Episode 12. Part 3

Episode 12. Part 3

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- So when were you going to tell us that the Dark Lord was reborn, and with your help, eh, Potter? - Draco asked with resentment in his voice, arrogantly and not at all friendly, at the first club meeting of the school year. His father had just sent him a letter today, finally informing him of the true identity of the guest who had been staying with them all summer and who had caused him to be denied access to his favorite wing of the manor. Curious Draco wondered who it was, but all he could find out was that the guest was no older than he was. And suddenly it turned out that it was not only the Dark Lord himself, but also, according to the idea, his worst enemy and best friend of Malfoy Jr. himself, helped him revive. Draco was offended by such distrust and even insulted...

- Malfoy, you, as Malfoy, should understand that there are secrets that can not be told even to friends, often for their own good," interceded for cousin Dudley.

- What? You knew too?! - The children of the Eaters shrieked. The others were shocked: they had no way of knowing about the rebirth. Unwittingly, the thought crept into their heads that maybe Neville was right...

- Harry, what really happened? - Luna asked quietly when the babble of questions subsided. - We trust you. You are our friend. But we have to find out everything from you. We just don't want our involuntary doubts to be taken advantage of, and we've become like Neville... - Lovegood, as always, said sensible things. She was odd, she understood the world in her own way, but in complicated matters that led to arguments and even fights between raters, she easily found a way to resolve the conflict. After she said that, however, everyone tensed up, for she had unwittingly spoken their minds. Harold was pensively silent, Dudley frowned...

It was five minutes of piercing silence before Harold, glancing over at Dudley, who blinked in agreement with their mutual decision, spoke. I'll tell you what happened. And Potter told him how he and his brother had lived their lives, what they had dreamed of, how they had understood the world and learnt magic before Hogwarts, how the letter had arrived while he was travelling and Dudley was ill, how Dumbledore had appeared once they had touched and read it, and why they had not liked him at all. And then he recounted the school events, including the Troll, the Assassination of Quirrell, and the theft of the Philosopher's Stone, through which they met the Flamel and found out that those were their ancestors. He recounted the events of the second and third years, as well as what was "left out" of the fourth year. Dudley helped here, too, inserting a few phrases about how he was so worried about his brother, because he knew that if he didn't negotiate with Voldemort, the chances of his survival would collapse catastrophically. Harold also told him that the Dark Lord had changed through his magic. And also about the treaty between the Eaters and the magical Lords of England on a plan for reform in the country.

The rat-catchers were silent for a long time, pondering the new information. Of course, the most shocking thing for them was the resurrection of Voldemort at Potter's hands and the fact that he had killed the ZOTI professor in first year after all. None of them, no matter how hard they looked, could see the remorse in their leader's eyes. However, Quirrell was still possessed by Voldemort's spirit, and voluntarily anyway - that excused Harry. And the Dark Lord had changed, hadn't he?

Harold, calm as a boa constrictor, waited for the verdict. He knew his friends would not turn on him. Otherwise, they would have done so long ago. And Neville just needed the headmaster, so he did something to their friend. Neville wouldn't have doubted it either.

- Well, that's unexpected, but... you two have always had your wits about you," MacMillan said slowly.

- Okay, consider yourself justified, Potter," Draco sighed as well, and the boys nodded in agreement with him. The girls, especially the non-Slytherin ones, hesitated a little longer, but still, accepted Harry as he was: withdrawn, unsociable, untrusting, and very, very vindictive.

- Harold, we children of our fathers are supposed to serve...

- We don't have to," Survivor Boy snorted, smiling at his friends and answering Theodore. - One of my conditions to him was your freedom. You can choose, either you are with him, and participate in the war that has not yet begun as his pawns, or you are with Dumbledore, which is similar, only the leader has a beard, or you are with me, in neutrality, and stay out of the war. Keep in mind, however, that my condition to Voldemort does not apply to your loved ones, those who have already chosen sides. If you have families of your own, that applies to them, but not to your parents, uncles, aunts, sisters, brothers, or grandparents.

That's not why we're here, as I recall. Neville was brainwashed by Dumbledore. I, as his suzerain, am obliged to keep my promise and get Longbottom out of the clutches of the "good grandfather." That means my war with the Headmaster, and the fact that I am, until I get Neve out, tied to bloody England. My magic doesn't work on Neve for some reason, and I ask those of you who are more knowledgeable in the magical world, how can we get through to our friend?

- It depends on what exactly Dumbledore did to him," Daphne shrugged her shoulders. - There could be a lot of options: potions, influence of legiliments, spells, spoilages, jinxes, rituals... - Amulets," Tracy finished for her friend. Everyone stared at her in astonishment. - What? Wearing a piece of jewelry, bewitched to bend to the will of its maker or giver.

- "It's worth exploring all the possibilities," Dudley remarked.

- "And as for knowledge, Master, that goes to the goblins," Zabini interjected. - "They're the most knowledgeable creatures in the magical world, because they have all our finances, and they must know everything about clients. They don't normally sell personal information, but you're Lord Potter, a very powerful client of theirs with a pretty good fortune in their accounts, and, besides, the Boy Who Survived. Don't think that only humans and only the English want you as an ally. You could try...

Oh, yeah? Well, let's give it a try. In the meantime, let's make a plan to test Neve...

***

- "My dear Grapbukh, I swear on the honor of the family, I do not wish to insult you with a question," Harold put his hand to his heart as he looked the goblin earnestly in the eyes. And the black eyes of goblins could withstand the gaze of few wizards. - I believe you misunderstand me. I did not ask you to sell me information about any of your clients. I am asking you for information that only the magical races can keep, and that modern wizards have forgotten. Sadly, the Weyles have lost that knowledge as well, or I certainly would not have come to you. I suppose they just didn't dare open up to me, though.

- So why are you interested in this?

- I take it my answer, among other things, determines your answer?

- That's right, Lord," the goblin grinned. The affair, of course, was taking place at Gringotts, right in the bank manager's office. While the Ratbats were racking their brains wondering how Dumbledore had tricked Neville, Harold, in his spare time away from his professors, studying for his externship, and his wife, decided to devote to finding out why his magic had not thrown Longbottom off the headmaster's spell. He had been using his powers for a long time, and he was used to the fact that they performed almost all his whims without fail, except that they did not create food or gold out of nothing. But when he stumbled upon something beyond his magic, he felt... cheated and defenseless, finally realizing how foolish he had been for most of his life to rely on a power he knew absolutely nothing about, but more importantly, unaware of the possible consequences of using it. Harold had used it in public and, moreover, on his own brother! His own aunt had been burned by it once before, and he distinctly remembered that he had not wished it. But the magic had worked anyway.

So Lord Potter decided to find out what kind of power he possessed. However, investigation quickly revealed that no such information could be found in the family libraries. Neither in the Potter vault of knowledge, nor in the huge Black library, nor in the Flamel collection of books, scrolls, and papyrus, nor even in the special sections of the Malfoy Manor library did he find anything he needed. However, realizing that this power of his was magic, Harold decided to turn to the magical races that treasured and passed on knowledge of both the universe in general and magic in particular. Grandmother Fleur, head of the Veil Clans of Europe, unfortunately could not help. They kept many of the knowledge lost by the mages, but he couldn't find the knowledge he needed. So he ventured to the goblins.

And so, turning to the head of the British branch of Gringotts, the goblin Grapbukh, and realizing that this might be his only chance to find what he needed, he did not allow himself lies or a hint of intrigue, but spoke directly about the situation with Neville, Dumbledore and his magic. The goblin seemed to like the fact that Potter was determined to confront Dumbledore. He also approved of the national hero's determination to keep his promise to his friend and vassal. But most of all he liked the fact that Harold didn't take magic as most wizards do, lightly. It bought him confidence.

Harold, by the way, had no doubt that the conversation would stay within the walls of the magic bank. The Potters were one of the ten families that, as customers of Gringotts, were considered a priority. It was to the goblins' advantage that the owners of the untold treasures lurking in the vaults of their dungeons would trust them. So it was a shameful disgrace, punishable by death, to reveal information about such clients. Harold could afford to be frank. And the goblin was pleased with his client's trust, for unlike humans, his race sensed lies, and therefore despised mages, who lied almost always. That, too, was a payoff.

So even though it was possible for a goblin to sell information about his clients, Grabuch decided that he would not reveal the secret of Survivor Boy's survival to the wizarding world. Lord Potter, it is not in my power to divulge such information. But you've managed to convince me that you really need it for a very reasonable purpose. I will give you permission to visit the capital of my people and try to arrange a meeting with the elders. The rest is up to you. - The director of Gringotts has decided to help Potter, so that perhaps one day he too may help his race...

- Oh, I am honored! - Harold, who had not expected it, exclaimed. - I..."

"That's right," Graspbukh interrupted the client, "don't forget that! And I want you to understand that I am not doing this because you are among a small number of the highest-priority clients, not because your reasons are good enough for my people to reveal their secrets to you, and not because you are the Boy Who Survived. I do so because you, having a natural immunity to the charms of the Weil, which implies a degree of contempt for this magical race, married one of them anyway, and for love, too. And you performed two complete rituals that not only resulted in your betrothed being fully incorporated into the Potter clan, but you yourself acquired some of the magical traits of a Vale as the spouse of one of them. Wizards began to look upon the magical races with contempt and arrogance. You knew that your choice would invite condemnation, and you married anyway. It is this, that is, treating the magical races as equals, that makes you, in my eyes and the eyes of my race, a respected wizard.

- As if the Potters ever cared about public opinion," Harold shrugged dismissively.

- Right," the goblin nodded, grinning. - I can still remember the commotion when your father married a Muggle girl. None of the clamorers realized he'd unintentionally renewed the bloodline, made it stronger. You'll make it even stronger.

- You seem to care a great deal about my continuation of the bloodline... - Of course! If no one inherits your vaults when you die, they will have to be blocked. And then we will not be able to invest your money in profitable enterprises, according to the contract multiplying both your and our gold! - Grapbukh exclaimed. - But we have digressed from the subject. Do not forget why I agreed to meet you. Don't fail me, my trust..."

Harold had only to nod, for he knew that goblins were not mages, not enough to flee to another country to hide from if necessary. He seemed to have made the most dangerous agreement he had ever made...

***

- Ah, it's you, Potter! You used to... - Professor Snape was checking an essay late at night when there was a knock at his office. He wasn't really expecting anyone at this late hour. Unless his snakes might have come to warn him of his planned pranks so that he could cover for them in case of emergency. In any case, he let the guest in, and only then did he remember that actually, according to last year's schedule, the son of the beloved woman and the hated rival came to him at this time for extra potions lessons.

- You didn't think, Severus, that since I was expelled from Hogwarts, I would take the chance to escape your extra classes, did you? - Harold raised his eyebrows mockingly, sitting down uninvited in the nearest chair.

- Absolutely not! - snickered the caster. He didn't even want to admit it to himself, but talking to this asshole was not enough for him. That's why he wanted to know, without hiding his curiosity. I was appointed by proxy. I got the mastery, and then the Headmaster stood up for me at the trial. He also took it upon himself to look after me. To keep me under his control, that's why they appointed me. But you..." "Just because no one saw me study extra doesn't mean it didn't happen," Potter shrugged. Frankly, he was getting tired of these questions. So he snorted dismissively: - "Pfft, like you don't know who benefits from my presence here and how these things are done with money and influence. You know they don't teach children in our country specifically, they just give a few tips and a booklet..." Severus snickered: of course, he knew that by their laws any wizard could become a professor, even an idiot like Zlotopust Locons. - And I'll finish my education as an extern. I'm not used to the pressure of studying.

- Your father is turning over in his grave," Snape grinned, immediately cringing at what one of the students had written in the essay. - Who'd have thought that that... Wigeon could have had and raised an heir worthy of the family!

- Severus, I know you don't have the best memories of my father. But you do realize that he only bullied you because of my mother? - Harold reminded me in a cool tone. - Because you had her friendship and he didn't.

- And yet Lily chose him," Severus sighed sincerely, nostalgically. He still remembered the redheaded witch, continuing to hold her image fondly in his heart.

- I hope you're not trying to compare Rachel to my mother? - Then the older professor grinned again and shook his head: the witches were too different to compare. Harold was pleased with that "answer. He remained silent for a while, letting his unexpected friend finish reading the essay and decide what grade to give it. However, he did not have the strength to hold on much longer: - Eh, it's a pity you were not at the feast, and I could not get to your lessons. I wish I could have seen the faces of the students at the sight of your new role..." he asked wistfully.

- I would have liked to have seen your face, in your first class..." Severus couldn't help but retort: the boy continued to easily trick him into emotion, not allowing himself to remain completely indifferent. - I'll look it up in one of the students' memories, though. But are you here to talk or to study?

- Yeah, yeah, grumpy, I'll get the pot," Potter sighed, walking meekly toward the back room. - And yet, I bet you sure as hell like shocking people, and far more than scaring..." Severus snorted loudly, but then mentally assured himself that he'd better put up with the asshole's behavior. After all, all the Potters he knew knew knew how to barge into a calm, measured, familiar life like a hurricane, tear down all the self-discipline barriers carefully built up over the years and turn everything upside down.

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