July 10th was marked by a joyful event for Richard: Millicent Bagnold was elected to the post of Minister of Magic.
When people hear the word "elected," they picture a typical democratic election, complete with ballot boxes, a committee for counting votes, and observers. British wizarding elections are similar, turning into a kind of celebration. Only in emergency situations is a minister appointed by a vote of the heads of departments at the Ministry of Magic. In normal times, wizards dress up in their finest robes and gowns, take their children with them, and head to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade to cast their vote for one of the candidates. And, as in all such events, the winner isn't the one with the most votes, but the one who hustled the most.
Madam Bagnold had a free hand. With such enormous funding by wizarding standards, she couldn't lose. Most of the members of the election committee had been bought and sold. The new-old Minister of Magic won a record eighty-three percent of the 137 percent vote.
"How so?!" the average person would ask indignantly. "After all, the maximum could only be one hundred percent of the vote!" But who would bother with such nonsense as conveying all the information to voters? Certainly not the bribed members of the wizarding election commission. So, the British wizards at the Daily Prophet knew only that Bagnold had received eighty-three percent of the vote and was once again Minister of Magic.
For this purpose, Richie even dropped everything and, accompanied by his new bodyguard, Nymphadora Tonks, went to the Ministry of Magic to personally congratulate his protégé.
Nymphadora, still unaccustomed to her new job and the status of a ward whose safety she was responsible for, was shocked by how casually the brat (that's how she mentally called Richard) interacted with important people and ordinary adults alike. Slightly condescending and patronizing with his subordinates, yet on equal terms with wealthy and influential wizards.
The young witch found it strange to see adults accepting this as normal. They were speaking to a twelve-year-old boy as an equal adult. Nymphadora subconsciously felt it was right; otherwise, speaking to a rich and influential wizard would be foolish, but deep down she rebelled and envied. She was eighteen, held an important position-guarding an entire count, and earned a huge salary-twice that of the Chief Auror. Yet her parents and those around her treated her like a child.
Envy... Yes, Nymphadora envied Richard, but not in an evil way, but in a good way. The boy became something of an idol for her, like a rock star for a rock fan or a famous bodybuilder for an amateur athlete. She wanted to be like him, to be listened to and considered as an equal.
"Madame Bagnold, you look stunning as always," Richie said. "Your dress is gorgeous, and the emerald color suits you very well. My sincere congratulations."
"Oh, Richard, why so formal?" Bagnold smiled charmingly. "You can call me by my first name. Thank you."
"Very well, Millicent," Richard smiled back. "You are as deserving of this position as anyone."
"Richard, I hear you have grand plans?" said the new Minister of Magic.
"That's true," Richard replied. "I'm currently expanding the Rich Workshop, planning to employ up to ten percent of British wizards and recruiting foreign wizards. I plan to soon launch a wizard-made spacecraft into space to colonize Earth-like planets. Otherwise, it's like we're living in the Middle Ages. Muggles have been flying into space for forty years now, and they've even been to the Moon."
"Wow!" Bagnold exclaimed with genuine admiration. "Colonizing distant planets... Truly grandiose. I remember a few decades ago, a French witch flew to the moon on a specially enchanted broom. And one of the Weasleys, I think it was Billius, Arthur's brother, traveled to the moon through a portal. The only good thing was that they brought back a lot of moonstones. Otherwise, wizards weren't interested in space, so they weren't particularly interested in conquering it. But if there's a chance to colonize planets similar to Earth, that's a different matter! Richard, you can be sure the Ministry of Magic will support you. Such a project would have a positive impact on the reputation of all British wizards.
"That's wonderful," Rich replied. "Millicent, I need the contacts of the French witch and Billius Weasley. I want to involve them in the space program."
"Richard, you'd better contact Arthur Weasley about Billius," the new Minister replied. "And I'll help you with the Frenchwoman."
"Thank you," Richard said. "Millicent, when do you take up your post as Minister?"
"It will take a week for the acting minister to hand over full powers," Bagnold said. "So not before July seventeenth. Richard, who is that beautiful lady with you?" She turned her gaze to the silent Nymphadora.
"Miss Tonks," Richie introduced. "Bodyguard. Formerly trained as an Auror."
"Oh, Richard," Madame Bagnold said in a deep, erotic voice, with a mixture of irony and reproach, "how quick you are... You poach ministerial personnel."
"That's life," Rich replied calmly. "By the way, what do you think of hiring Department of Magical Law Enforcement officers to guard Rich's Workshop? Something like a private security detail."
"Richard, I don't mind," a sly smile snaked across the red-haired witch's face. "Come see me around the seventeenth or eighteenth-we'll discuss all the details. We might not even have to hire anyone. We could consider creating a special unit to guard important magical facilities. And your workshop will become one of them, along with Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic, and St. Mungo's."
"Okay," Richie nodded in agreement. He glanced at the crowd of wizards eager to catch the new minister's attention. "Excuse me, I see you're popular today. I won't waste your precious time. Goodbye, Millicent."
"I'll be glad to see you again," Bagnold replied. "Goodbye."
Richard, accompanied by Nymphadora, left the Ministry of Magic.
Tonks was shocked. Before her eyes, a twelve-year-old boy had just negotiated with the Minister of Magic to create a new division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"This is nonsense!" thought Nymphadora. "How is this possible, especially after just a few words?!"
- Tonks!
Richard's voice brought the bodyguard out of her thoughts.
"Yes, sir?" she said.
"We're going to Portkey to London now and visit Granny," Richard continued. "Try to control your metamorphmagic and keep your hands away from your wand. Better yet, hide it altogether."
"What's wrong?" Nymphadora asked with mild surprise. "Your grandmother doesn't like wizards?"
"I haven't asked about that, but it's better not to upset her security," Richard replied.
Nymphadora was perplexed and wondered, "Who's that granny?" This continued until she climbed into the Bentley with her employer. Richard turned to the driver:
- Steve, let's go to grandma's.
"To Windsor Castle, sir?" Stephen asked.
- Yes.
It began to dawn on Nymphadora that her employer's grandmother wasn't so simple. She asked again:
- Windsor Castle? Isn't that where the Queen lives?
"There," Richard agreed. "We're going to see her..."
Nymphadora was so stunned that her jaw nearly hit the car floor. It suddenly dawned on her who Richard had called "Granny." She drove silently the entire way, trying to digest the news. A thought flashed through her mind:
"First a meeting with the Minister of Magic, then with the Queen... What next? A trip for tea with the suddenly revived Merlin?"
Tonks hoped until the very end that it was a joke. But when Richard secluded himself in the study with the Queen, and she was forced to remain outside with Her Majesty's guards, all doubts were swept away like a good broom.
Richie didn't leave the Queen's until a couple of hours later. He looked like he was about to be buried. He was haggard and pale, his shoulders hunched, his feet shuffling tiredly. Nymphadora was quite surprised by Richard's appearance. She positioned herself slightly behind the boy and followed him.
"Sir, are you all right?" she asked, unable to contain herself.
"Alive and well, but terribly tired," Richard muttered quietly in response. "Tonks, some advice for the future: never bargain with royalty if you want to keep your nerves in check... By the way, what do you know about the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic?"
"Well, I know," Nymphadora began to answer, "that it's located on the minus tenth level of the Ministry and that they conduct secret research and development there. What exactly they do, no one knows. The employees of this department are called Unspeakables. And rumor has it that they don't even report to the Minister of Magic."
"Uh-huh," Richard nodded slightly. "That's right. Because the Unspeakables report directly to Her Majesty. The Minister of Magic and a handful of wizards know this. So no one should learn this information from you."
"Sir, do you trust me that much?" Nymphadora stumbled as she walked.