooding – her eyes were blood red, her face rivaling the paleness of a dead person.

Harry was of the opinion that Rose and the other newly released equipment had always been there, just protected by some kind of magic.

The greenish light was emanating from one of the largest cauldrons, which suddenly filled with a poisonous green liquid - Harry immediately recognized it as the same potion that Dumbledore had been forced to drink on the night of his death.

· What do you do? Are you crazy?!

Burke could only take a horrified look at the girl, who was looking at him dazedly, and then Voldemort swung his wand. Harry didn't see when he pulled it out, but he turned it with lightning speed. An ordinary wooden drinking cup appeared with a soft pop and flew towards the stone cauldron. He plunged into the green poison and floated back to Voldemort.

· Don't… don't! Burke protested, but to no avail.

Even then, Voldemort was such a powerful wizard that even a much older, more experienced mage could not do anything against him. Voldemort shoved the liquid down Burke's throat, who immediately began screaming and writhing on the floor.

· You're mine now Burke! Voldemort hissed. "If you object to it, you will die." Don't resist…

Burke coughed and gagged, in what must have been excruciating pain as the green liquid slowly took over him.

· In the end, this fool will kill himself...! Voldemort grumbled, addressing the little girl who was blinking hard.

He pointed his wand at Burke and muttered the legilimens spell - he gradually took control of Burke's mind, and his pain began to decrease. Burke surrendered to the power of the liquid.

To the astonishment of Harry, Ron and Hermione, the next moment the man stood up, pulled himself out, dusted off his trousers and robes, then bowed to the younger man.

"Lord Voldemort, I am your loyal servant," the man said crystal clear. Voldemort gave a creepy smile and put his wand away.

The memory ended with that, the image blurred and the image of the shining galaxy returned. Not long after, Rose's ghost floated back into the foreground as well.

· Is that what happened? Do you remember that much? Ron asked a little hoarsely.

· No way! Aunt Muriel choked out. Lots of memories of experiments, don't you, Rosie?

The ghost nodded sadly.

· I can show them too...

Harry shook his head and so did Hermione.

"We saw what we wanted," Harry said. "The laboratory..." "Didn't they look for this place, Aunt Muriel?" Hermione asked.

· Of course - came the answer immediately. "But you can't just look around at Borgin & Burke!" Only customers can enter the store, not anywhere else...

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Harry nodded absently and scratched at his scar. It had become a bad habit of late, but it helped him think.

That green liquid... It takes hold of a person like a diary. It must have something to do with Horcruxes, Harry thought. Like in the cave that Dumbledore drank. This covered the necklace… Where the green liquid is, there is the horcrux. This was also on Hermione's mind, as she looked impatiently at Harry.

The boy came to his senses, remembered that he had to make the decisions.

· We have to go to the store! Harry stated. "We're calling Order members, aurors, everyone we need..."

We're turning the whole place upside down…

· From Harry…

· What's up?

Hermione bit her lip before answering, Harry knew it was a sign of brooding and uncertainty on her part.

· We can't get Voldemort's attention. Harry had to admit that she was right.

· Then we have to get in another way... but the main thing is to do it quickly.

For a full minute they just stood there, no one saying anything - finally Aunt Muriel broke the silence.

"We have to go, Harry." It's almost five o'clock and the first people are coming. We have to leave unnoticed.

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement, but Harry didn't want to go. There was someone here that he didn't want to just leave here. Rose and Harry just looked at each other, a pair of green eyes and a pair of green eyes... and yet they were so alien to each other. Harry wasn't sure if he would be able to move. The past captured him again, it was as if he had found something he had longed for, but it wasn't the real thing either. Nothing is what you expected it to be. He imagined it quite differently with Sirius, and now here is Rose Evans, alive and dead at the same time.

It was clear to Rose what was paralyzing Harry, and she also knew what it was that could make him move: "Just go," she said with a smile, and love lit up the room. "We don't have to say goodbye, I'll be here..."

Harry nodded with a numb mind and Rose didn't wait for Harry to hesitate again. Quickly, without a word, he swam back into the brightness and disappeared from their sight. He was gone and Harry was no longer held by the past.

He sighed deeply, and all that he had experienced here in the past hour escaped him with his breath. He was finally able to walk. He took a few steps back and followed his friends out of the Hall of Souls.

Aunt Muriel closed the oak door, quickly led them through the Dementor Hall, opened the mirror, and by the time Harry regained consciousness, he was already in front of the elevators, outside the Department of Mysteries.

· Why is it so dark in here? Ron asked as Aunt Muriel closed the black door of the Department behind them. "I don't mind either," Harry replied. "But it's really dark..."

· Come on, said the aunt, and pulled out the hat from the belt of her robe. "Here's the zip key, it'll take you back." I have to stay here now...

· Why? Ron wondered.

· Because the building noted that I was here at night, and it would be a bit difficult for me to find an explanation for why I left before the start of working hours. Overtime is easy to put in... - And what? Hermione worried. "Didn't

the building notice us?"

· He doesn't recognize you, he just notes that there were three other people in the Department besides me - the aunt explained. - I'll give you a story, it won't be a problem. But go now, hurry!

Harry, Ron, and Hermione took turns taking hold of the tattered headgear. Aunt Muriel quickly let go and took a step back.

· Have a good trip! the aunt smiled. Ron began to count slowly.

· A…

A slight shiver ran down Harry's spine as if an icy wind had blown him.

· Two...

Harry's face went limp, strangely weak… the cold breath made the hair on his arms stand up.

· Three…

· Dementors! Harry yelled as the realization dawned on him.

But it was too late. The wrench went into action and Harry, Ron and Hermione felt a strong tug at their navels and then began spinning in nothingness.

The trip only lasted seconds, but it was worse than anything I'd ever experienced. Their faces turned red from the ice-cold wind, their fingers turned blue, and all serenity and happiness burst out of their hearts. An unearthly shriek filled their ears.

"Ouch…" Harry moaned as he hit the ground with a loud crash in the middle of the unknown. It was surrounded by ice, there was ice under it, and blackness everywhere.

· Ron… Hermione… Where are you? Harry shouted, but his voice was lost in the hungry screeching of the Dementors. "Harry..." came Hermione's voice, and the next moment he felt her cold fingers on his arm.

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The Dementors then attacked. Out of nowhere they swooped towards them, but Harry and Hermione didn't hesitate.

· Expecto Patronum! they shouted in unison, and a cloud of silvery smoke immediately erupted from their wands.

Both cartridges proved to be weak. The feeble shields were swept aside by the Dementors like a cloud of light vapor. Harry fell weakly to his knees.

· Hermione! - then Ron's terrified voice was heard, and at that moment the spell sounded again.

The image came together before Harry's eyes. The last thing he saw was a dementor's rotting hand in front of his face, then blinding whiteness.

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Chapter 22

The Prince and the Chosen One

When Harry woke up and opened his eyes, for a few moments he didn't even know who or how he got here - or even where he was. There was silence around him, the kind of silent silence that one perceives as an annoying hum.

Harry felt the same in the first stages of awakening, then as the events before his blackout slowly dawned on him, the buzzing stopped. Although it was still quiet in the room where Harry lay, he became aware that he was alive and breathing, his heart was beating and he could see. The plaster had peeled off the walls of the pitifully small room in some places, leaving ugly stains on the original whitewashed covering. The bed he was lying in was a simple, iron-framed, but comfortable bed with the most puritanical gray striped bedclothes. Harry saw all these details dimly, and this led him to the next stage of his self-awareness: he needed glasses.

He raised his leaden right arm and reached for the lone nightstand beside him, where his round-lensed glasses awaited him. However, the sequence of movements was interrupted, because Harry then noticed another, surprising thing.

As soon as he saw his own hand, he immediately realized that something was wrong with it. What was wrong was that it was normal. No damage, scratches or burn marks anywhere, it was completely intact. This unexpected situation (for now his brain only treated it as an unexpected situation, he did not realize a feeling of joy or anything else) made his arm reach for the glasses again, and now he could see a clear picture of the healed limbs. Both of his hands, where the envelope had left severe burn marks, were now normal, just like before. Even the old scar was clearly visible: Lying is a crime.

After getting over his initial surprise, he immediately turned back to the bedside table to retrieve his wand, but the magic device was not there. He pulled out the drawer of the small cabinet, but it contained nothing but a few tissues, a Muggle pencil, and a lone spider. Whoever brought him here wanted him unarmed.

Harry kicked off the covers and his excitement subsided somewhat when he saw that he was wearing his clothes. If only your pockets weren't searched, then…

He rolled up the legs of his jeans to his knees, and his heart skipped a beat with relief when he noticed that the spare wand was in the small holster strapped to his leg.

Without hesitation, he pulled out the wand, pulled back his pant legs and climbed out of bed without a sound. His boots were waiting at the foot of the bed, and after pulling them on, thanks to the inaudible footwear, he was able to hurry to the door unnoticed. Meanwhile, he looked out of the small window behind the bed, gray with dust, and found that the uninhabited city outside was completely unknown to him. The frozen river, the cube houses and the tall factory chimney showed the image of a depressing small town.

He pressed his ear to the worn, rough surface and listened. He didn't hear an orphan's nest, but another idea came to his mind: the telefone. If the wand was not noticed, there is a good chance that the flesh-colored cord stuffed into his left pocket was not taken either.

But now he was wrong - there was no sign of the earpiece, his pockets were completely empty. Harry found this particularly odd. He couldn't do anything else - he still didn't hear any sounds, he couldn't have climbed out of the barred window unnoticed

-, so he slowly pressed the doorknob.

Another surprise hit him: the door obediently opened. According to them, he is not a prisoner, as he thought until now.

He peeked behind the ajar door, then opened it a little more bravely. He reached a room slightly larger than the room, which appeared to be a short corridor in front of the door, then widened to the right hand side into a kitchen. A weak light shone from the barred window, and you could see the battered furniture and the sink, where the unwashed dishes were piled up. With his wand pointed in front of him, Harry took a few steps towards the kitchen, just to make sure no one was hiding in one of the corners.

Now that he had left the room, another feeling besides bewilderment began to rise in him. He was troubled by the absence of Ron and Hermione. His last memory before he passed out was when he and Hermione were outmatched in their fight against the Dementors, but Harry also remembered Ron summoning a Patronus at the last minute. I wonder what happened to him? If Hermione collapsed next to him, she must be here somewhere. But maybe Ron could have escaped to get help, maybe he could have gotten away in time...

The more he thought about it, the more improbable this assumption seemed. When the cogwheel's magical channel collapsed, they landed in an unknown area. They had no idea where they were, so jumping would have been difficult for them, if not downright impossible.

Harry turned his back on the kitchen once he was sure there were no assassins hiding there and turned his attention to the door at the end of the corridor. It was the only exit from the room, so he didn't have to think about what to do. He didn't want to wait at all - he started towards the door and started listening for the first time, just like the previous method.

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The sound of a very soft conversation filtered through from the other side of the door, but Harry couldn't make out a word no matter how hard he strained his ears.

He waited to see if the people talking would come closer to the door or leave, but apart from small pauses, some of them were conversing continuously. Harry took three deep breaths in a row and then pressed the doorknob. The door creaked bitterly before Harry immediately stopped and started listening again. There was no sign that they had noticed the noise, the conversation continued. And Harry opened the door a crack and peeked out.

The room was a continuation of the previous one, with the same cracked parquet floor and faded beige wallpaper that gave off a faint musty smell. The conversation seemed a little louder, but it became clear that those people were not in this room. Harry bravely opened the door and entered the unfurnished room. In the wall to his right was a door that almost completely merged with it, which stood carelessly, half open, revealing some details of the next room.

Relying on the magic power of his boots, Harry hurried along the wall to the secret door. Now he didn't have to strain his ears to hear the conversation. He understood every word clearly, but despite hearing the dialogue, the first few sentences did not reach his consciousness, because the recognition pushed everything else out of his mind.

· I told you, don't poke your nose in it - said a well-known, icy voice. "When the others arrive, you can hear what you need to hear, Wormtail."

· Don't order me Severus! the man called Wormtail snapped. "I don't have to pretend to be your servant!" I'm not a house elf! Not…

· Did you ask the Great Lord about this? snapped Snape quietly. Wormtail whispered the answer in confusion. -

And what did he tell you?

"He told me…to obey…" Pettigrew groaned unwillingly. - That's right. Then will you please do what I said and not do what I didn't say?

Harry couldn't see his former teacher, but he knew Snape had that hateful, contemptuous grin on his face that he had used on him, Harry, countless times before.

There was no answer, Wormtail might have nodded.

· Then go and find him! Snape issued the order. "I would go after him myself, but I can't right now." The scraping of a coat and the tapping of shoes hit Harry's ears.

· Head towards the pier, that's where he usually walks. If you've found it... - then there was a clinking of money and a crumpling of paper,-,

have dinner.

· What is this?

"Muggle money," Snape replied. "I'm serious, Wormtail." Listen to him. He has barely eaten for days...

Pettigrew muttered something unintelligible, and then suddenly the coins fell to the ground and there was a sound like a dog whining.

· Take care of your mouth, because you will walk! snapped Snape at the other. "You don't even come close, Wormtail!" He sacrificed much more than you! He didn't save her life, quite the opposite. He risked it! Judging by the sounds, Snape shoved Pettigrew. "Respect for that, okay?"

Wormtail stuttered something like an apology, but Snape didn't care anymore.

· We have a lot to do and good timing is important. We can't make any mistakes now…neither can he. And anyway, if something goes wrong, Narcissa will wring my neck.

The floor creaked, coins clattered to each other, Pettigrew picked up the scattered money from the floor. Snape paced the room. - We have to be careful, but also fast -

he continued. - And we have to take care of our guests before the Dark Lord gets here...

There was silence, Harry could only hear his own heartbeat and Wormtail's wheezing gasp.

· Is Mr. N coming here? - the man's terrified voice rang out. "But if..." "That's right,

he's coming here to see if we succeeded," Snape said quietly, regaining his cool composure.

· But... but if you don't get what you came for, then...

"I'll take the consequences," whispered Snape so quietly that Harry barely understood.

· What… what if I kill you? groaned Wormtail.

Snape let out a loud laugh, which was very unusual for him.

· Maybe you didn't fear for my life, Wormtail?

Pettigrew kept silent, Snape continued to laugh, more softly now.

· You know, he doesn't usually kill the First, no matter how big a mistake he makes. You know this very well, because you were also the First, if I remember correctly... It's true, circumstances played into your hands the opportunity to be the Lord's most important person, and even twice

· Snape's voice didn't ring any recognition, all the more mockery. "Of course, Wormtail." We both deserved to be First, and since it's now my turn, I don't have to fear for my life. At least for now…

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Silence settled over the room again, Pettigrew perhaps digesting what he heard. Harry did the same in covering the door. What kind of First? Take care of the guests? So Snape still wants to kill him! How could he be so stupid?! Harry raged. "He killed Dumbledore in front of his eyes, and yet he was inclined to believe the absurdity that the painting conjured up!"

· Y-yes... I was the first too! Pettigrew regained his voice. "I brought the Lord back to the country, I took care of him, I took him to Kupor!" It's nice that I was First... And... and for that I deserve respect! Are you listening, Severus? I am as worthy of respect as you are! Or the Malfoy boy…

"Of course," Snape allowed him mockingly. - I respect you... how

about... - And could I ask you, for the umpteenth time, not to clean your house with me? the man continued briskly. "I may have to obey you, but I'm not your house elf." So far, who has put order at all?

Maybe you? Wormtail let out a weak little laugh. "You don't stoop to that level, do you?"

· Sure, we'll get a house elf to make it more comfortable for you! Snape snorted and again the sound of faster steps filtered into the room. "Now dig, go to work!"

· I'm going... - muttered Pettigrew annoyed, then a door creaked open, and after a few moments it slammed shut.

Harry, if possible, held his breath even more now, his wand clenched tightly in his hand, ready to fight. If Snape came back to check on him now, he could ambush and stun him. And then he would find Ron and Hermione.

Two things became clear to Harry from the conversation: that Snape had not only captured him, but at least one of his friends, and that there was no one else in the house at the moment besides his hated former teacher, the other prisoner, and him. You must act now before it's too late! If Snape was dealt with, he could call the Order of the Phoenix, and then…

· Come in, Potter!

Harry's blood froze in his veins.

· I know you're standing behind the door.

Harry's heart skipped a beat when Snape exposed him, but he already seemed to be making up for it. He was pounding like he was going to knock his chest out. Harry took deep breaths to try to calm himself down. They were taken by surprise...

Before he could come up with any new plans, a soft breeze blew in, and the half-open door, which until now had only revealed a worn carpet and a detail of shelves laden with leather-bound books, was now completely open. The walls were completely covered by bookcases, leaving only a window and the front door. In the center was a small, wobbly table, surrounded by a couch and an old armchair.

Snape stood at the far end of the small living room, wand in hand, hanging limply at his side. The man with pale skin, a crooked nose, and long, greasy hair framed his face like two curtains. With a superior, confident look, he locked eyes with Harry, who was still standing half behind the wall.

· But you woke up. Just now...

Harry moved at lightning speed. As he jumped into the room, his right hand, which had been holding the wand that had been covering the wall until now, also swung forward. Snape barely even got up from the surprise, Harry's wand already flashed red, and immediately after that it glowed blue. He only had time to defend against the stun curse, but he couldn't react to the next one in time. When the blue beam hit Snape's left knee, he jumped into the air as if he had stepped on a spring, his head hitting the ceiling painfully. The next blow was dealt to him by the fibrous floor.

Snape hissed in pain, and lying on the ground almost immediately sent a curse at his opponent. Harry parried it with a broad movement, the curse hitting one of the bookcases. Books and charred pages flew everywhere along with the pieces of the shelves.

· Stupor!

Before Snape's next curse hit its target, Harry ducked to the side behind the rickety table. Between the legs of the table, he aimed for the wizard's ankles and quickly delivered a leg-shaking damage.

Snape lunged and hit his chin, but pointed his wand at Harry. A pale blue beam of a disarming charm zigzagged between the legs of the table, but Harry parried it. The curse dissipated, as did the next one.

Harry didn't want to give Snape time to undo the spell binding his legs, so he quickly charged back. A stunning curse hissed out from the end of his wand, but immediately bounced back from Snape's protective charm. The curse slammed into the floor inches from Harry, leaving a small, burnt hole in the moth-eaten carpet.

The same thing happened with the next red beam - Harry attacked with determination, Snape defended himself in a tight position. He didn't have time to fight back, but he tried to direct the stunning and disarming curses back at Harry.

When a retarding bug bounced off Snape's magical shield and flew straight at Harry, he was afraid that Harry would be slammed into the wall by his own curse. He was forced to break the attack and he also had to defend.

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At the last moment, he managed to conjure up a protective shield in front of him, causing the curse to bounce back towards Snape. However, his opponent successfully parried again, but now the beam of light zigzagged upwards from the shield charm and hit the table top from below. The table spun and flew into the air, reached the chandelier and gave it a big push, causing it to swing wildly. As a result of the curse, the table fell to pieces, and then fell directly on Harry's head. - Aaaah! he shouted painfully, while covering his head with his

arms.

The pause of a few seconds in the fight was enough for Snape to undo the leg cuff damage and scramble to his feet.

Harry pushed the tabletop off him with an irritated movement and quickly jumped up. At that moment, however, Snape sent a backlash towards him, which hit him full. This ended with Harry ending up against the wall, his right shoulder, elbow and back suffering a painful blow, books falling on his head. His knees buckled from the momentary pain, and he was sure that a couple of his ribs were broken.

· Was that enough Potter? Snape snapped at him with rage. "Do you still want to play the hero?"

The answer to his question came in the form of a stunning curse, but Snape parried it with an easy potion. Harry could no longer defend himself against the returning light beam, he only had enough time to quickly fall down. The curse slammed into the row of closets overhead, wreaking havoc like the previous ones.

Snape's wand now boomed loudly and glowed blue, but the curse missed its target. Harry rolled to the side so he could avoid it. The movement caused severe pain around his ribs and shoulders, but he didn't care.

As he regained his balance, he attacked again, full swing. In quick succession, he sent two disabling damage to his opponent, who, however, protected everything. The two flying curses destroyed the furniture in the room: it cut a big hole in the couch and pushed the armchair up.

Harry was getting more and more tired from the grueling fight and the pain. He was nervously thinking about what to do.

Before Snape could fight back, he quickly threw more damage at him just to keep the wizard busy. The curses bounced back, one hitting the bookcase next to Harry's left elbow, shaking the walls.

The chandelier swayed again and began to give way.

· Sectumsempra! Harry bellowed as he waved his wand.

Snape stepped a little to the side and made a sweeping motion with his wand. The invisible curse hit the cupboard far away from them. Now the shelves weren't broken into pieces, the books weren't burnt, instead a long, straight cut cut through the entire cupboard. He stood motionless for a few moments, then all the furniture along the cut slowly fell away, revealing a staircase behind him that led upstairs.

· I see you learned the curse properly, Potter! Snape shouted angrily.

· Yes! I'm going to slice you up with this! - Harry yelled out of himself and pushed away. "Sectumsempra!"

He spewed the next curse as he ran until he ran back towards the door from the open corner. Snape brushed that aside as well, but Harry was already in the bare room by then. He didn't hide against the wall, fearing the power of the curse that could penetrate the wall, but he didn't stop at the door either. He moved towards the center of the small place, then quickly stepped to the side to see into the room.

Snape's black figure was standing in the middle, and he was casting a stunning curse on him. Harry didn't try to parry, he simply stepped out of the way of the curse. He stepped

out from the cover of the wall again, and now he attacked, but Snape used the same tactics as him, moving out of his way. In the blink of an eye, however, he was there again, sending a beam of red light towards Harry. Harry was now attacking instead of defending. The two curses exploded where they met in the middle, knocking out the frame, along with part of the wall, and tearing off the secret door.

The whole house shook with the explosion, and a loud clatter indicated that the chandelier had also been torn off. Harry couldn't see anything from the dust cloud of the explosion for a while, he could only cough and try to get out of the way of the opening in time and take cover.

Then a very strange thing happened: fiery ropes shot out of the dust cloud like angry snakes and latched onto Harry's wrist. The fire left a searing burn on his hand, but Harry only felt it for a second - the ropes jerked and he was already being dragged out of the room.

· Finite! Finite! Harry shouted, pointing his wand at the ropes.

The ropes fell and disappeared and Harry fell forward. Now he saw Snape, the wizard standing in front of him and pointing his wand at him.

There was nothing to do. After a loud snap, the wand flew out of Harry's hand and across the room.

· Are you done with the stupid heroics? Snape hissed and flicked his wand. An invisible force pulled Harry to his feet, but his legs immediately buckled and he slumped against the sofa. Snape no longer pointed his wand at him, instead he grabbed Harry's messy hair and pushed him against the cupboard with a painful tug.

Harry slid to the floor leaning against the bookcase, but Snape pulled him back to his feet by his hair. - Aaaah! Harry wailed.

"It hurts, doesn't it, Potter?" snapped Snape like a rabid dog.

Harry was overcome with rage again and he reached for Snape's wand-holding hand with determination. He wanted to hit the man in the stomach with his other hand, but he quickly moved away from him. But he couldn't catch the wand in time, so Harry could suddenly grab it.

· Serpent sortia! - he shouted, and his wand made a big bang.

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The spell was cast when the wand was pointing towards the ceiling, but the result had already bounced back into Snape's neck. An angry rattlesnake coiled, confused for the time being, between the folds of the man's robes. Snape tried to shake him off while Harry took a few steps back.

· Bite me! Kill him! he hissed at the snake.

· What are you doing? Snape's angry voice was now full of fear.

The snake tried to attack, but Snape shook it off and made the animal disappear. Harry was about to go for his wand when he collapsed to the ground, for the umpteenth time. He felt strong ropes wrap around his hands, locking both arms back.

· You damned little…!

Snape pulled her back to her feet by her hair and pushed her roughly onto the couch with holes in it.

· You stay there or you'll regret it! bellowed the wizard. He could see that the duel had taken a toll on him as well, he was panting violently, blood dripping from his mouth and forehead.

They looked at each other with a maddened look for a long minute and didn't say a word. Meanwhile, Snape gradually regained his composure and dusted his clothes with his hands, keeping his wand on Harry the whole time.

Harry just bellowed like an angry bull, but there was nothing he could do. It would have been useless to bother with the ropes, the stick was too far and his shoulder hurt. He was forced to accept that he had lost the duel against Snape for the second time.

Snape waved his wand, and the overturned armchair rushed to him and stood up. He sat down exhausted, massaging his right wrist with his left arm, and his face was especially calm.

· What did you say to the snake? he asked quietly. Harry didn't answer. Snape smiled faintly.

"You've improved a lot," he remarked, watching Harry constantly. "I see you've learned wordless magic…"

"You don't deserve it," Harry grumbled softly. Snape smiled again.

· Of course... I don't think you've learned anything from me in the six years. You can only learn from those who are passionate about you...

Harry pursed his lips and looked defiantly at Snape. He didn't care that she was looking right into his eyes, which is the first condition of legilimency, he didn't care about anything anymore. Snape's smile widened slightly, probably sensing what Harry was thinking.

· Where did you get the wand? he asked again.

Harry was silent for a moment, then brought himself to answer.

· I hid it. Just for cases like this.

"I told that fool to ride me," snapped Snape. "He can't even do that properly..."

· What did you do with my friends? Harry asked suddenly.

Snape replied nonchalantly.

· They are here too. I locked them in the room upstairs - he waved towards the stairwell behind the fallen wardrobe. Harry gave him a murderous look.

"They weren't hurt," Snape added, seeing Harry's expression. "After the Dementors captured you, Wormtail and I brought you here." Weasley was restless so I stunned him.

He paused, then cleared his throat and stood up from his chair.

· Then now it's time for us to talk a little... - Let them go, you don't need them - said Harry.

"Don't take my word for it, Potter!" snapped Snape. "I'll let them go, I'll let them go as I see fit." Although I am no longer your teacher, I recommend that you listen when I speak. I don't have to stick to the school rules either! he said menacingly.

Harry remained silent and just looked at the black robed figure with hatred. Snape started to walk, doing a few circles in front of Harry, then stopped and looked him in the eye again.

"Did you get Professor Dumbledore's letter?" he asked.

The Headmaster's name almost burned Harry's ears as Snape uttered it. He could hardly restrain himself from yelling at her, instead pressing his lips together.

· Answer me! I can't make it all day, Potter! snapped Snape impatiently. "Yes," Harry replied. "I got it." - And I bet

you didn't believe a word of it, did you? Snape smiled. "Well, yes, the outcome of the Great Lord's plan was unfortunate, especially for us..."

Harry looked away from Snape and just muttered, "Murderer."

The smile disappeared from Snape's face, but he didn't look back at Harry. "That's right, Potter, I'm a murderer," he said quietly.

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Harry didn't react, he just stared at nothing, but over and over again he saw the face of Snape executing Dumbledore in front of him.

· The content of the letter is true, Professor Dumbledore asked me to help destroy the Horcruxes and thus the Dark Lord in the event of his death. Unfortunately, none of us foresaw what would happen...

Harry snorted disdainfully. He wanted to scream again, but the words wouldn't come to his mouth. He felt that he had already given his all when he discussed these with Dumbledore's portrait.

· I couldn't stay after what happened, especially since you saw what I did... I admit, I didn't know you were there in the tower. I had hoped that after Draco had fled, I could come back to school and simply blame one of the Death Eaters for the murder.

Harry looked at Snape again with, if possible, even more hatred than before.

· However, you saw everything and it ruined my plans and even the professor's. Ideally, you would never have known that I had killed Dumbledore and we would have been able to carry out the plan without being disturbed, but unfortunately…

A joyless smile spread across Harry's face and ignoring the previous warning, he cut into Snape's words.

· Unfortunately, you turned out to be a cloak-twisting traitor, yes. Snape was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

"But I didn't betray the professor," he said quietly. - And should I believe that? Harry snapped at him.

· This is what Professor Dumbledore expects of you. He never expected more, Potter, than to be believed. But you're too proud even

for that, Snape continued. - You'd better start saving the world with that boyish Weasley and the clever Granger! - And what could I have done? Would we have entrusted ourselves to a

dirty killer? Harry yelled. Snape ignored the insult.

"I didn't betray the professor," he repeated emphatically. "I betrayed the Lord, because he also betrayed me..."

· Of course, he wanted to kill himself, didn't he? Harry interrupted skeptically.

Snape fell silent again and looked at Harry strangely. Then, with sudden determination, he sat back in the armchair.

· The Lord betrayed me, as did almost all his followers. He never carried out what he promised, and thus committed treason against all his men. This is the way of the Dark Lords, said Snape in an emotionless voice.

He ran a long index finger over his mouth and said, "I am an

enemy of the Dark Lord, just like you, Potter." Our motives are very similar, you and me. Only our methods are different. Yes, they are very different…

I have kept the details from you until now, on the orders of the professor, but the situation changed radically at the time of his death. I don't want to do it, but I will involve you in my plans. I am also forced to do this because last April I learned that only you can accomplish the most important ones. Of course I'm talking about destroying the Lord.

Harry listened intently. His common sense, which told him to keep quiet, pushed stubborn doubt into the background.

· When the Lord reincarnated nearly three years ago and Dumbledore summoned the Order of the Phoenix, my task was to gain the Lord's trust again and spy on him. I went to see him two hours after his return, when you were lying in the infirmary. I told him all about the re-formation of the Order of the Phoenix, who its members were and what had happened at Hogwarts in the past thirteen years.

There were important details that I kept from the Lord, such as Dumbledore sending emissaries to the giants, and even Cornelius Fudge's approach to the situation. With these, I was only able to hold him back for a few days, just so that he could figure out what was going on in the background. That was the first step.

However, during our first meeting, I noticed a great opportunity, which I immediately tried to exploit. And this is the internal division between the Death Eaters.

As you may know, Potter, the group of Death Eaters can be divided into two groups. One type is the fanatic, self-sacrificing Death Eater who would do anything for the Dark Lord...

"Lestrange…" Harry remarked.

"Exactly," Snape nodded. "As strange as it may seem to you, they are the ones whose behavior is the furthest from that of the Great Lord." These lunatics are willing to do anything to please him, and that is exactly how they lower themselves in his eyes. They did not understand anything of what the Great Lord taught them, so they are actually victims. Unlucky fools.

The other group who escaped from Azkaban captivity - Snape smiled faintly. – We are far from willing to sacrifice everything for the Great Lord, we remain on the ground of reasonableness, as everyone should.

I told the High Lord that Lucius Malfoy used his diary for his own purposes and lost it.

The Lord became extremely angry with Lucius, and no punishment was spared. I knew he wasn't going to kill him because he needed every single one of his people after he got back, so I felt free to use him. The Great Lord

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he tortured him in front of the other Death Eaters, who grew in fear of their master. And that's exactly what it was for me

my goal.

You know, Potter, fear breeds obedience, but when it overflows, it tends to do the opposite. It took a long time, but now it's established. There is a conspiracy among the Death Eaters. And that was Professor Dumbledore's goal. That was his original plan and the reason he didn't tell anyone why he trusted me. He was more willing to pretend to be a fool, even in your eyes. Pretending to believe a former Death Eater just because he says he's repented of his sins.

I regretted my own stupidity, because I immediately joined the ranks of the Lord's followers after Hogwarts and would have done everything for the freedom he promised. Because this is what he promised: freedom, because power makes you free. If we become his companions, he will share his power with us and we can do whatever we want... Of course, it was all a lie. We were no more than mere servants.

Did it not occur to you that the Order of the Phoenix's task was first to protect and guard you and the prophecy, and today it is practically exhausted by guarding Hogwarts and helping you?

The old Order was not like that. Members of the old Order hunted down the Death Eaters.

This is because the professor realized that a new war requires a new war plan. Death Eaters are no longer the biggest threat, as they used to be, but the Lord himself. Just one person…

Therefore, enemies had to be found among the Death Eaters, the Lord's confidants. People who are as terrified of power as you are.

And there are such. Due to this, the bodies of Death Eaters are weaker than ever.

· Who does this group consist of? Harry asked, digesting what he heard.

· I'll introduce you to them soon. We arranged a meeting, they will come here tomorrow. But among them is that stupid Wormtail, and Draco…

· Malfoy? Harry snapped. "But well..."

"Draco earned my trust when he didn't do his job." That's exactly what I expected, as did the professor, said Snape.

A brief silence settled over the room, the dust had settled, and Harry had completely forgotten about the throbbing pain in his shoulders and ribs. However, her semi-lying position began to become uncomfortable with her hands tied behind her back, so she put her feet down and worked herself into a sitting position. Snape watched him half-eyed.

"So you believe I'm not an enemy, Potter?" he asked.

· Do I have any other choice? Harry grunted in response. "No," whispered the wizard slyly.

Harry sighed and shook his head in resignation. He felt that he was still waiting for answers to some of his questions.

· I recently received a cursed letter. An elf delivered it. Did you send it yourself?

"Yes, I was," Snape nodded. "When you received the letter, I was able to identify you from a distance." "I noticed…" Harry remarked. - That's how I

was able to enter your mind in your dream and find out everything that happened since we last met.

I needed information and I needed to know when you were going where. That's the only way I could catch you. The letter was burned to leave no trace. I couldn't have known that it would still be in your hands then, I probably penetrated your mind too strongly... - he said without any regret. "But as you can see, I healed your hand." - And how did you stop the zip lock?

"It wasn't me, it was the Dementors," Snape answered. "If there are many dementors together, in one place, they can drain the magic power from people." Like in Azkaban once upon a time. And this also applies to objects.

Harry's hand was hurting more and more from the grip of the ropes, and he had a nasty scratch on his wrist. Snape seemed to understand what he meant again because he flicked his wand and the ropes fell from Harry's arm. - And what is

your plan now? Harry asked, rubbing his wrist.

Snape stood up and went to the window. He looked left and right for a few seconds as if waiting for someone, then turned back to Harry.

"First of all, you have to tell me what you found at the Department of Mysteries," he said.

Harry sat back on the couch and collected his memories of the past night. He debated whether to tell Snape everything, and finally, after a short struggle, he decided to give a concise account of the whole thing. Whatever was going to happen, there was no point in hiding what he had learned from his grandmother and Aunt Muriel. If Snape is on his side, he should know everything - and if he's secretly Voldemort's man despite everything he says, then it doesn't really matter to hide the details.

Snape listened intently to what was happening about the Chamber of Souls, the dementors locked in the tank, and Rose Evans, but the important part for him was the laboratory under Borgin & Burke.

"Yes, there's probably a horcrux in there," Snape confirmed Harry's opinion after running a long finger over his mouth thoughtfully. He paced up and down thoughtfully, and Harry waited impatiently for developments.

· Well? Harry asked sharply.

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Snape's eyes flashed sharply. If this conversation had happened earlier, Snape would have been furious at him for not addressing him as a teacher. Maybe that's what he wanted, Harry couldn't tell from the rude features of his face, but after a short pause, the man said, "My plan is this: you

do nothing," ordered Snape. - Tomorrow I will send you and your little friends back to headquarters and you will stay there. You give me some story about your absences, I don't care what, that's your business. I'll let you know if I need you. Of course, we go together for the horcrux because the director wanted it that way. Was I clear, Potter?

Harry nodded resignedly and tried not to think about how Lupin would look if he had to keep a secret from him again. Instead, he concentrated on his other questions, which he could now get answers to.

· Speaking of plans, could you tell me what Voldemort is planning…?

· Don't say his name! snapped Snape nervously.

Harry didn't even wait for Snape to finish, he continued.

· What is he doing now, where is he at all? Who are your allies? You know everything, don't you, since you are the First, or shall we say, Voldemort's favorite...

· Shut up, stupid...!

However, Harry didn't leave it at that.

· Why don't you say your name? If you're Voldemort's enemy, don't call him Dark Lord!

Snape jumped up from his chair, holding his left forearm where the Dark Mark was hidden under his robes. His anger mixed with fear began to subside quickly as he controlled his emotions.

· I won't say the Name, Potter, because it could be a danger to me.

· Come on, what kind of danger? He wants to kill me, yet I've said his name a thousand times, and it didn't help that...

· You don't have the Dark Mark on your arm! snapped Snape. – Not only the Lord can call us through the Ticket, but we can also call him! When we say the Name, he always hears it.

Harry looked at the wizard silently, and finally just said: - I didn't know that...

· Of course you didn't know, Potter! Snape snapped at him. "I don't usually tell everyone about it."

Snape sat back in his chair and Harry waited a few seconds before asking again, "So, what's Tudjaki's plan?"

· We will talk about this later...

· No! said Harry boldly. "We'll talk about it now."

Snape looked at him like an eagle about to pounce. But - as it was not at all surprising for him - the emotions on his face again belied his thoughts.

"I see you still think you know better, don't you Potter?" Snape whispered. "One would think that you would have learned from the death of your dear godfather... that you would have learned to listen to your elders..."

"Don't try that," Harry interrupted again. "It's unnecessary." He can't annoy me anymore. Not after what happened in the tower. I've learned that there are only three people in the whole world I can trust—and they don't include you, and they don't even include the professor.

Snape listened with an expressionless face, which Harry found rather odd.

· So neither does the professor... - said the man quietly. "After all that, not even in it..."

· How could I trust him when he didn't even trust himself? Harry asked.

Snape looked at him in confusion for the first time. All of this only lasted a moment: -

Professor Dumbledore always had great insights and rock-solid plans. "I'm the best example, Potter," Snape pointed to himself. "No one else has been privy to the details about the Death Eaters..."

Something hit Harry in the head, and he said it right away.

· Tell me, did you read the letter the professor wrote to me?

· How would I have read it? Snape asked back.

Harry slowly smiled now. Snape's face remained expressionless.

"Interesting…" Harry muttered, then suddenly laughed. There was no joy in his laugh, just mockery.

This was more than enough for Snape.

· If you can't behave sensibly, we'll end the conversation!

· I'm laughing to myself, Snape! Harry replied cheekily. "You always thought you were the most valuable member of the Order of the Phoenix because Dumbledore shared his plans with you." It seems that the professor also knew that he was only good for that... To carry out orders.

Snape jumped up from his chair and looked at Harry with a horrified look. Harry also stood up and stared at Snape with a grin.

· How does it feel to follow orders forever, "Prince"? Harry scoffed. - Even with such a royal name, he was only good at jumping on Voldemort's orders, and now he was following Dumbledore's instructions. All your plans

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he told himself to carry them out himself, but it was no longer good for him to share his doubts with himself!

The words poured out of Harry. He felt like he could now pay back Snape for all the insults he had received from him over the years. Snape raised his wand menacingly, but she ignored him.

· You're just a tool, Snape! It was the same among the Death Eaters and it was the same in the Order, Harry continued. - He mocked Sirius for snooping around headquarters and not even understanding why Dumbledore kept him there. He went so far as to prove to everyone how special he was, that he was the key man of the Order of the Phoenix, right? Yet Dumbledore calmly sent himself into danger while trying to protect Sirius! Do you see it, Piggy? In war, we protect people, we use tools...!

POOF!

Snape ignored the wand and instead gave Harry a huge slap that made the boy see stars and lay flat on the ground. Harry wasn't laughing anymore, but the sneer was still visible on his face and he was determined that Snape wouldn't wipe it off.

· Faceless worm! If you dare make fun of me one more time, you will experience such agony that you will wish you were dead! Damn… you have no idea…!

Harry was lying on the floor looking at Snape fuming madly with satisfaction, while he searched his jeans pocket for Dumbledore's letter, which he always kept with him, even though he should have burned it a long time ago. He fished out the crumpled letter and handed it to Snape.

· Here, look! Harry said.

Snape tore the pages from his hands and examined them.

"It describes everything here," Harry explained. "If you didn't know what Dumbledore was like, you will now." Snape began to read frantically, his forehead furrowing.

· Dumbledore trusted himself and me. Just not by itself. And that was his biggest mistake.

He always relied on his mind, even when he should have listened to his heart… That's why they understood each other so well, right? Harry asked quietly, but there was no longer any mockery in his voice.

Snape continued reading, but now he stopped and looked at Harry.

· He shared his plans with you because he knew that you were thinking the same way he was. Snape left the statement without a word, and from that Harry knew he was right.

"You should have burned these pages a long time ago," warned Snape.

"I know…" Harry left. He didn't care too much about being careful at the moment.

Snape lit a fire with his wand and burned the pages of the letter one by one. There was nothing left behind but ashes.

Then he waved the wand and the ash flew out through the chimney and into the open air. It was no longer possible to compose the letter.

Harry picked himself up from the ground and went for his wand. He picked it up and put it in his pocket, while Snape watched him. Harry turned to him and they just stood. Neither of them said a word for long seconds. Harry didn't think about anything anymore, he just looked at the other. Calling the man an object filled him with relief, but he couldn't have known how it affected Snape. If he could explain it, he could easily tell how he felt by looking into the eyes of his former teacher.

There was a knock on the door—three loud knocks.

· Come in! Snape said, and the door opened immediately.

Draco Malfoy entered, followed by Peter Pettigrew. They both stopped at the door as if they had just been hit by a salt idol curse.

· My God, what happened here? Malfoy asked in shock as he looked around the ruined living room. Wormtail gaped like a beached fish.

"Ask Potter," Snape shrugged. Draco now noticed Harry, who was standing to his left with his hands in his pockets and his back against one of the cupboards. – Our guest got up with his left foot.

"Potter," greeted the blond Slytherin boy, putting on his usual superior grin. "Malfoy," Harry greeted back.

"Harry… it's a good thing…" Pettigrew muttered, though he probably realized immediately how helpless they were now. The last time Harry met his parents' former good friend, he killed Cedric Diggory and then stabbed him in the arm with a long knife. That's why Harry didn't say anything to him, just looked at him like nothing.

Draco Malfoy had changed a lot since Harry had seen him over half a year ago. The boy now had long blond hair that fell elegantly over his shoulders, just like his father, Lucius Malfoy. Since they were among muggles, she was not allowed to wear robes, and therefore her appearance was quite unusual for Harry. He wore a black jacket and trousers with a dark blue turtleneck, giving him the impression of a classy muggle.

· Didn't the gluehead cause any problems? he asked Snape with a grin, pointing at the blood dripping from the man's forehead and mouth.

· Mind your own business! Snape scolded him, but not like when he scolded Harry, much more leniently, almost tenderly.

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Pettigrew and Malfoy came in, startled by the initial surprise, then Pettigrew closed the door.

· Did you tell him the details? Draco inquired.

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. How long have these been around?

· Not yet. It's worth it, Snape replied.

· I thought we should hurry because he's coming the day after tomorrow...

"Yes, but they won't be here by then," Snape stated, and Draco nodded approvingly, then threw himself into the chair that Snape had been sitting in before.

"I don't like to interrupt the charms chat," said Harry, "but I want to see my friends." He thought there was no point in demanding information, because Snape wasn't going to answer unless he wanted to.

Draco snickered, but Snape waved at him before he fell silent. He also smiled, but nodded in agreement.

· It's okay, Potter. "Come on," he said, then started towards the fallen wardrobe. He stretched out the remains and stepped through the secret door. The stairs that led to the upper floor started right from the threshold. Snape took off with hurried steps, and Harry followed.

The stairs led up to the first floor with a turn, where a short corridor continued to a small window, which was gray from the dirt stuck to it. In the corridor, two doors to the right and left opened into rooms.

Snape used his wand to open the first door to the right and held it open for Harry. "Here's the pair," said Snape, pushing Harry through the door with a rough gesture. Hermione and Ron were sitting on the bed, looking unharmed to Harry's great relief.

· Harry! Oh, Harry! Hermione exclaimed when she saw him and immediately jumped on his neck.

· Are you okay? Ron asked worriedly as he noticed Harry grimacing in pain from Hermione's tight hug.

· Well, of course... - he quickly reassured his friends.

Hermione immediately released her friend and glared at Snape. However, Ron snorted mischievously when it dawned on him that his hated former teacher was not unscathed either. Over time, the blood dried on Snape's forehead, and his unfriendly expression became downright scary when he was angry. It was the same now: "If you've had a good time, Weasley, you can report

to Potter how long your pathetic patron lasted against the Dementors," growled Snape. "Your friend should be proud to have taught you how to survive against them—two seconds longer."

Ron's ears turned red, but Harry didn't let it go. - I will tell them

how much you meant to Dumbledore, Piggy! - he said before Hermione, who had already opened her mouth to hurl insults down the man's neck.

Snape didn't even have a chance to say anything else, because Harry slammed the door right in front of him. After that he turned to his friends.

"That's enough for today," he said. Then he fell tiredly on the bed clutching his side.

· What happened down there? Ron asked. "A few minutes ago we heard a rumble and an explosion..."

· Did you fight?

Harry nodded. He didn't wait for his friends to ask any more questions, he told them everything about what happened in the living room.

"You see, Snape is on our side," Hermione said when Harry finished his report. However, her two friends noticed that she did not say this with great enthusiasm.

· Or this is just a double-triple twisted trick to totally confuse everyone... - remarked Ron. Hermione didn't say anything, she didn't want to voice Dumbledore's opinion at all costs.

· Harry? Ron told him. "Who do you think…?"

· Whose side are you on? Harry leaned back. "I think on his own..."

"Either way, we'll find out soon enough," Hermione said. "If we go to Borgin & Burke and find one of the horcruxes, we'll find out whose party it is."

"Yeah…" Harry muttered, clutching his aching ribs.

"Wait," Hermione pulled Harry's wand from her pocket and pointed it at the boy's side. "It'll get better soon..."

The tip of the wand lit up, then went out, then lit up again. This was repeated a couple of times, and Harry's pain began to subside with it.

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully, then slid back on the bed and leaned his back against the wall.

Two of his friends did the

same. - And what should we do now? Ron asked.

· We are waiting

now. And they waited. For a long time, bored, sometimes staring at the street outside, sometimes at the wall or the ceiling. From below, only the pounding of shoes could be heard, and then suddenly Wormtail's

indignant shout: - What is it that I have to clean up?!

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Chapter 23

The conspiracy

Harry, Ron and Hermione's boring wait lasted until late at night. By the time the sun had disappeared behind the horizon and the gray street had fallen into darkness, Harry was beginning to feel like he had once in the Dursley house, when Uncle Vernon had locked him in the smallest room or earlier in the wardrobe under the stairs. He lurked alone in the dark for long hours, talking to his roommates and the spiders living in the closet for lack of company. Although the current situation was a little different, considering that Ron and Hermione were also here with him, Harry did not feel the impact of this in the least.

Both of his friends sat silently staring off into space as if they were suffering from some kind of Lovegood disease. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, and it was the only sound to break the silence for a long time.

· What's so funny? - asked Ron, who had been half-asleep for a long time, in such an annoying state, when one would most like to fall asleep, but no dream comes to his eyes, so he is forced to endure awake, with a clear mind, while the minutes of doing nothing fly by.

"Nothing," smiled Harry, and the conversation was over.

Hermione let out a barely audible grunt that she was alive and had already sunk back into silence.

Lovegood's disease… For the first time in a long time, Harry thought of the long blond haired, sleepy Luna, with whom he had become good friends over the past two years. What can she do now? And what can your other friends do? Neville, Ernie, Fred, George and Ginny. He didn't have to wonder long enough to know for sure that Fred and George were brainstorming some new invention in their apartment above their shop, Ernie Macmillan was probably still studying in the library until midnight, and Ginny, Luna and Neville were obviously sleeping the dreams of the righteous at Hogwarts. Maybe Hogwarts is a lot more peaceful now that he, Harry, isn't there. He remembered what Hagrid had told him about school when he was little. Hogwarts was an island of peace during the first war because Voldemort did not dare attack it. But from the moment he set foot in the school, everything changed.

Perhaps in a thousand years, Hogwarts has not experienced as many bizarre oddities, break-ins, accidents, series of assassinations, unrestrained destruction, murder, as it has in the last six years, just because he studied there. Even though Dumbledore was there, whom Voldemort was also afraid of, even he could not stop the chaos that Harry brought with him - and with which he dragged many of his friends with him.

He shouldn't dwell on this, he reminded himself. No one blames him for what happened. No one but himself.

There you go, it's back to where it was at Christmas. You have to keep reminding yourself not to overthink things, to be calm… Yes, but that's easier said than done.

The only thing that matters is that he is no longer at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is back to its old self.

There was a sound of footsteps - someone came up the stairs. This in itself would not be strange, since there were three other people living in this house besides them, but no one had come upstairs for the last eight hours, which greatly contributed to the melancholy of the three good friends.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione suddenly woke up from their half-sleep and waited impatiently to see if the owner of those legs would come to their room.

They were not to be disappointed, the door opened and a grinning image of Draco Malfoy appeared. Ron slumped back onto the bed in resignation.

· Did you expect anything else Weasley rat? Malfoy asked in a slow, drawn out style.

· Do you want something? Harry asked, not in the nicest of ways.

Malfoy frowned and came into the room. Behind him, a wooden tray floated in the air, with a few sandwiches and two jugs of pumpkin soup on it.

· Wormtail made dinner. If necessary, see to it. If not, I don't care...

The tray dropped onto the bedside table, but Harry and Ron didn't touch it. Disgusted looks were sent his way, purely out of mistrust, but Hermione didn't care about that sort of thing. He took a sandwich from the tray and started eating.

"Do you like rat meat, Granger?" Malfoy whined.

Hermione spat out the sandwich and went into a coughing fit. Malfoy laughed and Harry and Ron tried to help the drowning girl.

When Hermione stopped coughing, Malfoy was still wiping his eyes.

"I was just kidding, Granger," he said apologetically. "Can you imagine me feeding you rat meat?"

"I can imagine everything about you," Hermione answered and pushed the sandwich back onto the tray. His appetite is gone.

"Now that you've done the laundry, you can cover up," Ron said, looking like he'd like to try the goof charm on the blond boy.

· More politely, Weasley! Malfoy said. "It's not appropriate to talk to the hosts like that."

· Only with the filthy Death Eaters! Ron shot back.

A pink blush appeared on Malfoy's pale face, indicating that he really didn't like being addressed.

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· So what? Ron continued to tease. "Do you pull a wand?" Do you finally have the guts to do something, or have you always just talked about it?

· Shut up! Don't you dare talk to me like that...!

· Because what are you doing? Harry spoke up. He too had had enough of Malfoy. He didn't want to see his picture.

· Stop it! Hermione tried to quiet them down.

· Don't interfere, Granger! Malfoy's voice snapped. "A mudblood isn't going to tell you what he's doing-aaak…!"

Malfoy hadn't even finished the sentence, but he found himself hanging upside down in the room, his long blond hair sweeping the floor. Harry floated him by the heel, not forgetting to quickly disarm him.

He mentally praised himself for being able to perform a combination spell so accurately.

However, Malfoy didn't praise him, he hurled assorted curses and curses at him, and Ron laughed merrily.

Hermione stood beside him speechless and a little pale - perhaps she realized that it was unnecessary to act as a peacemaker between the quarrelers.

"It's time you learned not to call anyone a mudblood, Malfoy!" Harry shouted over the blond boy's swearing monologue.

"I think he's too busy to pay attention to you…" Ron commented with a laugh, watching Malfoy's frantic floundering.

· Get down! Get off because you'll regret it, you…!

· I asked, did you understand? Harry asked forcefully, but Malfoy continued to struggle. "I don't think our old friend could do with a lesson in politeness, do you Ron?"

· Of course - the interviewee nodded with a laugh.

"Harry…don't do it," Hermione muttered in confusion, but Harry ignored her.

Malfoy raised his wand to his ankle and made a small loop in the air with it. The boy began to spin slowly in the air like a hummingbird, and then it got faster and faster. - Aaaah! Put me down! Put

me down! Malfoy moaned.

Harry watched the boy with satisfaction and had no intention of letting him down. Harry crouched down to be in line with Malfoy's face and spoke to him like this: - Do

you know what vulnerability feels like, Malfoy? Harry said. "I thought you learned something about vulnerability after doing Voldemort's bidding… But it seems you can only learn the hard way."

Malfoy spun faster and faster in the air. Hermione looked at him in horror with her hand over her mouth. Harry knew it brought back the memory of seeing them at the Quidditch World Cup camp many years ago. Harry remembered this too - that's when he heard about Death

Eaters for the first time - Nooo! - the boy

-, that was why he wanted to teach Malfoy a lesson like this.

begged and fumbled around with his hands to grab onto something, but he didn't achieve anything.

· Malfoy! Harry told him. "Promise you'll never call anyone a mudblood again!"

The answer came almost immediately.

· Y-okay, fine… I promise… just get off!

Harry slowed and then stopped the spin, and finally the Malfoy boy flipped in the air and landed on his bottom on the floor. The dizziness made him unable to stand straight on his feet, so he sprawled on the floor and panted like a beached fish.

Hermione turned her head away, but Ron looked at Malfoy with satisfaction. As did Harry, who, however, began to suspect that he would hear some unsolicited words from Hermione about the impromptu lesson.

· Potter, you can't handle yourself again? - came a voice from the door.

Snape stood there with arms crossed; Harry had the impression that he hadn't just arrived.

"I told you to be careful with Potter, Draco," said Snape and bent down to the dark boy. He reached under his arm and lifted her into a sitting position. "How were you last time..." he shook his head and pulled out his wand. He conjured tiny orbs of light that disappeared one after the other in Malfoy's ears. The boy got better as a result, he was visibly no longer dizzy and was able to stand up on his own. He glared at Harry and Ron, who were no longer grinning, his face glowing red with shame. Hermione stared at her shoes.

Snape turned back to them now. - I

was just about to return your wands, but if you are unable to calm down... "We've calmed down," Ron grumbled.

Snape slowly looked over the three of them and then nodded.

· Correct. You are not here to settle old grievances…

· Is that what you're saying?! Harry growled. Snape's two-toned words directly hurt his ears.

· Don't take my word for it!

This is incredible! Harry raged to himself. How can someone be so duplicitous?! He talks about clearing grievances, while he wanted to kill those who humiliated him in his childhood!

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· Here they are... - he returned the wands to each of them one by one. "Put it away." It won't be needed here. Neither today nor tomorrow.

Ron looked at him doubtfully, but seeing Harry and Hermione, he calmly pocketed the returned magic tool. Malfoy looked like a sulking preschooler and stood with his arms folded against the door frame. Harry didn't care. He had been upset enough about Malfoy in the past six years and he didn't want to deal with it anymore. Anyway, who cares about Malfoy? Harry thought. "He's just an insignificant one."

little nobody…

"You seem to enjoy using my spells, Potter," snapped Snape. "Levicorpus… if good." i remember

Harry nodded slowly. He had seen the same strange look in Snape's eyes when he had used the Sectumsempra spell on Malfoy in one of the boys' toilets at Hogwarts last year.

"I'm not surprised," continued the wizard. "When I was a Hogwarts student, the spells I created spread quickly..." Harry couldn't help but notice how dignified Snape pronounced the word "created".

"I don't know a single one," Draco interjected from the door, his face showing signs of envy. You may have noticed how strange Snape's attitude is to Harry Potter knowing his spells while he doesn't know any.

Snape looked over his shoulder at Malfoy and his mouth curled into a clearly visible smile. Harry and Ron stole glances at each other and both wore expressions of disgust.

"She's almost as full of herself as Francica!" Harry muttered to himself.

· Really? Snape asked Malfoy. "That's strange... But your father knew them well." When I entered the ranks of the Death Eaters when I was young, Aurora told the grass and the trees what spells I knew.

Soon my peers learned them too.

Malfoy blinked profusely and wrapped his arms tighter.

· Who is Au…? Hermione started but couldn't finish. - And how does

Potter know these anyway? Malfoy asked with the hurt now audible in his voice.

Snape turned back to Harry and grinned at him. After a few seconds, he nodded his head, encouraging Harry to speak.

"I read it in a book," he told Malfoy. "He scribbled them in his old book of Potions for the advanced." But I don't understand why he left?

· he looked up questioningly at Snape, who was still a good head taller than him.

The answer did not come immediately either; Snape was either waiting or thinking about old memories, but nothing could be read from his face. He was no longer smiling as he had been a few moments before. He could control his emotions to such an extent that it was downright scary.

"I never wanted to keep the knowledge to myself, Potter," he answered finally. - Although most of the time I chose whom and what I taught, at that time I think I was tempted by the uncertainty that the book would end up in the hands of an unknown person. I can't explain exactly how much I left behind in the potion-drenched ceremony... I wouldn't do such a thing today.

Harry and Ron listened to Snape's words in silence, as did Malfoy. Hermione, on the other hand, asked a question that had already been bothering her the previous year: - In that

book, he called himself a Half-Blood Prince - said the girl. "But if he joined the Death Eaters, why did he call himself a half-blood?"

· Of course, Granger, because I'm a half-blood! snapped Snape. "My mother was a golden blood, but my father is a muggle." Do you have any other silly questions like this?

Hermione was visibly taken aback by how much the question upset the wizard, but tried to ignore it.

"No… that's not what I meant…" Hermione muttered. "I just…" Ron finished the question for him: -

Why did he claim to be a half-blood if he made others mud blood?

· Maybe because everything the young Death Eaters testified to was all self-deception and lies? Snape asked enigmatically.

"So… you're not…" Harry began stuttering. "Then why did you call others mudbloods?"

Harry vividly remembered the memory he had seen in the Nightingale where the young Severus Snape had called Lily, Harry's mother, a mudblood, despite her trying to protect him from James Potter and Sirius.

"Because it's an insult," answered Snape in a self-explanatory tone. "If I wanted to offend someone, I did it the way I wanted to."

As she spoke, she looked firmly into Harry's eyes, as if she were speaking specifically to him. Harry read the message in her eyes: don't you dare tell anyone about what you saw in the Contemplation!

Malfoy listened to the conversation with interest. His facial expression showed that he was hearing new things now, and it was also clear to Harry that his former classmate certainly had a completely different opinion about the mud bloodletting.

"The other Death Eaters don't think so," Harry voiced his opinion.

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"That's their business," Snape waved nonchalantly. – As I have already mentioned, I have always tried to stay on the ground of reasonableness.

The conversation sat again for long seconds, and Harry, after catching Hermione's telling look, thought it was time to steer the conversation on new paths.

· Willing to finally tell you what they know? Harry asked, hoping he wouldn't get another rejection now. "If you're willing to listen and don't ask stupid questions, yes," answered Snape.

Like Malfoy, he stood with his arms crossed, but he was pacing up and down the room. Harry wondered if Snape had been this excitable before or if this was a new habit he had picked up.

· How much do you really know about the Master's plans? he asked and stopped walking. "Not much…" Harry admitted. "I guess he has plans for the giants and the dementors." Snape smiled faintly.

· So you don't know anything... - he whispered. "Indeed, he has called giants to the country, to the north, he is gathering them on an island." They believe that the Lord's goals include creating equality and giving them rights - but of course this is a lie.

· How many are there? Harry cooed. - About

twenty or thirty - came the answer. (Ron whistled softly) – They follow the Lord's orders in everything and they are not the type to be easily persuaded. Not at all with such a Ministry. The Dark Lord uses the power of giants and dementors to achieve his goals, but only to the extent that he uses Inferius. No, Potter, the Lord has plans that he only shares with his most trusted...

· With the First? Harry asked, ignoring Snape's disapproving look or his earlier warning. "It's you, isn't it?"

· Yes, at the moment I am the First Death Eater, that is, his confidant - answered Snape. "Therefore, I know about the war plans aimed at the final defeat of the Ministry of Magic."

Harry somersaulted onto his stomach. The final breaking of the Ministry? Would Voldemort be that strong? He glanced at his two friends, who must have been having similar thoughts.

"Tell me the war plan," Hermione asked excitedly, but Snape smiled and shook his head.

"I don't want to tell you," said Snape.

· And why? snapped Ron angrily. "Or won't you tell me that?" Don't expect us to blindly trust you like Dumbledore!

Snape's face was distorted by the poison and he opened his mouth to roughly scold Ron, but Hermione didn't let him speak: - He's

afraid of exposing himself to Voldemort, isn't he?

Either because of the question or the pronunciation of the lord's name, but Snape didn't start yelling, he quickly regained his composure.

"I see you're in the right place, Granger," he muttered softly, then wrapped his arms around her again. "If I tell you what the Lord is planning, you'll immediately run to tell dear Lupin and old fool Mordon." And the Lord will know that only I could have told them that.

· Why would you suspect yourself? Harry asked. "You're the First, you wouldn't suspect yourself." There are a thousand ways the Phoenixes could find out, not sure...

"As I said, Potter, the Lord knows that I am the only one who knows his long-term war plans," Snape interrupted, shifting

his weight from one leg to the other. "That's not entirely true, because I told three other people in case something happened to me."

As for the Dark Lord's suspicions, well…that's about to change about me.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were silent. Standing at the door, Malfoy looked a little more restless than a few minutes ago, fiddling nervously with his hand on the door frame. "That's

what I wanted to talk to you about," Snape continued. – If a Death Eater becomes First for some reason, the Lord will soon assign him another task – a confidential task at that. My job is to find you and kill you, he said without batting an eye.

Harry held back the urge to blink even for a moment; However, Hermione and Ron kept their mouths open. Snape grinned darkly and took a few steps in front of them.

· Since I used dementors to capture you - on the express advice of the Lord, the news th-,at I tracked you down would surely reach his ears. So I took the only sensible course of action: I told him I was successful.

· What?! Ron exclaimed.

Snape ignored him and continued talking.

· He will come here tomorrow to see for himself, you must leave by then. I tell him I failed and you escaped.

"He won't praise himself..." Harry's comment slipped out of his mouth.

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"I know," said the man with a straight face. "But I have no reason to fear for my life." Of course, I will lose my position of trust, I will no longer be First. That is why it would be risky for me if the Order of the Phoenix thwarted the Lord's plans.

Hermione began to fidget uneasily.

· Then... then we are forced to let the Ministry fail. Right? he looked up at Snape. Ron swallowed audibly.

"Not necessarily," came the optimistic answer from Snape. "If we hurry, we can destroy the Great Lord before that happens."

Harry snapped his head up. Finally! After a long time, these are the words he really wanted! If Snape says they can destroy the Horcruxes in time, then there is hope.

· Did you talk to yourself about Horcruxes? Initiated?

"He knows I know about them, but he hasn't told me where they are," Snape answered. - So he didn't tell me... But I already found a clue.

Countless questions began to flood Harry's mind, yet he wasn't the one to ask the first one.

· Is your snake really a horcrux? Ron wondered.

· Yes, it is, I checked. It won't be a problem if I can destroy it at any time, but it would have to be done without the Lord knowing about it. So I can't do it, then you have to do it…" Snape looked at Harry, "or someone else to make it look like self-defense. We must not draw his attention to the fact that anyone specifically wanted to destroy the snake.

Harry, Ron and Hermione and even Draco nodded. Harry had only just noticed that Draco had stayed here and was hearing all about Horcruxes and plans. Snape would have ordered him out if he didn't want him to hear about these things, Harry warned himself mentally. One thing's for sure: Dumbledore didn't plan the Horcrux hunt that way.

Harry finally asked what concerned him the most: - And the unknown horcrux?

"That's what I've heard the most about," answered Snape, bu-,t even that's not enough to know for sure what it's about. It once belonged to Hollóháti, and it is also certain that he has it now...

· Vol... sorry. Do you know? Harry quickly corrected himself. "He said he had plans for him," Snape nodded.

Harry frowned.

· What kind of plans can you have with a horcrux?

· He has a plan with every Horcrux, Potter! Snape warned, holding up a long index finger. "He had a plan for the muggle diary, the goblet and the locket too – and he's going to use the snake too."

Harry thought it over and had to admit that it was indeed the case. The purpose of the diary was to reopen the Chamber of Secrets and bring Hogwarts under Voldemort's rule; the serpent's to serve him; the pendant and the hidden goblet were good for keeping Voldemort alive if his body was destroyed. Perhaps this is also the purpose of the unknown? But they don't know anything for sure yet...

· What else did he tell you? Harry inquired. "There must be something else!"

Snape paused again, but now his face was filled with contemplation and – not so characteristic of him – uncertainty.

· There is someone... - he began, and ran his long finger over his mouth again. "A person unknown to me, who is almost certain to have come under the power of one of the Horcruxes."

The Harrys looked at Snape in shock, then Hermione instinctively glared at Ron. - Like Ron's sister? he asked. "Like Ginny when she was bewitched by Tom Denem's diary?"

"Yes, exactly," Snape replied. "But I know almost nothing about it and I've never seen it before." He is personally in touch with the Lord, he reports to him... but about what, I absolutely do not know.

When he saw Harry, Ron and Hermione looking at him with eager expectant faces, he continued. - I believe that he may be an employee of the ministry or a person in another important position.

· What makes you think that? Harry asked.

· During one of our conversations - to be exact, when he questioned me about the information I obtained from Dumbledore - he hinted that he had put a Horcrux in "battle order", so to speak, so that he could take over power as soon as possible. Since there were no longer any Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic, he probably felt it necessary to take control. But he doesn't tell anyone about this...

Harry thought of a possibility and his mind was working wildly to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but as always, Hermione was faster than him, "Haven't you heard of a man

called Marcus Leonard?" he asked.

· No.

"That's weird…" Hermione muttered. "Leonard was an Auror sent by the Ministry after Harry." Perhaps they hoped that if they followed Harry, he could lead them to the Death Eaters. But Leonard disappeared a few weeks ago. They wrote in the Morning Prophet that they believe he was kidnapped by Death Eaters.

"There really was such an article," Malfoy remarked.

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Snape thought and paced in silence for a while, then spoke again.

· That's possible. Because I haven't heard of him being kidnapped by Death Eaters. If he was under the influence of a horcrux, he didn't even have to be kidnapped. But that doesn't explain why they're considered missing...

Harry was struck by Snape's bewilderment and immediately put it into words.

· If he registered with that letter, how come he doesn't know who Leonard is? Snape looked up and stopped pacing.

"With that letter, I was only searching your mind for Horcruxes, Potter," he explained to Harry, snapping him out of his thoughts. – A certain topic triggers a certain emotional state in a person and I was only interested in what you learned about soul pieces. That's how I found out that last night the

you went into ministry with Muriel Prewett.

Harry didn't like the idea of how much of his thoughts Snape was seeing, but he was a little comforted now knowing that he was only watching what he needed to.

"I'll note that you dream about these things worryingly a lot," he looked sharply into Harry's eyes. "You didn't take Occlumency seriously at all, did you?"

"Not really..." Harry admitted.

"Typical," said the wizard in a crushing voice.

· Why does this matter? Harry blurted out. "Vol... Who knows, you've already Occlumified against me, you don't just want to..."

Harry fell silent as he remembered the November waking dream that Voldemort had sent him. He realized how stupid he had been to forget about that incident lately and not even tell Snape about it.

Snape didn't pay any attention to him as Harry suddenly fell silent, instead he used the opportunity to break him down. "Occlumency is a necessary defense of the mind, Potter!" he grumbled unhappily. "The director wanted you to be able to close your

mind, and the truth was that I couldn't even teach you that!" No one can learn Occlumency, you can only achieve it yourself if you follow the advice. I already told you my advice during the first session, but you are too stupid and stupid to learn from yourself..!

"Who knows who spoke to me," interrupted Harry, and Snape immediately fell silent. What's more, Malfoy, who had been watching the destruction with lustful pleasure, had turned quite pale. "You didn't see that either, did you?"

Snape didn't answer, but his full attention was on Harry.

And Harry reported the threatening words echoing in his head. Oh, if you only knew… I have won! Final victory…

· Don't you know what he could be referring to? Hermione asked.

"I have no idea," Snape admitted, but he could tell that he was troubled by what he heard.

Is that all you can say? Harry grumbled to himself. He had heard as much from Dumbledore before... Snape gave Harry a rude look to indicate that he didn't like the disdain he could feel from Harry.

There was silence in the room, a long silence. There was no noise from the outside world, but the blue neon light of the record store across the street contrasted sharply with the flickering candles that lit the room.

"We'll get to that," said Hermione finally. "The first thing we do is the glass."

"Granger is right," Snape allowed. "Don't bother with the further investigation, because you would only put yourself in danger." You can attract the attention of other Death Eaters. - What do they know about these? Harry

inquired. "About the prophecy, the horcruxes?"

· Almost nothing about horcruxes, and as much about prophecy as the Lord. He initiated all Death Eaters into this, but of course they only know as much as they have been interrogated by…

· I mean, as much as you interrogated! Harry snapped with renewed anger.

Snape was speechless again, apparently not expecting Harry to realize this. In the end, he just said: - So you've heard about that too.

Harry huffed in anger, but tried to keep his temper under control.

· Yes, he squeezed the word out. "Trelawney said that he himself was listening at the door at the time."

If he had been in a calmer state of mind, Harry would have seen the gray mask of grief on Snape's face, but his rage boiled unstoppably in his heart, drowning out everything else.

"I have no excuse," he answered simply. "This is one of the crimes I committed while serving the Lord."

Ron snorted disdainfully.

"All I can say, Potter, is that I paid the same price for it as you did."

Same price? Harry thought. Of course! Don't fall for him, old man, he's just a dirty Death Eater, even if he's smarter than the rest!

Harry was seized with immeasurable disgust, and he could no longer hide this from the people present in the room. Snape didn't curse at him like he usually did when Harry looked at him like a pile of dung, he just clasped his hands behind his back and continued walking.

And Harry continued to hate him silently. How obvious that Snape and Voldemort are exactly the same! - he thought and would have preferred to spit on the dark figure in front of him. Voldemort only fears for his own life and Snape is no different. He believes that because Voldemort betrayed him and almost killed him, he has already paid the price for his parents' deaths.

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Nope, you haven't paid everything yet! But he, Harry, would take care of it. Not yet, after the fall of Voldemort... Then it will be Snape's turn!

Ron and Hermione settled for silence as Hermione cleared her throat loudly and then Ron steered the conversation in new directions. - And how much

does Tudjaki know...? he asked. "You mean do you know we know what's up with the horcruxes or not?"

· The Dark Lord does not know that you know his secret - Snape enlightened them. - I suggested to him during my report that Dumbledore thought Potter was too immature to tell these facts and instead initiated me. Since the Lord had already realized that Dumbledore had not told you important things about the prophecy, he believed every word I said.

· When are we going to get the glass? Hermione asked excitedly.

"Soon," Snape beckoned for patience, without any insult. "A lot of things have to be smoothed out in front of him so that the Lord and the other Death Eaters don't get suspicious." First, I need to distract Borgin with something - that old man hardly ever leaves his shop.

Then we have to organize the meeting, that too without being noticed, and finally we have to get into the laboratory. Once inside, the biggest challenge awaits us: we have to deal with the Dark Lord's protective spells. Although I have studied Potter's memories of his experiences in the cave, I am afraid my knowledge alone will be insufficient for this.

Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't add anything to what they heard, rather they tried not to think about what kind of horrors that secret laboratory could be full of.

Snape started walking again, made a circle in front of them, then turned back to them with sudden determination.

"I admit, I underestimated you," he said, surprising the three good friends. "And it's not the first time I've made this mistake." You did a great job on the medallion and the glass. It seems that Professor Dumbledore was right after all - you are useful…

· So you didn't trust him blindly either! Harry said slyly.

Snape looked at him blankly, as he always did when he found truth in a statement.

"I had certain... reservations," he stated emotionlessly. "But that doesn't change anything!" - changed to a commanding, harsh accent. "You act when I say, and you only do what I say, is that clear?"

He waited for Harry, Ron and Hermione to each nod in agreement. It was on Harry's mind that instead of desperate bewilderment, his days would now be filled with impatient anticipation and the not at all comforting thought that Severus had put the fate of the war's outcome in Snape's hands.

"Right," Snape ended the conversation and turned his back on them. Malfoy hurriedly backed out of the room and was already gone, but Snape turned back from the door.

· Tomorrow morning, we will discuss what to do next, once the others have arrived. The upstairs bedrooms are yours. He waited again for the Harrys to nod.

· I won't lock the door, but you can only walk around the house - (another nod). - I do not recommend that you put your feet on the street without my permission!

He left with it.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other uneasily. Although Harry was still burning with terrible hatred and determination that he would end Snape after Voldemort, ("Yes, he's earned it a thousand times over!" he convinced himself) he also knew that he would have to get rid of this feeling for a long time from now. He couldn't let it distract him from his task, as Hermione had so wisely noted earlier – Harry was forced to admit her truth again. He can't deal with the Ministry, the goblin rebellion, or Snape's penance. - Have you noticed that we barely know more than before? Ron asked at once.

"However, that thing about the possessed person and the working horcrux is quite alarming..." remarked Hermione. Harry and Ron proved him right.

· But at least that means the horcrux is in the country... - the girl continued her brainstorming. - It's strange that he didn't even hide a single one abroad.

· Aha.

"And it's also strange how tight-lipped Voldemort was with Snape," Ron muttered in disbelief. "I mean, he killed Dumbledore and everything." Has Voldemort dealt with the only person he ever feared and what will he get in return? A stupid title about some First Death Eater, and empty words...

Hermione frowned.

"You mean Snape wasn't being completely honest with us?" he asked uncertainly.

· Of course! the boy stated firmly. "You heard him, he told us to our face that he had no intention of telling us about Voldemort's plans." He is the confidant of...

· Oh, don't fall for that text! Harry chimed in. "It's just a hoax." Voldemort has no confidantes, not even the so-called 'First'… Dumbledore told me about that. Never to Voldemort

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he had friends and never wanted one. Those who thought they were his friends were seriously mistaken. Snape's position of "trust" comes with only one thing, that much is clear: if he makes a mistake, he will not be punished as heavily as the others.

"Speaking of the others," Ron interrupted. "Who are the other conspirators?" Snape didn't talk about them. Harry shrugged.

· He didn't even tell me the list, he only mentioned Malfoy and Pettigrew. "Perhaps Malfoy's mother might still be in it," suggested Hermione.

· Who might be afraid of Voldemort? Ron thought aloud.

Harry also went deep in his thoughts searching for names, but Hermione's memory proved to be exceptional again.

· The one named Avery... - he guessed uncertainly. "Voldemort tortured him for getting bad information from him, don't you remember?" He looked at Harry's bewildered face. "Ron told me you dreamed about him." I remember because I had to pass it on to Dumbledore.

Harry nodded. He remembered the incident now: it was one of those distressing visions he found himself in Voldemort's head, he even felt as if he was Voldemort himself. In a hidden corner of Harry's mind, he thought that under the current circumstances, he might even be able to tolerate these dreams if he could get inside information about the Death Eater camp. Well... Snape didn't prove to be a useful enough source of news, he thought bitterly and grimaced.

Ron lazily sat back on the bed he'd been sitting on since Malfoy and Snape had left, fiddling with his shoes. "We'll see what happens tomorrow," Ron muttered with closed eyes. - let's sleep now.

Harry agreed deeply, and after saying goodbye to Ron and Hermione, he staggered into the opposite room, which was an exact twin of the previous one, with the same iron-framed bed, rickety bedside table, and even a lone reaper spider weaving its web in the same place where it was in the other room. . After Harry rolled on the creaking bed with his clothes on, he didn't sleep for a long time, and he was sure that no one else had left the bedroom opposite after him.

The other Death Eaters arrived the next morning. The Harrys were waiting for them in the living room along with the other three residents. The Harrys mostly only spoke to Snape - Malfoy only gave him a look of disdain and more caution since the incident the night before when their eyes met; Harry, Ron, and Hermione all felt that Pettigrew was beneath their dignity, even if they could even blink at Pettigrew.

However, even the few words exchanged with Snape ended in three rude "good mornings", a few "are they coming yet?" and the more and more repeated "when can we go to hell?" in sentences. The answers he received didn't sound too polite either, and after the two hours of boring waiting and questioning after the forced wake-up at 6 in the morning, Harry only wanted unfriendly hand gestures every time Snape or Malfoy turned their backs on him.

At eight o'clock there were the first knocks on the door. Snape approached the door measuredly and let in the first guest: Narcissa Malfoy.

· Cissy! Snape greeted the woman with long blond hair, who had regained some of her old skin since the last time Harry had seen her in Madam Malkin's tailoring, but still looked depressingly pale compared to a healthy person.

· Severus! - the woman smiled at the man, then her gaze fell on the people in the room. His eyes lingered on his son for a moment, then looked at Harry and the others. Finally, after a fleeting handshake, Snape stepped aside and she hurried into the house.

The scene that unfolded for the three good friends was more than unusual: Draco, as soon as he saw his mother at the door, immediately jumped up from the armchair where he had been curled up like a cold corpse, and now he went to Narcissa with hasty, determined steps and hugged her.

Harry didn't know what to expect. He was surprised to see such a human gesture from the two hated enemies (despite all his common sense, he thought of them as enemies), then he was surprised to realize his own astonishment. What did he expect? For some silly Death Eater cryptic handshake? Or how they bow to each other, showing the Dark Mark? Finally, he marveled at his own stupidity and had to realize that Draco Malfoy, the obnoxious, hated boy he had known for six years, was still a man, even if an evil one.

By the time he snapped out of his own thoughts, Malfoy had already politely given his place to his mother, who was now lamenting how much her son had lost weight and that he must not be eating properly. Harry glanced at Ron, who was leaning against the wall next to him, who made a similarly surprised face, and then at Hermione, who, however, was staring objectively at the guest and Draco Malfoy.

The next guest arrived a few minutes after Narcissa, his arrival signaled by three strong knocks on the door.

· Snape - a deep voice sounded as the fat Death Eater who entered nodded measuredly. "Bulstrode," Snape greeted with the same distance.

Oh no! Harry wondered to himself. So Millicent Bulstrode's father is also a Death Eater. Harry wondered how many Slytherins had Death Eater relatives? Maybe for all of them... - Teszlek Süveg reminded himself

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manipulation. But it seems Voldemort didn't do such a good job if these people all want him dead.

Mr. Bulstrode stomped into the house and he, too, took a quick glance at the three good friends before sitting down on the sofa.

· Mrs. Malfoy! The fat man bowed in his seat. "I'm glad to see your favor..." - I'm glad too, Barnard.

Harry deduced from the distant greeting that Mr Bulstrode and Mrs Malfoy hardly knew each other.

According to them, the man might be new to the Death Eaters - if only for the reason that Harry didn't remember hearing the name Bulstrode in the graveyard when Voldemort's followers who escaped Azkaban had gathered again after thirteen years.

However, he knew the third arrival, and very well. Marcus Flint, who looked like a gorilla, entered the door.

· Mr. Snape! He called and I came - growled the boy, barely twenty years old, in his deep voice, who, however, looked much older than his age with his unkempt mustache and bushy eyebrows.

"That's right, Flint, and I'm sure you know why you had to come," answered Snape and invited him inside. arrival.

"Um… well, neither do I…" he then spotted the Harrys. "Yeah… because of them."

Harry and his two friends didn't say hello to Flint, nor did he bother to waste more than a grimace on unnecessary politeness.

Flint didn't sit down next to Mr. Bulstrode, but he did shake hands with the man, then Malfoy, and he too bowed to Narcissa.

We had to wait a little longer for the next person; five, then ten minutes, a quarter of an hour passed, and Snape looked up more and more at the ticking clock on the shelf of one of the cupboards. Finally, after a good twenty minutes, they knocked again.

Harry and Ron recognized the ticket instantly, even though they had only seen a picture of it once in the Morning Prophet. They couldn't forget it easily. It was written in the newspaper that he is one of the cruelest Death Eaters of all time: - Wildung, you have arrived too -

Snape greeted the newcomer in a dispassionate voice.

Valter Wildung entered the room with a grim nod and immediately filled the room with his presence. He was a tall man, well over two meters, and his black hair, combed back, added to the effect. His brown skin was shaven, and a long cut crossed his face from the corner of his mouth to his eye, reminding the wearer of a cruel injury. Harry remembered it, he had spoken to the particular person to whom Wildung owed the scar…

The man was wearing dark blue robes, and underneath he wore a classy wizard's outfit with a wide belt, the kind Professor Dumbledore used to wear. Around her neck she wore a tiny blue, teardrop-shaped gem on a silver chain. Harry shuddered: Wildung just oozed the cold.

Everyone, even Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, looked tense. Mr Bulstrode shook his big fat head around nervously, and Marcus Flint bent manically as Wildung marched past him. Snape didn't show the slightest sign that he was uncomfortable with the guest, he didn't even care. Wildung didn't sit down either, he stood at the opposite end of the room from Harry and looked at the others with an inquisitive expression.

The click of a lock was heard, then a sound like the rolling of a wooden ball: the curtain rod came to life and darkened the tiny window, which already had little light. Snape closed his eyes and turned to them.

"Now that everyone has arrived…" he began, but his words were drowned out by loud snorts from Ron and Harry.

· Could this be the huge conspiracy? Harry provoked them in a sarcastic voice. "Six men and a rat?"

He couldn't believe that Snape thought this was anything more than some stupid joke to make him giggle. However, since Snape had no known sense of humor, this opportunity was lost, so Harry was forced to be indignant instead of laughing. Hermione made a shocked face as well, and Ron looked up at the ceiling.

Flint didn't leave it at that.

· If you don't like it, Potter, try it alone and you can easily die!

· Kill me instead! - retorted Ron, raising his wand menacingly.

Flint also flicked his wand.

· What about Weasley, come on! I'm about to cut that big mouth of yours even wider!

· Stop it! snapped Snape, before Flint and Ron, who had caught up with him in height, could jump at each other.

Wildung looked on with an impassive face, as if he were on a pleasant family outing.

The quarrelers lowered their wands, Flint first, and then Ron, with which Harry deeply agreed.

· I don't expect you, Potter, to understand all the details of the conspiracy and the work I used to build it all, with your pathetic mental abilities - snapped Snape angrily, but you will finally learn to shut up when I spea-,k!

Harry glared at Snape but he didn't care anymore. He addressed his words to the company again.

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· First of all, I would introduce everyone to each other - he said. - They all know Narcissa and know how much she sacrificed in the service of the Dark Lord, so please forgive Cissy, but I would move on right away - if I don't offend you.

Narcissa nodded with a smile and Snape turned to Mr Bulstrode.

· Mr Barnard Bulstrode, an employee of Obskurus Publishing... - Mr Bulstrode nodded to everyone present. - He has been a member of the Death Eaters since last March, the Dark Lord blackmailed him with his daughter because he was reluctant to openly distance himself from him. You know his daughter Millicent, right? he asked Harry, Ron and Hermione who nodded.

· Mr. Bulstrode does not look favorably on the release of dementors on the population, so he began to look for those who share his views among the followers of the Dark Lord.

The fat man smiled jovially – Harry couldn't have imagined a more pious man as a Death Eater.

However, Mr Bulstrode's hatred of Dementors had already grown in his eyes. Will it turn out in the end that this conspiracy is good for something? he asked himself.

Meanwhile, Snape already introduced Marcus Flint to the others, about whom he only said that he had joined the Death Eaters a year ago and wanted to be released as soon as possible. For Harry, this desire of Flint's was rather ridiculous and he remembered what Sirius had said about Death Eaters: they either serve their master forever or die.

"You all know Draco and Wormtail anyway, so I wouldn't waste any more words on you..." Snape said lazily and waited for Draco to nod immediately, and a little later, Pettigrew as well.

· Valter Wildung, one of the Dark Lord's first and most distinguished students - he pointed to Wildung, who gave no sign that he was aware of the introduction and the first First. Mr. Wildung is not a Death E-,ater, he does not wear the Dark Mark, but he has known the Great Lord for a long time, and has traveled with him on part of his journeys - that is why he was able to provide us with a lot of useful information.

Whoops! Harry thought. One of Voldemort's first sole lickers. It's strange that he ended up among the conspirators. Does Snape know what he's doing?

As if answering Harry's question, Snape continued: - Mr. Wildung

can help us find the weapon, for the reasons already mentioned. He has personal motives for plotting against the Dark Lord.

Harry frowned but tried not to look either of them in the eye. So Snape tells them they're looking for a weapon.

· What are the personal motives? asked Ron, who was watching Wildung nervously the whole time. "What part of personal do you not understand, Weasley?" snapped Malfoy.

· Just because you lick the soles of everyone who has anything to do with Death Eaters, still...

· Enough! Snape snapped at them, preventing another argument.

"I've heard this personal slur before," Harry grumbled into Snape's image, "but I won't take it again." Speak! Harry ordered, looking into the ice cold eyes of the blue robed man.

Wildung smiled, the cut on his face distorting his expression into an alarming grimace.

· Everyone has their secrets, Chosen One - said the man for the first time since his arrival. His voice was raspy, strong, like that of an alcoholic bar singer. – And it is typical of secrets that we keep them to ourselves, no matter how much this hinders trust.

Harry didn't take his eyes off of him, he didn't care that he was most likely going to legimate him. Finally, Wildung turned his gaze away and began to look around the room again. He examined one face after another with completely indifferent interest.

Snape spoke as he did so. He directed his words to the new arrivals, informing them about the laboratory (where a piece of some kind of mysterious weapon is located) and they discussed, mostly Flint, Malfoy and Bulstrode, how to lure Borgin out of the Pickpockets' inner shop. Hermione was watching and taking note of every word that was said, Harry had no doubt about that.

Ron, on the other hand, just kept looking at Walter Wildung, and there was no goodwill in his eyes.

Harry guessed why Ron was so upset by the man's arrival: according to what was written in the Morning Prophet, Wildung was a sadistic muggle hunter who also hunted wizards and witches of muggle origin. Snape has recruited a serial killer into the conspirators' camp and is talking about Voldemort's destruction in his ear.

Complete madness! How could everything collapse in such a short time? He, Harry, kept everything a secret for months even from his best friends and acquaintances and had long arguments with himself, only to trick some of them into Professor Dumbledore's plans. And Snape pretty much trumpets the whole thing to the world, and even he is called irresponsible!

"Did you listen, Potter?" Snape asked sharply as he looked at her again.

"Yeah, of course," answered Harry reflexively, although he had no idea what Snape was talking about.

Snape started puffing himself up again to knock Harry down, but Harry didn't let him start his 'careless, stupid kid, Potter' monologue.

· Have you finished the story, Snape? Harry inquired. - Because if so, then we would leave already... - Oh,

am I boring the dignified gentleman? he snarled with a scathing sneer. "Of course, they can leave right away, but before that you come here and sit on this chair!"

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Snape conjured a plain, plain chair, then grabbed Harry's arm and pushed him down onto it. Ron immediately stepped closer, wand in hand.

· There will be no need for that, Weasley! Snape waved. "We're just taking care of safety."

He conjured another chair opposite Harry's and sat down. Harry had no idea what Snape was up to, so he nestled in uneasily, keeping his wand at the ready just in case.

· Cissy, if I could ask you - said Snape to the woman, who immediately nodded, pulled out her wand and stepped in front of them.

· What are you planning? Harry asked.

Snape's eyes flashed slyly.

· We make the Unbreakable Oath, Potter. If anyone hears about our little meeting, you will experience such hellish torments that nothing the power of the Cruciatus Curse can do!

Snape caught Harry's hand and held it tightly. Harry didn't object, he was forced to stay still. Narcissa touched the wand to their hands.

"Do you swear," said Snape, "that you will not tell anyone, man, creature or dead, what happened in this house?"

"I-I swear," Harry replied.

At once he noticed that a ring of fire was twisting around their clasped hands.

· Do you swear that you will not let anyone know that you met me by any of your actions or thoughts?

· Yes, came the answer.

Another ring of fire appeared, and along with the other, it slid onto Harry and Snape's hands. The fire only burned him for a moment, then it was gone.

Snape grinned and pushed Harry's hand away.

"Good," he said. "The other two good birds can come now."

Harry stood up from his chair, but as he did so he caught a look from Snape that told him something completely different than a satisfied grin. What Harry was experiencing was strange, shocking, but Snape's eyes said, "do something!" Harry frowned and stood back, rubbing his wrists, to make way for Ron, who came in broken.

Harry turned away from the others and went into his thoughts as Ron and Hermione took their vows. When they were done, the guests began to gather to leave. A strange sense of incompleteness began to grow in Harry, and when Mr. Bulstrode reached for the doorknob, he understood what Snape was telling him. Although he still didn't understand why he had to do this.

· Wait! he said to the man, who curiously turned back. - Do you think they can leave just like that? Harry threw it. "Maybe Snape trusts all kinds of random Death Eaters, but I don't."

· Watch your mouth, you dirty...!

Harry waved his hand impatiently and turned away from Marcus Flint.

"Take the Unbreakable Oath yourselves," said Harry. "If they do that, they can leave already, but until then."

not.

· And who stops me in it? Flint grumbled, but not everyone was so keen on the idea. Narcissa gave him her usual disapproving look, but remained seated, Mr Bulstrode obediently walking back to the center of the room and sitting down in one of the conjured chairs, Malfoy and Wildung watching the proceedings.

"I will," Harry answered confidently. "You must be very good at entrance curses, but I don't recommend you try." Just ask Malfoy," he poked his head at the blond boy, who snarled at the words.

Harry's eyes wandered to Snape's face, but it was expressionless. You must be an Occlumency… Harry thought.

"Well," muttered Mr Bulstrode, holding out his hand. Harry immediately sat down in front of him and asked him the same questions that Snape had asked him.

"If you break the oath, you die," Harry concluded the oath by stating the condition. Mr. Bulstrode was astonished for a moment, then nodded his fat head, and without waiting for the others, left after a cursory greeting.

After Mr Bulstrode came Flint, then Mrs Malfoy, who had fear in her eyes, just like Marcus Flint, but the big boy tried to suppress it with contempt and anger. But that couldn't help the trembling of his hands. After Narcissa, it was Draco Malfoy's turn, whose cold and sweaty hand was more than uncomfortable to hold, and they pretty much broke the oath to get rid of each other as soon as possible.

Draco said goodbye to his mother, who also left, along with Marcus Flint, who politely opened the door for him - the matchmaker was Snape all the way and only nodded his goodbyes to the others - except for Narcissa, with whom he exchanged a fleeting smile. Harry suspected that Snape was upset.

Pettigrew took his turn, his palm was crusty and dry, not so the other, which was a silver hand and glistened coldly in the candlelight.

After Pettigrew jumped up after the oath and slunk back to the corner where he had been loitering, Harry looked around. There was only one person left: the silent Wildung. However, he leaned against the bookcase with a satanic smile on his face and folded arms.

· Wildung? Snape called to the man.

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· Don't you think I'm going to swear an oath to this half-blood? he asked quietly. "We'll have to," Harry stated. "You can't leave here until then."

Wildung and Snape looked at each other. The wizard's icy blue gaze bored into Snape's black eyes. Harry looked from one to the other, his right hand reaching for his wand in his pocket. He couldn't see what Ron and Hermione were doing, or Draco Malfoy – he didn't want to take his eyes off the two wizards – but he hoped they were alert.

However, apparently nothing happened. Wildung considered it, perhaps because he couldn't deal with Snape, Harry and the others at the same time. The blue robed man suddenly stepped away from the wall causing Harry to flinch before sitting down on the chair and holding up his right hand. He only tore his eyes from Snape and looked at Harry when he started saying the text.

· Do you swear that you won't tell anyone, not human, magical or dead, about what happened in this house?

· I swear - came the ice-cold answer, followed by the first ring of fire.

· Do you swear that you will not let anyone know that this meeting took place by any of your actions or thoughts?

"Yes," replied Wildung.

The man was about to pull his hand away, but Harry squeezed it.

"Do you swear," continued Harry emphatically, "that you will never, under any circumstances, turn against the other oath takers?" Should he be punished by death if he breaks his oath?

Wildung did not immediately respond. Harry was about to repeat the question when the wizard sitting in front of him smiled. His face wore the same distorted grimace as before, and his handshake became a shade stronger.

"I swear," he said. "You can take poison for that... Chosen one."

The fire circles disappeared and Harry quickly let go of Wildung's hand and he left without a word.

"For a second I thought he was coming at us," Harry commented after the silence began to grow oppressive. "You weren't alone with him, Potter," answered Snape calmly.

· What?! Hermione squealed. "Didn't you trust him and invite him here?" How could it be so…?

· I didn't call, Granger! said Snape. - Valter Wildung is one of the Dark Lord's earliest followers, they know each other from Hogwarts days - he explained. - Wildung did the same thing I did: he looked for those among the Death Eaters who do not look kindly on the return of the Lord. But he does it for a different purpose...

· What kind of purpose can it have? Ron

asked. - He wants to be the leader of the Death Eaters. He wants to be the next "big man"… haha! Stupid worm... There is no dignity in him, Snape raged.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in shock. They expected further information from Snape, but to their surprise they got it from Malfoy.

"Mr Wildung is a very powerful wizard," he muttered. "He threatened Severus to tell the Lord everything about the plot if we didn't initiate it."

· But what good is that for him...? Harry was puzzled. "If he knows so much and is such a great wizard as you say, why hasn't he turned against him yet?"

Snape grinned at him.

"Because you're interested in him," he pointed out. "He's curious about you, because of the prediction." He wants to know word for word.

· You want to use it, huh? Harry growled. "Just like Scrimgeour."

· Don't worry about it - Snape closed the topic. "Valter Wildung will not be in a position to betray us—not now that he has taken the Oath." I couldn't force Wildung to take the oath, but luckily you saw through the situation quickly… I have to admit that," he said with a scowl at Harry.

This didn't really calm those present, maybe that's why he added when he looked around at the faces: - I'll take care of it as soon as I get a chance.

· Kill him? The question slipped out of Hermione's mouth.

Snape turned to him and looked at him in silence for a moment.

· Yes, he finally said. – Valter Wildung is an extremely dangerous black mage and could be trouble. Not to mention that he takes a perverse pleasure in killing Muggles and Muggle-borns… That might be reason enough for Miss Granger too, no?

Hermione rolled her eyes and mumbled something that couldn't be understood. Meanwhile, Snape walked over to one of the cupboards and opened a small door. He took out a browned old rope from it, laid it on the table, then nailed the wand to it.

· Transport! he muttered as the entire length of the rope began to glow blue, then went out as if nothing had happened.

"The Dark Lord is coming here tomorrow to hand you over to him," he told Harry. "I'll tell you that you ran away from me."

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With that he handed the rope to the Harrys. As usual, the three good friends stood around and waited for the count.

Harry couldn't help but gasp. Finally! You can leave this cursed house filled with the stench of Death Eaters.

"As I said," he warned them, looking at Ron, Hermione and Harry one by one. "You don't do anything until they tell you!"

"Okay," Harry muttered.

· One... two... three.

Neither Harry nor his two friends bothered to say hello. Fate may have pushed them to the same side, but the enmity will never be erased. Never, as long as he lives! Harry thought as he spun in the magic vortex of the wrench. He will never trust Snape or any of his pribs. He won't lift his little finger for it!

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Chapter

24 Hermione's Kiss

· What did you even imagine that you disappeared for so long? shouted Mrs. Weasley. "How were you able to…?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing in the living room of the Prewett house and had been listening to Ron's mom rant for about ten minutes. When they arrived, they found Aunt Muriel, who was also worried, and Mr. Weasley, who was grumbling

I look at Mordon, Paulina crouching on the sofa and the twins, who are standing there in jackets and scarves up to their necks in snow, indicating that they must have stumbled in only minutes before.

"I told you, mother," Ron explained impatiently, "we left something at the Black house and we had to go get it urgently."

These were their first attempts to explain themselves. As they tried to calm their spirits, Harry exchanged a fleeting glance with Aunt Muriel, who barely perceptibly shook her head, letting them know that the rest of the HQ residents were unaware of the nighttime jaunt to the Ministry.

However, Aunt Muriel's eyes told something else: the old woman was visibly worried to death about what had happened, she probably knew about the dementor attack, and it seemed to Harry that she had lost a lot of weight in the last two days.

· Don't lie! Mrs. Weasley squealed and was close to slapping her son and all three of them. "We know very well that you were not in that house, because I sent Alastor there!"

Ron stared wide-eyed at Hermione for help, but now her ingenuity was failing her as well.

· Well... er... - Hermione was only able to run that much, and when Mrs. Weasley almost knocked her down with her gaze, her voice was completely gone.

Since Harry's arrival, he had repeatedly run through the events of the days he had spent in Snape's apartment, to see if there was anything to escape from the Unbreakable Oath. Since he had never found such a thing, he had the idea that an old, proven reason would do.

"It was like that," Harry began, and now he got it from the red-haired woman's overwhelming sternness as she turned towards him, "that my scar hurt..."

Mr. Weasley half rose from the chair he had been sitting on with his characteristic calmness and only spoke a few times during the conversation to try to calm the mood. Now, however, he gave up on this pursuit and watched Harry intently along with the others. "Er… you know, it was like a few years ago," Harry lied. "Now I was

asleep and somehow I was able to get out of the apartment." I guess Voldemort wanted to trick me like that… (Mrs Weasley squealed in fright). "I noticed that Harry was missing," Ron said. – and... and then I left... I woke him up

Hermionét is…

"Then we were attacked by the Dementors at the tall oak tree," Hermione chimed in, and Harry begged that none of the members of their audience should use lemmings. He snarled at Aunt Muriel again, who gave no sign of wanting to interrupt.

"The only way we could escape was by jumping off, along with Harry," Ron continued. "But the dementors must have interfered with something, because we holed up in an unknown place, in some ruined village..."

Mrs Weasley sat down in a chair. He no longer looked at them as if he wanted to yell at them again, but the explanation did not completely calm him down. -

And it took a day and a half for you to come back? No message...

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"Well…yeah," muttered Ron.

Mr. Weasley stroked his balding head with an exasperated sigh, and after giving the Harrys a dismissive look, he turned to Mordon.

· I thought Tudodki couldn't get in here in any way - he shook his head. "I thought so

too, Arthur," Mordon snapped. "But Tudodki and Harry have a relationship that I don't understand."

Not even Dumbledore was fully aware of its effects…

"Yes, yes..." muttered Mr. Weasley, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "I think we can be glad that Ron noticed Harry's disappearance," the man closed the topic and looked around at the others. "Otherwise, who knows what would have happened..."

Mrs Weasley nodded glumly - quickly getting over her fright and shock. Percy shook his head disapprovingly, imitating Mordon, who was leaning on his staff and scanning Harry's face with his intact and magical eyes. Aunt Muriel stood silently wringing her hands, and beside her Fred and George lingered with their hands in their pockets, now freed from their snowy coats.

· Harry! Mrs. Weasley called out again as the boy began to peel off his coat. "Your hand!"

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Harry looked down at his hand and it immediately dawned on him what he had forgotten - and he also knew that it would be even more difficult for him to explain, if not downright impossible.

· Your hand is healed! - Mrs. Weasley continued to pale, and her husband and Aunt Muriel, Mordon and the twins also gathered to see if she really saw him well. Harry tried to hide it, but knew it was completely unnecessary.

"How…?"

· No... I don't know. I woke up this morning...

· Go ahead! Fred and George's chorus rang out.

"You don't heal from a cursed wound overnight," clarified Mr. Weasley.

"Now they're sure to be hiding something," Mordon remarked turning to the others, and they all glared at Harry.

"Leave it," Ron muttered and pulled Harry away from the ring of scrutinizing eyes. - Don't you have better things to do than question us?

· No! snapped Mrs. Weasley. "And answer with respect, young man, because you're going to get a lot of trouble," he threatened with a red face.

Ron felt ashamed and took a few steps back with his head down. Harry also avoided the eyes of the others, and Hermione tried to focus all her attention on stroking Paulina's hair, who was clutching her waist.

· Would you like to talk?!

Another silence was the answer.

· It's fine! Mrs. Weasley hissed angrily. "Room confinement!" For all three! he pointed at Ron, Hermione and Harry one by one. Even the others made surprised faces.

· If you don't respect that we put our souls on the line for you, then don't expect any more kindness! Go to your rooms!

Ron gaped at his mother and Hermione blinked in fright like she'd been caught breaking the rules. Paulina looked at the angry Mrs. Weasley with as much fear as if she too was being punished.

"You can't send Harry and Hermione to roommates..." Ron retorted when he regained his presence of mind.

· But how can I send it! Mrs. Weasley snapped at him. "They live with us, I'm responsible for them!" Me and Arthur and Muriel! So go to your room and stay there until you think about lying!

The trio stood frozen in front of the strict woman for a few more moments, then, since no one present wanted to make Mrs Weasley see any better - in fact, they seemed to agree with her - Harry let out a nervous huff and cut his way through Mr Weasley, Percy and Mordon formed a row on the wall and stomped upstairs. Hermione and Ron reluctantly followed him into the loft upstairs.

· I can't believe this! Ron lamented. "Room confinement?!" We are seventeen years old…! "Eighteen," Hermione muttered to herself. Apparently, he also felt the punishment as a deep shame.

· At least Aunt Muriel could have said something! Ron continued and now he did as Harry and Snape did before. He paced the room nervously. "He told us to go with him in the middle of the night!"

Harry stared out at the misty landscape in silence. He didn't feel like joining the conversation.

"Don't blame him, Ron," came Hermione's dismissive voice. "You know the effect that place had on him."

You can't expect him to tell everyone all at once. Anyway… your mother will probably settle down in a few days.

· You don't know mother like that, Hermione! Ron roared. "He can and will keep us locked up until the end of the war!" – (slammed his hand on the head) – How are we even going to go out if Snape calls us?

· Quieter! she scolded him, and not without reason.

There was a knock on the door.

"You're free," said Hermione as the door opened and Fred and George entered.

Harry collapsed onto the bed with an exhausted sigh.

· What do you want? Harry asked tiredly.

"The truth," snapped the twins. "Aunt Muriel told me that she took you to the ministry at night." You disappeared from there.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

· Did he tell you? she raised her eyebrows. "And why didn't he tell the others?"

"We don't know," Fred answered. "Actually, we don't even know what you were looking for in the ministry, but knowing you, you must have had a reason for it."

· Aunt Muriel is worried - George took over - that before you disappeared with the ziplock, Harry shouted that...

"Dementors," Harry finished for him. "Yes, it was."

Fred and George leaned against the wall with their hands in their pockets in unison. Ron fidgeted nervously at the edge of the blue blackout curtain.

· Uh...? Fred asked, waiting for further explanation.

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· Wasn't it clear enough in the living room? Hermione grumbled. "We can't say anything, whatever we want!"

"Look Hermione..." George began as if he hadn't heard her words. "We don't usually poke our noses into your affairs, because we know that nothing good will come of it." We wouldn't do it now, but you know. if Auntie Muriel

wakes us up dead pale in the early hours of the morning with the fact that you all disappeared with a manipulated zip-lock wrench, then that makes us a little nervous, too - finished her twin brother, holding his index finger and thumb together, to express how much.

Ron let go of the curtain, causing it to swing, sometimes letting in the languid sunlight outside, illuminating the room in long streaks, sometimes covering everything in a bluish shadow.

· How did you know that the zip lock was tampered with? Harry asked, though he wasn't really interested in the answer. He tried to delay the moment to answer, to think of something.

"Checked it out at the ministry," answered George half-heartedly. "But that doesn't matter now." How did you escape the dementors?

There was a pause in the conversation for a few seconds. Ron then moved closer to his brothers as if to whisper, but instead responded with a distinctly irritated tone, which Harry didn't think was the least bit out of place.

· Nothing to do with it!

· I have so much to do with it to know where my little brother is going! George grumbled.

· No, there is no...

· Of course, if my younger brother is so lame that he can't even protect himself from a suffocating robe. !

· Stop fighting! Hermione blurted out.

Fred choked, along with George and Ron, they looked at Hermione, who was blushing.

"For seventeen years, you didn't give a damn about Ron," he pointed accusingly at the twins. "Now don't pretend to be caring brothers!" You don't even understand half of what's going on here, so don't ask!

"Hermione, we just. " George raised his arms defensively, but she didn't let him finish the sentence. - And this also

applies to your mothers. If you are really curious, ask Mordon or the Fathers instead... They will tell you what you are good at and what you are not!

Fred shook his head in disbelief.

· Just like mother... of course...

Hermione shrugged, still panting from the yelling. Ron gaped at him.

"We're sorry. " George apologized. "Really… we know you're not doing this by accident… it's just…"

· We just don't want a fiasco like Pojáca with Percy - explained Fred. "If something happens to you. "

"We're not that irresponsible, Hermione." We're worried about you… Really," George added, misunderstanding Hermione's head shake.

Neither of them said a word for a minute.

Harry wasn't surprised by Hermione's yelling, even more so that Fred and George took what she said seriously. Before, they didn't even pay attention to what the girl said, they went after their own heads, and what a denial, they did it right, seeing how successful they were, Harry thought. But this is a completely different situation now, and the twins must have noticed. Now this isn't a school prank… I wish she could tell them - or rather the Order of the Phoenix - what happened!

Meanwhile, Hermione calmed down and when she sat down next to Harry on the bed, she cast a softened look at the twins.

· But... you could come to our shop sometime - Fred smiled.

"That is, when the punishment is over," said his brother with similar forced cheerfulness.

· We have some interesting new inventions that you can take advantage of - Fred suddenly became serious. Before either of them could respond to the Freds' offer, the door opened and in walked Paulina.

· Hi guys! George smiled kindly.

The little girl didn't say a word, she immediately ran to Hermione and placed herself on her lap.

· Where have you been? he asked chirping and threw his arms around Hermione's neck.

"We had a lot to do, baby," she answered. "But don't worry, we're not going anywhere," he reassured Paulina.

Harry stroked the little girl's hair while Fred, George and Ron watched in silence. Finally the twins cleared their throats and walked to the door.

· We'll tell Auntie Muriel not to question you, Fred said by way of farewell. "I don't promise anything about Mom..."

"Thanks," Harry, Ron and Hermione muttered as the twins left.

· Are you really under punishment? Paulina asked in her thin voice.

Harry nodded with a smile – he didn't want Paulina to think it was that serious. The fight in the living room was enough. - I was also under house arrest - said the

little girl. "Miss Johnson locked me in the attic for a whole day when Tommy Parker found maggots in his porridge, even though I didn't put them in... I just threatened..."

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The house arrest ended a week later. Aunt Muriel informed the Harrys that she had argued with Mrs Weasley, who was still in a hot mood, to reduce the punishment. So the Harrys are no longer just outside the house

they could put their feet out.

· Did you tell them where we were? Ron asked Aunt Muriel quietly when he brought the news about the reduced sentence. Aunt Muriel shook her head.

"I didn't say anything except to Fred and George," answered the aunt. "That's our job, isn't it, kids?" - he smiled brightly, but his face still showed a trace of the nervousness that he must have experienced during the hours of their disappearance.

Harry suspected that the old woman hadn't been this upset since she left the Ministry and ended that phase of her life. And Harry had to realize again that anyone who got even the tiniest bit involved in the long battle between him and Voldemort would have to pay a heavy price - whichever side he was on. Aunt Muriel had already lost some of her cherished memories and treasures due to Mundungus' not exactly blessed activities, and Harry, Ron and Hermione must have caused her many sleepless nights.

"You could have said something to mom to make her calm down," Ron complained.

· I said so! the aunt snapped. "I told you that I was with you that night and chased the dementors away." I don't like to lie, but sometimes I have to... Why do you think Molly waived the additional punishment?

"It was a big help…after a week of room confinement," Ron muttered, but only after his great-aunt had left the bedroom.

"Whatever," Harry waved. "We can't do anything until Snape calls."

"Yes," agreed Hermione. He hadn't forgotten to mention Snape's warning several times over the past few days, just as a precaution, lest Harry do something reckless. "And, of course, it didn't hurt that we could read through the seventh-year textbooks one more time," he added with sparkling eyes.

Ron grunted but didn't say anything else.

· How are you going to message anyway? Harry muttered, not even hearing Hermione's earlier words. "You must know the location of the headquarters... The Order was established here long before Snape stepped down."

"Just don't send a love letter like that again," Ron remarked with some irony, and Harry replied with a half-smile.

For the next few days, the boring, early January mood returned to the Prewett house, which meant that Harry's only occupations were

studying, housework and waiting - except for Hermione, who had another task: As the adopted mother of little Paulina - which Ron named Hermione, who was

mothering the little girl, and what she wasn't happy about at all - it was her job to teach the little girl to read and write. Since Hermione had kidnapped Paulina in accordance with muggle law (and we deny it, wizarding law as well), sending her to prep school was out of the question.

"I don't know..." Ron whispered to Harry once, when Hermione was teaching Paulina how to write simpler sentences. "Hermione as a teaching aunt?" McGonagall then...

Harry stifled a laugh. Ron sighed.

"It's a shame you can't go to school," he said. "Then we could have gone to get her sometimes," Hermione would surely allow. You know, I was wondering how Muggle children study.

· How-how? Harry gasped. "Didn't you go to a muggle school?"

Ron shook his head.

· Mother taught us to read - explained the red-haired boy while munching on a walnut muffin. "This is the custom in golden-blooded families... Can you imagine a 6-year-old Malfoy in a Muggle classroom?"

Harry laughed at the impossible idea, because the blond boy appeared in front of him in a junior high school uniform, black pants, white shirt, and blue tie, which Harry had worn so long ago that he thought it happened in another life. "Maybe it was..." he thought.

On the rare occasions when the permanent residents of the headquarters were together, they all encouraged the Harrys to study, and without a regular teacher, they had to fend for themselves with the magic books found in the Prewett House library.

Aunt Muriel had encouraged them to do so, and Harry didn't have to say it twice: he reminded himself that the Book of Shadow Magic was still waiting in the depths of his closet for someone to read it. So on the morning of the last Monday in January, when there were only Mrs Weasley, her two friends and little Paulina in the house, she wandered up to her room and fished out the book.

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He carefully turned the ornate printed product between his fingers and then threw himself down on the bed. He looked at the clock on the wall – there were only two hours until lunchtime, he could use it to read through the tome of Shadow Magic (or book of shadows as he called it to himself).

The first few chapters were a description of the properties of the summons, divided into groups, discussing at length their effect, their creation... For Harry, this seemingly endless text was more than boring, so after reading three full pages, he flipped through the table of contents for the various spells.

Summoned shield charms: the most effective protection against damage - page 56 Help in battle, or how to summon shadows to serve us? – Page 123

Patrons and Dark Patrons - Page 187

These aren't exactly typical Hogwarts charms... Harry thought, but not one summon really piqued his interest.

He turned to page 123 for summonable creatures and flipped through the pages. The book discussed one summon after another for long pages, but this chapter didn't provide a specific spell, which not only shocked Harry, but downright frustrated him.

How can one cast a spell if one does not even know what a spell is? he grumbled to himself.

The book presented much more complicated stick movements, which he presented in the form of small drawings - and these were also full of notes. With these spells, it even mattered how hard one swung the wand, but there were no magic words to say. Harry began to suspect that he might have missed something, so he reluctantly flipped back to the introduction and continued to study it.

· So the point is in the movements - Harry hummed when he finished the introduction half an hour later. Now that he thought about it like that, he remembered that Flitwick had told them sometime before the RBF preparation about some movement spells that didn't require a spell. "Magic is based purely on the wand and the person of the wizard," one of Hermione's thick notes reminded him.

Harry unwrapped a Honeydew bar and began to chew slowly as he read.

Summoning insects, read one of the subtitles. It was the shortest of the spells discussed in the chapter, so he thought it would be a good place to start.

Harry crumpled up the chocolate paper and stuffed it into his pocket, pulling out his wand as he did so. He sat up in bed and nailed the wand to the floor. He pointed at the book and went over the sequence of movements once more, then began to wave it as if writing in the air. A few years earlier, he would have surely stabbed him, but after six years of charms and transfiguration, he was slowly able to follow what was written in the book. He tried three times, then reread the rest of the instructions.

Should I think of an insect? he asked himself. For an unsympathetic insect. How can an insect be unsympathetic? It can be disgusting…" Harry mumbled. An insect… Big eyes, swinging tentacles… ridiculous glasses… Glasses?!

· Trelawney! - the Hogwarts divination teacher jumped in with her suspiciously cooing voice, her glasses magnifying her eyes laughingly, her floating veils.

He repeated the motion, at the end of which the wand snapped and emitted a cloud of purple smoke that, in a strange way, smelled just as intoxicating as the candles and incense burning in Professor Trelawney's classroom. Coughing, Harry fanned the smoke with both hands, then noticed that something had landed on his lap. He looked down and was surprised to find that three or four fat cockroaches were crawling on the bed, and their companions were jumping out of his stick one after the other accompanied by the same cloud of smoke. He quickly held the wand away from him, and the roaches started pouring onto the floor.

Confused by the successful spell and the strange effect, he momentarily forgot what was happening. In no time, the floor of the room was filled with excited and moving bugs, which slowly started towards the door.

· Ouch...! - moaned Harry, when the cockroaches in the gap under the door try to leave the room by wading over each other.

The insect Trelawneys crawled out of the room and Harry looked after them nervously. He jumped off the bed (four or five loud crunches

under his shoes) and quickly dispelled the spell before the constant banging of the wand stopped. - Aaaah! someone screamed, and Harry literally tore

the door open as he stormed out of his room.

Mrs Weasley stood in the corridor with a basket of laundry in her hand, stomping through the cockroaches that were marching past her feet.

· I hate bugs! the woman screamed. "I hate it!" …Blah! Mrs. Weasley dropped the laundry basket as one of the cockroaches tried to use her leg as a crawler, then ran down the stairs.

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Harry ran after him, hitting a few cockroaches with freezing curses on the way, but there were so many of them that it didn't make much of a difference. The bugs started up the stairs towards the living room and Harry followed. In the meantime, the other residents of the house also learned about the bug invasion thanks to Mrs. Weasley's screams, so there was no hope of covering up the shameful blunder. Heading down the stairwell, cockroaches covered the steps, so for lack of a better idea, Harry stomped and cursed at them at the same time - the result of which was the floor, which had been carefully polished to a shine, covered in a yellowish-glistening pulp.

· Harry, what the hell have you done?! Ron exclaimed when he saw his friend jumping up the stairs.

· Nothing! Harry yelled amid the stomping. "Just… a… gone wrong… uh…"

Aunt Muriel appeared next to Ron, Hermione and Paulina, who were staring with their mouths open, and saw the situation in an instant. He took out his long wand and swung it above his head. The next moment, the beetles rose into the air and were encased in a sphere of molten glass. With another flick, the orb began to shrink, and after a loud crack, a disgusting, greenish-yellow juice splashed onto the floor, and the orb disintegrated.

· Blow! Paulina hissed and pretended to throw up.

Hermione, Ron and Aunt Muriel looked up at Harry. The boy stood knee-deep in dirt at the top of the stairs and stared back at them with a repentant face. Aunt Muriel laughed, not Mrs Weasley who was still looking at the cockroach footprints with a disgusted expression on her face.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled and slowly started up the stairs with creaking steps.

On the third step, his foot slipped and he managed to hold on to the railing with difficulty, saving himself from an embarrassing fall on his stomach inside the cockroach. Aunt Muriel came to her senses and with a few movements removed the traces of beetle destruction - the stairwell was spotless again.

"Perhaps you should have started with something less disgusting, Harry," remarked Aunt Muriel with a smile.

Harry did not give up learning Shadow magic, and in the following weeks he perfectly mastered the summoning of some living creatures: flies, crows, snakes and many other dark creatures. But even more useful than these was a quick magic spell, as a result of which he was able to summon a floating golden sphere. According to the description of the book of shadows, the orb orbits around the wizard and stands in the way of curses, thus providing perfect protection.

They were already in it in February, when on an overcast Sunday McGonagall paid his respects at headquarters, accompanied by Fred and George, who, unlike the headmistress, were only attracted to the Prewett house by Mrs Weasley's Sunday dinner.

· Professor! Hermione immediately rushed to her former teacher. "Are you here?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, but I'm only here for a short time," McGonagall said. "I wanted to speak to Arthur in person," she turned to Mrs. Weasley.

· In person? the woman looked at him suspiciously.

· Yes, and your daughter asked me to bring this letter too… - McGonagall rummaged in her pocket, then fished out a brown Hogwarts envelope. "You know, Molly, owl post is pretty unreliable these days…"

· Did Ginny write? Mrs Weasley's eyes lit up (and Harry's at the same time. He hadn't heard from her in too long). "Arthur, come down quickly!" he shouted upstairs.

Meanwhile, Mrs Weasley opened the envelope, then sat down on one of the blue armchairs and buried herself in the letter, which seemed particularly long.

Mr. Weasley ran downstairs and immediately went to McGonagall. Harry and Ron would have followed to hear the details of the conversation, but just then the twins came up to them.

· I hear, you arranged the staircase nicely, mate - Fred put his arm around his shoulder, grinning. Harry gave a resigned groan.

"Never be ashamed!" George took the floor. "The Weasleys have a tradition of destroying something in the apartment once a year."

"Mother thinks these are accidents," Fred George explained? -, but I think we all secretly enjoy the chaos. not true

Mrs Weasley heard the comment and gave the twins a disapproving look, who quickly wiped the smirk off their faces. Harry wasn't happy that the twins were bringing up the subject, but there was nothing he could do.

"I didn't want chaos..." Harry grumbled and lifted Fred's arm off his shoulder. "I just messed up a spell, that's all."

· Don't pull on him! George patted him on the back. "We've all tried a spell that went wrong..."

Remember, Fred, that case with the Running Fire fantasy? Even weeks later, I could only sleep on my stomach. His twin smiled wistfully, then when his eyes wandered over to Ron, his grin grew even wider.

"But that… that was nothing compared to when… when Ron wanted to curse the Malfoy boy!" he said, giggling loudly.

Ron's ears instantly took on the color of his hair.

· It was because of the broken wand! the boy roared. "I couldn't do it..."

· Aha... - Fred was still laughing. "And of course you can't pretend that you forgot the little thing that you shouldn't curse with a broken wand..."

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Ron endured his twin's taunts with a blushing face, but he only got really angry when he saw the corner of Harry's mouth turn up as well. Although Harry tried really hard to regulate his facial muscles, it seemed that he was not succeeding.

· Oh, don't take it as an insult, little brother! George patted his shoulder as well. "We're just nostalgic, you know..."

· Nostalgia for someone else's bad luck! Ron threw it angrily.

Now Percy and Hermione joined them. She was holding Squidward in her arms - the cat was already missing its owner very much

· and Percy was asking Hermione about the animal.

· What's wrong, Ron? Percy frowned when he noticed his younger brother's expression.

"We're just talking about spells gone wrong," Harry said quickly, but George added, "And how Ron's such a pro at it..."

"Leave it," Hermione looked at them with devastating eyes.

"It's not something to be taken lightly, Ron," Percy explained seriously. Ron mumbled something like, I know…

· I remember how restless mother was when she told me that you were traveling the country alone - said Fred. "He was a lot more nervous than when Bill said he was going to Egypt to loot the pyramids."

· What do you mean by that? Harry was puzzled.

· Only that, according to mother, Ron... well... um... he's not that talented... The spawn nodded with mock pity.

The red color drained from Ron's face as if a faucet had been opened under his chin, giving way to an alarming pallor.

· Sorry, little brother... - George blurted out. "But that's the truth."

· That's not true! Hermione came to her defense perhaps a little too violently, because she squeezed Csampas in such a way that he blew angrily, then jumped out of the girl's arms and slipped under one of the cupboards.

· Ron is very talented indeed! He knows many things that surpass any of you! Hermione pointed at them.

Harry noticed that her words brought a little color back to his friend's face. Fred and George looked at him with smiles, waiting for his next words.

· He is the best at chess! said Hermione. "Did you ever manage to beat him?" The twins and Percy nodded in agreement. -

And… and Ron is very good at Quidditch! she continued.

This was no longer in full agreement among Ron's brothers. Percy nodded though - since he didn't know as much about Quidditch as Hermione - And… and more…-, but Fred and George hummed discreetly.

Ron blushed again, and so did Hermione, who was feverishly searching through her memories. Harry felt more and more ashamed, but he couldn't say anything else either.

"That's what I was talking about," Fred summed up, which Ron didn't want to hear anymore. He put his hands in his pockets awkwardly and walked away before anyone could speak.

Hermione looked at the twins like Scamp was watching from under the cupboard.

· Don't you guys have better things to do than bully Ron? - he complained to them when Ron left upset, but he didn't wait for the hesitant answer: - He's our little brother...

Hermione ran upstairs after Ron, and the bedroom door slammed shut.

· We're not slamming the door! Mrs Weasley exclaimed as she read the letter.

Harry felt he had made a huge mistake by not speaking up to protect Ron, but now he couldn't help but glare unfriendly at the three Weasley brothers. He also left them at the wooden picture and hurried upstairs to talk to Ron's head, following Hermione.

When Harry reached the door, the first sound he heard was a metallic knock and then a crack - and with it Hermione's sad voice: - Oh, why did you do that, Ron?

· You don't need this shit! the boy grumbled. "I hate this too..." (something hard hit the ground and rolled on). "Please stop," Hermione muttered weakly, sniffing softly at him. "I don't like it when it's like that."

or…

Ron wasn't impressed either. He was too upset to listen to anyone. Harry was already familiar with these moments of his friend. He didn't open the door, he just listened to what was happening inside.

· Don't you understand? I always thought that if I had such a stupid thing blooming on my robe or if I had a better broom, then they would leave me alone... But no! Nothing pleases those two idiots…!

Harry moved closer to the door to hear her soft words. - And what do you

want to do now? came Hermione's sad voice. "Are you cursing them all again?" "I don't want to… no," Ron growled. "I don't care..."

There was a thud, and Ron threw himself onto the bed. "Please leave me alone now," he said coldly.

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A long silence, then a few sniffs.

· Are you sure? Hermione asked uncertainly.

There was no answer, but the girl soon left. Harry moved out of the way so Ron wouldn't see him when the door opened. When Hermione came out, she was momentarily surprised to see Harry, then quickly closed the door.

"I don't think you should go in now, Harry," he whispered sadly. His eyes glistened wetly. "Yes, I know…" Harry replied. "What was that crack?"

Hermione pulled him away from the door and they headed back up the stairs to the living room. Meanwhile, he showed the prefect's badge in his palm, bent and broken in the middle, which had been given to Ron when he was in his fifth year - when everyone was sure that Harry would get the appointment out of the two of them.

"I didn't think Fred's teasing was so bad for him," Harry admitted and shook his head resignedly. "How much he has changed..."

· Fred? Hermione asked in surprise.

· Not him! Harry muttered as they sat down on the blue couch. "I'm talking about Ron."

Hermione watched intently and moved a little closer so the others wouldn't hear what they were talking about. They didn't have to worry about that. McGonagall was still hanging out in the hall talking to Mr Weasley about goblins and Mrs Weasley was too busy reading the letter - judging by the look on her face she wasn't happy about what Ginny had written.

· Do you remember when we were at Edevis's mirror in the salon? Harry asked. "Didn't Ron tell you what he saw then?"

Hermione shook her head.

· I asked him, but he didn't tell me... - he answered.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "When we were little, he told me what he saw then." He saw himself as a Quidditch player, a prefect (Harry turned the pieces of the letter P badge between his fingers)... That he was like his brothers.

Hermione stared straight ahead and said nothing for a while.

"It's stupid," he said finally. "He may not be that talented, but he has a thousand times more!" He's proven it a million times, why doesn't he notice this?

"Sometimes we don't see our own merits," Harry allowed. Hermione gave him a small smile.

· Since when did you become so wise? he asked, then laughed. Harry didn't laugh, didn't even smile.

· I'm not wise.

· Sometimes we don't see our own merits! Hermione snapped at him immediately. "You meant it to yourself!" he laughed.

· Yes, it can be - Harry smiled as well, and his eyes wandered to McGonagall.

He didn't want to discuss the subject any further, instead he handed Hermione the pieces of the prefect's insignia back and nodded towards the hall.

· Come on, let's see what they're talking about.

Mrs Weasley didn't even notice that they were sitting there, or that they were now getting up and leaving - she stared silently ahead and occasionally shook her head.

There was a short pause in McGonagall's and Mr. Weasley's conversation, as if Mr. Weasley was just digesting what he heard.

"There's another problem, Arthur," said the headmistress as the Harrys appeared beside them.

· What happened, Minerva? Mr. Weasley asked, instinctively lowering his voice to a whisper, but McGonagall wasn't bothered by the fact that Harry and Hermione were standing around them.

"I'd like you to notify Dedalus Diggle – he's almost impossible to reach from Hogwarts these days…" "No problem," confirmed Mr. Weasley.

"Arthur, the thing is that they broke into Hogwarts," the headmistress continued. Mr. Weasley and the Harrys made shocked faces, but before they could interrupt, McGonagall continued. - Our herbology professor, Madam Bimba, informed me that the school greenhouse was robbed three days ago.

· The greenhouse? Hermione muttered in shock and she and Harry looked at each other.

· What did they take? Mr. Weasley inquired.

"It's full of rare plants, Arthur," McGonagall shook his head. - Mandrake seedlings, pots full of poisonous tentacles, furuncula... These are hard to come by on Abszol út and are quite expensive.

When Harry looked at Hermione, he saw that she was frowning in thought.

"Arthur, this is not an official assignment," the headmistress continued. "It has nothing to do with the Order of the Phoenix, but it has more to do with Mundungus' gang."

Mr. Weasley's features hardened.

· What do you mean by that?

· Pomona saw someone in the greenhouse before alerting the guards. A blue-robed, hooded person—perhaps the one you were talking about when Mundungus Fletcher… well…

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McGonagall placed a hand on Mr. Weasley's shoulder.

· I know how much damage these people have done to your family - as far as I know, some things from last year's robbery still haven't been found. That's why I'm asking you to go after him... Dedalus might be able to help... I'd be happy if these wind pushers were finally behind bars.

"Yes, me too," nodded Mr. Weasley firmly. Hermione cleared her throat at that.

"Excuse me, Professor..." he began. "I think it's a bit more complicated..." McGonagall raised an eyebrow and Mr. Weasley raised his head in interest.

· Teacher, these plants... that were stolen are all the ingredients of a certain potion - which is used to cure burn victims in St. Mungo's Hospital.

Mr. Weasley, Harry and the Headmistress looked at each other and Hermione continued.

· But I don't understand... Why would anyone steal ingredients for a potion that you can get from St. Mungo's whenever you need it?

McGonagall frowned.

"Are you sure these are your ingredients, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione nodded confidently. Neither of them spoke for a minute, Mr. Weasley and the Headmistress considered what they had just heard. Finally, it was Mr. Weasley who broke the silence: "Then I'll look around the

Hospital first," he announced. - I'll find out if there was anyone who asked for this potion in the last few weeks... - Um... how much of the plants disappeared, professor?

Harry asked curiously.

"All of them," McGonagall shook her head. "Hundreds of seedlings."

After the brief discussion, McGonagall left with a wrench, and Mr. Weasley went back upstairs to continue in Aunt Muriel's study to compile the Ministry report that had been prepared for the past few weeks, which was about the supposed causes of the renewed Dementor activity.

Mrs Weasley hid the letter she had read several times in the pocket of her apron, then asked Harry, Hermione and the twins for help in setting the table.

· You don't have any memory, you know that? Harry whispered to Hermione as the plates were floated onto the large table.

Hermione smiled modestly.

"You even impressed McGonagall," he added.

"I don't know that from books, Harry," Hermione dismissed the compliment, but she seemed to like what she was hearing.

"I was surprised by that," Harry said, waving his wand as one of the drawers opened and knives flew into the air and onto the table. One of the tips hit the table top. "Oops…!" So you didn't read it in the almighty Hogwarts library?

· No, Hermione answered with a smile, and in the meantime she pulled the knife from the table and then soldered the cut on the tablecloth. "Actually, that was the very first potion recipe I ever heard."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

· How-how?

Hermione floated the rest of the cutlery onto the table as well, then both of them stepped out of the way of Fred and George, who threw the soup container into the middle.

"I was seven years old when I found out I was a witch," sighed Hermione. "I'm guessing you and Ron must be thinking that my first spontaneous spell was some kind of transmutation or accidental teapot charm, right?"

Harry didn't answer.

"It was a bit noisier, though..." Hermione continued. "I actually blew up the school."

· What? Harry was shocked and dropped his wand from his hand, but was too surprised to pick it up. Hermione flicked it back into her hand.

"I already told you that I didn't have many friends before you," he lowered his voice to a whisper and moved closer to Harry. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he folded his arms and continued to tell the story.

· To be exact: I didn't have a single friend. I was an object of public disgust with my obsession with books and my weird hair - at that time I also had braces and a pair of horrible glasses with one of the lenses glued on - laughed Hermione.

Harry forgot to laugh with him.

· So, on one occasion they really upset me - this happened many times... I accidentally blew up the gas pipes in my anger. The whole wall fell down, the firemen came out, and everything...

Everyone was very scared. Then soon the anti-magic squads came and took the injured to Saint Mungo. I got a burn on my arm… here, see? - he showed the small white spot on his left forearm.

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Mrs Weasley's voice boomed as she called the house's residents to lunch. Soon there was a door slam (- Don't slam the door!) and stairs. - And did you find out you were a

witch at St. Mungo's? Harry asked as he sprang to his feet.

"Yes, there," Hermione replied. "The healer said he'd never seen a seven-year-old do something like that before... Because they knew I did magic." They had some kind of structure that shows where the magic comes from, and of course there is a trace of the wizard in the magic as well... Such cases were called magical

outburst.

They treated us with this potion, and I was very curious - Hermione shrugged. "I got away relatively easily, but I had a few classmates whose faces were also burned..." he lowered his head and stared remorsefully in front of him.

"Hey… you couldn't help it, you know that," Harry comforted. "It was their fault that they got upset... They only have themselves to thank..."

· I know - she waved. "This happened a long time ago and at least no one died... thanks to the healers!"

"Come and eat," said Mrs. Weasley to them as the Prewett family gathered in the kitchen.

Hermione sat Paulina down next to her and proceeded to feed the little girl some of Mrs Weasley's glorious soup. Harry sent Ron a friendly smile as his friend came downstairs as well, but Ron only reluctantly returned the gesture. They sat next to each other, facing Hermione, between Mr Weasley and the twins. Aunt Muriel took a seat next to Mr. Weasley and they were still discussing the ministry's tasks when Mrs. Weasley said to them: - There is no work at the table!

Harry and the others sitting at the table spooned the soup in silence, and Harry again did not forget to remind himself that there is nothing better in the world than Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

· Arthur, what did McGonagall say? asked the woman as she took the plate of soup that Percy gave her.

Mr. Weasley stirred the soup single-mindedly and answered after a short silence.

· The minister suspects that McGonagall is hiding goblins at Hogwarts.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other nervously, as did the others at the table. Only Paulina continued to spoon the soup undisturbed, while dangling her legs from the high chair.

"Ouch…" Harry said. "And… and really?"

Mr Weasley looked at him and again belatedly replied.

· Yes, that's right.

Mrs Weasley put her hand over her mouth, but Aunt Muriel just blinked nervously.

"He's hiding Professor Flitwick," added Mr. Weasley when he saw his wife's reaction. "Not a rebel, Molly." He only wants to protect an innocent.

Percy didn't say anything, but he seemed eager to give them his opinion. He only coughed, but when he caught Fred and George's pointed glances, he continued to spoon instead.

· Maybe McGonagall will be replaced - Aunt Muriel joined the conversation.

· Yes, it came up already - said Mr Weasley - when McGonagall suggested that Hogwarts should be closed. Even after Dumbledore's death…

This angered Harry so much that he slammed his spoon down on the table. He looked at everyone for a moment but said nothing.

· Let's leave it at that, shall we? Aunt Muriel asked. "Let's talk about something else!"

"Yeah, like what Ginny wrote," Harry suggested. He was a bit excited, mainly because he saw the look on Mrs Weasley's face when she read the letter.

At the request, the woman put down the spoon and fished out the letter from her apron pocket, then gave it to her husband. Mr. Weasley hesitantly took it and, forgetting to eat, began to read.

"Ginny wants to come home," said Mrs. Weasley, ahead of her husband. "He wants to leave Hogwarts."

· Why? Hermione gasped.

"It says," she pointed to the letter in Mr. Weasley's hand, "that he doesn't want to go to school anymore, he'd rather work," said Mrs. Weasley in a tone where you try to hide your indignation, but make your point clear to your audience.

Harry didn't say anything, but he found himself spooning the soup at breakneck speed, causing half of each portion to splash onto the table and onto his clothes. Hermione noticed what she was doing and sent her a disapproving look, while Paulina waved her index finger in imitation of the older girl.

· But Ginny loved school! said Mr. Weasley in a desperate voice, looking at his other children for confirmation. "Or not…?"

Ron shrugged, Fred and George shook their heads firmly, and Percy hummed disapprovingly.

"He doesn't think there's anyone left for him to stay for," grumbled Mrs. Weasley. "That's how he wrote: no one."

"That's weird," George remarked. "I thought there was someone at Hogwarts…"

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Harry swallowed a bit of soup, but forced himself to continue spooning.

· The birds were chirping about some boy - his twin brother continued his reflection. - What time is it?

· Who cares? Hermione interjected.

"Me," replied Fred, George, Percy and Mrs Weasley in unison. Hermione raised both hands defensively and turned back to her plate.

· He can't come home even then! Mrs. Weasley continued her rant. "Even after Dumbledore's death, it's much safer for him there..."

· Maybe Ginny is still in love with Harry! George laughed and poked Harry in the ribs with his elbow.

Harry tried to laugh at the intended joke, but it didn't come across as sincere. Fortunately, neither the twins nor Mr and Mrs Weasley noticed this - but Aunt Muriel's eyebrows shot up spectacularly onto her forehead. Ron and Hermione were careful not to make eye contact with Harry.

· Was Ginny in love with Harry? Aunt Muriel asked suspiciously, and Harry crossed his fingers under the table. - Ah, you know, just childish

love! Mrs. Weasley waved with a smile. "He was that far for Harry when he was young."

He even drew it at the age of ten. As far as I know, I still have that drawing, I saw it somewhere in the den during the summer while cleaning...

If you take out that drawing, I'll cut my veins with this knife…" Harry decided to himself.

"Speaking of love," George raised his head. "What about Viktor Krum, Hermione?"

Alarm bells immediately went off in Harry and he quickly turned his head towards Ron, nearly snapping his neck.

The spoon stopped in his friend's hand, somewhere halfway between the plate and his mouth.

"Nothing," Hermione muttered and tried to act as if she could continue eating undisturbed. However, Harry saw her take the empty cutlery into her mouth at some point.

· It's a shame - sighed Fred theatrically. "You would have been such a beautiful couple..."

The spoon fell from Ron's hand and fell to the floor with a clatter on the edge of the plate. The contents of the plate splashed onto Ron's clothes.

· Ron, you're eating like a pig again! Percy chided him seriously.

Harry and Hermione stiffened in their seats and looked at each other. They both looked scared, but the people sitting at the table didn't notice anything.

Hermione cleared her throat and put the spoon down as well.

"Viktor Krum is a bigot," he declared, surprising even Harry. However, he thought what Hermione said was a particularly good idea. "And annoying," Hermione continued.

Meanwhile, Ron bent down for the spoon and now tried to get rid of the soup noodles and the lukewarm juice with a few cleaning chopstick movements. However, he was so confused that the cleansing charm properly frayed his brown sweater. "And boring."

· Who is Kum? Paulina asked in a meowing voice.

· Krum. "Hermione's boyfriend… I mean her boyfriend," George corrected himself.

"Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said quickly, and when she was about to take her plate away, she saw that Paulina had already finished.

"Thank you very much for the dinner," he warned the little girl quietly.

· Thank you! Paulina hissed and Mrs Weasley responded with a warm smile. "Go and wash your hands," Hermione sent out.

Paulina ran off and Hermione set about collecting the vacated plates. Harry noticed how his hands were shaking while packing and his face was also red. He wasn't surprised by this: he knew that Hermione didn't like being brought up with Viktor Krum in the least - especially not in Ron's ear.

· He seemed to be having a good time with you, though - Fred tied the knot when Hermione walked past him with a disgusted grimace.

· I feel much better with someone else - answered the girl half-heartedly. Fred, George and Mr Weasley shared a smile.

· Better than the best pliers in the world? George asked in a doubtful tone.

· Better than with the most famous Quidditch player, the champion of the Trimágus Tusa? his twin added.

When she came back from the kitchen counter, Hermione walked slowly behind them, almost walking, which was very unusual for Harry.

"Much better," Hermione answered emphatically, bending down between the twins.

· Really? - wondered George. "And who would be the lucky one?"

Hermione stopped behind Harry and Harry craned his neck to look up at her. But she wasn't looking at him.

For a long second, Hermione's brown eyes met Ron's blue ones.

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Then, before anyone could notice that the look in Hermione's eyes was different than they had been before, different from anything that had ever been seen in her eyes - Hermione leaned forward very slowly, almost softly, then she wrapped her arms around Ron's shoulders and kissed him. boy.

Everyone fell silent. The wall fell out of Mr. Weasley's mouth, Percy overfilled his glass, the pumpkin juice soaked the table, but no one cared. Everyone stared at the kissing couple with impudent openness, but neither Ron nor Hermione was bothered by it.

When they released each other after a long time, both were very red, but the smile could not be wiped off their faces.

· Come on... - Hermione took Ron by the hand and ignoring the surprised faces, they went upstairs.

Of the people sitting at the table, only Harry and Aunt Muriel were able to grin obliviously, the others were still in a state of complete shock.

· My mind stops... - sang Fred with his twin brother in chorus. "Ron and…Hermione?"

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Chapter

25 Under Borgin & Burkes

Weeks have passed since February, March is approaching. The snow has melted, nature is ready to come back to life and cover the hills with green.

The boredom of the days spent at the headquarters was pleasantly spiced up by the rumors about Ron and Hermione, thanks to Mrs. Weasley. To Harry's surprise, the topic aroused an express interest from the members of the Order, to whom the woman also did not forget to inform them of their relationship.

Some - like Lupine and Tonks - explained that it was about time, while others took notice of the romance with expressed shock. The ruddy Hestia Jones went so far as to burst out at the dinner table and announce to everyone that she had a sacred conviction that Harry and Hermione had been burning with love since time immemorial. The two people involved immediately left the dinner table and did not speak to anyone that day.

The learning also continued: Harry practiced the interesting summons of shadow magic and perfected his patronus, which took on the image of a dignified lion on the fourth try. Aunt Muriel remarked that she had never seen a bigger patron in her life.

The twenty-seventh of February was a pleasant Friday. Harry's awakening was no longer so pleasant.

· Potter! Potter!

Harry's eyes popped open – the shout of his name was like a cannon shot in the sleepy morning silence.

· Potter!

He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, but saw no one in his room—not even Ron in the next bed.

· Potter!

The voice came from under the pillow, and after a few seconds of surprise Harry realized what had been said. He took out the twin mirror from under his pillow and gaped when he saw Snape's face in it.

"You finally heard me," acknowledged Snape. "Meet me tonight at the Ollivander wand shop at ten o'clock." Bring the couple too, we can use them. Goodbye…

· Hey! Hey! Stop for a moment! Harry shouted at him. - Where did you get the other twin mirror? "From Miss Weasley, of course," Snape answered impatiently.

An icy anger flared inside Harry.

· What did you do with him, you…?

· I didn't do anything to him, you stupid kid! Snape snapped at him. - Miss Weasley is currently studying herbal medicine, I borrowed her mirror until then.

· How...? Harry groaned in shock.

· I don't have time to brush up on my plans, Potter, mainly because I highly doubt you could grasp it with your pitiful mental faculties! he sputtered. "Tonight." Ten o'clock. Ollivander's wand shop. With Weasley and Granger.

With that he disappeared from the mirror.

Harry sat on the bed with his head down for another ten minutes or so. His brain buzzed as dull as if he had been hit on the head by a stray gurgle. Nothing for weeks, and then Snape checks in as naturally and mysteriously as if they had met yesterday for a pleasant afternoon of tea. Also, from Hogwarts, the Gryffindor girls' bedroom, in broad daylight. It was more than Harry could take in at once.

When he took the new task into account, he put the mirror back in its place and went over to Hermione's room in the tower, where there were the brightest, most beautiful nets. He knocked on the door and waited.

More than a minute passed before footsteps were heard and the door opened a crack: a pair of large brown eyes appeared behind it.

"Hermione," Harry whispered. "Snake texted… are you naked?" Hermione hissed and retreated completely behind the door.

· No... no, I was just taking a bath, he said, and the part of his face that was visible was as red as the setting sun. "What about Snape?"

Harry shook his head barely perceptibly. He could have sworn Hermione was covered in nothing but a loose sheet.

· I said he texted first. Tonight…

He couldn't finish the sentence again. A loud, lion-level yawn drowned out the word coming from inside the room.

Harry and Hermione stared at each other, but only for a moment. The girl's face was no longer red and purple, like Uncle Vernon's in his worse moments.

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"Well…er…" Harry stammered. "Actually, there's nothing wrong with Snape… It just occurred to me." We'll talk about it after noon...

Hermione nodded profusely, Harry tried to smile calmly.

· Hi! - he waved to the girl and took a step or two backwards.

The door slammed shut and Harry staggered down the stairs in a waking coma, which resulted in him almost pushing Aunt Muriel up to her study.

Harry only saw Hermione and Ron again at lunch - they both avoided his gaze and sat far enough from each other and from Harry that there were at least two chairs between them.

After lunch, he was finally able to report on Harry Snape's order, which made him forget the morning incident and made the Horcruxes and the conspiracy the most important thing to discuss.

During the afternoon, they couldn't talk much about the night's task, because Mrs. Weasley entrusted them with cleaning, because according to her, it was time for the early spring cleaning to make the headquarters look like summer again.

The cleaning had tired them out, but the shower before dinner had re-energized Harry, Hermione and Ron.

Paulina sneaked upstairs after dinner citing sleepiness, at nine o'clock Mrs. Weasley announced that she too was going to bed, and not long after, Aunt Muriel made the same decision. Percy had already been pulling the horsehide in his room for a quarter of an hour, and Mr. Weasley had sent an owl during dinner to say that he was forced to spend the night in the Ministry.

The strange dream sickness struck both Harry and Ron, and his friend spoke of their luck after Mrs Weasley went up the stairs.

"It has nothing to do with luck," Hermione snapped. - I mixed a dream potion in their evening tea - he stated as naturally as if this was a daily custom at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry and Ron exchanged a startled look, but Hermione quickly distracted them from changing as the door to Mrs Weasley's bedroom slammed shut.

· Quietly, don't make any noise! the girl hissed.

Ten minutes later, they were ready (Hermione was impatiently waiting for them) and sneaked out of the house.

They immediately put on the invisibility cloak, so they could move at a snail's pace, safe from the watchful eyes of the owls.

It took almost three-quarters of an hour before they were out of range of the anti-de-hopping charm and could prepare for the hop- scooping. Under the invisibility cloak, they held hands and focused, then sprang away.

After the uncomfortable squeeze and a few seconds of suffocation, they arrived at their destination: the alley next to the Ollivander wand shop. When Harry opened his eyes, the scene involuntarily played in his mind, when Rose ran to Dumbledore who was waiting behind the building and fell backwards in the same small alley.

· Come on! Hermione whispered and grabbed Ron and Harry's wrists.

Their legs were sticking out from under the invisibility cloak, but in the darkness of the cloudy night this was not a danger.

They stepped out onto the cobbled Abszol Street, then immediately turned right along the wall and sneaked up to the door of the stick shop. Harry peeked through the gap in the cloak to see inside the shop. But between the boards nailed to the windows, only the outline of the pitch-black shop could be seen, it would not have been possible to make out even if there were thirty people waiting for them.

· Look here! Ron whispered excitedly. "This was burned through."

Harry ran his fingers along the boards holding the door to the frame, along which, from the facade all the way down to the floor, a straight, thin line ran as if it had been drawn with a ruler. You couldn't see it from a distance, because nothing was visible except for a few strands that had been torn out of place and a small burn mark.

"Sectumsempra..." Harry gaped almost without a sound.

· What did you say? Hermione looked at him.

Harry didn't answer. He pressed forward between Hermione's shoulder and Ron's chest, taking care not to push the cloak off them, then pointed his wand at the door and waved it lightly.

The door silently separated from the frame where the long burn mark stretched and exposed. Tiny wood shavings and twigs fell to the floor, but the door moved as quietly as if it had been cast a silencing charm.

Harry, Ron and Hermione slipped into the shop, but before they could close the door there was a long crack that was disturbingly loud in the stillness of the night.

· Damn it! Ron grumbled.

The edge of the invisibility cloak got caught in the rough surface of the cut board and cracked along.

Hermione hurriedly tried to free the cloak from the threads, which were grabbing more and more precious threads from the magical fabric.

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"I see you're protecting your dear father's legacy properly, Potter," said a mocking voice from somewhere in the darkness.

Harry huffed nervously, then pulled the cloak off his head. Ron and Hermione did the same when they finally freed the damaged things. The edge of the cloak frayed pitifully along the tear and lost its invisibility power.

Harry didn't even praise Snape for an answer, he lifted the end of the cloak and whispered the Reparo charm. The threads sprung to life and weaved back into place, but Harry was disappointed to find that the repaired part looked the same as it had been torn.

"You won't get very far with that," remarked Snape, stepping out of the shadows. He flicked his wand and an unadorned wooden chair, which he had been sitting on while waiting for the Harrys, disappeared behind him.

· If you had been paying attention in charms class, you would know that the demigod's fur, which your cloak is made of, only remains invisible as long as the fur thinks the animal is alive... - Snape whispered to Harry's grumpy image. "If it breaks, that part becomes unusable." "Congratulations," he grinned mischievously. - You just ruined a five hundred thousand galleon magical outfit.

Harry gave Snape a look of disgust, just to ease his bitterness and annoyance. Ron and Hermione avoided his gaze as he stuffed the ruined cloak into his pocket.

"Rather talk about how we get into Borgin & Burkes," Harry grumbled, wasting no time in saying hello, "neither does Snape."

· Don't worry about that - the man answered and walked in front of them with folded hands, then turned his back on them. "I want to show you something..." he started towards the back of the store, where boxes containing magic wands were lined up on long shelves. The shelves and boxes were covered in thick dust now, although Ollivander's shop had never been known for its spotless cleanliness.

· I asked something! Harry said, and Snape stopped and turned to him.

· You are naughty as always! Snape spat. - I didn't invite you here to spend hours explaining everything to stupid snots with a difficult understanding!

Harry raised an eyebrow and then nodded.

· Correct. On the other hand, not in sight! - he threw it to Snape, and then, ignoring Ron and Hermione's shocked looks, he started towards the front door. - Stop! Snape

ordered, but Harry didn't listen. "I told you to stop!"

· Harry! Be careful...! Ron shouted, but that was exactly what Harry was expecting.

PUKK! – and before Snape's anger-throwing freezing charm hit its target, Harry disappeared. With another pop, he appeared behind Snape. Before the man could realize what was happening, Harry had already disarmed him and held the wand to his throat.

· What will happen, Pipogyusz? Snape hissed into his face, which was distorted beyond recognition with rage. The man looked at him with a brutal face that Harry had only seen before Dumbledore's death.

· Oh, Harry, don't do it! Hermione wailed, visibly relieved that Snape didn't have a chance to curse Harry.

"Potter, get your sleazy wand off my neck, or else…"

· Anyway, what are you doing? Harry interrupted. "Are you looking even uglier at me?" Ron laughed softly, but Hermione shoved him aside.

· Listen here, you scumbag! Harry roared and grabbed Snape's jaw with his free hand. He tried to tear himself away from her, but Harry pushed him against the counter and continued to press his face. "I'm not your toy," Harry continued. "Nor

are my friends." If I ask, you answer, is that clear?

Snape didn't move, but he wanted to stab Harry with his eyes. Harry pressed his wand into the skin of his neck and Snape hissed.

· Is it clear? Harry repeated.

Snape nodded and Harry quickly let go of him and stepped back to let him compose himself. He looked up at his friends - Ron was visibly in complete agreement with what Harry was doing, but Hermione was doing what she did when Draco Malfoy was being lectured, her head down, staring at her shoes. Harry knew very well, he behaves like this when he doesn't agree with him, but he doesn't dare to intervene, because he also doubts his own truth. "He's been like this since Dumbledore died," Harry thought.

Snape straightened up, and just like after the duel in his apartment, he was dusting his clothes rather than tidying up his own battered appearance. Her hair was straggly around her pale face, and her expression was unchanged – though Harry recognized that strange, appreciative glint in her black eyes.

· How do we get into the laboratory? Harry asked again.

"I've already organized everything," answered Snape slowly. "Flint and Bulstrode captured Borgin's assistant a few days ago so that Borgin would be forced to handle his own affairs." And Narcissa Malfoy just sent him an owl tonight about a business offer he couldn't refuse... So Borgin is out today. And Narcissa makes sure that she doesn't even leave the Malfoy estate until morning.

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Harry snorted and tried to hide a grin - all sorts of female practicality on shields appeared in his head, with which Mrs Malfoy made old Borgin stay. Snape was particularly upset by this, because he immediately regained his anger and snapped at Harry: - Narcissa Malfoy is a golden-blooded,

noble witch! snapped Snape. "I don't expect you to understand what that means, but don't you dare make fun of it!"

"Sorry," Harry shrugged, but he didn't really mean the apology at all. Snape took a step closer to him (Harry casually raised his wand).

· I told you, Potter! he pointed his long index finger menacingly. "Be careful with your thoughts!" Finally study!

Harry frowned, then quickly lowered his wand and called Snape to him, who flew under one of the cupboards. He returned the magic tool to the man.

"Now you can tell me what you wanted to show," Harry said, looking at Snape's snarling mouth with cool satisfaction.

The wizard started walking back through the rows, and Harry followed – along with his two friends, who had barely moved from the entrance until now. Up until now, they had stood frozen from the argument between Harry and Snape, and they only got up when Harry waved at them.

They came to the back of the store, where there were two doors, both of which had been thrown out of their frames onto the floor. One led to the cellar, the other to an alley—this was the back entrance. The latter was boarded up by Ministry detectives after Ollivander was kidnapped.

· What do you want to show? Harry asked.

· The cellar - he pointed in the direction of the stairs leading down.

· What about him?

· When I came, I looked around here - explained Snape. "The cellar was ransacked." Nothing remained of the tools and instruments that Augustus Ollivander used to make his wands with his own hands, he gestured around the boxes on the shelves.

· So is anyone making wands with Mr Ollivander? Hermione saw through the situation.

"I think they only made him a wand, Granger," Snape answered. "I've always suspected that the Dark Lord personally kidnapped Ollivander for a reason..."

· In person? Ron interrupted. "Didn't you handle it with your Death Eaters?"

Snape looked at him, then after a short pause he

answered: "By all indications, it was because he wanted to keep the reason for the kidnapping a secret," he said. "Ollivander had to make a new wand for the Lord himself."

I assume you are aware,' he turned to Harry, 'that your wands can get confused when they have to fight against each other. The Dark Lord wants to prevent such a thing from ever happening again… He is preparing to destroy you, Potter,' he added.

Snape looked at him with a serious face, and Harry carefully stored this new information to himself. "Damn it!" he thought. One less chance to survive Voldemort's attacks…

Snape dusted the front of his robes a little more, then caught himself and cut between Ron and Hermione.

The Harrys followed him back to the shop where Snape walked to the front door without hesitation and opened it. Harry took the invisibility cloak from his pocket and proceeded to unfold it.

"Leave it, it would just slow it down," said Snape. "No one will see us..."

· Where do you get this? Hermione asked, more interested than demanding. He tried to act natural in Snape's presence.

Harry suspected that she still saw him as the kind of teacher a student should listen to. If you feel that way, you're mistaken, Harry thought. Snape is no longer a teacher and they are no longer students. That's why he had already decided to himself when they left that he would not be Snape's snitch and he would make this clear to him at the first opportunity. And it turned out better than he hoped... - he recorded what happened in the store itself.

Snape stepped outside and looked up at the cloudy sky. Satisfied, he ascertained that neither the stars nor the moon were still giving off any light, and then he began digging in the inner pocket of his black robe.

"Take this," he said and tossed something like a necklace to Harry, Ron, and Hermione who were hanging out at the door of the store.

Harry examined it more closely - it was a rune-encrusted stone talisman on a long leather strap.

· A disappointing charm? Hermione asked when she inspected the necklace and immediately put it on and hid it under her shirt.

"Yes," answered Snape. "It will do in this darkness." If someone is snooping, they won't notice us. Now come on.

Harry and Ron both put the necklace on, but they didn't notice any change. Trusting in the magical power of the talisman, they followed Snape to the other side of the street, where stood the barred window of the Magical Menagerie, with a barrel or two next to it, which, judging by the cloud of stench around it, must have been filled with manure.

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Snape and the three good friends following him walked along the winding Abszol Road in the shadows of the buildings. They passed Florean Fortescue's closed ice cream parlor, in front of the Weasley's Magic Joke Shop, and finally came to the first fork: the gently sloping alley of Zsebkosz köz leading to the "dark quarter".

Snape stopped here at the corner, waiting for the Harrys, turning his head from side to side. Harry highly doubted that he would be able to spot them like that if someone was following them, unless that someone was completely stupid and an amateur. However, Snape gave no sign of taking a closer look at the street, he started down the alley.

The Harrys did not hesitate, they followed the wizard who was walking with hasty steps, trying not to fall behind. They were in familiar surroundings as they ventured deeper and deeper into the multitude of shops selling black magic paraphernalia. Snape hurried past a vampire-only nightclub with a faint light coming from it; they left behind a shop selling poisonous candles and the "dark" counterpart of the Magical Menagerie, where various deformed, enchanted and possibly deadly animals could be purchased.

Snape finally stopped in front of the largest store, which according to the sign attached to the front was Borgin & Burkes. Harry, Ron and Hermione stood in line behind Snape, who was now facing them.

· You came after me, you weren't left behind! the man ordered, and the trio nodded. "You didn't touch anything in there!"

"We've been inside..." Hermione muttered, but Snape cut her off.

· The shop is now closed and Borgin cast a huge protective spell on it - he explained. "I will remove them, but if one of them goes into action because of you, you will regret it...!"

"It will be fine," Harry concluded the discussion and nodded to Snape in confirmation.

Snape turned his back on them, placed his wand in the keyhole and the lock clicked. The door opened inward and revealed the storeroom full of glass showcases and shelves, and every shelf, every showcase was crumbling with black magic paraphernalia.

Snape didn't move, he didn't cross the threshold, instead he lit a light on the tip of his wand. At first Harry thought the man was using the Lumos spell, but he was quite surprised when the purple flame dancing at the end of the wand jumped to the floor, split into several small tongues of flame and began to move back and forth in the shop. As the flames moved further in, as if searching for something, one of the flames ran across the floor like a long streak of fire. Then another one did the same, and then another - a total of seven streaks of purple fire ran along the pavement of the shop, before Snape hummed in satisfaction and entered the shop.

Ron shrugged and followed, as did Hermione and Harry. They could walk undisturbed among the shelves and showcases, no burglar alarm sirens sounded. Snape didn't explain the spell, but Harry was sure that where the purple flames ran across the floor in long, straight lines, magical boundaries could be hidden. Harry decided to himself that he would look up this spell in Aunt Muriel's library room.

· Where did the never-before-seen closet go? Hermione asked at once. "Through which the Death Eaters entered Hogwarts…?"

· Borgin took him away from here with his assistant so that they could not be accused of complicity, Snape answered. "He had to sweep the whole place to get rid of all the contraband." Bulstrode helped him - on higher orders.

He said that Borgin had a secret exit under the cellar. We have to look around there first.

Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded and followed Snape behind the counter to the back of the shop, just like Ollivander's wand shop. Snape pulled aside the black curtain and entered a small dusty room, where two desks (one with piles of documents, the other with various silverware), a drinks cabinet, an armchair and a safe made up the furnishings. On the wall hung an old painting of a greasy-haired, fat, bearded man—the shop's founder, Caractacus Burke. Burke was asleep, but Snape put a freezing charm on the painting to be safe so he wouldn't wake up and start yelling.

Harry wondered what had become of the old man after he drank Voldemort's green poison that brought him under his control. He recalled Dumbledore's words that after Voldemort killed Hepzibah Smith, he disappeared shortly after. The memorial picture seen in the Hall of Souls probably happened between the murder and the disappearance, and maybe after that Voldemort released Harry's grandmother as well - and that's when Dumbledore found her.

As Harry pondered this, Snape, with a loose flick of his wand, rolled up the brown carpet that stretched across the cold stone slab, sending dust flying as if the entire carpet was made of it. Underneath it was clear that one of the stone slabs could be moved, they even had a recessed handle made for it, though Harry didn't quite understand why. He did not think it likely that Mr Burke or Mr Borgin had ever employed quibbles in their shop. Snape frowned as well, but he didn't particularly care. He lifted the stone slab out of place, revealing a steep stone staircase below. The hole and the passage were extra wide to accommodate larger chests and forbidden magical items in the basement if the Ministry's men raided it.

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Snape went forward again, not wasting a word on the company. He quickly jumped down to the fourth step, which was almost vertically below them, and started with his head down. Before disappearing into the passage, he turned back with a hunch.

"Weasley, come after me," he ordered them. "Then Potter and Granger at the back."

Harry and his two friends exchanged glances but didn't ask questions, they did as Snape said. Neither the place nor the time was suitable for unnecessary questions.

The stairwell was more than uncomfortable, especially for Ron, who was as tall as Snape and had to keep his head down if he didn't want painful bruises on his bum. When they got down, they came to a half-cave - half-cellar-like cavity with a rammed earth floor. Snape's wand gave them a light, but soon Harry's turned on a light as well. In the cellar there were three or four heavy chests and half a dozen barrels in one corner, and there was room for a few more chests.

· A secret chamber opens from here - Snape enlightened them. Bulstrode said that he and Borgin had floated down the chests until now, the old man had not shown him the secret chamber. He only mentioned it after Bulstrode put him down…" Snape snorted and walked around the cellar.

Harry, Ron and Hermione also came inside, to the center of the room. Harry couldn't find any clues at first glance, but he suspected that the door must be looked for in the place where the foundation of the building above them extends down. A rough brick wall rose from the left hand side, and it continued in the rock wall on the right. These supported the beams running overhead, on which - Harry only now noticed - were hung empty cages and a bent, hanging candlestick.

Snape slowly turned his head around the walls and beams before settling on the candlestick.

· Pathetic... - he growled and smiled darkly at her. "Borgin doesn't have as much trouble with disguise as a blind troll."

"That's good to hear," Harry commented. "So you know where the secret door is?"

· Yes, here, under our feet.

The Harrys instinctively took a step back, and Snape cast his spell again: the purple flame appeared again, which landed on the pounded ground and almost immediately ran in a large, zig-zag circle between Snape and Harry.

The purple fire danced merrily and illuminated the faces of those present with an interesting light together with the flame of the sticks.

Snape made intricate movements with his wand, Harry thought he detected a transfiguration charm. The rammed earth inside the purple circle of fire transformed into a trapdoor made of planks. The trap door for another wave of the wand

rose and the fire went out.

· That's it! Hermione whispered excitedly, and Ron also looked hopefully at the new hollow below them. "The order is the same," said Snape, and he jumped down the hatch.

Ron immediately followed, and Harry heard the splash of water echoing under their feet. Harry sprinkled a water-repellent charm on his boots, then jumped down after Ron. He came to a canal, which could have been part of the system running under the city. The smell of garbage and rot immediately hit his nose, but the stench was still tolerable. He helped Hermione down, and then they set off after Snape. The channel was also closed directly behind them, bordered by a solid, seemingly impenetrable concrete wall, at the bottom of which there was a latticed gap, through which the water could continue to flow.

Following Snape, they came to a fork in the canal, which led up to a small flight of steps to the right into a dry hollow – it was completely dug out of the ground. From where Harry stood, you could see a few crates and barrels, the same ones that were in the basement above them. Runes were scratched into the concrete wall of the canal.

"There's a magical protection here too," said Hermione to Snape, and she had to raise her voice because the gurgling of the water was getting louder.

· We are not interested in that - he answered a little louder. "This could be Borgin's secret chamber." We need to find the laboratory. It should also be here based on the memory Evans showed Potter…

· Yes, but in which direction? Harry asked. "Straight or left?" "We should split into two groups," Ron suggested aloud.

Snape shook his head.

· We have to stay together. The entrance will be hidden, you won't be able to find it on your own...

Harry agreed with Snape, and after nodding, the man immediately started walking down the canal to the left. Hermione also left the runes there and followed them in the agreed order.

Snape stopped after a few meters, and Ron, who was walking behind him, bumped into his back. Snape turned back and whispered something in his ear. Ron also turned to give Harry the message.

· Put out your wand, there are people up there, they can see you - he pointed to the channel opening a few meters from Snape, where the light of magic wands was actually filtering down into the channel.

Harry did as Ron said and passed the message on to Hermione.

They continued almost blindly, seeing each other only in the narrow circle of light of the manhole cover. Here Harry involuntarily looked up and saw some wizards talking about five meters above their heads. Their voices were drowned out by the gurgling of the water, which seemed to be gurgling in the canal next to their passage. When they passed under the opening, Snape lit his wand again, and so did Ron, Harry, and Hermione in turn. They were only ten meters away from the fork when the light shone on an equally upward flight of stairs that also led to Borgin's chamber.

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Snape ran up the stairs, followed by Harry, and they immediately found themselves in a dry place protected from water. They were surrounded by rammed earth and a hollow, and there was no sign of a door - but that didn't surprise Harry in the least. Even Borgin's trapdoor would have been difficult for him to find, and the attempt would be hopeless against Voldemort's cloaking magic.

Snape shook the water off his boots, then walked up to the wall without a word and put his hand on it. Harry knew what was coming: Snape was trying to locate the entrance using the same cryptic hunch method that Dumbledore had done in the beach cave. More than five minutes passed in silent waiting, during which Snape concentrated hard and walked around the hollow, but judging by the signs, he found nothing.

Harry found himself thinking back to Dumbledore, how cheerful he was, or at least pretended to be, while he and Harry were hunting for the horcrux. He called it a primitive idea that Voldemort had placed a door in front of them that required blood to open. Will the key to opening the laboratory be primitive for Snape as well? Harry reminded himself that Dumbledore and before him Regulus Black had successfully gotten through Voldemort's traps with a companion. If so many were able to do it, they still have a chance now.

· Did you find anything? Hermione asked hopefully.

Snape remained silent for a moment before shaking his head.

"No," he said, but there wasn't an iota of discouragement in his voice, although Dumbledore's serenity was missing from it. "We have to look elsewhere." We go back to the fork.

Snape went down the stairs back into the ankle-deep water, and Ron instinctively followed him, then Harry and Hermione.

Harry descended the slippery stone steps with similar agility, but despite Hermione's careful steps, he slipped.

· Yay! she shouted as she lost her balance and grabbed Harry's cloak by the neck. This resulted in Harry's feet slipping out from under him and falling forward into the canal. He stopped the impact with his hand, the water splashed in his face, but when Hermione landed on him, his face was submerged for a moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whined as she pulled her friend up.

"It's okay…" Harry mumbled and took off his glasses to wipe them on a dry tip of his cloak. However, the glasses were as dry as if they had never touched water.

Harry raised an eyebrow and put his glasses on.

· Come on! Ron told them, and Snape waited with folded arms.

"Right now," Harry said, and still feeling strange about the previous situation, he bent down and took some water from the canal in his hand. It ran off his palm as if he had cast a water-repellent charm on it.

Maybe he messed up the charm and accidentally turned his entire body water repellent?

"Hermione," he said to the girl, who was impatiently standing on the bottom step. "Look at this water..."

· For what? he asked, but bent down and dipped his hand in it. The water bounced off him just the same. "Wow..."

· Isn't that normal? Harry asked hopefully. Hermione shook her head.

· Snape! Harry said a little louder. Ron and Snape came right back.

"What's so interesting, Miss Granger?" Snape asked the girl who was splashing water with her fingers. Harry answered for him.

"I think we found the key to the secret," he looked into Snape's eyes, who listened with interest. "The water… it could be like it was in the beach cave. It's like it's coming together by itself... It doesn't even ripple like normal water, you see - he pointed along the bottom of the channel with a glow stick.

Snape also started looking at the water, after a few tries he dipped his hand in it and held it there until he turned blue from the cold. The man was not bothered by this at all, rather he looked surprised.

"The water is enchanted," he declared.

I realized that too, said a small voice in Harry's head. Snape looked at him reproachfully.

"The danger was the water in the cave," Harry remarked, shoving the sarcastic thought into the background.

· I think this is a different kind of place than the cave.

· Why do you think? Harry wondered.

"Because of Hufflepuff Helga," answered Snape. "For Slytherin's pendant, the danger was water, here I think it's the earth... And for Hollóháti, it's the air..." he added half-heartedly, muttering.

He stood up and went back into the hole, hands on hips and began to look around again.

· Then why is water enchanted...? Ron was puzzled.

Snape was a little late in answering.

· The water... - he said and stomped back down the stairs -... Slytherin's home. The earth is a Hufflepuff… But it is the water that rules over it…

Harry couldn't have imagined a more puzzling answer, but Snape didn't intend it to be a satisfactory explanation either. He pointed his wand at the trickling water in the sewer.

At first Harry thought the water level was rising rapidly, but then he realized what was actually happening: the drops were starting to flow up the steps and collect in a small puddle on the floor of the cave.

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Snape lowered his wand, and then the small pool began to flow in thin streams. It ran up the wall like the purple flames had on the floor of the store earlier, and Harry saw them take shape.

The water showed the location of the high door in the wall of the cave. Snape smiled in satisfaction and turned back to the shocked trio. "We found the entrance," he said.

He walked over to the designated door and put his hand on it again. The Harrys came up to the hollow and watched. Snape soon finished his concentration and moved away from the door.

· We need blood... - he growled. "I expected it." Same trick…

· Are you surprised by this? Harry muttered and Snape pulled out a silver knife.

He made a small cut on the top of his right hand and smeared the blood on the door. Harry had no intention of offering like Dumbledore, but Snape didn't seem to expect him to either.

For a few moments, nothing happened, only the blood stain stained the wall - then the water vessels arranged in the shape of a large door froze in the trench they had deepened. There was the sound of something heavy and large cracking along the ice-frozen veins from the door's separated frame, then it opened with a loud screeching noise.

Harry and Snape looked at the entrance to the laboratory with satisfaction, but Ron and Hermione looked distinctly nervous as Harry looked back with a hopeful smile. Ron swallowed visibly, and Hermione clutched her wand with trembling hands.

"Let's go," said Snape and entered the room.

Now they didn't go according to the agreed order, Harry didn't wait for Ron, he almost went ahead with Snape. The stone-walled cave was just as unadorned and oppressive as when he had seen it in the Hall of Souls. All around, along the walls, stood the same rough wooden tables and cabinets, but the iron teeth of time had not spared them. Had Voldemort forgotten to put a protection charm on them? Harry mused. Attention was drawn to the pillar rising in the center of the laboratory and the bowl on top of it that evoked horrible memories in Harry

· however, the greenish glow was missing this time.

Harry looked up at the ceiling and found that the light that had once illuminated the narrow gap and the mirror system that used it had disappeared in the meantime, as had the special cauldrons. There was only one left, and it was full of water.

Snape and Harry immediately went closer to the bowl resting on the pillar, devoting their attention only to it, but Ron and Hermione looked around curiously. They didn't dare touch anything - which Harry thought was a very good idea for his part, but they looked at the instruments, test tubes, and vials lined up on th-e, shelves of the glass-walled cabinet with admiration mixed with fear.

The light from their wands illuminated more and more details, and Harry found himself faced with a series of mysteries, and by the look on Snape's surprised face, he knew that he was also surprised by what they found: As

they walked around the hall, it immediately became apparent to them that the rammed earth floor was like a storm. he would have sledded along it, it was wavy and almost half covered the legs of the tables, the cupboards and the column. It's as if a high tide has buried sunbeds left on the beach with sand.

Another strange thing was the half-buried skeleton lying next to the column, from which the crumbling black cloak was still hanging. Harry glanced at Snape, who was frowning at the corpse.

· Oops! Ron's voice came from behind them. "Have we been overtaken again?" "No," said Snape, when he took a closer look at the bowl. "Here it is..."

At the bottom of the bowl lay the tiny golden glass, with a handle on both sides and a badger pattern carved on the side.

Harry's heart raced as he caught sight of Helga Hufflepuff's surviving relic. He understood in his mind that he was standing here at another stop on the road to the end of the war, but his heart still could hardly believe that they had reached this point. He looked at his two friends with a disbelieving smile. Ron was looking at the horcrux with a puzzled expression and Hermione was blushing, but they both felt the significance of the moment.

Snape was much more down to earth as usual, Harry wasn't surprised by that. The man pointed his wand at the glass and whispered the control charm. Thin smoke rose from the glass, quickly settled into a small cloud, and began to shape the contours of a pale face...

Then it dissipated immediately.

· How did you get in here?

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Snape spun around on their axis. A man stood in front of the ancient cabinet of the old laboratory. She was tall, her black hair falling elegantly over her shoulders.

· What...? Harry moaned dully when he recognized the man.

He didn't need half a second to do this, since he knew this face as well as his own in the mirror.

Young Tom Denem stood before him.

Ron and Hermione pointed their wands at him with shaking hands, as did Snape unflinchingly, but recognition hadn't yet dawned on his face.

· I asked something! Voldemort's voice snapped. "How did you find this place?"

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He came closer then, and Harry could make out more details on the form of his mortal enemy: his outlines were blurred, as if a light mist had settled on Harry's glasses - but no such thing happened. Tom Denem was just a ghost, and it didn't take Harry long to find the explanation: the soul slice had come out of the horcrux, as it had a few years ago from the diary in the Chamber of Secrets. He was wearing the same black robes, suit and white shirt that Harry had seen him wearing in Rose Evans' memories. He wore black gloves and loosely held a battered magic wand.

"H-harry..." Hermione whispered in a trembling voice. "Is that…him?"

Harry nodded and Ron swallowed. Snape looked at Harry with a surprised face, but immediately turned his attention back to Denem. Harry really hoped that Snape's magic was on par with the twenty-year-old Voldemort's, although he wasn't quite sure…

"You left traces," Harry replied to Denem. "And we know you."

· Do you know each other? Voldemort frowned.

"Yes," Harry replied. "But how did you…how did you get here?" - he tried to put it carefully, he couldn't know how much it would be advisable to reveal to this Denem.

Voldemort came even closer, and with that Ron and Hermione quickly backed away. Harry reminded himself that his friends were coming face to face with Tom Denem for the first time.

"Many years ago, two fools tried to rob my laboratory," he answered. "They didn't expect that I had armed myself against break-ins... This fool stayed here, a victim of the halls... and me."

Let alone rob! Harry thought, but first carefully looked away from Voldemort. He looked at the skeleton and the picture began to come together. Regulus might have tried to steal this horcrux as well, but he failed and only he managed to escape due to Voldemort's protection spell. His companion - perhaps the same one with whom he robbed the cave - was stuck here.

Voldemort didn't dare take his eyes off the intruders, and Harry suspected why. Thus, half-animated, he can only possess a fraction of his magic power.

· Is that why you came? Denem asked. "You want to rob?" Harry and Snape looked at each other. Harry shrugged.

"Yes," he declared. "As I can see, there's nothing you can do to prevent it." Denem's face flashed with fear mixed with anger.

· What are you talking about? he hissed.

"During the last robbery, your defenses were destroyed," Harry continued, wondering when Snape would intervene. But he did nothing of the sort.

· Do you really believe that? Denem growled and pointed his wand at Harry.

Harry also held his wand at the ready, but crossed the fingers of his other hand. Why isn't Snape doing something already? Break the horcrux and you're done! Scramble…

· Ig... - he didn't even finish his confident answer, when the figure of Tom Denem disappeared in front of him.

Hermione screamed and Ron shot a red beam of light at Snape in fear, but missed. As soon as Harry caught sight of the wizard standing next to him, he immediately noticed what had caused the terror in his two friends.

Snape's body was surrounded by a black snake-like cloud of smoke from his feet to the crown of his head. The smoke snake's eyes burned red in the dim light of the laboratory as the shackles tightened around Snape's body. Then the snake looked into the man's eyes, then burrowed its entire length like a parasite into its victim. The whole thing lasted a single terrifying second.

Snape crouched down and writhed and screamed in pain or fear. Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth in horror, and Ron didn't know what to do. As Snape's pain began to subside, Harry knew he was beginning to give in to the suffocating will - Voldemort possessed him.

Harry didn't hesitate, quickly disarming Snape before he could turn on them. He hadn't expected Voldemort to possess one of them, but in hindsight he had to admit that his choice was obvious. Snape was the oldest and most experienced of the four, which is why Voldemort singled him out.

Hermione also began to recover from the shock as Harry conjured tight ropes around Snape's wrists – for now he was gagged on the ground grunting.

· Wait! Don't break it, Harry stopped Hermione when he noticed her pointing her wand at the glass.

· Harry, what are you talking about? Hermione looked at him. "That's why we came

and... and - Shut up!" Harry shouted, and Hermione was so startled that she forgot to protest. "Get out of there, let's go!" - Harry was a little ashamed that he was really ordering the girl, but now he couldn't do anything else... Voldemort regains consciousness in Snape's body within minutes.

Ron also looked at Harry like he was shocked, but he didn't say a word. Despite her best beliefs, Hermione squirmed back to Ron's side and grabbed the sleeve of his robes.

Snape stopped gagging. He slowly straightened up as much as the ropes would allow. He knelt on the ground in front of Harry and as Voldemort took control of his mind his eyes cleared and the same searing fire could be seen in the black eyes that Denem had.

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· Do you still think I'm defenseless? he asked.

Harry gasped a little at what had just happened, but quickly regained his composure. You must remain calm.

"No, I admit I was wrong," said Harry. "You are not defenseless, but the current situation is not favorable for you either." Snape-Voldemort frowned but didn't protest. He tugged a little on the rope around his wrists, but quickly gave up.

"You came to rob," was the accusation, but it was more of a statement than a question. Harry took a middle path.

· I'm looking for the treasures left by the founders - he answered after a calming sigh.

Voldemort stared at Harry, not turning his head to one side. Harry noticed this and decided he had better bring up the subject.

"I found two," he announced. "I found Slytherin's snake-decorated medallion and now Hufflepuff's golden goblet."

Voldemort's face showed no emotion, although Snape's body was panting slightly. The question flashed through Harry's mind as to whether this was a sign of Voldemort's restlessness or whether Snape himself was breathing so terrified in the monster's clutches. Harry continued: -

I'm still looking for the relic of Hedvig Ravenclaw. I know you found these, I've heard a lot about you...

Voldemort's eyes lit up greedily. Harry wasn't surprised at that either. He is now talking to young Tom Denem, who has no idea where his alter ego Lord Voldemort has gone.

"I'm just as interested in these treasures," Harry continued to hammer the iron, paying attention exclusively to Snape-Voldemort. He sincerely hoped that the expressions on the faces of Ron and Hermione behind him were not too revealing. "I have the same reasons as you." I'd really like to find what's left of Ravenclaw, Harry said, adding a suitably longing look.

Voldemort remained silent for several minutes. Harry could read almost no emotion on his face – he was obviously an Occlumency… but he seemed to detec-,t a sly glint in the black eyes.

"So you betrayed me..." Voldemort said finally.

Harry was prepared for such questions - he had thought it all through in the five fleeting minutes as Snape writhed on the floor in agony.

· No, he kept his secret - he answered.

Voldemort couldn't hide his emotions now. Surprise appeared on his face, but he hid it almost immediately behind a mask of calmness.

"Dumbledore also tried in vain..." Harry added ironically.

· Dumbledore? snapped Snape's voice. "Did he send you here?"

"No, he doesn't know I'm here," Harry said honestly. "I didn't know exactly which founder's treasure I would find here... If you help me, I won't take Hugrabug's golden cup from here." I don't need…

Snape-Voldemort's eyes glinted slyly again.

· No? he asked. "But it's worth a lot... You can't even imagine how much."

· But, I know, just believe it - Harry nodded and remained silent for a moment. Then he suddenly stepped closer to the man kneeling on the ground. "But I'm not interested in money, just like you are."

Snape-Voldemort listened for a long time. Harry's comment seemed to shake his head.

· What do you know about me? Voldemort asked loudly. "What happened to me in my later life?" Harry swallowed hard but answered.

· You were a very great wizard, but... - Voldemort's smoldering eyes narrowed, he licked the corner of his mouth nervously.

-, but they were defeated.

· You were destroyed, yet you survived... You are a true legend - Harry bowed his head and shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

"Of course… of course…" Voldemort muttered. "The end can happen to everyone... but there is always another opportunity." There is always hope…

Harry said nothing and Voldemort fell silent again. Harry cleared his throat impatiently, but Voldemort ignored him. Then he finally looked up into Harry's face again.

· We look alike, you know? he noted. "The same green eyes… -… and the same raven black hair…" Harry added, pressing the raven word. "And I'm an orphan just like you."

Voldemort fell silent again.

"We both want to learn more about our ancestors..." whispered the well-known Snape voice. Harry leaned forward.

· Will you help me? he asked with childish excitement in his voice.

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Snape-Voldemort laughed. It was a different laugh than what he was used to from Snape, although the sound was the same. The way his grinning face contorted and he laughed with his head slightly bowed, you could recognize the bestial, satanic joy characteristic of Denem behind Snape's features.

· Yes, I will help you find Hollóhát's descendants - came the answer after the laughter stopped. "You must know that I myself did not find any traces of Hedvig Hollóháti's surviving treasure until the twentieth year of my life."

I don't know anything about what happened to me after that...

Harry listened intently, now crouching in front of Snape-Voldemort, inches from him.

· My research started at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Voldemort continued the report. - It took me a long time to find a clue, I had to go through every painting and letter I could find, until the last piece. Watching the names, the relatives... It was long and tiring work, but it led me to Hugrabug's descendants... - Voldemort grinned satanically again. "You can also find a clue to Hollóháti in the same way." The only person who could have helped me was the Gray Lady… So you're saying she didn't tell me that she helped me track down the descendants? This surprises me…

Harry kept his mouth open. The solution was always at Hogwarts, of course! Voldemort grinned.

· I see, you understand... I talked to the Lady about the branching bloodline, but I asked her not to reveal the same to anyone. If you can convince him, he can lead you to Hollóháti... to your ancestors... to your heritage... sure!

Harry cleared his throat.

· Thank you for your help!

Snape-Voldemort was still grinning. And Harry was perfectly aware of why.

He stood up, shook his numb legs, then walked over to the bowl, at the bottom of which lay the golden glass tilted on its side.

· A masterpiece, right? he looked at Voldemort.

He nodded. Now Harry forced a similar evil grin onto his face, though it was nowhere near as effective on him as it was on his enemy.

"What a shame..."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow in question.

· It would belong in a museum… not as a horcrux for a worm like this.

Snape-Voldemort's face then showed icy horror, then raging anger. His eyes glowed red, and a smoke snake came out from behind Snape's skull screeching in an otherworldly voice, but it didn't reach Harry anymore.

Purple flash - loud crack - then silence.

The smoke snake dissipated the moment Harry smashed the glass. The gold shards rested at the bottom of the bowl.

"Uhhhh..." groaned Snape, who fell helplessly forward as soon as Voldemort left his body. Harry and Ron rushed over to him and reached under his arm to lift him up.

· Collect everything you find in the closet! Harry said and started dragging Snape out of the cave.

Ron and Hermione looked at him puzzled.

· Come on! Get moving! Go too, Ron - Harry urged them, and his two friends immediately obeyed. Harry took Snape out alone and sat him down on the cold stairs and immediately conjured a goblet.

· Adjustments!

The goblet filled with water, but by the time it reached Snape's lips, there was nothing in it.

· How is that...! Harry grumbled and slammed the glass against the wall. "The same sleazy trick..."

He didn't want to make Snape drink sewage (he'd had enough of the suffering for today, Harry thought), so for lack of a better way, he started gently slapping him to make him come to his senses.

He looked up into the laboratory – Ron and Hermione were standing at the cupboard, sweeping silverware, vials and papers into a Bottomless Bag.

"One more slap, Potter, and a thousand points from Gryffindor..." Snape moaned in a dying voice.

Harry grinned and reached under Snape's arm again when Ron and Hermione finished. The door to the room then closed automatically - Harry thought he might have sensed that everyone had left the laboratory.

"I'm sorry I didn't break the glass right away," Harry blurted out as they started down the canal, but…-,

"Don't be sorry," snapped Snape. "You did great..."

· Did you hear everything? Harry was surprised. Snape nodded weakly. "But... when he possessed me, I didn't feel anything from the outside world!"

Snape weakly raised his hand and tapped his own temple with his index finger. "Occlumency, Potter…" he mumbled. "Occlumency..."

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Harry sighed and hung his head.

They came to a fork where they had to turn right. His two friends followed, Ron stuffing the Bottomless Sack back into his coat pocket and Hermione hopping behind Harry.

· How did you do it? she finally called out. "You heard me," Harry shrugged.

· But he must be legitimized... or not?

"Yeah, sure," Harry nodded. – except that I didn't lie to him even once. Voldemort lied to himself, Hermione!

She looked at him with a mixture of shock and respect.

· But why did he help you find Hollóhát's treasure? Ron joined the conversation. Harry grinned.

"He wanted to trap you, Ron," he answered brightly. "You remember, he was interested in knowing if I knew anything about his real self." I replied that he was defeated, but he survived - that's true, he couldn't have been caught in a lie.

I just didn't say that he has since returned and has a body again. Apparently he thought he had to take every opportunity to get a body again. After all, that's what a horcrux is for, isn't it?

Ron shook his head and looked uncertainly at Hermione. "I still don't understand," said the boy.

"Listen…" Harry said as they arrived at the trap door that led to Borgin's cellar. – I suggested to him that I wasn't looking for the founders' treasures because of their value, but out of pure passion – like him.

I told him I didn't want to take Huggrabug's gold cup, which was true, too. Voldemort... - (Snake's eyes flashed tiredly) - Sorry... You know, he immediately asked me why I didn't want to take the cup.

He wanted to persuade me to take him with me, to see if I would fall under his influence... Then when I said that I didn't want to take him, I made him realize that I was interested in Hollóhát's treasure. He understood then that I was a descendant of Hollóháti, especially after I told him that I was an orphan like him and that our goals were similar...

Legitimate, he could sense that I wasn't lying. And then he got the chance to lead me to the horcrux, whatever it was.

· But he didn't even know what it was yet! Hermione objected.

Snape sighed tiredly and waited for them to help him up the trapdoor, but the three good friends were so engrossed in the conversation that they forgot where they were.

· True, but he tracked down the descendants! Harry snapped. - And from there it will be one step to figure out where he hid it... In fact, it is also possible that the descendants simply still have the thing. Like his family ring: he simply left it in the old Gomold house.

Ron and Hermione nodded. -

And how did you play the legilimency? - Hermione continued to question, but Snape answered instead of Harry:

· With skillful subject changes, he said in an appreciative but tired voice. He still showed the exhaustion of the occupation. – This is the only way out of legilimency if someone cannot occlumency... The conversation must be steered into new paths, paths that the legilimentator pays attention to, not the emotions arising from the previous question...

· Couldn't it be a little less puzzling...? Ron interjected hopefully.

"The point is that you control the conversation, Weasley!" Snape raised his voice as much as he could.

· The other party should pay attention to what you say and there should not be a single lie in it - then he will not realize the ugliness...

"To tell the truth, to lie…" Hermione rumbled.

Harry nodded and looked up at the gaping void above them. The ceiling was a good two meters high; it will be hard to climb, Harry thought.

"You did fantastic Harry," Hermione praised, but Harry modestly waved. However, inside, he himself was burning with pride for making a fool of Voldemort. Plus one less Horcrux!

Harry found himself wanting to dance for joy again. He made up his mind right away that when they got home to the Prewett house, tonight would be a night of celebration.

· Can we get out of here?

Snape's tired, impatient voice pulled Harry back to reality, but Hermione had already taken care of the ascent. They climbed up on a pre-enchanted chair (Harry and Hermione first, helping Snape up, and Ron climbing up last to catch him

if the wizard's limp muscles gave way), then up the stairs the same way they came down and left the shop. Snape restored the magic lines and then closed the shop. Half an hour later, they were already walking back in the darkness of Abszol út.

· Listen here! Snape said as they slipped into the alley next to Ollivander's wand shop. "You're not going to do anything private, is that clear?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded.

"Right," Snape continued sternly, having almost completely regained his vitality and sternness. "You studied at the Prewett house, you didn't tell anyone about anything... But this time you'll also get a task."

Harry's eyes lit up and he looked at his two friends.

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· What Denem said about the Gray Lady... look it up at Hogwarts! Snape issued the task. – Denem told how he came across the bloodline: the paintings and letters in the school's archives. It's a long job, but this will be your task. Leave the rest to me, okay?

The three good friends nodded and were about to jump when Snape grabbed Ron's arm.

· I say, leave the rest to me! he said again more emphatically. Ron looked at him puzzled. "The sack, Weasley!"

· Yes...! Ron realized and reluctantly handed over the Bottomless Bag. Snape looked it over with his wand, then folded it in his hand.

"That was a good idea, Potter," Snape smiled, but his eyes remained serious. "Now it's a symptom!"

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26. fejetia

Finish Son!

No one at HQ noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione's disappearance. However, none of them had the strength for the planned celebration to take place, they went back to bed before the first rays of the rising

sun and slept until noon. Later, when they woke up, they were very glad that they had already done their part of the cleaning the day before, so Mrs Weasley let them sleep. He only knocked on the door when dinner was already on the table.

A week had already passed since the events that had taken place in the laboratory, Ron's eighteenth birthday had been celebrated in close family circles (this time without the love potion and poison), and as the days passed, Harry felt it was time to throw himself into the thick of the events again. Not only did they have to follow Snape's instructions and search for the descendants of Ravenclaw, interrogate the spirit of the Hogwarts Gray Lady - if the notoriously silent ghost-girl is willing to talk to her - but they also had another task waiting for them.

He thought a lot about the skeleton he saw in the laboratory and the circumstances of the attempted robbery that turned into a tragedy, and he came to the decision that instead of a single route, it would be better to take two routes. He hadn't told Ron or Hermione about this yet, nor when they intended to visit Hogwarts. Ron had explained to him that it would be difficult to convince his mother to let them go, which was why Harry woke up on the sixth of March with a plan in mind. The morning before, he had spied what time Mrs Weasley, who was known to be the earliest riser in the family, usually woke up.

Harry had set his alarm clock for five in the morning, so he crept down the stairs in pitch darkness. His first trip led him to the bathroom to wash the sleepiness out of his eyes - it took a while - and then he went to the kitchen and made a hot cup of coffee with a few flicks of a chopstick. He was not to be disappointed, Mrs Weasley came downstairs ten minutes later, wiping her eyes.

- Harry! he was surprised to see the boy. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I couldn't sleep, Mrs. Weasley," lied Harry, smiling kindly at her.

The woman walked over to the kitchen counter and tiredly pulled out her wand. "Leave it, Mrs. Weasley," Harry stopped her. "Sit down, please."

"Thank you," the woman muttered sleepily as Harry placed a cup of coffee in front of her. He sipped the hot drink slowly.

· How did you sleep, Mrs Weasley? Harry asked politely.

· Well, just a little... - complained the woman. "I used to sleep more, just restlessly." Especially when we were at the other headquarters. It was so depressing, wasn't it for you?

"Well, a little bit," Harry replied.

"But he looks different now, I hear," continued Mrs. Weasley. "Alastor said you rearranged it nicely."

"I had to," Harry nodded. "It's no longer a house of black mages..."

· Yes... yes - the woman agreed amusedly. "That house didn't feel that safe somehow, did it?" It's much better here...

Harry suspected that Mrs Weasley was deluding herself.

"No place is completely safe," Harry shook his head. - That's why we have to take

care of each other! Mrs. Weasley raised her index finger. Then suddenly he softened and smiled. Harry looked at him questioningly.

· I won't say, I was surprised that Ron and Hermione are in love with each other... - the woman continued. "But I'm happy for him." At least this way they will take better care of each other - the smile melted from his face and he became gloomy.

He wringed his hands and Harry poured him another cup of coffee and handed it to him.

"Thank you…" muttered Mrs. Weasley again.

· Why do you think this place is safe? Harry asked.

· I don't know... Maybe because it's far from everything, but... - he sighed deeply and shook his head. "That's silly." Distance doesn't matter, they are everywhere.

"Don't worry, Mrs Weasley," Harry warned gently. "Leave that to Remszem."

Mrs Weasley laughed briefly and then sipped her coffee. The light of dawn was already visible beyond the window.

· Where would you feel us safe?

· Abroad! - snapped the woman. "Far from here." Where there are no Death Eaters. But I know that you wouldn't travel anyway, no matter how much I asked you... I don't even ask.

· Then only HQ, Balck House and Hogwarts can be considered, right? Mrs Weasley looked up at him with a frown.

· What have you planned again?

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Harry pulled himself together and said, "We

should go to Hogwarts and House Black." Not anywhere else, I promise.

Mrs Weasley lowered her head and stared into the empty cup. Harry said nothing more, waiting to see what the woman had to say. - I can't keep you

here forever, can I? he asked himself more than Harry. "Arthur always says that I should try to understand you better..."

He raised his head again.

· When do you want to go?

· This morning. Me to Hogwarts, Ron to House Black. And they keep in touch with Mr Weasley, me and McGonagall.

Mrs Weasley's answer did not take long. He nodded in agreement and just sat there for a few minutes.

Harry couldn't help but notice the fear and sadness in his eyes. But he couldn't deal with that right now, no matter how much he felt sorry for the woman.

Half an hour later, Mr. Weasley got up and soon left for work with a slice of buttered toast in one hand and the Breakfast Prophet in the other.

All Harry had to do was wait for his two friends to get up and convince them to listen to him. He could already hear Hermione lamenting, "But Harry, we have to do what Snape says. He knows what he's doing, it wasn't by chance that he ordered us not to engage in self- dealing."

Ron and Hermione joined him in the living room at seven in the morning. Meanwhile, Mrs Weasley went round the house to collect the laundry.

"But you woke me up," Harry said instead of greeting. "We can go!" Ron and Hermione looked at him in surprise.

· Did you convince mom to let you go? Harry nodded.

· Good! I was afraid it would be left to me... - Ron breathed. "Cowardly figure," Hermione put her hand on his arm, but smiled.

· Then you're off to good old Hogwarts?

Harry stood up from the armchair and put his hands in his pockets.

· No, you have other things to do - he said.

Hermione and Ron raised their eyebrows.

· What do you mean?

· I would like you to go to the Black house to investigate Regulus' close friends and acquaintances, with whom... Hermione was already shaking her head in protest.

"Harry, Snape made it clear what we're doing," he whispered, because that's when a sleepy-looking Percy walked behind them towards the kitchen.

Harry sighed. "Just as I imagined..."

· It's better to go on two routes instead of one, isn't it? Harry presented his idea. "I don't think Snape's idea of a world savior is anything new." There may have been a conspiracy among the Death Eaters a long time ago. We already know for sure about two traitors who hunted the Horcruxes. Maybe they found the last one.

Hermione plopped down on the sofa and Ron nodded in agreement.

· But Snape... - the girl began, then bit off the sentence and remained silent. His old inveterate confidence still hasn't returned. And Harry was genuinely happy about that.

"I don't care what Snape said," Harry said looking into her eyes. "I'm going to Hogwarts, you do what you want." I don't usually order you around, it was just a suggestion.

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he didn't care if Hermione was listening, but he really did. He went into the hall and pulled on his boots.

Hermione had already followed him, as she expected.

· Oh, don't do that! she asked. - Of course I'd rather listen to you. I was just surprised, that's all... I also thought that Snape must be looking after Regulus Black too...

· But Snape can't go into the Black house, and especially not into the ministry. And these are the two places where you can find the most treacherous Death Eaters.

Ron put a hand on Hermione's shoulder to stop her from wailing, but she didn't. Hermione also realized that it was a better idea to split up.

"Don't go to dangerous places," said Harry. "I promised Mrs. Weasley that you would only be at the Black house." Stay in touch with Mr. Weasley, he can help with the Ministry research. Tell Dobby if you need to get in, Ron, you'll know how to…

Ron nodded confidently.

· Correct. We will be able to talk through the twin mirrors. You can find it under my pillow. Good luck!

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