Chapter 8

The days and weeks flew on as usual: school, training, the library, evening practice in mental magic, jogging around the playground. In between, I had time to chat and make some plans, many of which I had to write down for the future. I am also beginning to feel my own memory getting better, allowing me to remember information just by looking at the text. Obviously, this is because of practice in mental magic.

This weekend I remember another aspect I had forgotten about earlier - sorting memories. I tell Tom "my idea," and he admits it's worth a try. Which we did both days, pausing only for meals. But it paid off. I was able to assemble in my head an image of a certain office, which was very similar to my own, from a previous life. In the office I planned storage boxes for memories, a table where I would put the most important things that I needed to get out of memory instantly, and a laptop, into which I decided to record information on magic.

"Office" is still extremely basic, not much filled and not sure if it is properly constructed, because I have to navigate based on the knowledge of the past life, remembering the works of the few enthusiasts who do such things and the origin of the magic world itself.

Riddle tried to keep up. My ideas kept burning his interest. Before, he hadn't even thought about such things, concentrating more on the life in the orphanage. Now I gradually telling him all sorts of interesting things, broadening his horizons. I gave him information of the twenty-first century as my own thoughts and innovative ideas. And so the days went by, one after another.

I woke up from the routine when I noticed the snow coming. Just then I managed to tear myself away from the notebook with my notes. Until I learn Occlumency one hundred percent, and correctly, according to the books of magic, made myself a perfect memory, I will persistently keep notes.

The snow was falling in thick flakes, quickly covering the entire area of Wool's orphanage. Tom sat down next to me, looking in the window:

"Have you never seen snow before?" He looked at me a little confused, and I shook my head when I came to my senses.

"Just got an idea," a sly grin crept onto my face. "Look" I pointed to Mrs. Petters, who was shouting something to the cleaner. The crowd of boys was swirling around, all dressed up for winter and ready to go out and play snowballs and make snowmen.

" What is there to see?" Tom looked around the courtyard perplexed, seeing nothing of interest.

I scooped the magic from the source, as usual, making it easier and easier each time. Then, like a glove, I scoop up the snow outside the window, rolling a large snowball. Riddle notices my manipulation and starts grinning, anticipating the fun.

After rolling a large snowball, I launch it at Mrs. Petters, from the side of the playing boys. By this time, she had finally gotten the cleaner down, and he spat in frustration and went to get a shovel to clean up the neighborhood.

As Mrs. Petters turned around, trying to find a new target for her shitty tongue, she took a heavy blow to the face. The snowball shattered on her forehead, causing the woman to literally tumble through the air, falling onto her back.

"Phew-ha-ha!" Riddle collapses onto the bed, not even trying to contain his laughter," you saw it! How did she...!" he rises, looking out the window again. At that moment, Mrs. Petters tries to get up from the snow-covered ground, spitting up desperately. Even here, her screams and yelling could be heard. However, she was not able to get up, again a light fence of magic and her foot sliding on the snowy ground.

" Aha-ha-ha! You're a monster, Wolf," Tom had no doubt at all that I had something to do with the new roll, "Wait, stop, don't do that again, or I'll die," he rolled to the floor, continuing to gurgle, choking back laughter. How little does a child need to be happy?

I can't help laughing myself.

For dinner, the orphanage residents were pleased by Mrs. Petters' blue and purple face, but everyone tried to hold back laughter as the boys playing nearby received a stiff whipping. Mrs. Petters was sure one of them had launched the snowball and the others were covering for him. Mrs. Cole fully approved of her methods of discipline, but it didn't come to the lockup. There were too many suspects. So now the angry woman was cowering her puffy eye, trying to find a single smile.

Quickly eating the overcooked slimy pasta, which was of course without meat, I grabbed Tom, who grunted every time, holding back a laugh as his eye clung to Mrs. Petters. Before he was noticed and punished, I dragged him into the room. We have to do something about the food. I feel like a canonical Harry Potter sitting on porridge. Sometimes I feel like magic is the only thing that keeps me strong, otherwise where would I get the energy for all that training, running, and mentalism? I even thought about doing morning calisthenics, but after thinking it over, I decided I shouldn't.

It would be impossible to build up some muscles without proper food. There's nothing else I can do to lose weight. Unless I have flexibility in my ligaments... well, I think I'll figure that out when I start learning to be a healer. So no more gymnastics.

Just as soon as we get Riddle to his room, we pile into it, and he starts laughing. I hope they can't hear him in the dining room, because the soundproofing in here is terrible.

After waiting for him to calm down, I start brainstorm.

"So, Mr. Riddle, we are faced with the question of provisions," I start pacing the room, from corner to corner, with my back perfectly straight and my arms crossed behind it, "I need to hear your suggestions on this matter. "

"Hmm," he also stands up and stretches out, straightening his uniform, "no ideas, Mr. Weyber! Our only plan, for the expropriation of flour products - you have personally forbidden to repeat," he presses his straightened arms to his sides, taking as serious look as possible.

"Then I propose we get Shaisa roast, Mr. Riddle. You can find a new pet," I pinted pointed defiantly at the coiled viper sleeping on Tom's pillow.

"That's not an option, Mr. Weyber," Riddle continued to play the statue, though the corners of his lips twitched in a restrained smile.

"Then," I decided to stop the pantomime by grabbing a creaking, wooden chair, turning it back to the front, and sitting down on it, laying my head on it, "why don't we look for a store or a grocery warehouse? At night we can get out of here through the window, open the door of the warehouse with magic, pull out some canned stew or something," I feel my saliva flowing. I didn't think, in a previous life, that I would dream about canned meat.

"Magic?" Tom stopped fooling around, too, picking out what was important to him from my speech. - "We avoided naming our powers until now, talking about them in the abstract: power, energy, that sort of thing."

" I don't know," I lie to him frankly, but I'm not going to tell him my secrets yet, "it's too variable," I shrugged, "it can do anything: heal, curse, hit and cut, get inside someone else's head, and create new worlds in your own... what else could it be?"

"I had a different idea of magic," he shakes his head, "something like fireballs or turning into toads."

Oh, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised when you get to Hogwarts and find that you can do all that, too.

" What did you think of our possibilities?" I decide to ask who Riddle sees us now. In the future, it's an endless opportunity to make fun of the Dark Lord! Like when he was a kid, he thought he was a psychic, a mutant, or an alien from outer space.

"Father Ricardo said it come from the devil," he gently took Shaisa in his arms and began petting her, the snake hissing happily. I've learned to tell her moods, thanks to Tom, of course," I... tried not to think about it too much. And besides, I remember what you said about his sermons being just brainwashing, but... when you don't understand anything... you want to believe it."

Or maybe I won't tease. Eh and why didn't he think magic was some kind of "Earth Force" or help from "aliens from Lambda-Delta"?

"Father Ricardo is an old asshole who gets drunk at the bar at night and stares at little girls," I stand up decisively and clap Tom on the shoulder, "forget about him. We have more options than the average person, so we need to take advantage of that."

"I agree," he smiles, "then what's the plan, my general?"

We spent the next week looking for a suitable place. The stores were quickly dismissed. Too crowded, too many passers-by, and often patrolled by constables at night. Warehouses were another matter.

The warehouse zones were far enough away from our poor neighborhood. Fortunately, Legilimecy was helping here. Roughly, but we were getting the hang of reading each other's thoughts. As I'd expected, ordinary people have no natural magic block against mental magic, so reading them was easier.

After searching the minds of the shopkeepers, we were able to minimize the range of the search, until finally we stumbled upon a suitable option. At night we set out on the case, having previously borrowed a cart from the janitor.

The warehouse was guarded by several large and angry dogs, but they were dealt with successfully by Tom. I hadn't forgotten his boast when we first met in the basement that the animals obeyed him. It didn't just apply to snakes. The dogs tucked their tails and ran off in the opposite direction.

Opening the door was easy. It only took us a couple of days to practice this skill at the shelter, and then Tom found an old barn lock. Then the progress went even faster.

The warehouse was big. And we were exhausted. After all, we had to walk about five kilometers! With a cart! If it wasn't for magic, we wouldn't have made it, we're too small and skinny. But that's all right... We made it.

Though it's well past midnight. We don't have a watch, of course, and without one, we can only guess. But there's still time before sunrise.

There were a lot of boxes and crates in the warehouse, so it was a struggle before we found what we needed.

"Beef stew, mmm!" I want to grab a whole crate, but I realize that even two of us can't carry this, even using magic. Just not enough strength.

"Come on, hurry up," Riddle stood near the exit, keeping an eye on the street. What if someone was looking into the warehouse at night? Or is there a watchman wandering around somewhere nearby?

" Come here and help," Riddle fidgeted, not knowing whether to load the cart faster or watch the entrance, "leave the snake guarding and come here!" I have no patience for it, either; it was not easy for me to hold the old-fashioned cart and load it at the same time, especially for my childish body.

"She'll freeze," he murmurs, pulling Shaisa from behind his groin, quickly whispering an explanation to her and running up to me.

"She won't, we'll be done in about ten minutes. Here you go."

Of course we did not carry the box, but filled the cart full of not only canned meat, but also cans of beans, corn, fish, and some mix vegetables. Toward the end, greed fought against common sense, until we tried to move the cart. After that, it became clear that we had to stop loading it and get out of here to try to make it before sunrise.

" Oh, it's heavy!" Riddle grunts, straining his arms. We used magic to lighten it. Without it, pushing the cart would be impossible. I hope the wheel doesn't fall off. Damn, why did I think of the roads in our part of town?! There are such holes and ravines...

Two of us dragged, pausing every few minutes to rest. The load was dragged to the cellar, but not the one where I had set up a training ground, but the second, abandoned and smelly one. The food was in cans, though, so the smell shouldn't affect the food itself. Along the way, I seriously feared that someone might notice us or decide to check out where Tom and I ran almost every day.

From time to time we heard voices and footsteps. The night city of the '30s is no match for the modern city. It's quiet. No cars, few people, even less light. No bright neon signs, glowing streetlights or windows. It was also cold. We were already freezing, and the journey had only just begun.

"We need to find someplace more private," I whispered to him, saving my breath, "It's scary to leave a load like that where anyone could walk in at any moment."

"Yeah," Riddle didn't say much, more like trying to catch his breath, "we'll look tomorrow."

At the approach to the poorer districts, the road deteriorated completely. Some of the cargo, despite all, had to be thrown away. The only thing we did was to bury it under the ground, hoping to come back for it tomorrow and pick it up. We were all soaked, and I think I tore a nail off my hand. But my fingers can't feel well, so I'll be in my room working on the wound. I'm going to heal up there, too.

"I... can't... I can't go on," Tom falls on his ass, leaning against the cart. "Let's hide her, too, huh? Wolf?"

"We can't... " ...gather my strength, unclenching my hands. They're trembling. From the cold or exhaustion? "Tomorrow Mr. Hunt will notice there's no cart. He'll tell Mrs Cole about it. They'll be looking for it."

" Well, they won't find it... " - he coughed, "and then we'll bring it in... "

I look at him in silence, and Tom sighs.

"Oh, I know we mustn't get into that kind of trouble, I know... " he rises to his feet, grunting like an old grandfather, and we go on our way. The road of bloody adventure.

When we got to the basement, we just fell on the spot, despite the stink and dirt. There was no energy. Breathing like hunted horses. I felt like I was falling asleep, so I strained my will and started to get up. Tom, seeing me, got up, as well. I had to unload the cart and take it back. And the sun was already beginning to rise.

Just don't get sick," I pleaded with my body as we finally hid the equipment and climbed back into the room, through the window. Magic... Probably shouldn't, but I've spent a lot of energy on supplies. Tom can't do it alone. And the food needs to be moved, I thought, letting the rest of the magic run through my body. And we have to go back for the buried food, in case we're lucky and it's not taken.

And the fingernail was really torn, but I have a talent for healing, so I put a lot of power there, wishing mentally to regenerate, I did a cleaning of my body and clothes on the remaining power, and then I fell on the bed and instantly passed out.