23
Godric's Hollow, Batilda Bagshot's house.
Albus Dumbledore was gloomy. He was taking steps in the room, exactly what was left of it. There was a summer breeze blowing through the broken windows. The room smelled of shit and blood. The remains of the sofa were smoldering against the wall. By the fireplace, it was like a piece of meat lying on the body of Moody, one of Dumbledore's two queens. There was a broken Batilda doll lying in the door. At least he didn't feel sorry for her, silly fool. Moody had an undisputed authority in the Aurorat and was itself a formidable machine of death. Of course, he could take another pawn into the queen, but it takes time. Young Potter doesn't waste time. And his Occlumency shield is irresistible at all. It's as if the Headmaster smashed his head against a stone wall. The little scoundrel, if to remember his behavior, was holding himself in a cold rage that almost interrupted his aura of the light wizard.
What happened to the child? Everything was going according to plan. Suddenly, it was like he had a whole team of mentors. There's no other way to explain this twist in behavior. The newspapers are pouring shit on the Greatest Bright Wizard of Modernity. At the same time, there are irrefutable facts that no one knows about in principle. Finally, a simple and reliable trap did not work.
It was as if he was going to catch fish with a net on the lake. But eventually he caught a 20-foot long white shark that broke the net and sank the boat. It ate Moody, and it was only by a miracle that he survived. If it hadn't been for the phoenix with his tears, there'd be three bodies lying around the house now. And no one would believe that the country's strongest wizards, Dumbledore and Moody, were attacked by an 11-year-old boy and cynically defeated both. And if they do, then it'll only get worse. The mentors are portraits of old Black family members! Bloody dark wizards. The boy has become an enemy. The boy is not mistaken, he has become the enemy.
Dumbledore smiled through the tears of pain and anger. Don't underestimate the good old ways. It's time to get the tried and tested scarecrow out of the closet. The Headmaster went out in the backyard. Despite the healing from
Fawkes, after trying to apply Legilimency to Potter, hammers were beating in the head. Dumbledore's hands were shaking like a drunkard with a track record.
"Insendio! Morsmordre! Fawkes!" The phoenix that appeared in the fire flashlight took Dumbledore away. Apparating in this state would mean finishing what Potter started.
*
Grimmo 12
*
Kreacher was in a state of clinical shock trying to clean up the house. In the eyes of the new owner, Kreacher saw an ocean of flames that seemed to burn down all life. You could trace the Lord's way through the glasses and dishes that cracked from his gaze. The heir himself went to the fourth floor of the bedroom and went to bed. Half an hour later, Kreacher repaired all the damage, so that no one would ever know about the incident.
*
Grimmo 12, living room, quarter to noon, August 26, 1991.
*
I woke up around 5:00 in the morning wanting to kill. It took me about five hours to get my balance back. At 10:00 a.m., I sent Kreacher to the post office to get the address. Then I sent Kreacher with a note to Gringotts, got an answer, and now in full gear I was expecting a new development. I was a reference model of a ready to attack warrior, "no intentions, and no concepts".
At noon Kreacher took me to Gringotts, where I got the Shnagrog portkeys, a C-rated anti-apparition shield and a change of appearance amulet that I immediately put on. Shnagrog then took me to the meeting room, where two gentlemen of luck were waiting for me. After signing a standard contract that stipulated confidentiality, secrecy, and duties of the parties, I got to the point:
"Gentlemen, the purpose of our operation is to take over the facility. A target is a man, in his early thirties. The man is weak, he has been under Imperius for a long time in the house, the patient can not leave him. The expected opposition is the house-elf. Since it's a working day, there's probably no one else in the house. It is as insurance that your services are needed. You do not intervene until there is an immediate threat to the purpose of the operation, or until I request help. The subject is a runaway felon, a convicted criminal on death row. No one will look for him, and no one will report his disappearance. After the capture, you're free to go, the contract is done. Any questions? No questions. Okay, and then let's move out now. Here's the key. Letus!"
People say that house-elves feel when their enemies want to hurt their home or their masters. I don't want to hurt the house or their masters. I came to get mine. Barty Crouch Jr. volunteered his life and his freedom to the Dark Lord. Now that I have defeated the Dark Lord, Barty Crouch's life and freedom belong to me! He is mine. Reflecting on that spirit and keeping my mind cool and whole, I knocked on the door of Crouch's house in Godric's Hollow. The door opened for Vinky and squeaked:
"Mr. Barty Crouch is not home, please come back later."
"Vinky, you're Vinky, right? I came to get what's mine. I know there's a Barty Crouch in the house," with those words, Vinky's eyes almost rolled up.
With a detached thought that I was removing an obstacle to my property, I struck a sharp and fast sword and overstepped Vinky's body.
"Detect object!"
"Homenum Revelio!" pronounced the left, and followed the corridor, "Object detected!"
In the bedroom, a man in his 30s was lying on the bed, twitching and trying to resist the Imperius.
"Kreacher!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Put him to sleep. He needs to be taken to the mansion cellar, undressed and bound. Do it!"
"Sir, yes, sir!" Kreacher disappeared with Barty.
I took the ace of spades in my hand:
"Contract completed, gentlemen. Letus!"
*
Grimmo 12
*
I was pleased and dissatisfied. This is real life. Joy is filled with echoes of irritation. It's done in a few minutes! I'm sorry about the money that was spent. This is life.
"Kreacher! Can you keep it in your sleep for a week without harming its health?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Very well. He will serve the Black family not only as a victim."
The next few days were dedicated to deep reflection, planning and some shopping. We started a war. Now Dumbledore will leave any attempt to play a good and caring grandfather. He attacked me! He took my magic wand away from me. Dumbledore began his meeting with a spell. It was the beginning of a war. Now I don't care about any of the enemy's plans. The enemy must be destroyed. Or he will destroy me. I don't want to be a victim in the name of others' interests. It's time to strike swiftly and forcefully against the enemy.
I have learned the main thing. A great wizard is not omnipotent. He is vulnerable, and he can lose. I almost got him! He is strong with his experience. He outplayed me in a simple game. He had an assistant. The old woman doesn't count. Although who knows her. I don't know what spells a 200-year-old witch can cast! She studied at a time when Muggles were slaughtered like pigs for fun! Dumbledore gave me a lesson. I can't do this without a team. I'm so too late! I let the Black family down. First I have to think about where and why I'm going. I have to take care of the bodyguard. There's been a war.
And let the weak bury the bodies.