Chapter 30. Women's revenge.

What is dancing for? No, no, of course, you can say that dance is a way of expressing yourself, or a way to show your feelings. Some might even say that dancing is a way of getting around. Some master, getting into the jungle, may say that dance is a way to experience the world. Rhythms, desires, emotions - all this is expressed in body movements, you need to be able to understand and convey this. But now we are talking more about pair dances, about their origins and original purpose. Dancing is a "legal" and cultural way to be close one-on-one with a representative of the opposite sex, we will not stoop to the vulgar "shake a woman", but - yes, it is.

Turning to individuals, in this case to my own personality, I will say that for me dancing is a duty. A well-bred young man must be able to dance - these are the rules. I didn't have any love for balls and dances, it's more convenient to express thoughts and feelings in words, and not with body movements. That's such a boring person I am. The ball tired me.

Even if my immersion in the world of intrigue and etiquette does not have the proper depth to perceive the school ball as a platform for building and implementing plans, my mind already had some deformation in this direction. Instead of just enjoying the opportunity to show off, which was not my character anyway, I had to take care of Padma's sister and Ron Weasley. Of course, Ronald himself hardly appreciated my efforts, thanks for having complacently forgiven me, and not holding a grudge. Although, harboring a grudge is not in Ron's character, if he has something to say, he will surely say. But the Patil sisters earned extra reputation points - that's for sure.

At the ball, I did not pay attention to the teachers at all, because they were not interesting to me. Only Dumbledore and McGonagall noted Hagrid and Madame Maxim. It's just that these couples were already very noticeable, and Dumbledore also approached me with something like a remark. But I didn't see Snape at the ball, but he was there. So, when the next day (not in the morning), he found me and notified me of the date and time of my defense, at the first moment it seemed to me that the potion maker had a hangover.

- By one o'clock tomorrow, take the trouble to be in the Ministry - in your usual manner - in fact, and not as I thought - with a hangover, said the Potions Master, tracing the words through his teeth.

"Yes, Professor," I didn't want to make Snape angry. He was probably looking for me while I accompanied Murphy, put her on the Hogwarts Express. But on the other hand, I might have guessed that everyone is on the platform this morning.

I agreed with Megan that as soon as I resolve the issue of protection for potions, I will send her an owl with a message. Then she will write down the address and the time when it will be convenient for her to see me.

Too many things I have gathered for these vacations, this is how it usually happens in life - it is thick, then empty. Quite recently I was already beginning to toil with idleness. I put the protection on the house. The issue of ownership was resolved. Studying was easy for me before. Yes, of course, I still had vampire blood as a huge reserve to study, besides, it was already time to start implementing the plan with Potter. But, to conduct experiments with vampire blood on yourself, without detailed study, would be foolish. So I put off testing. First, I'll look through a microscope to see what vampire blood does to normal blood and tissues, then I'll brew a potion and see how it works. The assumption that, having seen the difference, I would be able to assess the danger of taking a potion on the blood of a vampire was considered completely fair. It only remained to buy a sufficiently strong microscope, or to use the free resource from the Muggles.

Gathering, the next day I arrived at the ministry at the appointed time. Snape was already there, waiting for me. He did not grind his teeth, did not spit, or sip on verbal poison, but his mood had not improved since yesterday.

"You're running late, Blair," Spape reprimanded me.

Demonstratively looked at his watch and looked at the potion master.

- I arrived at the time that you indicated, professor, - calmly brought his opinion on this matter. In fact, I came even five minutes early. My habit, strange for many, of arriving in advance did not allow me to appear minute by minute, forcing me to hurry. It was usual for me to come half an hour earlier than the appointed time, or even an hour. It was not clear to me how Muscovites were half an hour late for the appointed meeting, when it took them fifteen minutes to get there by metro. You have to cut an hour or an hour and a half from the suburbs, and you showed up on time, and they are late.

Here again a memory from a past life emerged.

I don't know how long the defense was actually assigned, but there was no one in the audience when we got there. Cones, beakers, retorts, flexible transparent hoses and glass tubes were laid out on special laboratory tables. Boilers of different sizes and materials stood separately.

"Here's a plan for a showcase potion preparation," Snape gave me the list.

- Fig-behold, - I almost whistled. The plan consisted of twelve potions of varying difficulty. But all of them were distinguished by their relatively short cooking times.

- What did you say, Blair? - the potions master did not hear what I muttered under my breath.

"Isn't that a bit too much, professor?" - expressed his indignation in a mild form.

"The format of the defense was not decided by me, but by the chairman of the commission, Horace Slughorn," Snape smiled tightly. - It is not the first time that he has subtly questioned my qualifications, although he always shows respect for show.

- I understand, professor, - nodded his head, going up to the tables and starting to collect from this peculiar designer the necessary stands for magical-chemical distillation.

Even before the end of the collection of the first stand, the first Potions Master from the commission appeared. Snape greeted him discreetly and asked to sit down in any free seat. When I finished collecting the "constructor" and prepared the ingredients for the potions, the chairman himself appeared.

"Glad to greet all of you, colleagues," Slughorn greeted the audience. "Today we are gathered to witness the skill of the young Potions Master, Arrakis Black. The defense will take place in two stages. Today, the applicant will be demonstratively preparing several potions, so that no one will have any doubts that despite his youth, he has the necessary knowledge and skills.

- Please: proceed, - already addressed to me Horace.

Writing the names of the potions on the chalkboard, I began to remember the stages of their preparation, making a plan for simultaneous cooking. Drawing up the plan took about twenty minutes. In my heart I cursed Snape and Slughorn. You could have given a list in advance so that you had time to calmly prepare a laboratory map for cooking potions, but no, you need to complicate the task. Despite my excellent memory, Snape corrected my map in one place, indicating a more rational course of action. I had to tinker about fifteen minutes more, correcting everything.

At this stage, the teacher's help was acceptable, so no one made comments or was outraged. In general, the commission was bored, some yawned without embarrassment. Even when he started brewing potions, nothing in the mood of the commission changed.

Unlike the enchanting mastery defense, which was full of wizards, the commission here consisted of only seven people, including Slughorn. I didn't know any of the Potions Master, well, except for the chairman himself. And I knew that in absentia from the Harry Potter films.

For five hours, constantly checking with the compiled map, following the stages using a stopwatch, I ran non-stop from table to table, adding and reducing fire, pouring the brew from one pot to another, stirring and adding ingredients, distilling intermediate results from cones into retorts and beakers. By the end of the boil, he was like a squeezed lemon, just not out of breath.

Slughorn handed over samples to the commission as he prepared the potions. First, he took a bottle with a sample in his hands, shaken it, looking at the light - determined the sediment, or vice versa, put it on a stand, trying not to disturb the potion - to determine the stratification of liquids.

"All the potions are excellent," announced the chairman. - Do the members of the commission have anything to add?

The commission "woke up" only by the end of the cooking, when the final results began to appear. When asked by the chairman, the masters remained silent.

"Then everyone is free, thank you gentlemen," Horace announced. - I remind you that tomorrow there will be a review of the applicant's workshop. At the same time. Please don't be late.

After the masters left, Horace and Severus approached me. Looking at the Potions Master, how they communicate, it was impossible to suspect that there was hostility between them. Snape, usually somber and subtly arrogant, was now the epitome of hospitality. Horace, who seemed to dislike Severus, outwardly portrayed pride in Master Snape.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Black," Slughorn addressed me, holding out his hand in greeting. "It's a pity that I'm not your teacher. Such a young and talented student! I am sure you will be proud of Severus. Any master would be glad to have such a disciple.

"He'll become a master even before you, Severus," the chairman faked my teacher. "Besides, this is his second skill ... Yes," said Horace, smiling, "a very talented young man. You have a chance to become the youngest master of magic. Well, if Albus Dumbledore teaches you about Transfiguration.

"Actually, Director Dumbledore teaches me transfiguration and has promised to write a review on my work if I choose to defend mastery in this discipline," I said, shaking hands with Slughorn.

- Oh-oh-oh, - Horace was delighted and surprised, - I will follow your progress. But I have to go, - the chairman of the commission began to hurry. "Don't be late tomorrow," the Potions Master turned as he left the audience.

Snape looked at Horace's trail, sighed somehow broken, and turned to me:

- Arrakis, tomorrow at the same time in the same place. Then I will clean everything myself.

- Yes, professor, - I accepted the information.

Back at Hogwarts, he sent Murphy the owl to decide on the time. Tomorrow, with protection, everything will be decided.

The owl returned with an answer an hour after departure. Megan made an appointment at 1pm the day after tomorrow. As it turned out, she lives, like me, in the suburbs of London, only on the other side. As I - I mean the place of residence with the guardian.

Slughorn did not establish the most stringent rules of defense, but they cannot be called soft either. Cooking twelve potions is close to the limit of stamina that I could show, just a little more and I would have errors due to fatigue. So Slughorn passed on the brink of the permissible, a little more and the requirements could be considered too high, impracticable. And the fact that he showed his ostentatious disposition after the first day of defense is even difficult to determine unequivocally. Perhaps he showed that we are not enemies and he has nothing personal against me, or perhaps he wanted to suck up.

Slughorn guessed my aspirations to become the youngest Master. There are no more Master Transfigurators in the UK than Potions Makers. When passing the test through the ministry, you should not count on foreign representatives in the commission, therefore, with a high degree of probability, the composition will be from five to seven people. And of course, Minerva McGonagall will be on the commission. Good or bad - I don't undertake to define it offhand. She's a student of Dumbledore, so she doesn't seem to be throwing me off her hands - a stone in her teacher's garden, and on the other hand, she may have a grudge against me.

In any case, all these titles are no longer of great importance to me - just a matter of prestige. It would be even more prestigious to become a senior master, but, as already mentioned, it is much more difficult. Becoming a Senior Master by UK Department of Magic standards is even more difficult than in other countries. Human chimerology is prohibited here, even if you make small changes in your own body. They may not be sent to Azkaban, but no one will take the exam. A master ritualist without a ritual of sacrifice is not even funny. The sacrifice may not be human, but any sacrifice is prohibited in the UK. The master exam will not be accepted.

Blood magic could have been a separate area, but the confrontation between magicians and vampires eliminated this direction from the master categories. Vampires still turned out to be better than wizards in this direction, without training, simply because of a predisposition.

Somewhere there are peculiarities of the mentality of specifically local wizards, somewhere peculiarities of the ministry's policy, but it is impossible to get mastery in many disciplines in Great Britain. Therefore, a relatively small list of legal disciplines remains.

Becoming a senior master will not work quickly. Of the legal senior masters in the UK, only Dumbledore now remained. Voldemort could be included among the illegal ones. While he traveled to different countries, he defended his skill in several disciplines prohibited by the local ministry - I'm sure.

I thought about my master's degree for a long time, not thinking about anything, and the next day the defense was unexpectedly easy and simple. At first everything was like yesterday, the commission slowly gathered until our chairman, Slughorn, appeared. Then I read a report on my topic, presented to the masters a plant grown using chimerology, which was supposed to simplify and improve the recipe for a mana potion. He brewed the indicated potion according to a new recipe and received the title of master.

Of course, the potion according to the new recipe will be tested for a long time and, theoretically, the title of master can be revoked or canceled, I do not know how this procedure is called correctly. Only now, nothing like this has ever happened. History records cases when a potion was recognized as ineffective or of questionable benefit due to many side effects, but still, the title of master was retained.

In fact, any title of a master is an indicator of knowledge and experience in a certain direction of magical art. Master or senior master - the same, but in the cumulative version. Therefore, if the applicant has shown this knowledge and experience, then it would be wrong to withdraw the title.

In the gradation of mages by rank, only the archmage stood out. It was impossible to get this title by knowledge and skills. Or rather, not so, this title was received by a master or senior master when he stepped over some indefinite limit in strength for me. I know that there should be a lot of strength, but everything else is a dark forest. How is this level of strength determined? How does the exam take place? I do not know. I know that twelve or thirteen masters take such an exam - that's all.

After the exam, I returned to Hogwarts again to collect my things. Then he went in the direction of Hogsmeade, until he crossed the anti-apparatus barrier. First, he moved to the guardian's house, throw off the necessary things and how to rest, sleep.

Today Mr. Atkinson had no one at home, the whole house was at my sole disposal. But he didn't throw a party - hehe, but fell to sleep. On defense, Slughorn, although he did not find fault and did not ask tricky questions, but because of the difficult first day he kept in suspense. I just could not believe in an easy surrender. Latently, I expected some dirty trick from him. I was even surprised after a couple of simple questions strictly on the topic of brewing a mana potion, after which the commission calmly assigned the desired title.

Snape tried to show that he didn't give a damn, got it, and okay. But "lyba" stretched his mouth into an unusual expression on his face, no occlumency helped the gloomy potion maker.

After a good night's sleep, the next day I went to visit Murphy. Yes, out of habit I left very early. I decided not to use magical methods of movement. First I drove to London, where I switched to another train, to the suburbs.

In spite of the fact that I had left a lot in advance, I managed to get into the tunic by the indicated time. I got lost a little while looking for the right address.

They greeted me warmly. Megan introduced me as a school friend, but her parents understood in their own way. They thought I was Megan's boyfriend. It became clear from the smiles of Diana, Megan's mother, and the searching look of her father, Stephen. After getting to know each other, I was invited into the living room at the table, and questions began.

This was not a feast. It was not a festive dinner or dinner at all, as one might have hoped. Sluggish tea drinking in the English tradition - eat tea and pretend that it is very tasty.

"Megan tells us almost nothing about school," Diana, nee Goodwell, began the conversation. - We would be interested to see something magical, but she says - it is impossible.

"Not really," I said, which was what Murphy's parents already knew. - The statute prohibits minors from casting spells on vacation. A surveillance charm is established near or on the house itself. The enchantment of supervision is also cast on the magic wand.

- And nothing can be done? - Diana looked pleadingly at me.

Then, after explaining the peculiarities of controlling underage wizards, I nevertheless conjured for show, depicting different light effects, butterflies, flowers, confetti and sparks. Meghan also showed a bit of charm and transfiguration. I had to answer the warning that came from the ministry. Conjuring under the supervision of an adult wizard was allowed, otherwise such a phenomenon as tutoring would have been banned, because not every training takes place in the format of apprenticeship through a contract or an oath.

As soon as I began to explain the subtleties of supervision, I penetrated into the mind of the elder Murphy, carefully searching for the necessary moments in my memory. There was no need to push Diana to the necessary memories, she remembered Sirius quite well, and my appearance was almost identical, so my very sight pushed her thoughts in the right direction. At first she even thought that I was "the same guy" with whom she cheated on Stephen, they were not husband and wife at that time, but then, looking into my face, she found slight differences. Posture is slightly different. The voice and manner of speaking are quite different. The look and demeanor are also different. Looking closely, she calmed down, realizing that I was not "the same guy", laughed inwardly at her incredible assumption. She did not know the surname of Sirius, therefore my surname, Black - as Megan introduced me, did not say anything to Diana.

During the conversation, I tried to be friendly, but apparently something about me strongly disliked Steve. What exactly - I could not understand. There were no clear associations in Steve's mind that could cause dislike. He just didn't like me, for no reason.

Megan's mother tried several times to divert the conversation towards personal relationships, but she did it from afar, so it was not difficult for me to dodge the proposed topic.

Tea drinking with all the inquiries and the demonstration of magic took a little over an hour. Having found out everything that was needed, I was getting ready to leave. After a short goodbye, referring to being busy, he apologized to Murphy's parents - I'm in a hurry, very busy, - asked Megan to accompany me. Having fished my sister out of the house, I was silent for a while, slowly reporting on the results of mental probing.

- Well! Did you find out anything? - Megan started asking questions without preamble. Apparently she has a lot in common with her mother, and not just external similarities.

Diana was a bright woman, beautiful. Bright red, almost red hair, possibly dyed, green eyes, a well-proportioned face without defects, clean skin without flaws, a perfectly built figure - all this gave her the right to be called a beauty. Megan took a lot from her mother - the shape of the nose, the spread of the eyebrows, the shape of the cut of the eyes, the ears - it was like Diana's, but her gray eyes and dark hair are from Sirius. Megan's lips were also Black, one could notice the resemblance to Walburga or Bellatrix.

- Yes, - having answered briefly, he began to pause, trying to collect his thoughts and wondering where to start better?

Certainly, Sirius has good taste, he did not exchange for the plain. Even omitting some similarities between Diana and Lily Potter and not remembering the saying about red-haired girls, well, the one about the rusty attic and wet basement, the women of Sirius, even for one night, were all beautiful.

- So what? - my sister could not stand my silence.

- Wait, - I reined in the girl, - let me think, collect my thoughts.

So they shouldn't say about Sirius that he won't miss a single skirt. He always chose bright, beautiful women like Diana Goodwell and Iris Blair.

Diana was well aware that Megan was not at all like Steve, neither in facial features, nor in hair or eye color, so she always said that she looked like a great-grandmother. Since there were no photographs of Diana's grandmother, Stephen could not verify this version, it was possible to lie recklessly.

- It was revenge, - finally decided where to start.

- Revenge? Megan was puzzled.

- Yes, - nodded his head, - female revenge.

We walked along a street where people walked and cars drove. Each person has his own thoughts, troubles, joys. Everyone has their own world inside. After walking a little more, I began to talk about the results in more detail.

"Your parents weren't married then. Steve went out a little with fellow workmates and returned home much later and, as they say, tipsy. Some of the "friends", as a joke, or out of envy, threw him women's things. Your mother was offended at the delay of her future husband, they had already decided everything about the wedding. When she found women's panties in her boyfriend's inner coat pocket, she was seized with anger. She was able to suppress anger easily. She didn't make a scandal. After all, a scandal can lead to a break in relations, and she loved Steve and did not want such a result.

Realizing that Stephen had thus arranged a bachelor party for himself, Diana decided to take revenge in a quiet way - to arrange a bachelorette party for herself. After telling Steve that she had gone to visit relatives, she picked up the first guy she liked on the very first evening and slept with him. Then your parents, mom and dad-Steve got married and lived happily ever after. That's all - I finished the short story in a joking manner.

- So I'm the result of revenge? - without any emotional color asked Megan to nowhere.

"Don't be upset, sister," I smiled encouragingly. - Few could refuse our common father. With women, everything always came out very easily and simply with him, downright animal attractiveness, coupled with a thoroughbred appearance and an aristocratic touch of elegance, gave incredible success with the opposite sex. Your mother couldn't resist.

Rather silly attempts to cheer Meghan up were successful. She smiled as she listened to the clumsy praises of Sirius's merits. The situation created a moment of unity between me and Megan, of community, the center of which was our common father. We are brother and sister together.

"I only feel sorry for Stephen," Megan complained about the situation. - He loves me like a dear.

"Let everything remain as it is for Stephen," I said firmly. - Until he knows, then he has nothing to worry about.

After parting with my sister, I boarded the train, heading back. I thought: how terrible a woman's revenge can be, blind, senseless, merciless. Stephen Murphy, in fact, did not even cheat on Diana, but revenge overtook him. Now he is raising someone else's child all his life. This situation made me scared.

But, be that as it may, just for me Megan is a blood relative. I will help her as much as I can. Don't think that my patronage is worthless. I found out, they say, a patron. Himself does not represent anything. Wet behind the ears. Rod Black is two people.

Rod Black extinct? I can argue to this that now many purebred clans have two or three people. Our family does not differ much from other purebreds. Small in number - yes, but famous, even famous. Doesn't he represent anything himself? Again, I object: I have my own house with a magical source and not the smallest bank account. Too young? This in itself is not a disadvantage. I already have a second mastery in magical disciplines. It means something.

And to those who will reproach me that I cannot protect Megan from the resurrected Voldemort, or if Dumbledore suddenly begins to weave her into his plans, there will be nothing to oppose to that, then I will answer: Voldemort and Dumbledore will not be crossed by any of the current local wizards ... Yes, and I will soon have a place to hide or someone to hide from prying eyes. As I put fidelius on the "vampire house", then the hell will find me.

In general, you don't need to measure the situation according to Voldemort. When this monster rises from the dead, even his allies will stop sleeping peacefully. The same Malfoy, with all his money and influence, will stutter and turn pale, standing in front of the owner. In such a situation, nothing but the strength of the "piano" plays. You can assume that my patronage is no worse than any other.

Besides, my patronage is enough for Hogwarts. No one will be able to try to bypass me into vassalage or under a slave oath. If necessary, you can leave Murphy from school legally, as a personal vassal. When expelled from school, if that happens, she will not be deprived of magic. All this is not so much, but not so little either.

At a higher level, my patronage also means something. If Murphy is in trouble with the ministry, I'll open Sirius's eyes. Yes, I would not want to ask him for help, but Megan is his blood daughter, so he would not consider himself obligated to Sirius. Dumbledore in such situations would be even less desirable.

The vacation is over. The students returned to school. The lessons began. A couple of times, to satisfy interest, I went to Moody Crouch's class. I looked at his shocking teaching style. It is difficult to say how much his manners and methods corresponded to the original Moody, but no one asked questions about this - they probably did. Regularly attended Flitwick's lessons where he helped him conduct classes. I attended extra classes with Snape, just for the extra practice.

The time for the second trial was approaching. Henriette advised to open the golden egg under water, otherwise she did not know what to do with this squealing thing. Then the girl was able to hear the message from the egg. She understood why Krum decided to swim in the cold water of the Black Lake.

Prior to the second trial, I was able to find a suitable site to conduct research on the effects of vampire blood on my own. I was looking for a suitable Muggle university, with the right equipment and the ability to easily enter. The research itself did not take long.

Having visited the university laboratory under disillumination and maglo-repellent charms, he determined: Vampire blood, being in the composition of the potion of someone else's memory, loses its activity. The effects of a vampire blood potion are no different from any other potion. Conclusion: Contagion, unlike exposure to pure vampire blood, does not occur. You can use such a potion.

The last big thing that I had time to solve before the second test was to choose one of the empty auditoriums to implement my plan with Potter. He began to establish protection in that class, to think over the sequence of actions. How would it be more convenient to steal it when everything is ready.

The time for the second test has come.