"Ah..." a sad sigh escaped the Indian woman's chest. "Richie, I understand... But it's so unfair. Dad said that if my sister and I find good wizard grooms, he won't pick out our future husbands."
Richie was certain that Elizabeth II would absolutely disapprove of an aristocrat of his stature marrying an Indian. He himself wasn't opposed to such a match. Patil was a little girl now, but that was a flaw that would fade with age. Padma promised to grow up to be a beautiful woman, not lacking in intelligence, and likely to come with a substantial dowry in the form of a stake in a serious business. She was, in other words, someone of almost his social circle, and a sorceress to boot, but... an Indian with slightly dark skin... It was scary to imagine the media scandal that would erupt if Richard appeared in public with such a bride. In a future of widespread tolerance, such a thing wouldn't have surprised anyone, but not now.
- Sorry, Padma, I need to go see McGonagall.
"Did something happen?" the Indian woman asked worriedly.
"I need to take a day off in December. By the way, do you know where McGonagall's office is?"
- On the first floor in the DADA tower.
- Thank you, Padma.
On the landing, Richard and Padma's paths parted.
Soon Richie stood in front of the right office. After knocking, he opened the door slightly.
Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk in her spacious office. She looked up from the tabletop, which was littered with parchments.
- Come in.
- Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall.
"Do you need something, Mr. Rich?" the teacher asked dryly.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall. I need to take time off on December 10th to attend a very important event. My father wrote you a letter."
Richard placed the letter on the Deputy Headmistress's desk. McGonagall opened it, adjusted her glasses, and began reading. She looked as if the mere exhalation of air would send a stream of flame shooting out of her mouth, incinerating the letter.
"Mr. Rich, this is unacceptable!" she looked up at Richard. "Students are only allowed to leave Hogwarts during the holidays."
"Ma'am, you must have been misreading," Richard remained outwardly cool and unperturbed, but a wave of anger was rising within him. "I've been nominated for the Nobel Prize! THE NOBEL PRIZE, MA'AM! I'm the youngest person ever to receive this incredibly prestigious award in scientific circles... On December 10th, I'm invited to dinner with the King of Sweden. Such invitations are not to be ignored."
"No, Mr. Rich," McGonagall said flatly. "I cannot let you leave school."
- Ma'am, we can always make an exception. It's a Nobel Prize, after all!
"We don't care about Muggle rewards," McGonagall replied haughtily.
"You, perhaps," Richard's voice laced with malice. "Let's be honest, you'll never see such rewards. But it matters to me. Don't you care about the Duke of Westminster's request? Just one missed day of school doesn't make any difference."
"Don't test my patience," the deputy headmistress said slowly. "Mr. Rich, you will remain in the castle."
There's a limit to everything. Richard's nerves gave way. He spoke clearly and coldly:
"Ma'am, I'm going to complain. I don't care about your rules and principles. When it comes to meeting the king and winning the Nobel Prize, your rules turn into rotten cardboard that's worthless. Do you think I need your school? Hell no!"
"This is disgusting!" Professor McGonagall concluded. "To think that a student would be insolent and threaten a professor! This has never happened before! I thought you were much more reasonable, Mr. Rich. You receive fifty penalty points."
Richard gave the Deputy Headmistress a contemptuous look. His gaze was so intense that McGonagall even shuddered. She felt as if the student was looking at her as if she were a piece of excrement that had suddenly spoken.
"I understand you, Professor," Richard replied coldly.
Despite the rage that flooded Rich from head to toe, he still bowed politely in farewell and raised his cane, after which he left the deputy headmistress's office.
McGonagall dealt a terrible blow to Richard's pride. Worse, she demonstrated her disregard for the Duke's request and fully revealed her contempt for ordinary people. After this, Richard mentally marked McGonagall down, if not as an enemy, then at least as a blacklister. And he also began to suspect... Who said it was a wizard, not a witch, who had to destroy the world? After all, McGonagall is considered a powerful witch...
Richie was determined to get an audience with the King of Sweden by any means necessary. It became a matter of principle.
Richard's first impulse was to call the Minister of Magic. But he didn't rush into things. He only took out the recorder once he'd calmed down and reached his bedroom, which was still empty.
The pleasant voice of the Minister came from the artifact's speaker:
- Richard, I'm glad to hear from you.
- Good afternoon, Millicent. Is it convenient for you to talk?
- Yes. Did you find out anything about Black?
"No, Millicent. No more information than you have. Do you have any recent news about Black?"
"Unfortunately, no," the minister sighed sadly. "But that's okay. Richard, your plan turned out to be excellent. At the very least, it saved my reputation. It's a shame we have to search for the criminal unofficially. But let's forget about Black. That's not why you called me..."
"Millicent, I admire your intelligence and resourcefulness! I have a small problem."
"Oh, Richard, the word 'problem' is such a scary word..." Bagnold responded in a deep voice.
- Nothing serious. In the summer, I received notification from the Nobel Committee that I was one of the candidates for the Nobel Prize.
"Wow!" Bagnold exclaimed, genuinely delighted. "Richard, my sincere congratulations!"