A private house in the London suburbs came under the control of five wizards in red robes in the blink of an eye. Under Muggle-Repelling Charms, they quickly secured the perimeter, and two of them burst into the house.
Without saying a word, holding their wands in front of them and checking every corner with quick glances, the wizards in red robes began to rapidly sweep the house for the wizards who had triggered the magical alarm.
A minute later, two wizards—or rather, a wizard and a young witch with violet hair—finished their inspection and entered the living room.
"Clear," the witch said into the amulet around her neck.
In an instant, the other three gathered in the living room as well.
"Thompson," the most senior one spoke, addressing one of the wizards. "Start searching for residual traces."
"Yes, sir," saluted Thompson, a young guy with chestnut hair, and immediately began waving his wand through the air.
The others waited but remained on alert.
"Fourth time this month," chuckled the only girl, the owner of the unusual hair color. "And for the first time, the intruder got away."
"You should also remember, Tonks, what kind of repeat offenders were caught here," the senior member of the group smirked. "Amazing, they're just drawn here."
"It's not for nothing that Mad-Eye asked to keep a particularly close watch on the house," Tonks smiled smugly, as if she were the one who had organized all the arrests.
"Not only that," the senior nodded. "A couple of anonymous reports claimed that the home of these Muggles might be subject to attacks. And in conjunction with Moody's request—that's already a wake-up call. And why did they catch everyone's fancy so much?"
"Don't you read the newspapers or something?" Tonks was surprised.
"I don't have the habit of reading those stupid newspapers before lunch. And they aren't sent out after."
"Basically, boss, the Grangers, brother and sister, Muggle-borns, and they are an incredible eyesore to everyone. Well, I approve of their zeal and all that," Tonks scratched her head, and her hair changed shade slightly. "But psycho relatives might not approve."
"Rubbish," one of the wizards scoffed. "Parents don't interfere in Hogwarts affairs until something special happens there."
"We're talking about normal parents," Tonks parried. "But there are all sorts of ex-cons, bought-off psycho Death Eaters, and other riff-raff who are relatives to someone."
"Got a trace!" shouted Thompson, who until this moment had been diligently and intently tracing various figures with his wand in the space of the hall. "Almost washed out."
"Forward, Thompson!" the senior commanded immediately. "We're right behind you."
Thompson nodded and instantly disappeared into the vortex of Apparition, and the rest of the five wizards in red robes disappeared after him.
On a spacious area by the very cliff in front of the sea shore, near the smoldering remains of a house, of which not even stone walls remained—only a pile of burnt junk, and miraculously surviving front door and porch—five wizards in red robes appeared, immediately bristling with wands in different directions.
"Somewhere here," Thompson said. "Can't say more precisely, a mile there, a mile here."
"I can tell you without that that you didn't miss," Tonks chuckled, looking at the remains of the house.
The cold wind from the sea ruffled the clothes and hair of the group of wizards, but this did not stop them from discovering three survivors lying on the grass not far from the smoldering fire.
"There."
The wizards quickly ran up to the dirty and disheveled people, holding them at gunpoint with their wands.
"Auror Office operating. Nobody move," the senior of the group said loudly and clearly.
Only now could the Aurors make out some details of the behavior of these three survivors. One of them was lying in a fetal position, whining, muttering something, trembling finely, and was generally in a deranged state. The other two tried not to move unnecessarily, and if they did move, then slowly. Terror and panic could be read in their eyes.
"Look who it is..." the senior Auror chuckled. "So you got caught, my darlings. Let's take them... We'll interrogate them at the Department."
. . . . . . .
Hogsmeade greeted me with the height of adequate amusements and walks, because the initial excitement had passed, and now many were strolling, laughing, eating all sorts of sweets and joyfully discussing strange novelties in the shops.
I was reluctant to join any companies, although they looked at me with some expectation—whether I should approach, and like: "Want to take a walk?", or they themselves were thinking about such a thing.
I didn't want to look for adventures anymore somehow, but returning to the castle ahead of time—was also not an option. As a result, my legs brought me to the Three Broomsticks, and I, adjusting the strap of the backpack that Dumbledore returned to me through the house-elves, decided to spend some time in this establishment. The pub was not particularly full, because it was popular with senior students only closer to the end of the day, so I got a table, albeit small, and in a not very convenient corner for gatherings, but with a good view of everything around.
Noise, din, conversations, Butterbeer or something stronger, various snacks or full meals exuded smells—all this mixed, and, oddly enough, gave an opportunity to think, or at least outline a direction for reflection. And I have something to think about.
For example, here is a question that remained unanswered—how was the family chosen for intimidating Muggle-borns, me and my little sister specifically in this case? Randomly from the list of such families where there is a child studying at Hogwarts? Or was our family purposefully chosen to intimidate precisely us? Who? No, not like that... To begin with, need to answer a simple, but extremely important question—who benefits?
Many can benefit. For example, the same Malfoys. Like, look what trouble happened, and all because your family, like you, is without protection, come to us or with us, blah-blah-blah. Can this be? Can. And maybe the legs of this action grow from the Greengrass family, because all indirect data speak of their dissatisfaction with the fact that I hang around Daphne. "Hang around" in all senses. It could be the Notts, because information collected by spiders here and there, dropped phrases and other indirect data speak of serious intentions of the Greengrass and Nott families to combine part of the assets for further prosperity and so on. Of course, if you believe scattered data from the library, and just the same conversations, even arranged marriages are not at all obliged to be concluded immediately after Hogwarts, and moreover, often such things happen at a much more conscious age. But nevertheless... Yes, nevertheless.
Butterbeer went well with such thoughts, and a couple of meat dishes that I ordered, even more so. New visitors to the Three Broomsticks came, old ones left, but there were enough places so far, and no one rushed to disturb my peace.
And now it is worth thinking about what I can do for the safety of parents. The first thing that comes to mind—home protection. But they don't sit at home around the clock. But this should still be the first point. Personal protection—here is a problem. Can make a pendant or something similar for protection, but it will work on a wizard, and on an ordinary person—unlikely. Energy needs to be taken from somewhere, and if a pendant with Lumos, a luminous trinket that I created for the sake of experiment, and which lies in my backpack... In general, if such a pendant is capable of working from background energy, because Lumos—is an extremely weak thing, and in artifact execution requires even less energy, then protection, and especially good protection, requires much more, and background energy simply won't be enough.
In general, it is worth attending to at least home protection. For the future.
Nott entered the Three Broomsticks, looked around and headed in my direction, unceremoniously sitting down at my table, right opposite me.
"Sitting?" with a smirk the guy looked at me.
"You show amazing observation, Mr. Nott," I answered in a tone so similar to Snape.
"Think soon you will moderate your Mudblood arrogance. Let's go outside."
In a silent question I looked at this self-confident guy, and Nott, getting up, only smirked wider.
"Don't be afraid, Granger, won't beat you."
"Fear, like respect, still needs to be earned," I chuckled in response, took out some change and left it on the table in payment for food and drink. "Let's go."
We left the Three Broomsticks and, ignoring groups of students scurrying back and forth, went into a narrow alley between two buildings. Of course, I was ready, but I don't think Nott planned something as insidious as an attack in an alley, and even with a bunch of witnesses who saw us entering here.
Two senior students from Slytherin were waiting for us there, and they stood trying to hold themselves as pompously as possible, sort of cool mafiosi, well or someone else—don't know what they play in their racist team.
We approached these smirking and very important characters, whom, by the way, I did not observe in the Dueling Club, and yet it seemed to me that all older guys, and especially Slytherins, should be there.
"Here, look," Nott threw me a familiar ball with stand-legs, which I immediately intercepted in the air. "And remember that next time the result may be irreparable."
"Hm?" I turned the ball in my hands.
"Ha-ha-ha," the Slytherins laughed, but only Nott continued to speak, seemingly as the initiator. "Was it possible to expect from a Mudblood that he knows how to use such things?"
"You are simply phenomenally petty," with a smirk, I sent a little magic into the ball with the message "Activate, show image".
A volumetric image of the living room of our house appeared in the air, and that very unpresentable man was sitting on the sofa. The faces of the Slytherins expressed anticipation.
"Oh, our house," I stated the fact, giving a little surprise to the voice. "Have you already watched?"
"I decided that I would look at the warning to you together with everyone," Nott chuckled.
Need I say exactly what picture the Slytherins saw? The entire scene arranged by me, from beginning to end. And their faces expressed slight fear and bewilderment. In the end, when in the image I in an improvised plague doctor costume stood in the fire and destroyed the sphere, thereby interrupting the recording, the Slytherins looked completely dumbfounded.
"Thank you, Nott, that with your act you hinted... At a lot. Think it is worth informing this wizard."
With an honest and kind smile on my face, I returned the ball to the dumbfounded and pale Nott, turned around and walked away. Almost immediately they pronounced into my back:
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Without turning around, I took out the wand with one movement and turned it into a whip, and, still without turning around, guided only by spatial sensitivity, created Protego Reflecto on the tip of the wand, reflecting the paralyzing spell back. And along with this conjured two more maximally fast Stupefys, knocking the spirit out of the remaining opponents. Just in case.
Leaving the alley, boldly headed back to the castle. In fact, I do not consider it strange or surprising that Nott hurried to show me what was supposed to put me in my place, without even checking exactly what was recorded on the sphere. Having received what was desired, well or what was supposed to act in this role, he hurried to besiege the Mudblood who is so unpleasant to him. And I am glad that he did exactly so, because two conclusions can be made at once. First—Theodore himself did not organize this, because then he would know exactly what was recorded on the ball. Second—the customer is either an intermediary or a relative of Nott. Moreover, both are equally likely. The intermediary could send the recording, since it was made anyway. A relative could send it so that Theodore would watch and draw conclusions. Well, it turned out that I drew conclusions instead of him.
"Sigh..." a sad sigh escaped from my chest by itself while I climbed the slope to the gates of Hogwarts.
Methods of influencing the Notts surfaced in my head in the form of ideas themselves, and the sources of such machinations were shards of an elf and a dwarf, and I myself was inclined to some wild thoughts about how to spoil their life, since they are so "evil". But for all this I need connections, information, need to come to some agreements with other wizards, and the scam will succeed. But first—information. Not general, from fragmentary information in articles from the library, but facts. Where are facts taken? Correct—in the Ministry. Which house is the most "ministerial"? Hufflepuff.
When I reached the Great Hall, a plan of action finally formed in my head that should hit the Notts' well-being like an assassin's dagger from the shadows, spoiling all conceivable and inconceivable plans of their family for the near future. Since we moved to another level of confrontation, on the field of tough games and shadow manipulations, it is a sin not to use some experience.
Waiting until students began to return to the Great Hall for dinner from walks and other activities, I intercepted Cedric.
"Need to talk without witnesses."
"Ok," he nodded seriously. "Can wait, or urgent?"
"Can wait."
"Then after dinner."
"Ok."
Dinner itself passed unnoticed while I worked out various options and nuances of the possible development of events in my thoughts. Need to be ready for everything and any kind of activity. And after dinner Cedric and I, unnoticed by anyone and under the guise of a cheerful discussion of past events, turned into a deserted corridor, and there—into an unused classroom. Cedric immediately began to cast a whole bunch of various privacy charms and other concealing magic, most of which, to my surprise, I already knew anyway. Although, why to "surprise"? Just didn't pay proper attention, being absorbed in the educational process.
"So," Cedric took one of the chairs and, turning the back in front of him, sat down. "Did something happen?"
"I need information," I repeated his actions, sitting on a chair opposite.
"And you turn to me?"
"Well so, and who knows everyone who needs to be known, and who has connections in the Ministry?"
"Indeed," Cedric nodded. "I will listen to you, but you know, I've been thinking about something for a week now..."
"And about what?"
"Hector, there are several orders for various artifacts, but they are not very expensive, quite complex, but there are many of them."
"And you kept silent?" I smiled.
"There... Slippery moment with the fact that I found out about them bypassing father..." Cedric thoughtfully scratched his head. "And the customers themselves... Not the most reliable members of society."
"Criminals?"
"No-no, but... But not law-abiding citizens either. Father has a fad on the admissibility of such contacts, and he easily rushes from one extreme to another. His overprotection and habit of bragging about my every sneeze are annoying, can't argue here, but I am not eager to know the opposite extreme of his attitude towards me."
"Oh, I see. And you have been thinking for days about how to make it so that both orders are taken and hidden from father."
"Yes, and haven't come up with it yet. Just need to know, if I come up with it, will you cope, and will you take it at all?"
"Of course I'll take it, where do such questions come from at all?" I resented feignedly, and smiled.
"So you earned a very decent amount of money from the last order. I thought that in the near future this would not be interesting to you."
"Money may be useful to me very soon, and it's good that I won't have to stay with a minimum in my pockets."
"Then, as soon as I agree, you will get down to business? Because the twins found the last order for you, and they are bad with morality in this matter—business is business."
"Understand," I nodded. "Will take it."
"That's good," Cedric clearly relaxed. "So what kind of information do you need?"
"Dossier on the entire Nott business. With whom connected, promising directions, enterprises, anything, but fully. Who may be interested in close partnership with them one way or another..."
"Stop-stop," Cedric put his hands in front of him. "I understood what you need. Here, I'm afraid, just a favor or service won't do. Need money... Hmm, understand why you need money. In principle, all this can be found out inside the house, through parents or relatives of our guys. They will find out 'in a friendly way', but pocket money won't hurt anyone."
"How much?"
"Don't know yet..." Cedric thought, clearly counting coins. "But the amount is decent. Information, you know, is not public, plus, as I understand, you will need the calculations of Ministry analysts. But hardly more than two hundred Galleons."
"Got it. Not a question," I held out my hand, and Cedric immediately shook it.
"And why, if not a secret?"
"Sorry, but..."
"Nothing, understand. Dark deeds," he smiled at the joke, not even suspecting how close he was to the truth.
"Exactly. Darker than black."
On this wonderful note, our negotiations came to an end. Cedric received the necessary amount on hand and promised to make inquiries today, and within a week I will receive a full dossier. He also asked me to do without stupidities, because such a thing—is not my level. Just in case I decide to do something rash. Of course, I agreed, because I do not intend to do anything rash.
Now it remains only to find out the details about the Notts' business and income to decide what exactly I am going to do. But one thing I know for sure—it will hurt them. But not in the literal sense, of course.
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