Chapter 18

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- Lord, I'll ride with you," Blade said. - I'm responsible for your safety.

- And your car, sir?

- 'Colleagues will pick it up and escort us.

- Let's go.

Richard sat in the back seat next to the unconscious houseboy. Alex got in the front passenger seat.

As soon as the Bentley pulled out of the farmyard, a black Range Rover pulled up in front and Blade's Jaguar pulled up behind.

Richard pushed back the top of the armrest and pulled out a telephone receiver. He dialled his father's radio phone number.

- Richie, is that you?" Gerald answered.

- Dad, yes. We're fine. I've got a surprise on the way, so you've got half an hour to dismiss the servants early.

- We'll talk at home," Gerald said in a disgruntled tone.

Richard turned back to the attendant and put the receiver back on the phone:

- Mr Blade, does your service have any special needs? For example, do you need a plane that can become invisible and fly at four and a half thousand miles per hour, or a flying car?

- Hmm..." Mr Blade looked thoughtful. - We could use such equipment, as well as camouflage dressing gowns that make a fighter invisible and many other things. Why?

- I suppose we could discuss the possibility of supplying piece goods... I won't use that word - exclusives. If we can agree on a price, of course.

- I'll pass your offer on to the management, Lord.

- Excellent. But it's a risk, so the price, you realise, will be obscenely high. But if anything, in eleven years' time, I can lobby the House of Lords for more funding for Her Majesty's secret service.

- And this I will pass on to the leadership, Lord.

Richard began to calculate how much he could earn from selling artefacts to the secret service. The sum came out to be at least seven zeros, which was not bad. The main thing is the secrecy of transactions, so as not to get under the pressure of magical legislation, and MI6 is good with it. There is simply no better buyer of artefacts. If it works out, the investment in the artefacts will pay for itself many times over.

- Mr Blade.

- Yes, Lord?

- I need a radar. Small, compact, lab-scale, you might say. The purpose is to test anti-radar invisibility for flying machines.

- Radar?

- Yes, radar.

- Good. Anything else?

- A powerful wind turbine to be installed in Scotland by mid-June.

- Lord Grosvenor, we haven't settled on--

- And three aeroplanes of your choice," Richard continued nonchalantly, as if he hadn't heard any objections. - I must confess that I have no knowledge of aircraft. The only condition is that the planes must be small enough to fit in a fifty-metre hangar, and fast enough, with relatively simple controls. And a couple of squib pilots.

- That's insolence, Lord! - resented the secret service agent.

- All right, all right, I'll buy the cars myself.

- And why do you need aeroplanes, Lord?

- I'll give them to the wizards for a ride.

- And why three? - Alex asked curiously.

- As it happens, sir, one will be broken, the other will be lost, so it is necessary to take a reserve.

- I will pass your wishes to the management.

- And also we need specialists who will explain to the mages the principle of operation of devices and techniques. And another thing.

- Enough! - said Alex.

- Then an anecdote. Scots are the most strong-willed people... Ten years they keep their moonshine in barrels and not a drop!

The driver and Alex laughed at the same time.

- Ha-ha-ha! That's right! - said Mr Blade.

- Can you imagine what Mr Creevey would have done with the "alien" if we hadn't arrived? - Richard asked.

- I can't imagine," Mr Blade shook his head.

- I'm sure the farmer would have beaten the alien on the head with a spade handle and made him pick Colorado potato beetles off his potatoes.

- He doesn't have potatoes," Alex grinned.

- I'm sure that wouldn't stop Mr Creevey. He'd plant potatoes especially for the alien. And he would walk proudly in front of his neighbours, saying: "Look what an alien I have! "Ha! You catch your own. And in a year's time, the county would see hundreds of farmers crawling across the fields with shovels in search of their "alien"....

- Lord Grosvenor, please stop," said the laughing Mr Blade with a huff. Tears welled up in the corners of the man's eyes. - Oh-ho-ho-ho! We don't need a bunch of ufologist farmers with hundreds of aliens catching Colorado beetles in their fields.

Soon the entrance to Eaton Hall estate was in sight. The conversations in the interior of the car died down.

It was necessary to see the eyes of Grosvenor Sr. when Steve and Alex carried the unconscious house elf into the house.

The Duke's stamina was to be commended, except for the twitching right eye, nothing betrayed his surprise and shock.

- What is it? - Gerald asked.

- A houseboy.

- A houseboy?

The duke's raised eyebrows conveyed his utter amazement.

- A houseboy!

- Is he dead?

- Not yet.

- Richie, I asked you to solve the problem, not bring home a half-dead body!

- Dad, problem solved! I got the houseboy back from the farmer and Agent Blade explained to Mr Creevey the importance of secrecy.

- What are you going to do about it?

The duke's meaningful gaze, directed at the house elf, left no doubt as to what was meant by 'it'.

- I'm going to treat it.

- Hmmm... Son, I don't mean to say anything bad, but you haven't had any medical talents in the past. Or has that changed?

- Dad, you can't call an ambulance for a housekeeper," Richard said ironically.

- What if it doesn't work? - Gerald asked reasonably.

- Mr Blade has kindly promised to dispose of the body," Richard smiled dazzlingly.

Mr Grosvenor choked on his prepared phrase and coughed.

- Get rid of the body? - His eyebrows rose again.

- Yes, sir! - calmly and very slowly, Richard lowered his chin.

- Splendid! - Gerald said sarcastically. - It's not a hamster to get rid of a body!

- Hmm..." Richard rubbed his chin with a look of expertise on hamster breeds and scrutinised the house elf. - Definitely not a djungar....

Lord Grosvenor sighed heavily.

- A house elf..." he stretched out. - Oh, my! What if he recovers?

- That would be good, sir.

- Wouldn't it?! Richie, have you thought about how we're going to explain to the servants and guests the presence of an alien dwarf in our house?

- If I had to, there would be an explanation," Richard replied nonchalantly. - For example, we hired a handicapped person who was unlucky in looks and height for charity. But that won't be necessary. I'll send the elf to the wizarding manor. In the meantime, I need the first aid kit.

- The first aid kit is hanging on the wall in the kitchen," Gerald said.

Richard turned to the driver waiting for further orders and said:

- Steve, take the houseboy to my office.

- Steve," the Duke added, "stay with Richard just in case.

Stephen nodded and picked up the house elf.

Soon, with the first aid kit in hand, Richard went up to the first floor to his study. The house elf was lying on the couch, showing no signs of life.

Under the watchful eye of the guard stationed near the front door, the boy washed the elf's head wound, treated it with disinfectants and applied a bandage. Then Richie moistened a cotton wool pad with ammonia and began to swab it near the elf's nose.

The housekeeper's eyelashes fluttered and his eyes opened slightly. A muffled groan escaped his lips.

- Sir wizard..." the houseboy whispered softly. - I apologise for Donkey lying in your presence.

The elf made an attempt to get up, but nearly fell off the couch. Richie held the elf up and shook his head sideways in displeasure.

- 'Lie down, Donkey. You are badly injured.

- Sir wizard should not speak to Donkey in such a respectful manner.

Richard, making sure the patient wasn't going to run away, stepped back to the bookcase, opened the bottom cupboard and took out a bottle of alpine water from there. Unscrewing the cap, he handed the water to the elf.

- Drink it, Donkey. But in small sips. You can't drink too much right now.

- Sir, Donkey will be fine. Magic heals Donkey.

- I'm sure it will.

Richard made another tour to the bookcase and pulled a few chocolate bars from his stash. He literally shoved them into the house elf's hands.

- Eat up, Donkey! I can see you've been hungry for a long time.

Tears of happiness ran down the house elf's cheeks.

- Sir, you shouldn't have cared so much for the despicable house elf! No wizard has ever been so kind to Donkey. But Donkey is a bad elf. The masters gave Donkey clothes.

- And why did the masters give you clothes? - Richard asked calmly.

- 'Donkey is a bad elf...' the houseboy moaned. - Donki dared to make a remark to the young mistress about unworthy behaviour. The master got angry with Donkey and gave... gave,' he sobbed, drenching himself in tears. - Gave Donkey a jacket!

- Amazing! - Richard said sarcastically. - And what unworthy thing has the young mistress done?

- Donkey doesn't dare to discuss her masters," the houseboy said, his lips tightening as if he were a partisan being interrogated by the Nazis.

- And yet... Donkey, you don't want to be a free house elf for the rest of your life, do you?

- No, no! - the house elf's face twisted in horror. - Donkey wants to serve his wizard master, but no one wants a bad house elf. Unless-" There was hope in the look the housekeeper cast at Richard. - The Lord Wizard needs a house elf?! - he asked in an ingratiating tone.

- Unless I'm sure you're not a criminal, Donkey. Suppose it wasn't your past mistress who did the unworthy deed, but someone else. What exactly does this outsider have to do for you to admonish him?

A gamut of emotions ran across the house elf's face. The desire to serve the wizard fought with loyalty to his masters. In the end, the former won out.

- Sir Wizard, if a stranger were to torture kittens with an unforgivable spell, Donkey would admonish him.

- Hmmm... Wonderful family! - Richard said ironically. - Great girl, must have been your former young mistress....

- Mistress is a wonderful sorceress," the houseboy said eagerly, "but..." He looked down ashamedly. - She needs a little nurturing.

- Aye! Just a little! - The sarcasm was pouring out of Richard. He thought to himself, "Ten years in Azkaban."

The houseboy looked at Richard with the look of a beaten dog and said pitifully:

- 'If Sir Wizard wants, Donkey can become servant to Sir Wizard.

- Not so fast. Let's start with you telling me how you ended up in the Creevey farming family.

- Sir... Donkey went around for a long time looking for a place to serve, but all the wizards refused a bad housekeeper. Donkey starved for a long time, because Donkey is not a thief and didn't take other people's food. And yesterday Donkey saw two young wizards. Donkey wanted to join them, but someone hit Donkey on the head.

- Aha! So you woke up tied up in the basement, freed yourself from the ropes and transgressed to the wizards, bowed to them and asked for their services.

- Sir Wizard is absolutely right," the house elf looked at Richard with delight. - 'That's just the way it was! But Donkey had been hit over the head again. Donkey has been hit many times by past masters. Donkey is tough, magic will heal the wounds quickly and....

- You don't have to go any further. Now, you will take this portal and we will travel together to a sorceress I know. And if she confirms what you say, I'll hire you.

- Sir! The elf's hope has been replaced by elation. - Sir wizard, Donkey speaks the truth!

- Lord! - corrected the house elf by the boy. - Lord Richard Grosvenor. You will call me Lord in front of strangers, and when we are alone, Mr Richie or Sir. Got it?

- Yes, Lord!

The house elf's eyes shone with even more delight. He grasped the portal chain like a drowning man grasping at straws.

- Portus.

In a moment, the boy and the house elf were in front of the door to Griselda Marchbanks' house. As soon as Richard knocked, the door swung open.

The elderly sorceress regarded the visitors with bewilderment.

- My boy, is it Saturday?

- No, tutor. Good afternoon. I apologise for the sudden intrusion. I come on important business.

- Hmm... My boy, what's that?

The sorceress was pointing towards the elf lying on the doorstep with a wand that suddenly appeared in her hand.

- A house elf, ma'am. I found him wounded and in his clothes, thought he was a stranger and thought I'd take him for myself. But I wanted to consult with you first.

- That's right, Richard," the witch said in a loud, pleased tone. - Today's young people do things first and think later. You're good. Now let's find out what kind of housekeeper it is.The elf was carried into the house by levitation charms, and then Madame Marchbanks began to interrogate the housekeeper. This was the second time Richard had heard the story of the long-eared alien.

- Well, well, well!" muttered the witch. - Crucio, then. Someone from an old pureblood family. I have some suspicions as to who this elf's masters are.

- Ma'am? So what's your advice? Am I allowed to take this elf into my service?

- My boy, - the old woman looked at her ward with a warm gaze, - in the past, you could find a house elf without any problems. But now it's a problem. There are more wizards, and elves breed too slowly, so there are not enough for everyone. The housekeeper seems to be good, well-trained, even he doesn't twist his words.

Donkey caught every word of the sorceress with hope in his eyes. He held his breath in excitement and waited for the verdict of the Wizengamot Elder as if it were a judge's verdict.

- Yes, not a bad houseboy," continued Madame Marchbanks. - And the fact that he's sickly is nothing. They heal as fast as a dog. So, Richard, if you're not afraid of superstition, you can have this servant.

- Superstition, ma'am?

- Some wizards believe that house elves who are kicked out by their masters bring bad luck.

- And really, ma'am?

- Actually, it's a load of rubbish! - snorted contemptuously at the sorceress. - Of course, superstitions are not born out of nowhere. There are several cases when wizards drove out mad house elves. And if another wizard accepted such an elf as his servant, it is quite natural that it did not end well. But this elf is normal, as far as they can be considered as such. So there's nothing to fear. My boy, do you still wish to take him as your servant?

- Yes, master.

- Well, then, I will perform the inviolable rite of bondage. How good of you to come to me. Today's wizards have no memory of their roots and despise the old charms. Fools! And if they want the same housekeeper, what will they do? Sign a contract of employment?! K-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

The witch's joke made her laugh, and the sorceress couldn't calm down and laughed for a long time.

When she calmed down, Griselda Marchbanks waved her wand for a long time and muttered the words of the spell to herself. The spell enveloped the boy and the house elf. It was impossible to tell who was more nervous. Richard was worried that the not-young sorceress would mess up something in the spells and make him a servant instead of a lord. Donkey was worried about something else - only if the honourable sorceress did not change her mind and interrupted the spell, because he dreamed of his master so much, and there was a wonderful sorcerer who took care of him in his time of need.

But then Madame Marchbanks stopped witchcraft and said:

- "That's it!

Richard covered his eyes and checked his sensations. At first glance, nothing seemed to have changed.

- Thank you, mentor," the boy bowed respectfully.

Donkey shone with happiness like a polished galleon. It seemed to him that there was no happier house elf in the entire world than he was. Even the wounds on the wave of elation were hardly felt at all. The elf was able to rise to his feet and managed to stand, only the ground swaying slightly.

- 'Lord, Donkey is happy to serve you,' the houseboy gave Richard a low bow, practically sweeping the floor with his ears.

- Richard, will you stay for tea? - Madame Marchbanks asked.

- 'I'm sorry, ma'am, I'd love to stay for fave-o-clock, but father is very worried.

- Oh, then I won't detain you, my boy. Go and take the servant with you.

- Thank you very much, tutor. Again, I apologise for the sudden intrusion. Good day.

Richard, along with his now house elf, travelled by portal to the living room of Eaton Hall, where he was greeted by an agitated Gerald.

- 'Richie, what's the matter? Why are you disappearing without warning?

- Dad, who am I supposed to tell that I'm using the portal? The guard who's not supposed to know anything about magic? Or you, who's left downstairs? Oh, great! Am I going to run up and down all over the house just to get permission to visit my tutor for a few minutes?! Didn't you want me to be more independent? What kind of double standard is that? You want to see me independent and making decisions, or your subordinate who asks permission for every sneeze.

The Duke looked angry, but realised his son was right. He himself had sent the child along with an MI6 agent to gain experience in dealing with crisis situations. And it is worth noting that the boy coped quite well, although quite original.

- What did Mrs Marchbanks say? - Gerald asked instead of swearing.

- The tutor assured him that this house elf was safe. And she also helped cement Donkey's service to me with spells.

- That's how. Son, you're not really gonna pass him off as a mutant dwarf, are you?

- Dad, that was a good idea! But no, I'm not. When Donkey gets better, he'll be able to turn invisible. Right, I've got to go.Richard went into the kitchen, where he got some food for the houseboy following him around.

- Eat.

- Thank you, Lord. Excuse Donkey. Donkey will be well tomorrow.

- Donkey, you'll sleep in one of the spare servants' quarters tonight. Then take a shower and choose an outfit from my old clothes.

- The Lord Wizard is giving Donkey clothes?! - The house elf trembled in horror. He looked extremely surprised.

- Are you stupid? - Richard said with irritation. - Can't you see the difference between 'take the clothes yourself' and 'I'm giving you clothes'!

- I'm sorry, Lord... - the houseboy stopped shedding tears. - So the master doesn't give Donkey clothes?

- Okay, listen to me carefully! My servants must be the standard of nobility, cleanliness, and impeccability. By looking at my servants, people judge me and the Grosvenor family as a whole. If my servant is bare-assed, smelly, and wrapped in rags, people will think the Grosvenors are in a bad way. So either you, Donkey, embrace the importance of serving the Grosvenors and behave like a model butler, or I will actually hand you clothes!

The house elf stretched into a string, pulled his stomach in and stuck out his chest. He replied in the tone of a prim butler:

- Lord Grosvenor, Donkey has understood. What should Donkey do?

- Donkey, my wardrobe is full of old clothes that are too small for me. When you get better, go through it all. The clothes and shoes that fit you, keep them as work uniforms. If you need to adjust them somewhere, sew them up. Everything else goes to charity.

- Donkey understood, sir.

- And don't let anyone see you, except me and my Lord Gerald Grosvenor, my father. Though... He shouldn't be in my sight either.

- Donkey can be invisible again tomorrow, master, sir.

- Good. The servants' quarters are at the end of the first floor corridor. If I'm not mistaken, the last room on the left should be vacant. I won't keep you any longer.

The house elf, laden with food, went in search of his temporary bedroom.

For the first time, the house elf lived in Eaton Hall, invisible to everyone except Richard.

The boy was pleased with Donkey's behaviour. He looked much better in patent shoes and an old children's suit that had been worn only three times. Yes, his appearance still left much to be desired, but the phlegmatic and nonchalant demeanour of the prim butler that the elf had adopted distracted attention from the irregular eyes, ears, nose, baldness and greyish skin. As it was, Richie was willing to leave Donkey among the servants, especially since the Grosvenors had been without a butler for several years now. But Gerald was against it, and his word was law in this house.

The past butler was so old that he had served as far back as Grandfather Karl. He had retired even before the fallen man had become Richard, and a new such servant was a long time to wait. Grosvenor Sr. has placed an order for a new butler at a special school that trains elite servants. The problem is that all graduates of this institution have already been bought out. Of course, this is not slavery, that is, not the people themselves are bought out, but long working contracts for them. And the salary of such servants is very decent, about the same as the head of an average company, and it is more difficult to get into such an educational institution than in any other elite public school. In general, before the appearance of a new butler in "Eton Hall" is still a couple of years, so, contrary to tradition, gentlemen are served by a maid.

Every tradition has its exceptions. And if suddenly there is no butler in the family of an aristocrat, gentlemen will not turn their noses up at the fact that they are served by a maid.

On the tenth of June, Richard passed the last exam for the fourth grade of secondary school. And the next day he travelled to Scotland with Donkey, Stephen, Scott and Harry Potter to accept a job as a builder. All five of them had no trouble fitting into the Bentley.

Between Harry and Richard in the back seat sat Donkey. Steve drove the car as usual and Scott took the front passenger seat.

- So this is the house elf? - Harry asked, looking at the house elf curiously.

- Quite right," Richard said. - How are you getting on, Harry?

- Phew! School's finally over! The holidays! - Harry Potter was glowing with happiness. - How are you doing, Richie?

- I'm great. I've passed my exams and now I'm free until September, like a bird in the sky, just flapping my wings. Remember I wrote to you about finding Donkey?

- You'd never forget it! - Harry tried not to laugh, but he couldn't hide his smile. - I've never laughed like that before. You described that farmer so amusingly. I wonder if his children will be studying with us at Hogwarts.

- Most likely. I didn't specify the ages of Mr Creevey's children. Perhaps some of them will enter Hogwarts this year, or even after us.

- I learnt a new spell! - Harry bragged, and then yelped, covering his mouth with his hands and looking at Stephen.

- Don't worry, Harry," Richard patted his mate on the shoulder. - Steve works in the secret service and knows about wizards. Besides, in case you hadn't noticed, Donkey's been sitting with us since the beginning.

- Sir," the driver said with a slight indignation, "I'm asking you not to divulge classified information about where I work or what position I hold. And about the other agents too, sir.

- Sorry, Steve. Won't happen again.

A word gets out, a blaster doesn't hit you with a blaster. Harry had already heard the information and stared at the driver with admiration.

- Sir, excuse me," said the young Potter, "are you like James Bond?

- Almost. I'm cooler! - Steven replied in a calmer voice.

- Wow," Harry exclaimed excitedly. - Do you have a gun like Uncle Scott?

- Sure," Steve answered.

- Harry, don't pick on the man," Scott admonished his nephew.

- 'Sorry,' Harry apologised, before turning his attention to his peer. - 'Richie, thanks for the invitation. I don't get out much.

- Don't lie, kid! - Scott pretended to be indignant. - What about going shooting and fishing with me?

- Erm... I didn't mean that, Uncle Scott. It's just that we were with you then, and this is me and Richie.

- It's just an ordinary trip to see the completion of a building project," Richard pointed out. - Of course we'll have a barbecue picnic, but we can do better than that. Harry, how would you like to go to Disneyland in July?

- Disneyland? - Harry's eyes lit up with excitement.

- Yeah, Disneyland. We'll invite a good friend of mine, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Maybe Uncle Charlie will let Bill come with us. It'll be fun. But then we'll have more guards than one bus can hold.

- Are these guys all right? - Harry asked cautiously.

- They're great! - Richard assured him, to the derisive snickers of Scott and Steve. - Only one of them is a prince, but that's not a flaw worth pointing out. We're wizards. We live with it somehow.

- A prince?! - Harry's mouth opened into an "O" and his eyes became the size of large coins.

- Yeah, Prince William. You've heard of him?

- Oh my God, who hasn't heard of Prince William?! - Harry exclaimed in amazement. - Are you telling me that Prince William is going to Disneyland with us?

- What if he's a prince, he's not human and he doesn't want to ride a roller coaster?!

- Well..." Harry Potter mimicked Harry Potter's embarrassment. - I guess he does. I definitely do. How old is he?

- He's a year younger than us.

- Ritchie, who is the other boy: the king, the emperor, the president's son? - Harry asked.

- I'm almost there. Justin's father is a banker and a Lord. Baron Finch-Fletchley. But don't worry about that. Justin's a modest bloke, and he's a man of the cloth. He's not some sort of major. Tell me, when did you get a chance to shoot? And why didn't you invite me?

- Uncle Scott only invited me to the range," Harry smiled embarrassedly. - You're not offended, are you?

- Why would I be? - Richie laughed merrily. - Harry, it was a tease! I don't invite you to family gatherings either, you know. So what's that spell you learnt?

- Alohomora! - replied the young Potter proudly. - You can open a lock faster than you can with a lock pick.

- You'd think you'd know how to use lock picks," Richard smirked defiantly.

- I do! - Harry replied. - Uncle Scott taught me.

- If Mr Potter did, then I believe it. He's had a lot of detective practice, and he's got all sorts of skills. Sometimes I think he's as good at everything as Steve.

- Boy, you're exaggerating," Scott said in a jovial tone. - I can't fly a helicopter, for instance.

- And Steve? - Richard asked.

- I can fly a helicopter, sir," said the driver. - I can fly an aeroplane, too, and I have the appropriate licence.

- Great! - Harry Potter marvelled. - I wish I could fly an aeroplane too.

- My spell tutor told me that wizards fly on broomsticks. Broomsticks, Harry! That's crazy!

- Really?! - Harry exclaimed in amazement.

- Seriously! I didn't believe it myself at first, but I saw a shop with broomsticks in Scythe Lane. It turned out they were flying. And then I got the idea to use the same charms on an aeroplane, so that it could fly without fuel. I think it's much safer and more comfortable.

- I can't imagine flying on a broom," Harry said. - By the way, when I went to Slanting Lane with my uncle, I saw a broom shop, too, and wondered why there were boys in the window looking at cleaning equipment like supercars. Turns out that's what it is!

- Harry, how did you know the unlocking spell?

- Uncle Scott at Flourish and Blotts bought up all the textbooks for every course at Hogwarts and had a bunch more books on spells and potions. I've already brewed the Rowan Decoction! Cool stuff - heals wounds almost instantly. Too bad it didn't heal my scar.

- Fascinating! You're already brewing potions. I don't have time for that.

- I think it's cool to study with a tutor. He's probably showing you some cool spells, isn't he?

- No, Harry, you're wrong. Firstly, it's not him, it's her, an old lady, well over 200 years old. Secondly, she's showing me the usual spells they teach at Hogwarts. Only she makes me practise every spell until I fall over. I'm a real wreck after class. It's only when the spells start to work non-verbally that my mentor moves on to a new spell.

- Still, a personal magic teacher is incredible.

- Connections, Harry. Connections solve a lot of things. If I didn't have a godfather like you, I still wouldn't know about the magical world.

- But you recognised me when you met me! - the young Potter said reprovingly. - The way you spoke...

- It was just an epiphany. It happens to me sometimes. A big shot from MI6 called me a prophet, but I think he's wrong.

- A prophet?! - There was a silent question in Harry's eyes.

- 'Nephew, prophets are wizards who can see the future,' Scott said. - 'They don't always know what they're talking about. What's more, prophets don't always remember what they foretold. It's a phenomenon even by the standards of wizards.

- I hope you're wrong," Harry Potter whispered quietly. - I hope so. I don't want to save the world - I want to go to Disneyland.....