14

Grimmauld Place 12, fourth floor, bedroom. The morning of August 7, 1991.

*

In the house of the oldest and noblest family Black Good beds! The most perfect beds for tactical planning. It's almost two weeks until August 20. During this time I'll be able to resolve some important issues and prepare morally for correspondence with Hermione. Hermione! The only brightest part of my life in this world.

"Kreacher!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Tell me about protecting the house."

I want to strengthen the protection of the home of the Most Ancient and Noble Black so that Dumbledore's and their fellow blood traitors can't get in here. This bearded spider has already mentally set up a brothel here. Unfortunately, he's already managed to capture a lot of money and valuables from the Black and Potter families. You can't call him a thief. He wins, he takes the trophies. I know what he's going through. The old man came up out of the mud. A great example, disgusting mentor. I'm out of my way with him.

"The defense of the house feeds on the altar stone in the ceremonial hall on the fourth level of the dungeon. You can strengthen the defense by sprinkling the blood of the head of the family on the altar or perform a simple ritual with the victim, sir. But you are not yet the head of the family, and the magic of the family may not accept your blood and sacrifice from you, sir."

"Take me there. I am the last hope of the Black family, and I will not fail."

It's a good thing I learned Lumos. There's more to learn, or I've given up magic learning. I'll study with the sword in the morning, I'll develop my magic in the evening. In the most ritual hall, you could see everything, even if it was dark. The magic illuminates the room. Kreacher gave me a ritual knife pulled out of the air, but I turned my head negative. I pushed my sword out of the sheath into three palms and gently ran it through the blade with the palm of my left hand. There was a notch at the top of the stone altar in the shape of a plate, visually two or three pints. The edges of the "plate" were "cut" by five grooves, which were branched into a complex pattern of curls and leaves on the excavation and all over the stone surface. I started scrubbing blood on the altar. I had thoughts in my head about the stupidity of the idea. I can't fill this altar, not even at the cost of my death. I'm a small, skinny and malnourished Harry. I could hardly squeeze myself out of a coffee cup of blood, I squeezed my fist and walked away. I need a sacrifice! I'm too young to fill the altar. I guess I said it out loud because when I turned around, Kreacher was looking at me with tears in his eyes.

"Sir! Master! The house had been standing for six years without a feed of magic! Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Meanwhile, the edges of the wound have already grabbed. The magic of the family helped.

"How full is the home defense?"

"Alas, sir, not enough. The defensive spell is strong, requires a lot of magic, and you have not yet entered into force. You are right, sir, it takes sacrifice, and not one."

"How many?"

"Five or eight, depending on their life force."

"I'll take care of it. Bring the Genus Code to the coffee table in the living room on the second floor."

"Sir, yes, Sir!"

*

Living room

*

The Genus Code contained only a few rules, but their streamlined formulations could be interpreted in many ways. One has to be very careful to live by the Code.

"Strengthen the power of the Family." It can be understood as a veiled instruction to have no Muggle children. Or as a wish to gather vassals under your arm. Or as a need to accumulate knowledge that can give strength.

"Don't increase the number of enemies of the Family." It's forgotten to write "but reduce the number of enemies." Or "do not increase the number of living enemies," that is, the sentence to put all enemies in the inanimate category.

"Live by honor." You can interpret that any way you want.

Then came the description of family secrets and spells and ancient rituals. Sometimes the description was with a short historical reference to how an outstanding ancestor applied the skill in the right place at the right time. It's too early and almost useless for me to get acquainted with spells. But most rituals don't require outstanding magical power. Blood rituals are generally available to Muggles, but in the right place at the right time. It's time for me to get a separate notebook, where I'll write out the useful rituals available to me. I found a simple ritual for "night vision" I only needed to draw on my face, chest, and forearms. It's a pity the clothes could erase the drawing, so with this "battle coloring" only pants should have been worn. To read the code is not a task for me for one month, but to realize it and complete the case for life. I wrote the ritual of night vision in my notebook. Modern official magic does not use rituals. But the pure families don't care about the Ministry's idiotic demands. Eh, Hermione would have come here, she would have studied the book quickly. I'll have this class until the end of autumn. First I need to see if I can benefit from the ritual or if I'm incapable of it. With my notebook, I went to the bathroom on the same floor, to the mirror.

I had long painted strange patterns on my body with my blood.

"Nox!"And the field of vision stretched out, the paints disappeared from my sight. The "mustache" is painted on my cheeks, Neko ears are drawn on my forehead, "claws" are drawn on my forearms and an unidentifiable pattern on my chest. The cat's eyesight! This ritual must be taught to Hermione at sixteen! I always wanted to see Hermione's topless Neko. Strange and stupid dreams can become reality.

Experimentally proven that rituals work. I have a whole Code of the Black family, full of all kinds of rituals, well-known and unique. Let's do it!

*

The dining room. It's lunchtime.

*

Kreacher's a good cook, except I don't like the list of dishes. I'll buy him a cookbook, and then we can invite guests as well. And it was hard to work with the Code. The language of expression was old and I could hardly read. I was lucky with the first ritual. There was a picture on the page and a few sentences. I hardly made any further progress. I need to look through the dictionaries and reference books in the library and then move on to the Code. Reading an old book was a difficult thing to do. I need rituals that give acceleration or reinforcement in battle, dexterity, and luck. My next action is scheduled for September 1. By that time I have to prepare.

Becoming the true Black is unstoppable! Black's training hall, strengthening home defense and then joining the Genus Code. Time to get to know the noble ancestors. I've already met the noble but crazy Walburga. Phineas Nigellus Black, under his existence, a portrait in Dumbledore's office can be a spy. But if anyone can be a Dumbledore spy, he is a Dumbledore spy. That bedroom on the third floor where that portrait was hanging, I haven't gone in yet. Can he move through the rest of the portraits at home? We don't know. Could it be in fanfics? So I'm going to go where Black's secrets started, to the gym. Time to meet Corvinus Black, custodian of the dojo.

*

The dojo is in the basement of Black's house.

*

Behind the door, which Kreacher first showed me, was a small square room in Black's signature style. The room was pleasing to me because of its dark beauty of simple stone walls. Lumos! There were sofas along the walls as if it were not a small ritual hall, but a lounge in a workshop. There's even a coffee table. A smaller version of the altar is located in the center of the room. There are seven channels on it, and the pattern of channels on the stone is stranger. It's some kind of an inanimate pattern. There are no smooth curls, leaves, only geometric figures on the pattern, but each of them causes a feeling of incorrectness. The depth is smaller and I can even fill it one day, of course, not after this morning. The left palm strokes the bare blade of the sword. I gave very little blood, only to cover the bottom of the bowl at the altar. A blue ghost silhouette with a sword on his knees appeared on the sofa far from the entrance. A dark brown cloak was put over his shoulders on top of a red robe. Sharp boots. Simple face, hair similar to mine, but not so naughty. Only the eyes look closely and through the interlocutor.

"Greetings, Master Corvinus Black. My name is Harry Evans, heir to the Black family. I am Dorea Black's great-grandson."

"There's no reason for you to be here alone, is there?"

"That's right. The heir to Sirius is murdered. Regulus is branded as a slave and dead. Bellatrix is branded and in prison. Narcissa married a branded man. The fate of the Most Ancient and Noble Black is on my shoulders."

"So put on the ring of the head of the family. What are you waiting for?"

"The Goblins recommended I wear the ring at seventeen when I'm strong enough. Until I was eleven, I lived among Muggles. They beat me up, held me by a slave and did not feed me properly. It made me magically weak and I can't wear the ring now."

Corvinus was silent. It's not every day for fifteen centuries that they tell you that the lineage is almost extinct, and the only hope of the lineage is a magically weak bastard. It's a good thing both parents are wizards. He put his head in his arms.

"You are not worthy of being an heir to the Black family."

"Corvinus, get your head out of your ass. This is the Black family not worthy of the Black family. It's the Black family that guessed with four healthy children to let them all fall into two sects at once. And I defeated the Dark Lord at the year and a half. And now I'm at war with both of them. I recently destroyed a sect possessed by the spirit of the Dark Lord with my Goblin hands. Of course, where am I going with the previous heir, this great-aged idiot joker? All he did in his life was hit on schoolchildren with stupid jokes. And then he went to jail, framed like an idiot devoted to his cult owner. Where do I go with Bella and Regulus? The first one kissed Muggle's son's boots, getting only Crucio in return. The second committed suicide when he realized what an unreal bastard he'd become a slave.

Listen to me carefully, you scum. Once again, you think about calling me unworthy, and I will perform the exorcism ritual. Either work for the good of the family or shut up and bury yourself within the walls of Black's house. The family has almost worn out thanks to sick fanatics of purity. And for you, the last heir is not worthy enough? Work with me for the good of the bloodline, or fall out of my sight. Will you work with me?"

The ghost heard the familiar words "dirty, Muggle" and another clucking. But why are they all such bastards and degenerates? I understood the problem of the Black family well. It was a numerous and powerful family. The Black people climbed very high, but then they ran into an obstacle. There wasn't enough space for them in one country! For me, the mystery is why it was so hard to promote influence in magical Europe. But it's a fact! The British magicians had a very unhealthy genetic policy. Perhaps magic saves its children from the consequences of close marriage. But these purebreds have garbage in their heads. I want a full-blooded bride from Europe. An injection of Hermione's blood could save this creepy swamp.

"You have decided your fate. You betrayed the Black family in a difficult hour."

I want to convert the gym to the right style. Is that where I plant the bamboo? Well, the bamboo will grow worse in the basement. I wonder if there's magic bamboo. I want magic bamboo and sakura. And I want a tea table for myself and tatami bedding. Okay. I have a room, and that's good. And the weather is good today. After a bad conversation, I have to go to London. I want to sit in a simple park. And then the good Muggles will share the money with the orphan. An orphan can't even understand a ghost! Good Muggles, help me! I like to wander around a shop that asks for many things: "Buy me! Buy me!"

I urgently need Polyjuice Potion and a visit to a whorehouse.