Chapter Eleven. I take revenge, and my revenge is terrible
Yol decided to spend it in Manor and in his World, that's not up for discussion. Rituals and all that... True, as a sid (again, "bonus," yes...), I can more or less ignore some rituals or postpone them. On the other hand, there are also "crumbs" the sidus have enough restrictions, and I was very sad to discover that the Muggle world... alas. Yes, all this "cold iron" and other "superstitions" work.
I can tolerate metal in small quantities — I use cold weapons and other things normally. But London smog and factory soot... It's like an allergy that weighs more heavily on the soul. But it's very unpleasant. Hmm, if I don't suffer defeat and leave my world for good, I know who will support Thatcher* and the eco-fascists...
I also met Lottie...
"You haven't changed your mind, have you?" were her first words after greeting me.
"No," I smile slightly and see that the woman is very "on edge." Well, it's not surprising — events are unfolding right now that are truly epic. And it's desirable that outsiders find out about them as late as possible, or better yet, not at all.
Looking me in the eyes, the bride... yes, the bride, despite her less than presentable appearance... sinks into a chair and hands me a file on the other candidates.
"I found seventeen women who formally meet your requirements.
I raise an eyebrow...
"That's how it turned out," Lotta covers her eyes wearily, "I found the candidates, but the DECISION is yours and yours alone.Hmm... I like this approach...
To reassure his future wife, he performed a rather interesting ritual, which made the engagement even more... profound. No, nothing "like that," I just "introduced" Lotta to the World, sprinkled her with the blood of the Cornerstone of the World... In short, now all I need to do to get married is to... record her on that very Stone... But it's too early — "little me" has only just begun to wake up in the mornings. By the beginning of summer, puberty should be in full swing, and then... I don't want to artificially hasten the process. Even if I am a Healer, you never know... I am now a sit, not a human, who knows how it will affect me... No, I'll wait.
During the winter holidays, I looked through the candidates and selected four as the main ones, after another conversation with Lotta.
Tsefeya Tolin (maiden name) — a half-breed from an obscure clan. An unfortunate marriage arranged by the clan leader, in which she was used as a "token" in a trade agreement. Thanks to the Curse, her husband was infertile, although he had children from his first marriage. Thanks to the same Curse (which seems to be contagious, as far as I understand), she also became infertile and devoted herself to heraldry, the main business of her new family. She became a Master, but about ten years ago she was widowed and received a small Hidden (but not Manor!) farm as a "dowry," and slowly drank herself to death.
"What's wrong with her, if a Master herbologist was kicked out of the family business?
"She's fine," Lotta replied confidently, "it's her husband's family... they're difficult, in general. Very difficult. She's normal, except that she's vulnerable — her father basically sold her, she can't get along with her husband, she has children... In short, she'll do anything for the chance to have a family and children.
I nod, I understand...
Irma Nemova, Master of Herbal Medicine, is a second-generation Czech. She has never been married and is completely devoted to science.
"I had an ugly story in my youth — a purebred jerk 'played around' with a girl and then spread rumours. In the end, I never got married — it was all very dirty there... I closed myself off, and then somehow it didn't work out. In principle, I could get married now or have a child in a temporary marriage, but that's how we are...
"I know, they're vulnerable.
"Well... she doesn't want her children to repeat her fate, and in her position... She thinks it's better not to have children than to end up like her. She's very withdrawn.
"And us?
"It should work out well for us — all the 'broken' ones gather here, including you.
Having said that, Lotta smiled sadly and raised her glass.
Venus Velosipedi...
"What imaginative parents she has," I mutter under my breath, giggling quietly.
Although such surnames are not uncommon among the Greeks. So...
Her father was a Greek magician from a good family, but he was the last of his line – blood feuds and all that. He moved to the United States and there... The original – he married a shaman – also from a destroyed family, who had no tribe left... As a result, the master shaman turned out to be... restless. In Greece, she would be killed, and in the United States in particular, and in North America in general, they would try to force her to work for the Ministry... She is the daughter of a shaman from a clan that was destroyed with the help of the Ministry!
Hmm... well, well — young and beautiful, looks like a Hindu, although, yes, considering her origins...
"She just needs a family," says the bride, "but her upbringing is such... And... um... she's more into girls.
I chuckle slightly, making Lotta blush, and put the folder aside — we'll take her... No, not because she's a "Bi," just because a shaman with a more or less European upbringing is a rarity.
Marina de Ville — Master of Blood...
"I'll take it!
"Hee-hee-hee! Take a look first.
Eh? Ah... she's got quite a bonus, and anyway... Grindelwald's people are hunting her down as a recognised Master. Not a priority, but important. Getting in their way... But the blood... Hmm. And she has a fifteen-year-old daughter who has caught the eye of Sigmund Stolz, one of the important officials in the Ahnenerbe.
"Why?
"Why did I give them to you? First of all, blood is rare, and secondly, I have the opportunity to 'take them away' without anyone noticing.
"Ah... I see!
While Lotta was busy with her "spy games," I slipped Dumbledore a fat "pig." The future "Good Old Grandfather" annoyed and hindered me, and I knew the red-bearded (at least for now) wizard's "weak spot" quite well.
"..." these Albus games with men," said the hoarse, cold-stricken man disdainfully, talking to his stocky companion. Fink, who was following behind, pricked up his ears mechanically.
"Exactly. Ahem. It's disgusting — and it would be fine if he were just a sodomite, but he works at a school now, with children. Who knows...
The unknown magicians walking ahead turned into an alley and disappeared, and Fink was upset.
"My nephew was invited to Hogwarts too," a middle-aged woman, clearly not well off, continued the conversation in a hoarse voice to her equally shabby companion, rummaging through the junk in Knockturn Alley, "but we thought about it and decided against it.
"Come on...
"I'm telling you, they invited him. He may not be God knows how powerful, but he's good enough for Hogwarts. You know... since Dippet became headmaster, things have gone downhill at Hogwarts. They haven't changed the programme much, but... Look, my neighbour works...
The saleswoman doesn't hear the few flattering comments. Then...
"... and then they even hired a sodomite to teach. Yeah.
"... oaths?
"Eh... oaths are oaths... Even if that redhead swore not to touch the children, you know what I'll tell you? If a wizard is corrupt, it will come out anyway. He may not touch them with his hands, but if he finds a cute boy, he'll still do something bad.
"I agree, M..." He'll shower him with attention, devour him with his eyes... I don't know, but he'll think of something!
"That's what I'm saying. If they invited someone so corrupt to teach at the school, you know something's wrong there, don't you? Let my nephew study in... At least they don't teach him much there, but it's safer for him.
A couple of teenagers in Hogwarts robes, but with hidden faculty emblems and obvious illusions on their faces, sitting in an unpretentious café (although the name "tavern" would have been more appropriate for this establishment) were having a quiet conversation, discussing the teachers. They had time to drink some ale, and, unaccustomed to drinking, they were clearly feeling a little tipsy. To their credit, they did not continue their "fun," but still...
"... Slytherin...
"Yeah, that's what you get...
"… Dumbledore...
A young con artist "on trust" from the Muggle-born (and who also worked as a Muggle) immediately pricked up his ears — he knew that even scraps of information could give him a certain advantage. A bit here, a bit there... and before you know it, he could buy his way out of trouble with the Aurors or get a tip on where to find his next mark...
"... He's unpleasant. He looks at you with those oily eyes... Ugh! You know, you looked at that waitress the same way.
"…okay…
"I'm telling you, I've caught him looking at her more than once.
"… Have you met people like that?
"My cousin... a neighbour of mine, he's seen plenty. But he's okay — he's a Muggle, and he doesn't work with children.
"…stay away from Dumbledore, or else… They say he's a master of Legilimency.
"Phew... someone like that... you'll never know...
"… warn our people, or else…
Transfiguration, illusions, mental tricks — I threw in about thirty scenes like that before the end of the holidays. All different types, all disparaging Dippet and his creatures. But Dumbledore — especially. Maybe he'll start messing with the students less... No, I'm not afraid of him hitting on me, they said all sorts of things about him. But it seems like they agreed on a passive role... ffu... On the other hand, there's less opportunity to call a student out for a frank conversation or keep them alone somewhere and use Legilimency. I don't know if it will help...
It did help — the administration pretended that nothing had happened, but Albus stopped assigning extra work to students and, even more so, stopped checking that they did it. And the teachers somehow avoided him with disgust... Not all of them, of course — some didn't believe it, some were Dippet's creatures. Dean Ravenlo, apparently, believed it — and now all the detention and punishment of the faculty's students was under his control.
The winter passed relatively peacefully, although the school administration was nervous — not only were there rumours about a sodomite among the teachers, but there were also treasures... The rumour I had started in late autumn gained momentum and had the desired effect. As a result, "treasure hunters" of varying degrees of competence were constantly wandering around the Castle, a constant headache for the teachers and an excellent cover for my plans.
"You didn't start those rumours by accident, did you?" Brian Boru approached me at the end of February.
I smiled...
"It was unfair to get fired, so...
"Tough," said the senior student approvingly, but his voice clearly betrayed his approval, "aren't you afraid of the reaction? They won't take you at the Ministry..."
"No... I'm a pure scientist by nature, I'll advance science, or maybe go to Mungo.
"The Ministry has a lot of influence there too," said Felicia Lee, the fiancée of the powerful Brian, who was listening attentively, leaning on the parapet of the tower. A beautiful couple, by the way... He is the epitome of a Viking, as the common people imagine them, although in reality he is Irish with a fair amount of Slavic blood. She is also of Gaelic descent, thin but strong as a spring. She is also fair-haired, with a slight reddish tinge.
"You will have wonderful children," I say suddenly, rounding my eyes. Felicia looks at me intently...
"A prophecy? Or a good wish? Is it... Sid in your ancestors?
I nod, Sid's blood can't be hidden.
"Oh, how... better not to spread that around. I mean, Sid is in the family — you can say that, lots of people have that, but you can't just wish that on someone. There are enough fools out there.
I nod again, words are superfluous here. We sit in silence for a while and feel the pure, unclouded happiness spreading from the couple next door.
Support Thatcher*" Most Brits STRONGLY dislike the "Iron Lady" — and with good reason. She turned the island into a financial "reserve" and a money laundering structure, which initially had a beneficial effect on the economy. But she also lobbied hard for the closure of the real sector of the economy – that is, all kinds of manufacturing. She also "hit" school (and not only school) education, making it THE WORST IN EUROPE. All in all, the old lady did a lot of "fun" things. And if in the early to mid-20th century, most English people were skilled farmers or hard workers, today they are low-skilled workers living largely on state subsidies. This can take the form of direct support for single mothers (in England, it is more profitable to have children without getting married) or subsidies for openly unprofitable industries that employ citizens. Today, England has NO powerful manufacturing industry and very little high-tech production, and when (not "if") the financial bubble bursts, the standard of living there will be no worse than in the Baltic states.
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