You can all point your wands at me and say "Avada Kedavra," and I'm sure I won't even bleed from my nose! (p. Goblet of Fire)
***The next day, as always, I had a lot to do. First, the goblins, then a visit to Gorbina's shop to buy some safety equipment.
I left Gringotts, as always, with a heavy heart and a light wallet. At this rate, the mountain of gold in my account would soon start to show its bottom. The little people, although they were a guarantee of quality, charged very decent sums for their services. But that's okay, I have ideas on how to replenish it... Or rather, hints of ideas. Despite the old contracts that brought in a steady income, the family business needed radical changes and new investments. However, there was still time, and if things went well, a decent "compensation" should fall into my account. In the meantime, it was worth limiting my spending. Starting tomorrow, as always...
However, today I still had some major purchases to make, which I haggled over with my inner hamster, who had unwittingly relaxed after gaining access to my main accounts. The meeting in Lyutnoe was scheduled for nine. Until then, I wandered around Diagon Alley in the guise of an inconspicuous wizard. Fortunately, this helped me avoid unnecessary excitement caused by my beautiful appearance. Fame, whether negative or positive, had its drawbacks. One of them was the inability to simply walk around without the intrusive attention of ordinary people and journalists... However, it was time to wrap up my walk. Thirty minutes had passed in leisurely reflection, and it was time to head towards Lyutny.
Turning into an inconspicuous alley and wandering around the courtyards for a while, I came out onto the gloomy streets of the "criminal quarter".
Despite its repulsive appearance, there was something about this place... The same fog, the same deliberate desolation. Old buildings, dating back to the Middle Ages. Gothic...
***I was moving towards a shop when a tall figure in a hood blocked my way. And when I tried to get around the sudden obstacle, my instincts screamed danger behind me. My reflexes threw my body into a roll, and the green flash of Avada, fired from somewhere behind me, only scorched my back with an unpleasant chill.
"Merlin! I just went out to do some shopping..." I had just enough time to think before events began spinning like a mad carousel.
As soon as I emerged from the dip, two more similar beams struck the spot where I had just been, knocking stone chips out of the old pavement.
"Avis!" A flock of canaries flew out of my staff with a bang, and the next curse broke against them. I managed to block one grey beam with my shield. I had to dodge two more. My opponents, two of them, were professionally pinning me down, and I zigzagged towards the wall, trying to at least protect my rear.
"$@№ть!" — a bomb exploded on my right, slightly deafening me in one ear. — Protego! Protego duo! AVIS! Totulum!!! Fianco duri... — I barely had time to cast protective spells one after another, wisely sending the canaries to their deaths from the unforgivable... The figures in cloaks slowly and monotonously showered me with various curses, occasionally throwing in Avadas. But I had achieved the main thing: now they were all on one side, which gave me room to manoeuvre.
One last push — and there was the wall... Forming a semicircle in front of me, I created the most powerful defensive spell I was capable of, which gave me a brief second to catch my breath.
"They definitely don't want to take me alive..." — a fleeting thought flashed through my mind as transfiguration formulas flashed through my mind. The black cherry wand fluttered obediently in my hands, singing its deadly song...
"Flipendo Tria!" A small tornado swept the curses flying at me straight into one of the figures. For the first time in the entire fleeting battle, I heard the voices of my killers. It was a cry of despair — the attacker's hood burst like an overripe watermelon. The taste of iron appeared on my lips.
I was the only one left. With growing excitement, I began to throw spells at him that I had learned in Aurorate. "Tarantallagra, Titillando, Expulso..." The magical instrument in my hand danced like a conductor's baton, simultaneously casting these simple curses and forming a completely different formula. Now it was no longer me defending myself from the barrage of spells, barely managing to block the blows with my shield. And then, the final stroke — "Everte Statum."
Receiving a powerful blow to the chest, the enemy flew straight into the trap that had been prepared for him. Two grotesque, huge palms, as if they had emerged from the ground, grabbed the attacker by the wrists, breaking them.
"Fulgari," dark ropes wrapped around the figure like a cocoon, leaving only the face exposed.
"Well, well, who do we have here?" With a malicious grin, I approached the captive, simultaneously casting a spell of confidentiality over the area. I was filled with belated anger mixed with fear... A little more, and it could have been me lying in pieces on the street, scattered after a magical battle. Stopping half a metre away from the captive, I cast a spell to remove the attacker's mask.
"Legilim...
"Ha..." The bearded man grinned contemptuously, and before I could finish the spell... he died. Just like that — and now there was a still-warm body lying next to me.
"Well, well..." After checking his pulse and performing a quick diagnosis, I had to admit that he was definitely dead. "What am I supposed to do with you now?"
I never found out how he died, whether it was from an unknown amulet or a common ampoule in his tooth. Since everything was over, I had to get out of this inhospitable alley. Unfortunately, I'm not a necromancer, and a dead witness is useless to me. So, quickly cleaning up all the traces, I apparated to my native home. Home. I had to think everything through carefully. Once again.
***I cursed. Long and loud, interspersing English words with my native "Great and Mighty." And why? Because I'm an idiot... I should have checked myself for various tracking devices and other surprises immediately after the trial, which of course I didn't do. Although I should have. And I'm not even excused by the fact that I slept a maximum of four hours a day, dealing with current problems and making plans.
The first question that came to mind after I calmed down and thought everything through was, "How did they find me?" Strangely enough, the answer came from Valpurga, who noticed my restlessness. After a couple of rituals, I discovered at least two active trackers attached to my aura, which were, of course, immediately destroyed. But why didn't I do that earlier? The most unpleasant thing is that it will no longer be possible to identify the author of these devices; perhaps I was too hasty in destroying them.
The only thing I knew for sure was that they were there. Anyone could have put them there, from Dumbledore to Malfoy... Although the latter would hardly send assassins after me, as it is not in his interest at this point. But if I had just performed a couple of cleansing rituals, the encounter that nearly cost me my life could have been easily avoided. The only upside I got out of this situation was the realisation that someone clearly wants me dead (as if I didn't suspect it, my death is too convenient for a number of people) and the chance to test my abilities in real life. Not great, if you look at it honestly. The guys, I assume, were probably just mercenaries, and I, the almighty Lord Black, an all-powerful time traveller and lord of an ancient family, almost disgraced myself in front of them.
So, chastising myself for my carelessness, I returned to Lyutny (I had to apologise to Gorbyn) and then hurried to my meeting with Malfoy.
He was clearly unhappy about my tardiness, but he didn't show it. Although we travelled the entire way in almost mournful silence. I didn't insist, giving credit to the luxurious minibar.
I barely managed to persuade Malfoy to come in a regular car and not apparate directly to Tisova Street. So, on the last day of the pre-holiday week, the usual routine of Little Wing was disrupted by the appearance of the presidential Cadillac on Tisova Street. It would probably be foolish to assume that a successful businessman and politician is unaware of current trends in the Muggle world. Luxury is luxury everywhere.
The driver, a bald, taciturn man in a strict suit with a stony face, drove us right up to the front entrance. A Squib, I presume. It was a revelation to me to learn that there were several companies that specialised in providing services to wizards in the non-magical world. Due to low demand and their not entirely legal activities, there weren't many of them, but still...
Malfoy got out of the car with a surprised look on his face. Apparently, he also had auric vision and saw the spells cast on the house. There were many more of them now than on my last visit. Yes... definitely more.
As soon as we approached the house, I took out an artefact I had bought in Lytno earlier, one of those classified by the Ministry as dark. In reality, it was just a cute skull-shaped pendant that completely blocked magic from the area within a few dozen metres for a couple of minutes. Even I wouldn't be able to apparate or cast spells here for the time being, and all the spells hanging on the house like Christmas tree decorations would cease to work. Perhaps someone like Dumbledore could break through this anti-magic field, but I hope that a member of the Wizengamot has other things to worry about right now, heh heh.
The artefact in my hand crunched quietly, snapping shut. All right, now we can move on. It's a shame that these things are usually disposable. I don't even want to think about how much gold I paid old Gorbyn for this trinket...
"I'll talk to Harry's guardians," I warned Malfoy, who was looking back at me with disgust. He just snorted in response. Yeah, he probably didn't want to talk to the Dursleys, but it was still worth warning him.
"You... you!" was all Petunia could say as she opened the door and froze like a stone statue in the doorway. A rather unpleasant statue, I must say. Her jaw dropped in surprise, making her elongated face look even more like a horse's muzzle. How nature loves to joke. Her sister, Lily, had been a real beauty even in her school days.
Petunia recovered from her initial shock and tried to slam the door shut.
"Not so fast, Pet," I blocked the door with the toe of my shoe and, ignoring the woman who was hissing worse than a cat, went inside. "Don't you want to talk to an old friend?"
"I have no desire to talk to a criminal," Petunia backed away, looking around frantically, apparently searching for Dursley Sr.
"PETUNIA! WHO'S THERE?!" There he was, that booming bass I could recognise anywhere. Even when I was at their wedding, and Vernon Dursley was still a young, skinny guy with a barely noticeable belly, he already amazed me with his vocal abilities. He should have been singing opera instead of selling drills. What a talent wasted...
The heavy footsteps of a bison could be heard from the living room. A couple of seconds later, Vernon himself stumbled into the hallway, his face immediately turning an angry crimson.
"THEY'RE CRAZY AGAIN!!! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE...," bellowed Dursley Senior like a wounded elephant.
"Quiet," I grabbed the stick (useless now, but they didn't know that) and pointed it at Vernon. The shouting stopped as quickly as it had started, as if I had cast a spell. Apparently, the fat man remembered from his wedding that it was better not to anger wizards. Vernon looked warily at the concentrator, as if he were in the crosshairs of a gun. In fact, that might have been the case.
Behind me, I noticed movement. Malfoy had settled into a chair in the corner, watching the unfolding spectacle with interest.
"It's in your best interest to keep quiet and calm," I said, moving the wand from the slowly turning blue Dursley to Petunia. "Now you call Harry, I'll take my godson with me, and we'll leave your 'hospitable' home immediately.
"That little... — Dursley choked on the end of his sentence when the wand returned to its original position," — ... boy? Take him! As far as I'm concerned, he should have been given to... n... "your people" a long time ago. He's in the attic right now. Petunia!
Vernon even cheered up a little, apparently having wanted to get rid of the burden for a long time.
Mrs. Dursley pursed her lips, shook her head, and turned away. Strange, what's wrong with her?
An awkward pause fell over the hallway for a few seconds.
"Fine, I'll do it myself," Vernon said, pulling his cheek, and walked to the stairs, taking a deep breath...
***Harry was cleaning up again. Again. Over the years of doing these chores, he had come to sincerely hate cleaning and everything associated with it. That's why the boy's room was always a mess. And it wasn't creative chaos... But with the holidays approaching, Harry had to clean up even his own sanctuary of chaos. Aunt Marge, several of Vernon's acquaintances, including Colonel Fawcett, were coming for Christmas, so according to Aunt Petunia, the house had to look perfect. And Harry had no choice but to try to achieve this ideal.
Just a couple of minutes ago, he had been sent to clean the attic, which probably hadn't been touched by human hands in a hundred years. But the holidays were coming, and his vacation had already begun... "I'd rather have extra classes at school!" Harry thought angrily, wrapping another clump of old, dusty cobwebs in a rag. With all this cleaning, Harry didn't have time to visit Lucky. And, alas, he had to forget about extra lunches...
"Potter!!! Come here... dear nephew!" came the surprisingly friendly voice of Mr. Dursley from downstairs, making Harry jump and drop the damp rag.
What had he done wrong this time?! Could his aunt have found the leftover ham and bread he had hidden in the cupboard for a rainy day? No, that didn't seem likely. Why would Vernon call Harry his dear nephew? The only time he had ever been called that was on the day the child welfare services visited. Strange...
Overcome by doubts and guesses, Harry went downstairs. There, his aunt was waiting for him, unexpectedly friendly.
"Harry, dear!" Petunia suddenly hugged the startled boy, who jerked away. He subconsciously sensed something was wrong. His aunt's back blocked his view of the strangers in the hallway. They weren't Vernon's friends, but... Could they really be coming to take him to a children's home, like his uncle had threatened?
This and even more terrible thoughts flashed through the bewildered boy's mind. Then he looked up and saw...
"Mr Black!" The boy smiled when he saw the owner of the dog he had been left to look after. Harry liked his "job," if you could call it that. Taking care of the animal was not a burden for him, and he was even allowed to eat dinner at the restaurant for free. Mr Black insisted that Harry take the money, but the boy was quite content with a delicious and filling meal once a day. To ask for more would have been presumptuous... and Potter couldn't stand presumptuous people, and he had no desire to get on anyone's back... But why had Mr Black come to his house? Could it be...
"Has something happened to Lucky, sir?" the boy asked, looking frightened.
"What? Oh, no, no! The dog is fine. Thank you for looking after him while I was away," I was a little taken aback by such a sudden question at first, but then I couldn't help but be happy, because a happy smile was blooming on the boy's face. "I'm here, in a way, because of you.
"Because of me?" Harry now looked a bit like a surprised owl, his eyes were so wide.
"Yes, kid," I crouched down in front of Harry so that our eyes were level. "On the day we first met, I didn't tell you everything. The thing is..."
"He's your uncle," Petunia, who had been silent until then, said with a deathly pale expression on her face.
"What?!" The boy looked utterly shocked, which only added to his resemblance to the feathered inhabitant of the night forest.
"Give us a minute," I stood up and gave the Dursleys a meaningful look. Under my not-so-kind gaze, they clearly became nervous and decided it would be best to retreat to the kitchen.
Returning to my half-sitting position in front of the stunned boy, I looked him straight in the eye. A lump suddenly formed in my throat and it became difficult to find the right words.
"Harry, I really am your uncle, or rather, your godfather," I ruffled my godson's black hair. Then I pointed to Malfoy sitting next to me, "And this is another uncle of yours, Lucius."
"Hello, Harry," the seasoned schemer smiled gently. Now he didn't look like a cold statue; on the contrary, his whole figure radiated warmth and care.
"But..." The boy looked from me to Lucius, his eyes darting back and forth, as if he still couldn't believe that this was real...
"Listen, godson... I understand I haven't been around for a long time... but... would you like to come live with me?" All the words I had prepared vanished into thin air. Damn it! It was easier to negotiate with Malfoy than to say a few sentences to a child. If I were in his place, I would have sent such an "uncle" away and been right, but... How like shit I feel now, manipulating the trust and kindness of a child who has not yet been spoiled.
"Yes..." Harry said in a voice hoarse with emotion, suddenly throwing himself into my arms. I awkwardly hugged my godson, calming his body shaking with sobs, hoping desperately that they were tears of joy.
"I don't want to interrupt a happy family reunion, but we have to go," Malfoy was as tactful as ever. I glared at him, but he just nodded at his watch. "It's going to get too crowded here.
As much as I hated to admit it, the blond man was right. Dumbledore could discover that his spells had been broken at any moment.
"Harry, we're leaving right now. And we probably won't be back. Do you need to pack anything?" Pushing the boy away who was clinging tightly to me, I looked into his tear-stained eyes and ruffled his already tousled hair.
"We'll buy clothes and other things, but if there's anything important to you, now's the time to take it."
"No, I don't have anything," the boy said with disarming honesty. And once again, I suppressed a flash of anger directed at these... Muggles.
Vernon seemed to understand something, and his face, peeking out from around the corner, turned pale. He quietly tried to slip away, which looked rather awkward given his build.
"And you, Mr. Dursley, have another visitor waiting for you," I almost hissed, but calmed down and continued. "In a couple of minutes, you'll have a visitor — an elderly man in strange clothes. He won't be in a very good mood, so I advise you to tell him the truth. Harry's godfather took him away. Is that clear?
"But...
"The necessary documents for the transfer of custody will be drawn up shortly. My lawyer will contact you. I hope that this concludes our meeting and that it will not happen again. Goodbye."
With these words, I gently pushed the stunned Harry towards the exit. I had a lot more I wanted to say to these two, but time was running out. I had to leave.
"Ah..." Harry yawned as he walked out. Crossing the threshold of the anti-magic barrier, I immediately put him into a magical sleep and easily threw his already sleeping frail body into the car. Perhaps it was a little unfair to the child (and from the outside it looked like kidnapping), but he needed to rest. Too many shocks for his fragile psyche. And the adults needed to talk about something.
Malfoy was already on his way to the car; saying goodbye to Muggles was beneath him. We got into the limousine, and the driver drove the Cadillac straight down the motorway, activating the Muggle-repelling charms as he went.
As the car sped through the sleepy streets of suburban London, quickly moving towards the agreed location, a heated argument was taking place in the spacious cabin of the American dream, the subject of which was a black-haired boy in round bicycle glasses, comfortably settled on a soft leather seat.
"If I were in a computer game, there would be a message saying I'd gone up at least ten levels," I said, tired but not broken. With a hoarse voice, I bargained for freedom for myself and Harry. But finally, it was over. We had arrived.
"Black, I hope you remember our agreement?"
Before I got out of the limousine, Malfoy held me back by the arm.
"Blacks always keep their word, Lucius," I said, looking meaningfully into his colourless eyes and leaving the sentence unfinished. Malfoy understood the hint, pulling his hand away and looking away.
"Then I'll wait for the owl," the limousine door closed smoothly, hiding his well-groomed aristocratic face.
"And don't you get sick... Let's go, Harry," I said, more to myself than to him, looking at the two-metre-high portal arch, consisting entirely of flashing beams of light. Ordinary portals, or transgression at such an age, were contraindicated for a child's unstable core. So he had to worry about a stable stationary portal.
I ordered it through the goblins, paying extra for confidentiality services. The area around it was protected in advance with muggle-repelling spells, and for ordinary people, there was nothing here but a telephone booth. Only the door led Home, to Grimm Square.
***
The entire story has already been written at:
patreon.com/posts/reborn-as-sirius-142654970