21

Tottenhampton, Hotel George.

The morning of August 24, 1991

*

After visiting Weasley's residence, I used Confundus and rented a hotel room in Tottenhampton. I'll have to spend a few days in this town. In the morning, I woke up full of strength, and very hungry. Hunger is my strange childhood heritage. I'm always ready to eat. I could have breakfast at the hotel, but I have to spend most of the day at Morrison's supermarket. And I went there intending to eat breakfast. To eat, I had to take off my muggle repellent amulet and hide my sword in my backpack behind my back. I went to the store, bought take-out food and a folding chair. In the street, I put on a Muggle repellent amulet, returned the sword to its place, crossed the parking lot and made myself comfortable under the trees. I had to wait for a long time.

Without mentioning the details, my aim was achieved. I had lunch at the supermarket, and then I rented out a hotel room and left Tottenhampton.

*

The living room of the Black House.

*

"Kreacher! Bring me the papers!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

So, what do we have in the papers? Rufus Scrimger has initiated an increase in the number of Aurors in response to increased werewolf attacks. Yes, werewolves are a painful subject for both wizards and werewolves themselves. Scrimger's move is the move of a bearded spider. Why would he do that? The proposal to increase the number of Aurors will be rejected. The Ministry has no extra money. Which means that's what Dumbledore needs. But for what? He wants to divert public attention to a tried and tested scarecrow? Maybe. Or maybe I see a beard with bells under every bush. On the other hand, being paranoid doesn't mean you're not being hunted.

I need a source of information from Dumbledore's entourage. Snape and Alastor are out of my league. Killing them is a problem, let alone taking them down. McGonagall is useless. Dumbledore doesn't devote her to his business. She works very hard at Hogwarts, she teaches children. She's a disgusting Head of the Gryffindor House. An old, miserable victim of Dumbledore's intrigue. He has plans for her. The papers must have treated her brain appropriately. Now it's only years of admiration for the Master that keeps her from becoming mine. Everything in the papers is based on truth and verifiable. Sooner or later, she will be tempted to check a few facts. There's only one subject available for work. That's Fletcher. I'm aware of his weakness, so there's a plan for the operation.

"Kreacher! In an hour, you'll go to Gringotts, grab the envelope for Master Shnagrog you'll find on this table. Is the mission clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Hand the envelope to Master Shnagrog in person, and wait for the answer."

Now, since it's a case... I don't want to feel like a fool again because I didn't ask Kreacher at the right time.

"Kreacher, how do I deny access to the house to everyone but me?"

"Kreacher will bring a description of the ritual, sir."

My head's not all right! I need to learn more from an elf. But I learn from my mistakes. Except I'm becoming more and more dependent on Kreacher. The main thing is not to become completely helpless without him. I got the writing instruments, and I started the Shnagrog letter.

*

Dear Master Shnagrog,

I need the following services. Please specify a date when the order can be fulfilled.

The first one. I need two simple single-use portkeys, with an arrival point at Preston, which is on the A353 highway. One of these keys must additionally act as an amulet to allow the Muggle to ignore the Muggle-repellent spell.

The second one. I need an amulet to change my appearance. I want to look like a man in his 50s, beaten with life, starting to gray.

I want the highest quality amulet I can afford for the galleons left in my safe.

My elf will be waiting for an answer with the date of the order.

Thank you in advance!

Heir to the Black family.

*

I have a busy night tonight. I have to go to bed early, right after evening practice. The kendo visit will have to stop temporarily until the active phase of operations is over. Ha-ha! From September 1st, the kids will go to school, and I'll go to kendo. So be it.

After practice, I called Kreacher and got a response from Shnagrog. The amulet will be ready on August 26th, in the afternoon. It's acceptable.

*

Brixton, Johnny's former dot.

August 25, 1991, 3 a.m.

*

It was quiet outside. Only one gangster was sitting in the car waiting for someone. I knocked my revolver on the glass, and then it went down.

"Where's the gun?"

"In the trunk. Two bags and a box."

"Open the trunk," I went around the car. "Kreacher! These bags and a box, take turns carrying them to the dojo. Put them within three yards of each other. Is the product quality good? Answer me!"

"Excellent. Freddie gives great merchandise."

"Well done. Obliviate! Close the trunk and go home. You just wanted some fresh night air."

I walked away from the car. The bandit closed the trunk, got in the car and drove down the street. Before he could drive thirty yards away, he was hit starboard by a truck at the intersection. Then events developed even more sharply. On the opposite side of the intersection, a cargo van came up. The doors swung open and three types of crime looks were released.

I watched the situation develop. It was surprisingly fast and cleverly done. I felt burning envy. This is the strength of the organization. Here it is a well-organized team.

Meanwhile, the types jumped to the driver's door. One broke the glass with a bat, pushed a bandit in her jaw and opened the door. Two with professional skill grabbed the body and dumped it in the van. The first one covered the exit.

That's an interesting development. You can get out of this on the local gangster leader. Why not?

"Kreacher! Watch out for that van. When it stops and the prisoner's out of it, discreetly move me there. Do it!"

"Sir, yes, Sir."

In a quarter of an hour, Kreacher took me to a garage with several cars. The bandits are on the move. On the other side of the garage, guys were dragging a prisoner to the door. I hurried to get them. The sharpest type who broke the glass and the driver separated and went into the side passage. But a well-coordinated two dragged the prisoner into the basement. I went to get the sharp one and the driver. Well done, I'm sure they're going to the chief for a report. A little further the driver turned in the side aisle, and I chose the Sharp one. Our journey ended in the break room. In the room with sofas on both sides, a table full of porn magazines, TV, sat a short cut "businessman" in a nice suit. After the greeting, a sharp report began.

"We picked up Freddy a quarter of an hour ago. The lousy guy left the house with the guns. Then he stood on Spencer Road for ten minutes. He got out of the car, opened the trunk, and closed the trunk. Then he wanted to leave, and then we took him in. But the weapon was gone, and he left the house with the guns. The guns were gone."

"Businessman" in a perfectly calm voice, as if it didn't bother him at all, reprimanded a sharp one:

"You've become old and useless, Alex. You can't do a simple job. Couldn't you follow him properly? Go to Fred and beat the confession out of him. Why did it occur to him to arm himself, where did he put the guns? In half an hour, I'll be down in the basement, and I want you to answer me. Get out of here."

The businessman was left alone. This is my chance.

"Imperius! Do you have cash, jewels, gold here? Answer me."

"There's a safe in the office with an expense amount."

"How much is there?"

"About 50,000."

"Go in there and open the safe."

A businessman walked into the office part of the garage. In the "boss's office," he opened the safe. Because of the muggle repellent amulet, he still couldn't see me. I took the other bag out of my backpack and threw it at the businessman.

"Get everything out of the safe in that bag."

The job didn't take long. But I was excited about the new trophies.

"Obliviate! You stole the money from the safe yourself and spent it on gambling. If you're smart enough, you can make up for the shortfall. Now go and beat the truth out of Fred."

I activated portkey and went to Grimmauld Place with the trophy. It was a busy night, but it was a productive night!

It wasn't just the Hero of Magic Britain that had a rich night.

Rita Skeeter woke up from the charmer signal on the door. There was nothing of value in the house. But Rita's life had been attempted many times by grateful readers, so the situation was familiar, though unpleasant. Apparate didn't work, portkey didn't work. This is a serious situation. The trap on the ground floor detained the intruders for no more than a quarter of a minute. Rita liked the situation less and less. She opened a window and left the house in her animagus form. So much trouble because of such a trivial thing as an article with the truth from Potter! It's an excuse to ask for financial help. This thought has made Rita comfortable with the inconvenience.