Chapter 16. Luck and Magic.

I needed money, big money. They were needed not specifically now, but in general. To get them, I decided to use one of the ways of getting hit, suitable not only for the world of Harry Potter, namely-to win in the casino. It seems that there was something similar in some fanfiction. The main character in that fik won a large sum in Las Vegas, or was it in New York? And was there any fan fiction about Harry Potter?

Goblins are required to sign a magic contract when making a bet, which includes an oath that the disputant did not use a potion of luck, a chronovorot or other magical way to accurately find out the result of the dispute or ensure victory. In addition, the oath provides for many non-magical ways of cheating. In Muggle establishments, things are much easier, as I thought.

To guarantee a win, I decided to use a potion of luck. The finished product costs a thousand galleons per serving, which I couldn't afford. The ingredients came out at a cost of two hundred to two hundred and fifteen galleons, taking into account the price fluctuations. In addition, these ingredients made two portions of the potion at once. I had enough money almost end-to-end and still had a little left for the first bet.

There were other risks, even apart from the fact that I made the luck potion myself, and not the master potion maker.

A wizard who drank the wrong luck potion was infected with pathological bad luck for up to twelve hours. The time at twelve o'clock was determined by calculations based on the time of action of a normal potion, a full portion of which acts exactly this time.

There was also a big question on the agenda: How will I play in the casino? Children are not allowed in the casino. Right? And I am outwardly and physically just like that. I saw two ways out of the situation: an aging potion or a reverse one.

The polyjuice potion is quite expensive in ingredients, which was not in his favor. Obviously, it wasn't as expensive as the luck potion, but still, I didn't have that much money left. Besides, I didn't know how one potion would fit on another. About the compatibility of various potions write the work of candidates for the apprentice potion makers. Usually, such work considers the compatibility of two potions, three potions of different directions are not even swung by the masters. There are too many different nuances, ranging from the quality of the original ingredients and the quality of the potions themselves, to the order of their use and the time between use. There are too many side effects and their layers on top of each other.

Despite the relative high cost of the polyjuice potion, I was inclined to use it. In addition to the adult appearance, I also received some disguise, because I could be recognized as an adult or confused with my father, which would still lead to my trail. If the teachers at Hogwarts saw the resemblance to me as a little boy, then I would probably be identified as Black as an adult. Not everyone will recognize it, but according to the law of meanness, there will be such a witness.

That's how I discovered the primary direction for studying at the moment — potion making. I didn't have a laboratory for experiments, so I had to do calculations and raise and shake up the memory of my ancestors. Specifically on this topic, no information was found in the memory of the ancestors. Well, yes, not exactly a typical combination of potions. In the memory of my ancestors, I found a combination of a potion of good luck with a restorative, boneset, hematopoietic, universal antidote and sedative. The same compatibility set was for the polyjuice potion. All common medical potions were made with a high degree of compatibility between themselves and other potions.

It is good that the fine art of potion-making to some extent succumbed to scientific methods of forecasting, there were tables of compatibility of ingredients, dependencies of effects to enhance any effects or neutralize when mixed. But, I could not make a clear picture of the available data purely from the calculation. For confirmation, tests and the accumulation of statistical data were needed. I couldn't afford that luxury, but I was hoping for a trick.

The hope was for the special effect of the luck potion. With a properly brewed Felix Felicis, I wouldn't be able to drink the polyjuice potion if it was a serious health hazard, so I reasoned. I did the calculations anyway, checked everything for compatibility and possible side effects. Everything should work fine, the effects will pass normally without distortions and overlays, they will act separately from each other, there may be a slight increase or decrease in the effects that affect the duration of the action, but not the quality of the effect or its essence.

I had to borrow money from Cortez to buy the ingredients for the polyjuice potion. He gave me the money almost without talking, but instead of returning the loan, he asked me to share the result if everything worked out as it should. For me, this option was even more preferable than a refund in cash. I didn't ask why Cortez needed the polyjuice potion, nor did Cortez ask me the same question.

Crossing the border with Monaco was another subtle point in my plan. If you are a Frenchman or an Englishman, or from another country that is part of the Schengen area, then there is nothing complicated in this, but there is a nuance — there must be documents. I had to put on various Muggle-repellent spells and copy spells. I will need all this to pass through passport control at the border normally.

The polyjuice potion here will help to cover your tracks even further. It will be possible to use the documents of the Muggle whose material I use in the polyjuice potion.

The other problem was the wand. Control enchantments will not allow me to freely use even a simple confundus, so I need at least one-time enchanted items of a similar action, which will not have control enchantments. Fortunately, what is the enchantment I knew Charit rags in Sarbacane could absolutely freely, without restrictions.

I used a handful of centimes to enchant him. The coin is small, if I lose it, it will not be a pity. The spell is triggered when it enters the area of someone else's aura, that is, when it comes into contact with another person or when it is very close — as an opportunity, if it leaves the area of my own aura.

In magical France, Muggle money was quite common. Unlike in Britain, where pounds were virtually non-existent in the wizarding world, in France, francs were as normal a currency as galleons. The French Ministry of Magic's treaties with Gringotts were different from those of the British. In general, there was no such rigid division of the monetary system into Muggle and magical in other countries, which strongly distinguished the British from the general background.

Two standard Felix Felicis servings were ready on time. There was a time when the potion maker, to confirm the quality of the product, used one serving per person. But such a check is valid if you can be sure that there is no substitution. Oaths? Oaths are not as common as they may seem. The goblins have magical contracts with oaths at every turn. Not every wizard is willing to take oaths, reveal his name, and sign guarantees. And the end user is not always ready to believe in such guarantees, apparently, there are ways to circumvent such oaths or weaken kickbacks, well, and the possibility of using a suicide bomber has not been canceled.

I was almost certain of my potion. Even though it was considered difficult to make, it was quite stable in terms of the ingredients used, and it didn't need the special supernatural flair of a master potion maker, when you need to throw three leaves of belladonna inflorescence from the quality of the ingredients, rather than two — as an example. Knowing the recipe, and following it exactly, you could be sure of the result. And the belief that this potion can only be made by a master, stemmed from the deadly danger of a spoiled potion, and the inability to determine the quality without using it. In the case of a master potion, the reputation of the entire potion society is at stake. You can be one hundred percent sure of the quality of the potion.

However, I didn't want to take a fatal risk by consuming my potion without checking it. So I came up with an alternative way to take the potion. No, no, it was impossible to inject directly into the blood, there were too many clogging impurities in it, and using it in small quantities, literally drop by drop, seemed dangerous to me. I was going to inject the potion through skin contact. If it is poisonous, then the skin should turn red, and the effect of this method of administration will weaken ... I hope.

For this method of application, I made a special bracelet on my hand, inside of which there was a cavity in which the potion was poured. Through a thin tube-capillary, the potion moistened a cotton swab, which was tightly pressed by the bracelet to the skin of the hand.

The method of checking is so-so, but at least something, and not just a full portion of the drink or a drop of zedit. The effect should not have been immediately apparent and not in full force. It was hoped that the limited effect would not be as deadly as in all other cases. According to the descriptions, the wrong potion created the effect of one, any of the main characters of the movie "Destination", as I estimated it.

As the summer came, I was fully prepared. The exams ended and all the students left for the holidays. In Sarbacane I was left almost alone.

To be or not to be?

I put the bracelet on.

After half an hour in the place of contact with the potion on the skin began to feel scabies. I decided to put up with it. After another half hour, there was a burning sensation and I took off the bracelet. But there wasn't a single mark on the skin. I decided to wear the bracelet longer, to wait for some more effect, to endure scabies and burning.

Whether the potion had worked, or whether the event should have happened by itself, Dumbledore had come to fetch me to Beauxbatons, where I was supposed to be serving my vacation term, in the dorm of my faculty. For Dumbledore, the location of the Beauxbatons was no secret, I suspect that not only the place of transition, but also the real one. I also have the ability to determine the real place, just need to use fairly accurate instruments for navigation, longitude and latitude are determined by the starry sky quite accurately. But it was enough for me to know where to go to the Beauxbatons.

After a quick chat with Madame Maxime, Dumbledore took me under his own responsibility.

"Arrakis," said Dumbledore, " I'm only in France for one day, just to pick you up. We need to get back to England right away to deal with some of your business. - After these words, it seemed to me that the director decided to introduce me as a figure in some of his muddy plans, but everything turned out to be much simpler. "It's about the orphanage you're assigned to," he explained. — They want to take you under patronage.

Well, yes, there has been an adoption program in Britain for a long time. All orphanages were to be liquidated and replaced with foster homes. So our children's home was no longer such. But the orders themselves do not change as quickly as the names, much depends on the degree of previously established order, control and funding, and not on the declared slogans and meaningless coefficients and percentages of different general and average indicators. Apparently, the funding has increased, and the program has started to work as it should. Although, it can not be said that it did not work at all before, I myself have already been adopted once. If I hadn't been a wizard, I wouldn't have had an ejection, my foster parents wouldn't have been afraid of the "hell", and I would have had a normal family. After all these events, I myself somehow influenced potential parents to refuse to adopt me. Now I was more suited to the age of patronage than adoption.

Such charity was a very profitable business. Even if it was almost impossible to pocket the money allocated for the patronage program, this is strictly monitored, the misuse of the budget is strictly punished, but the patron receives significant tax benefits, which in itself is quite a lot, especially if there is a business.

"We'll stop by Hogwarts at the same time," the headmaster smiled at me. — Have you forgotten your native school yet? I'll get your report card. Filius and I have much to be proud of.

Then there was an apparition to the French Ministry of Magic, and then from the Ministry of Magic to Britain, and so on. The sequence of portals and apparatuses made my head spin. We didn't get to the shelter until four hours later, late in the afternoon. I managed to ask the director a little about some of the subtleties of the Ministry of Magic's interaction with various Muggle structures. It turned out that the Ministry of Magic has a special department working in conjunction with the obliviators, which is responsible for various bureaucratic actions at the junction of the two worlds.

When entering Hogwarts, a child from the orphanage tried to influence the Muggles in the minimum framework, the memory of the children was not erased, because every summer such a child had to return to the orphanage, although, in my opinion, it would be easier to organize your own Hogwarts orphanage. The shelter left "coordinates", which could be used to contact the administration of Hogwarts, send a mail request. Yes, the Ministry of Magic of Britain in the Muggle world had a postal address, was listed for another organization, of course, which could be contacted, even if it was in many ways only a screen.

So, the request came from the shelter. I should have made it a point to come to my native orphanage to get my patronage. I was patronized by a Mr. Atkinson.

Dumbledore, when he left me at the orphanage, gave me some instructions that I should not have talked about the existence of the magical world, and of course this also applied to my patron, Mr. Atkinson. From what Dumbledore had said, the law of magical Britain regarding the status of secrecy of the wizarding world in relation to patronage did not have a clear interpretation. Yes, it did not apply to foster parents (the status of secrecy), the foster family was considered close relatives, foster parents are parents. But the patron-educators are no longer quite parents. The disclosure of the magical world in this case was considered by the court in each specific case separately. What kind of bullshit? Not at all! Patronage is practiced for already quite adult children, children's emissions at this age are already rare, most magical things are enchanted with distraction and inattention, which act on Muggles without failures. Therefore, for isolated cases of magic, the method of erasing memory is used, if the cartridge is an ordinary Muggle. For squib trustees or a malicious violator of the statute, there are other ways to influence or other solutions.

Dumbledore warned me that if I broke the statute once, I would not be in any serious danger, but he asked me to refrain from breaking it. He said that there is an imperfect combination of Muggle and magical laws (laws of the ministry). In the absence of an unambiguous interpretation in the laws of the Ministry of Magical Britain of the case in question, the court often turns to Muggle law as the basis for making a decision. However, Muggle law does not provide an unambiguous basis for legality and must be adopted by a court, after which case law applies. Such a right is valid until another law is adopted or a previous decision is refuted, or the application of an existing precedent is proven incorrect.

Yeah, that's about the language Dumbledore used.

My case of partial adoption was not the first. The Ministry of Magic has already gained a small but valuable experience of violating the statute of schoolchildren before the eyes of their trustees. In one such case, the trustee turned out to be a squib who already knew about the magical world and the court clearly recognized the legal right to disclose the magical world, aha-in fact, that there was no disclosure as such. In another case, a Hogwarts student was returned to the orphanage, erasing the trustee and all responsible persons the memory of the failed adoption, erasing someone, correcting someone. The papers were also corrected. The underage wizard himself was warned of punishment for using unauthorized magic.

My trustee turned out to be a full-fledged Muggle, and he didn't pay any attention to my school supplies. Nor did he pay any more attention to me than the situation required. He was cold when he spoke to me, and he acted strictly ... according to protocol.

Mr. Atkinson was a married man, not young, but still a strong man. When he met me, he didn't try to make any impression. He immediately explained that he had a grown-up son and that he had no hopes for me as an heir, nor should I hope for anything like that. A friend of his works at the orphanage, who advised me to adopt me, take custody of me, patronage, in order to receive tax benefits.

The choice fell on me because of my almost year-round stay in a boarding school. This is very convenient when you are a legal guardian, but the guardianship itself is not required, all the responsibility most of the time is borne by the school. For a couple of months a year, he was willing to be patient and provide the necessary care, especially since I'm not a little boy and can take care of myself in many ways.

Mr. Atkinson had a house of his own, which corresponded to the level of a well-to-do businessman. I was given a spacious room on the second floor, not the largest, but not the smallest. The necessary minimum of furniture, a one-and-a-half bed and a TV in the room were present. There was a bathroom nearby, which was practically my sole use. Bruce Atkinson himself spends most of his time in a rented flat in London, as does his wife, the address he gave me. Although, I warned you that my presence there is undesirable.

I received a business card from my trustee with phone numbers and addresses where I can contact him. Explanations of the rules that were set for me. And pocket money for two summer months.

The rules are simple, if I decide to bring someone home, I must first introduce this guest to Mr. Atkinson and get permission. I was forbidden to climb around the house, especially when it came to locked rooms. The refrigerator was completely at my disposal, but I had to monitor its fullness myself. However, a sufficient amount was allocated for this case every month, and it was allocated not from my allowance, but from Atkinson's funds.

Atkinson turned out to be a prim Englishman, but he made the rules reasonable and didn't go into my pocket. All the surplus funds that the state allocated for my maintenance, he promised to put in my bank account.

"This money is yours, Mr. Blair," he said, lifting his chin a little, " and no one else claims it. There was pride in every word Atkinson said. — You can stay in this house as long as you want. The administration of the educational home can issue all the necessary documents without you. You will sign your consent here in the presence of the inspector and the representative of the foundling home.

— I'd like to go to the orphanage again, "I said," because I had friends there." I would like to know their fate and possibly exchange contacts.

"No, no, Mr. Blair," Atkinson said, " I insist that you sign the papers here in this house. However, after signing the papers, I will not restrict your movement. They described you to me as a very smart, independent and decent young man. So you can visit the shelter yourself.

"Thank you for your confidence, Mr. Atkinson," I said. Bruce nodded back at me, as if approving of my behavior.

This freedom of action that Atkinson gave me was very welcome. You could do anything, as long as you didn't create problems for the trustee. Dumbledore wasn't supposed to pick me up until the end of August. All the time was mine. He still had to prepare for the planned operation.

I myself was deeply unclear why I chose the action. After all, people don't like to make decisions. Important decisions are often postponed, just for the sake of getting used to it. It seems that everything is clear and understandable and the solution is already ready, but before you put it into action, it still lies for some time, matures. Of course, this does not apply to painful decisions. There, the decision is made as a result of necessity, when it is already "not up to fat". I didn't have any financial problems yet, but after assessing my situation soberly, I concluded that I wouldn't be ready for anything at the time of Voldemort's rebirth. I won't have super magic, at best I'll be equal to a strong wizard. I will not have my own team of companions, at best a couple of friends. I don't have millions of galleons in my account at Gringotts, and I can't count on the Black inheritance.

The Legacy Of Black… That's another thing.

Most of the Black property was stolen by various "relatives". They took everything they could reach. Some even managed to prove some debts and demand their repayment through Gringotts ' accounts. However, such repayment was possible only from the amount of income from different enterprises, but not from the main accounts, which have a physical embodiment in the form of specific repositories. And since the enterprises were either beyond the possibility of the influence of creditors, or were appropriated by other persons, the repayment of debts went in scanty parts.

No one gave me access to the financial records, legally under the laws of the ministry I had nothing to do with the Blacks, under the laws of magic that were valid for goblins who worked under the old contracts, I also had no rights. But it was possible to guess that there were various machinations. Of course, if there is an heir, he will be able to fight off all these sudden "debts". It may even be able to get compensation if it proves fraud or misappropriation, although it is unlikely to succeed.

So, going back to making a decision, I was no different from the majority. I was driven by fear. I was afraid of not having time to become a strong magician, not having time to gather supporters, not having time to save money. All this will become necessary to me in one moment, which I felt almost physically. Moreover, I could see that I was no longer in time. Perhaps it was a purely psychological effect, but in a world where magic exists, you can't dismiss other possibilities.

My idea with the bracelet turned out to be partially successful. When the unpleasant sensations became unbearable, and I almost decided to abandon the use of the spoiled potion, and the plan in general. I thought the damned bracelet had burned my arm to the bone, but when I took it off, I didn't see even a little redness. The burning sensation disappeared after a couple of hours.

After thinking about it, I decided that the burning sensation is not the sensations of the physical body, but lies in the field of magic and all these, cores, magokanals and other things. The luck potion itself was considered mildly toxic, although in the descriptions of the action I did not find any typical symptoms of poisoning, except for a slight euphoria.

The tests were decided to continue, and I put the bracelet back on, but this time on the other hand. I decided to change the place of wearing, so as not to cause any irreparable magical disorders in the body.

I do not think that the luck of wearing a bracelet with a potion played a role, but I definitely do not deny its role.

A few days later I received a letter from the Headmaster asking me to be at the British Ministry of Magic at one o'clock on the thirteenth of August.

Before that date, I visited my orphanage again and found out about the fate of Stacey and the other kids. Yes, yes, the adoption program probably started working as it should, it turned out that most of the guys I knew were already adopted or under patronage. No one gave me the address, it is forbidden by law. Anyway, I am an outsider who does not have the right to receive such confidential information. I went almost idle. But it's nothing, then I'll find someone I need, pull them up to me, if I'm afloat myself.

At one o'clock on the thirteenth of August, Dumbledore was not at the appointed place in the Ministry of Magic. I was met by Professor Flitwick, my dean at Hogwarts.

"Monsieur Blair —" the half — goblin greeted me, " I am very pleased to see you.

"Professor?" Headmaster Dumbledore has arranged for me to meet here.

"He had urgent business," Flitwick said — " so he asked me to meet you and escort you to France."

"Oh, I see…

— We still have a little time to talk, the portal is scheduled for you at two o'clock. I would be very interested to know how you are studying there, what new things you have learned, whether you have decided to stay in Charmbaton? I wouldn't want to lose a smart student like you.

— I was offered to stay at Charmbaton, "I said, making no secret of Madame Maxime's offer," but I decided to finish my studies at Hogwarts first. Madame Maxime said I could come in SABATON and after Hogwarts.

- Yes? Flitwick asked, a little surprised. "Actually, that's a very unusual suggestion. Usually SABATON no one receives after graduating from another school. You probably managed to impress the headmistress. Or maybe she wants to lure a potential Black heir to France.

"Professor," I decided to change the subject to something more interesting, " I'd like to know something about the half-breeds.

— I take it you wanted to ask about half-caste wizards with other races?"

- Well, who else to ask, if not a half-goblin? Flitwick smiled.

— I didn't mean to say anything like that, much less offend- " I began, but was interrupted almost in mid — sentence by my dean.

— No need for excuses, Mr. Blair, I'm not offended. Moreover, the topic is quite interesting and very ambiguous.

— There are many half-breeds or wizards with manifest blood, the heritage of magical races. Take me, for example. I am a half-goblin, but the Ministry of Magic has allowed me to have a wand and has granted me equal rights with wizards. Let's take another example — half-veils, you probably know about them, in France it is rare, but quite normal and common. Fleur Delacour is now studying in Sarbacane. You saw her, didn't you? — urged on me by the Dean. I thought I was as red as a boiled crab. "In France, half-veils are equal in rights to wizards, but in the laws of the British Ministry they are not equal. Why? Flitwick asked. — I won't answer that question directly, but I'll give you a few hints. Here, take a look!

We were right next to a famous sculpture where magicians worshiped a couple of wizards.

— What's wrong with this sculpture?" The half-goblin asked.

"Uh, the goblin's expression?" I suggested.

"Ha, ha, ha," said Flitwick, a little amused, " no, no, except that.

- I don't know.

"All right," said Filius, " I'll tell you almost directly. In the center of the composition were not supposed to be adult wizards, but children. But the idea of the author of the sculpture was changed, distorted.

— Is that the first clue?

And here's a second clue: Goblins are actually a semi-magical race, not a magical one. Goblins don't have a bright racial ability. Goblins have only a few racial magical traits, while giants have increased resistance to direct magical attacks.

— And the third clue?"

"Two will be enough for you —" the half-goblin smiled. "Let's go to the portal room, you'll be leaving soon."

A minute before departure, I was handed a portal item and activated before the timer would have done everything by itself. I found myself in the proper place at the French Ministry of Magic. I was immediately asked to leave the portal site.

No one met me.

Is it possible that Dumbledore forgot to warn Madame Maxime to meet me? For about an hour I hung around, waiting for someone to meet me, until one of the employees became interested in an incomprehensible school-age boy.

"Hey, boy —" the Frenchman said, " are you expecting someone?"

"Here's the thing, monsieur —" I began, " I'm a student at Charmbaton, and I thought someone would meet me from the academy.

— I do not understand, ' said the Frenchman, — what you need to meet? You don't know how to get to Sambacana or are you something special?

"Actually, I know how to get to the academy, and I don't think I'm anything special," I said politely.

— Then don't wait for anyone!" The Frenchman smiled and waved me out of the room.

While hanging around the Ministry of Magic in France, I managed to think about the problem from the half-goblin. It turned out that the children of wizards were somehow special, even more special than adult wizards. Flitwick was recognized as a wizard because of this unknown trait and because the goblins themselves do not have their own bright racial ability that would strictly define them as goblins. Vail has that ability — Vail's well-known charm. I already know that if a half-Vail, or a quarter of a Vail, or some other Vail, gives birth to a boy, then her magik blood will be recognized as fading. From now on, she will have equal rights with the mages. The answer is in the fading blood of the magicians? But Hagrid was also recognized as a wizard, even though he did not finish his studies. It doesn't have any obvious magical ability, but it does have some properties like magicians do. No, I approached the problem from the wrong side.

We'll go in from the other side. Children of wizards, how do they differ from others? Hmm ... children are like children, only sometimes magical outbursts happen. Here it is!

Could it be that magicians like the Veela do not have magical outbursts? We'll have to find out somehow.