Chapter 88.1 Headmaster (Part 2)

— Thank you. — I replied dryly without letting go of the child's toy. — I hope there are no changes to the contract I signed? — I looked into the principal's eyes.

Why am I not afraid to look him in the eye? It's because the Japanese, I mean gifted Japanese people, have a national trait called "Spiritual Fortitude," which means we are born with a strong defense of the mind. Besides, as I found out in France, the sister's gift was without any — subversion.

I don't know how she found out about my future in France, but her gift, is absolute protection of the mind from the magic of illusion, legilimensions, seriously weakened directed illusions, as well as from any diseases, like madness. Not bad, huh? And her joke was that the Veils were having trouble finding a mate, and I was the perfect candidate, since my children would be able to easily control their mental gift in common with the Veil.

All the details are unknown to the Veils, of course, but my immunity is every Veila's chance at a normal family, something they are naturally eager for. So blink, don't blink your electro-glasses, but it doesn't work on me.

— Personally, I don't think it's a wise decision to live in separate quarters, — the principal gave me a stern, judgmental look. — So I recommend that you drop this requirement. The English tradition of boarding schools has a long history of effectiveness.

— I will not rescind this policy. — I reply calmly. — Japanese people value personal space, and we need it for peace of mind and normal rest, just as we need a normal bath.

— Well, — the man said in a not too satisfied voice, lowering his eyes to the papers. — That's your right, especially since you paid for it. But I would ask you not to ignore the common living room of the faculty you're entering. Socializing with your classmates is an important part of school life. — I nodded in agreement, and why should I ignore people? — In that case, you must sign the standard Hogwarts contract.

With the last words I was handed a sheet of parchment with beautiful patterns, monograms and a large school crest in the bottom center, between the lines for signatures. As I read the contract, I didn't understand: why was this necessary? Tradition, perhaps? But even through the gloves, I felt some magic in that parchment.

There was nothing special or frightening in the text, but I was in no hurry to sign it; premonitions are important. I took my official wand from my inside pocket (crystal, spare in a holster on my forearm) and cast a strong "Finite", really strong. No effect. And Dumbledore watches silently, with some strange interest, though his eyes have somehow... darkened or something?

Hmmm... What if we use a direct demand with an infusion of magic? No, I can't, what if it counts as a signature? I won't risk it. I hide my wand (the director's eyes "light up") and take out a strip of paper — a talisman. I pour extra magic into the "recorder" and hide it in my pocket, freeing my hand. The talisman is squeezed between my palms for a few seconds, then I place it on the parchment and press the palm of my hand on top. Activation.

The blue wave of magic visible to normal sight spreads across the table and another meter around it. The disguise of the gloves fell away, revealing them. Like the pile of books on the Headmaster's desk, the crystal ball, some kind of metal vase, and a small wooden box. But most importantly, I saw the full text.

I picked up the parchment, just in case. In place of the school's large crest, which had become a pale background, there was an additional text that I immediately picked up without paying attention to the headmaster.

In short, and without any verbose and abstruse wording, I am offered to officially recognize the guardianship of the current headmaster until my seventeenth birthday, to transfer all official rights to manage my property, to determine my development as a wizard, as well as the right to sign ANY official documents....

Frankly, I was stunned and looked at the headmaster with narrowed eyes. Somewhere inside, a fire was brewing, and it overflowed my body with a thirst for action.

— Explain yourself. — I won't even think about handing over this contract without letting go.

— You see, Mr. Hoshino, — the headmaster sighed heavily, speaking in the voice of an enlightened mentor with great wisdom. — You have no adult guardian to protect you from various circumstances. This is standard procedure for orphans and Muggle-born wizards. The Headmaster will take responsibility for the child and ensure that he or she is properly protected until adulthood.

— I understand. — I nod dryly, folding the parchment and tucking it into the inside pocket of my suit. — I will check your words. Good day, Mr. Dumbledore. — I'm leaving.

I've already signed a contract, nobody told me anything else. If I'd stayed, I might have been rude. Not yet.