18
London, Zoo, August 16, 1991.
*
There aren't many people at the zoo on Friday morning.
"Kreacher, keep following me invisibly. I have a business to do here."
I took my time examining the animals and even bought ice cream. I have the right, I'm eleven years old. Here come the monkeys. This monkey's perfect for the job. That one, too.
"Kreacher, see those two monkeys over there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Put those monkeys to sleep, freeze them and take them to the mansion's food warehouse."
"Sir, Kreacher can't cook monkeys."
"It's okay, Kreacher. If you knew what I could make from monkeys. But that's okay, in time I'll show you," I got the ace of spades. "Kreacher, we're leaving."
*
Living room, evening.
*
Where in this marasmatic state can I get a weapon? Normal, combat, and not a revolver. Robbing shooting galleries? So I need grenades and mines and a lot more useful things. Fly to America? Except you can't get anything back on the plane. Searching the continent? That's probably the best thing. I have transport to the continent, and the French police are not enthusiastic. They rejoice in life. But there's something wrong with our United Kingdom. There's a crisis. A crisis of common sense, both in magicians and humans. It's time I learned to speak French. On the other hand, for a "why not?" guy, a trip to France is both a goal and a reward. There's a Kreacher with a package in the living room.
"Mail, sir!"
On my orders, he checks the P.O. Box twice a day in the post office on Diagon Alley.
Last time, Andromeda responded to the heir to the Black family. She doesn't know exactly who he is. It could have been Draco. But today she wrote to Harry Evans, a little weak boy. Everyone wants to hurt me, including perhaps Aunt Andromeda. You can't ignore safety. I had a set in one of my lockers just in case I was reading a letter. A set from my favorite building store. I opened the window to create traction, put on kevlar gloves, a respirator and glasses. Then I sat down on the window sill to read the letter.
*
Dear heir to Black,
I have to turn down your offer. In our seemingly peaceful time, I want to keep what I already have.
I wish you success in your work. I'm sure you will achieve your aims and take the Black family to the top of the magical society, where he should be right to be.
Sincerely, your Andromeda Tonks.
*
It's a failure. I lighted up myself and the mansion in front of Andromeda. I only received a verbal agreement to keep things secret in return. Not an absolute vow, not even a promise. On the other hand, it was me who invited her "to a meeting", so it was useless to demand anything from her. Yeah, and who's going to make an absolute vow to a preschooler?
Yeah, until I'm a lord, I can't even block the entrance to the house for the rest of the family. Narcissa, Andromeda, Bella. Three Black sisters are dangerous snakes. Is Draco on the list? Maybe he is. The fireplace in the house is locked, but they can also enter through the door. And they can bring anyone with them. I was 100 percent sure my aunt would agree. What scared her? Is she Dumbledore's agent? Her husband, maybe? In line with corporate ethics, I have to kill her carefully. Just in case. But she's my relative, even if she's distant. Yeah, I can't make the Dark Lord out of me with my misses. You can't fix a miss like that on the move.
What shall I do? The defense of the house is strong, but the illuminated house is a trap. I need a machine gun!
I need to calm down, and calm down is the best thing I can do in a dojo.
*
Dojo
*
Confundus! Incendio! Aquamenti! Confundus! Diffindo! Confundus!
Confundus remains my main spell. Diffindo barely scratches the dummies, and Incendio doesn't even leave a burn on them. Well, that's all right, I'm a preschooler. I have everything in front of me!
The dojo calmed me down, I was able to think about safety on my own.
The first thing to do is to ensure evacuation.
"Kreacher! Are there Broomsticks in the mansion? Bring the best one!"
"Yes, sir!" "Clap" "Here you go, sir!"
The first flight lesson is very detailed in the canon, so there were no incredible problems. Except I didn't have Potter's incredible skills. I have a world for extreme! I guess it's just that I'm a bastard, and the genealogical ability to fly a broom hasn't passed on to me yet. But if you think about it seriously, it's a completely crazy family skill! I'm a great magician, I'm the best Broomstick man ever! This is crazy. Different from the canon? Maybe Dumbledore is a good grandfather who cares about Magic Britain. That's why he destroys education. He can't take care of it any other way, poor thing.
Aquamenti! Confundus! Confundus! Diffindo! Confundus!
*
London-Grantham Train Coupe. Around 3 a.m., August 17, 1991.
Staying in the mansion was morally difficult, so I decided to take a train through the expanses of the United Kingdom. Like a Sir. I'm a "why not?" guy. For that purpose, I bought out the entire compartment. I had to act solely on my truly magical ability to negotiate because sending Confundus to the cashier behind the glass was impossible. Don't I live too chic? I shoot the whole compartment at once, do wild shopping? The money of the dead Dursley, by the way, is almost gone. Ha! I'm practically their heir, only Auntie Marge has to stumble on a bulldog. But there's no point in killing her. She didn't mention the bastard in her testament. Punish her with a domestic gas explosion? Yeah, a household gas explosion is always good, can decorate any event. It's 3 a.m. It's time for the little kids to go to bed!
*
Early in the morning, I woke up in a great mood. Right at the station, I took a taxi and went to Little Hangleton, to the cemetery. I didn't go to Grantham for a whim.
In this reality, Little Hangleton is right next to him. I sat in the first cab, and that haste let me down again. The cabbie was too curious and talkative.
"Why are you in a cemetery, boy?"
"I need to get to the grave of a distant relative of mine, sir."
"Why are you doing this alone?"
"Because my parents can't see me off today, sir."
"Why not?"
"With all due respect, sir, this is an internal matter of my family."
"Little children shouldn't travel alone, boy!"
Oh, he's sick of it! Show active citizenship when appropriate. I didn't say anything. Why talk to an idiot.
"Why do you need katana?"
Before I got in the cab, I had to take off a muggle repellent amulet. But it never occurred to me to hide the sword. I'm not breaking up with him. The cab driver can't shut up on his own, and then we'll shut him up.
"Getting ready for the school play, entering the role. Sir, nobody told you that it's nasty and indecent for a man your age to take an interest in little boys. Tell me straight, are you a pedophile?"
The cab driver was trying to digest my words for a while.
"I'm just worried about you."
"I already know a bearded man who's just worried about me. He's very interested in little boys, too. Caring grandfather.
One day I'll kill him. Can you just drive me away and mind my business?"
"Boy, I've got to take you to the constable."
I silently pulled out a wand and pointed it at the taxi driver's head. The taxi driver clearly understood what the wand meant. He hit the brakes abruptly, and I was smeared on the front seat. He regained consciousness much faster and pulled the wand out of my hand.
"I am so sick of you fucking wizards! Even if a squib goes into the human world, and here you find me to fuck with. And you don't even think you can violate my rights, motherfuckers. Take that, you little bitch."
And with these words he broke my wand of ash and the femur of a virgin who died a painful death.
"And what are you going to do now, you little shit? Now you're as useless as any wizard without a wand!"
When the wand crunched, I felt the poor virgin victim died as soon as Dumbledore wished. And it wasn't the girl's fault. And now the last thing left of her in the world has been destroyed. I felt Hatred! First the bastard pushes himself out of his way, and then he spoils the last memory of some man.
Worm, you chose your destiny! No one forced you to hit on the boy. You've deprived me of the opportunity to settle the matter in peace. The backpack was on my lap. With my left hand I "held" it by the pocket with the revolver in it. I pulled my hand with the revolver on me to release it from my pocket. And then I shot the cab driver three times.
"Kreacher! Quickly grab the victim's body and carry it to the altar! He's dying for nothing!"
I never understood the expression of the elf's physiognomy. There was a storm of emotion on his face. The victim will die without benefit to the Black family! There's a new victim on the altar! Muggle! Ugh! But there's not much use for Muggles either.
He disappeared in a flash and showed up nearby as quickly as he did. I grabbed his paw and ended up in a ritual hall. The taxi driver didn't feel much anymore. But he was alive! It was a wonderful start to the day.
The heart of the Muggle broke out in a black flame. I felt strange. The magic of the family made me feel like the back of my head! My hair moved on top of my head. I don't have time!
"Kreacher! Take me back to where you got the muggle. That's where the trophies are left."
I need the money. I don't need a car. When I was done with the car, I walked on the road.
*
Three hours later, I found the Graves of Tom Riddle and Thomas Riddle. I searched in the richest section of the cemetery. And I found them.
"Kreacher! Dig up the remains from these two graves and put the monkeys from the zoo in their place. Our enemy will be unpleasantly surprised when he finds out what a retarded animal his daddy Muggle was. If possible, make sure the graves do not look disturbed. Put the remains of the graves in the cemetery of the victims, by the French hunting lodge. I could use some of the bodies of such an enemy. When you've finished your work, report to me. Do it."
"Yes, sir!"
I got a new wand. And honestly and loudly said an important message.
"By the right of power, I took possession of these monkeys. In the face of the Kreacher witness, I give these monkeys to Tom Riddle. Now the flesh and blood of these monkeys belong to Tom Riddle!"
Every fool does that! That's in case anyone guesses to say, "Accio Tom Riddle's bone."
Kreacher, without wasting time, moved the gravestones. I took up the ace of spades.
*
Grimmauld Place 12, library.
*
We could get the Peverell ring. But I don't know anything about hacking into a defense. Either I'd kill myself or I'd lose Kreacher. So the Peverell ring will get me Dumbledore. As Ragnok said, anything can benefit society by being applied in the right way.
Since I still have to be in France today, why not grab an altar and install it. I have not found a description of the ritual of tying the altar to the source of power. And the Elf didn't know him. All it says is to call magic "in a free form", that's all.
There was an elf next to me.
"Kreacher carried out the Lord's orders!"
"Well done! Bring me some meat from the kitchen. Don't look at me like a savage! I'll eat in the next room."
When the elf brought me a big flat plate with pieces of fried meat... I realized I could eat meat on the move. I took the plate.
"Kreacher, show me where the altarpiece is. We're going to France today. Do you like France?"
"Yes, sir! There are great sacrifices!"
"You're a specialist in sacrifices! Yes! That's right! Did you feel the difference between a Muggle victim and a werewolf victim?"
"Yes, sir. A werewolf is a good victim. A Muggle is a bad victim."
"Stretch out your hand! Imagine that. That the length of your paw is the size of a werewolf victim. Now show me the magnitude of the Muggle victim!"
The elf made a funny face, but he got something from the sentence. That elf never ceased to amaze me. He was kind of special! For example, he quickly studied the cookbook. But he immediately said he had a recipe for roast meat with a Greek recipe. And other ways wouldn't immediately satisfy me. And he made me happy with a great dish.
I saw an elf stretch out his paw and showed half a little finger.
"I'm not very happy about such a tiny result either. But every day at the Muggle, in a month, we'll make a good addition to the family's strength."
I laughed.
"Don't worry. I was joking. Killing a Muggle is not worthy of our family. We have strong enemies. I don't have time for Muggles."
I sat and ate. My appetite didn't spoil the murmur of that little Mugglephil. "Muggles are insignificant. Muggles are filthy. The fire of the altar will clear the Muggles. Many Muggles are almost one werewolf. Muggles are weak. Squibs are stronger! It was a squib. The squibs are dirty. The altar of the family will clear the squibs."
I ate and giggled. It's nice that my elf is clean and respects purity.