Chapter 29: 29
Grimmo 12, living room.
It's an evening.
*
"Kreacher! I bought five houses today to house the Black family. Listen to the problem. Go with this portkey," I gave Kreacher one of ten portkeys, "clean up the houses. Dump all the garbage, old curtains, tablecloths, pieces of furniture and anything that rots. Don't try too hard. There'll be goblins doing repairs anyway. If you find anything of value, report it to me. It'll take you two hours."
The sky's been dark for the last hour, and there you go. Just as soon as Kreacher left, it rained. I didn't want to close the window. Instead, I lit the fireplace, fixed the cushions and lay down on the sofa by the fire, looking at the fire.
A disgruntled Crookshanks entered the living room. He spent the whole day in the backyard, and he came here clearly only because of the rain. The cat jumped on the opposite sofa, he also lay down looking at the fire. After a few minutes of contemplation, the cat rumbled quite a bit.
I pulled a blanket over my head and fell asleep.
*
Grimmo 12, living room.
A quarter to 11 pm on September 6, 1991.
*
The lawyer is most likely from a family famous for its magical alcohol. The magical world is small, and prosperous families are even smaller. There's only one thing I need to learn from him that might make my life a little easier in the long run. Okay, trying to strengthen me is a good thing! I took a card with Big Ben, bent my legs a little and waited for the portkey to work.
I found myself in a spacious, light and tall room, half Victorian. The style spoiled the furniture, the bookshelves, and the quite modern, unflattering desk behind which Mr. Ogden sat. A visitor's chair was waiting for me in front of the desk. The wall opposite the shelves was decorated with plaster painted ornaments, wrapped in high lancet windows. I looked at all this as I approached the table.
"Have a seat, mister," Mr. Ogden started.
"Mr. Stranger, sir."
"As you wish, Mr. Stranger. The goblins set up this meeting and reported that their client needs legal advice."
"Yes, Mr. Ogden, I need legal advice. First question. Suppose a young man from an ancient family is invited to study at Hogwarts. A young man ignores the invitation. If he suddenly secretly comes to Hogwarts, perceives Hogwarts as a pupil or a perimeter breaker?"
"The list of Hogwarts disciples takes effect when the names of the disciples are written into Hogwarts' magic book. It all depends on whether the young man's name is written there by Headmaster or his deputy," Ogden took a long pause. "Mr. Stranger, you do realize that it's enough to apply the formula "who benefits?" to your question and take into account the latest news buzz to reveal your incognito?"
"Mr. Ogden, you read and analyze the latest noise in the papers. You are not an idiot. So you understand why it's not worth doing."
Ogden's answer about the student list neither brings me closer to the target nor removes me from it. I don't want to get into Hogwarts as an intruder. On the other hand, a rat and a Sirius in the canon went into Hogwarts like their own home, and nobody cared. Or is it the animagus and Hogwarts' security systems don't work on it?
"Question numbers two. Recently, Wizengamot, it must be assumed, not without pressure from Dumbledore, passed a law according to which all Muggle babies in Britain must study at Hogwarts. Suppose, outside of Hogwarts, a Muggle-born uses spells.
He's expelled from school under the Reasonable Restriction of the Use of Magic by Minors Act. What happens to the Muggle-born? He'll be expelled from school under the law."
"Given the corrupt nature of our courts, the Muggle-born will have what the judge needs. There's no precedent yet, Dumbledore's law was passed recently, so it's not clear what's going to apply to the Muggle-born."
"Thank you, Mr. Ogden."
My visit to the lawyer turned out to be one big "snap". I might as well have spat on the ceiling. Whoever's stronger is right, that's the whole system of courts in Magic Britain. "Money transferred to your name account?"
"If you would be so kind. Have a nice day."
"Goodbye, Mr. Ogden," I've gone to Gringotts. 70 galleons wasted!
At the post office, I organized a Hermione parcel containing messenger parchment. I'll give the paired one to her parents. Three books on the traditions of magical society and a short explanatory note:
*
Dear Hermione,
This parchment is for contacting your parents.
Books in a parcel about the traditions of magical society, as I promised.
Good luck with your studies.
Mr. Evans.
*
Gringotts, the familiar meeting room, a quarter to 3:00 in the afternoon.
*
Something died today in the forbidden forest, I was met by a smiling Shnagrog. Does my species bring joy to people... to goblins? Which one of me is the future Dark Lord then?
"Good day, Master Shnagrog."
"Good afternoon, heir to the Black family. You must have seen the candidate's portfolio?"
"That's right, but I never came to an unequivocal decision. I'm inclined to hire Miss Bosworth. But as a result of her probationary work, I'm going to make a decision. Still, her previous experience isn't exactly what I was looking for."
"Then I suggest we proceed with the interview," Shnagrog went up and moved into the chair at the end of the table, thus taking on the role of observer.
Soon in the meeting room entered a girl in her twenties, with blonde hair, medium height, a face a little like Joan Granger. I stood up and tilted my head, greeting her. Eh, time to learn etiquette. Who knows how many rules I just broke? It's not professional anymore.
"Good afternoon, Miss Bosworth."
"Good afternoon, Mister..."
"If you don't mind, call me "sir" for an interview."
"As you wish, sir."
"Miss Bosworth, I have reviewed your portfolio. You're a college graduate in journalism, but it's hard to tell from these cuts about your analytical skills and how to produce material."
"Alas, sir, and "Witch Weekly" and "Daily Prophet" specialize in gossip."
"I offer you a probationary period. If you do well, then we will continue our cooperation and your wages will increase."
"Sir, will my articles be printed? Why do you need journalistic services? I know all potential employers. I doubt you're one of them. They wouldn't be interviewing incognito. I only came to this interview because it's organized through Gringotts."
"Your articles will be printed. But I can't promise that they'll be published under your name. The thing is, I have powerful enemies, and they'll probably try to get me through my employees. If we make a contract with you, I'll leave a pseudonym of your choice under which your articles will be published."
It'll scare anyone away. Bosworth's thinking hard.
"What's the payment, sir?"
"For the first two months, on probation, two hundred and fifty galleons a month. If we continue our relationship, the payment will increase by a hundred galleons. The employee can be provided with accommodation for the duration of his work. This is a cottage."
Thoughts were repeated, but this time it was shorter. Not every wizard makes three hundred and fifty gallons a month in the magical world. The Ministry's average salary is 200 galleons.
"Sign what?"
"Master Shnagrog, would you please certify the signing of the contract?"
Shnagrog gave us the prepared contract sheets, and after our signatures he signed them himself as a witness.
"Miss Bosworth, take this," I gave her a reusable regular key to door Grimmo 12, "This is a portkey to my house. Can you make it to the meeting tonight at 9:00 p.m.?"
"Call me Anna. And what do I call you? We already signed the contract."
"Do you own the occlumency, Anna?"
"Yes, sir."The occlumency is one of the few magical arts that every magician needs. So I trained it with special diligence and achieved above-average results."
"I signed a contract as heir to the Black family, but in Magic England I'm known as Harry Potter."
She tired me out. I'm uncomfortable dragging a woman into my business. But we'll talk to her, and I'll try to cool her thirst for journalism. I've got time to rest before the evening meetings. The Militants are expected at 7:00 p.m. I ordered Shnagrog some more details and went home.
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