25

September 1st. Grimmo 12.

The lack of money has to be compensated for. Maybe Barty can drop me off a couple or three stashes.

"Kreacher! Do we have a veritaserum potion?"

"No, sir!"

"Well, how can I work in this environment? Take me to casemate with the prisoner. When we get there, wake him up!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Barty was lying on the floor of the camera on his back. He was chained to the floor. There was a strange magical background in the cell. Elfish magic? Kreacher has his favorite style, or so it says in the ancestral manual.

"Well, hello, Barty. How are you? Comfortable lying on a stone floor? Alas, the eater doesn't get a soft bed."

"The dark lord will punish you. Bow to the Dark Lord, worm!"

Are all the eaters in England so crazy? One wizard is crazy, one maniac, a third is a murderer. Well, take me, for instance. I came closer and kicked Barty's foot lightly with my shoe. That's how kids poke a stick at a puppy's body.

Barty, you haven't been in Azkaban that long, you haven't had all your brains sucked out there. Think about it, why would I punish myself?

You don't think that Voldemort is the Dark Lord."

I stepped on his genitals, and I achieved the effect I needed. That degenerate shut up and moaned.

"What kind of Dark Lord is he? An ordinary dark magician and a petty loser. I'm the true Dark Lord here, you bastard," I repeated the procedure. "Your Muggle Loser just realized the real Dark Lord was born and tried to kill me out of envy. He ended up dying at the hand of a year-old Dark Lord, as a Muggle Loser should. How! That bastard didn't tell you? His real name is Tom Riddle, like his Muggle father and grandfather Muggle."

All Barty had in his eyes been hate. Well, I'll break you, puppy.

"I swear by the magic that Tom Riddle, also known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, son of a Muggle, grandson of a Muggle. Lumos!"

The eater saw the light and there were tears in his eyes.

"Oh, you really didn't know? I'm sorry, poor man, I'm sorry. It must be so fascinating for purebred wizards who fight for the purity of blood. Did you like kissing the robe of Muggle's son and squirming at his Crucio? That's the maximum you can do as a degenerate. What's wrong with you, son of a pig and a dog, talking. Imperius! Listen to the orders of the true Dark Lord, you bastard! Dictate the list of Death Eaters, and slowly, I write it down!"

Crouch is a good family. Strong wizards. First you have to lie down, and then gather information. As a result, I've got this list with brief characteristics.

Lucius Malfoy - bought it off;

Walden Macnair - bought it off;

Corban Yaxley turned around;

Marcus Avery - bought it off;

Crabb/Goyle/Nott, all paid off:

Antonin Dolohov (in Azkaban)

Lestranges - 3 pcs. (In Azkaban)

Carrow - 2 pcs. (In Azkaban)

Malcibers - 2 pcs. (In Azkaban)

Rookwood (in Azkaban)

Jugson (in Azkaban)

Travers (in Azkaban)

Pettigrew, uh, what happened to him I don't know. Bones took him, but what happened to him next? Well, there's no news.

Snape works at Hogwarts.

It's a miserable sight. Magical England truly deserves to be destroyed, if two incomplete tens of inbreeding propagandists have organized in the country no less than a war. The Aurors must be unable to find a cock in their pants during the day with a lantern if they couldn't catch a handful of madmen. On the other hand, I don't know how they fought. I'm not interested in reading the papers or knowing who's cuter than my rivals. Dumbledore's great. The supreme member of Wizengamot spent the whole war at Hogwarts. He was polishing his wand, he didn't have time to "fight." It's unethical and gives the darkness, fighting is dangerous.

I smiled. It's a good idea to get stronger. And I need the death of weakened opponents. I will put this kingdom in order!

Besides, Barty told me about the Eaters' locations that I already knew. They lived in the Malfoys, Avery, Lestrange estates. When asked about the extra stashes, Barty started choking and rolling his eyes out. I rushed to cancel the order to answer. As a bonus, he gave me two anonymous deposits at Gringotts.

The money's great. I need to solve Malfoy's problem in the next two years, the rest of it's a trifle. Prisoners in Azkaban will sit for at least three more years. I guarantee they won't leave prison alive.

Kreacher! Organize the transfer of the victim to the ritual hall. The time has come to strengthen the defense."

"Sir, yes, Sir!"

At least some stability in these stormy times. Magic is a drug. Serious magic. Not stupid waving a wand. Sacrifice is a very powerful drug. Am I becoming an addict? Am I going crazy? Why did I kill Weasley's kids?

I stand and understand the full extent of an honest answer. I did what I did with honor. I did the right thing. And by the way, two men of the Weasley family are still alive! Let's see what blood traitors can do.

It's time to recruit warriors and vassals to the Black family.

*

September 1, 1991.

Gringotts, conference room.

*

"Good to see you, Master Shnagrog!"

"Greetings, heir to the Black family!"

"Master Shnagrog, I would like to transfer money from these bank accounts," I moved a piece of paper to Shnagrog with account numbers and passwords, "Transfer money to my bank account."

Shnagrog took the paper with his right hand, at that time the door opened, a younger goblin came in, took the paper from Shnagrog and disappeared. What an organization!

"I'm also interested in a non-standard service."

"I hear you, heir to the Black family."

"I'd like to hire some squibs. It'd be perfect if they had combat experience in the Muggle army or police. It's a dangerous time. Eaters can attack like they attacked Moody. I need between four and eight specialists. I'd also like to hire some wizards, two or three wands, but later, in two months. The contract is standard, with all necessary vows of loyalty and confidentiality. How much will it cost to assist Gringotts in hiring specialists?"

"You have some kind of order, heir to the Black family," at that time the door opened and the old young goblin gave the Shnagrog parchment before he left. "But the perseverance with which you fill the family vault, recklessly wasted by your ancestor, is respected. I feel confident that all your business will undoubtedly benefit the Black family. You have received sixteen thousand eight hundred and fourteen galleons and six knats from your anonymous accounts.

Gringotts' service will be 200 galleons for each squib hired, and 350 galleons for each wizard hired. How much compensation should I give the candidates?"

"Two hundred and fifty galleons a month for a squib and three hundred and fifty galleons for a wizard. Plus some social guarantees, the details of which I will discuss with the candidates personally. In addition, master Shnagrog, I would like to repeat the order for simple and emergency portkeys. Here is my order sheet. Please inform the P.O. Box indicated to you about the recruitment process."

I took a short pause in formulating the question.

"Master Shnagrog, is there a quick magic method to learn a foreign language?"

"Alas, no, heir to the Black family. With the occlumency, you can improve your memory. Besides, there are some potions that temporarily enhance your learning ability."

"Master Shnagrog, I'm going to need these potions along with a description of how they are used. I'm willing to spend up to five hundred galleons on this."

"When your elf comes for the potions, the potions will be ready."

"Thank you for your time! That's all for today, Master Shnagrog."

Shnagrog, apparently, remembering my last "response", just said goodbye. A nice but nasty goblin. I've already come up with courtesy in response!