Chapter 404: Chapter 404
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"I..." Potter looked up, looking straight into the headmaster's eyes. "I felt like I really, really needed to be in that place. I saw Voldemort torture members of the Order who came to help."
"Rookie… Ugh," spat, but only with a sound, Moody. "Didn't even suggest that Voldemort himself put these thoughts into you?"
"I have never been wrong when I saw things through his eyes..." Potter clearly wanted to be outraged, but he didn't have the physical and moral strength for this. Neither did he have the strength to fix his cracked round glasses.
"You think you can't make a mistake?" I glared at Potter. "But the decisions you make could get you and everyone who follows you killed. Do you understand that?"
"I should have abandoned him?" he looked defiantly.
"You should have notified the competent wizards about what happened. And Sirius is already an adult wizard, and he put you and your friends in danger with his antics. Voldemort has the prophecy."
"Well, well," the headmaster smiled reassuringly. "Relax. Everything ended well."
"It depends for whom," Alastor grinned, and in response to the headmaster's questioning look, continued. "This rookie caused such a beating in the Death Chamber... There was no stone left unturned, and there were seven casualties among the Death Eaters, including Crouch."
Dumbledore looked at me reproachfully.
"Don't make that your face," grinned Moody, turning to the Headmaster. "As we understand it, Max has managed to get the Death Eaters under their own spells and curses."
"That's good to hear," the headmaster covered his eyes for a few moments. "Mr. Knight. I'd like to thank you for your help."
"No need to, Headmaster," I waved it off.
"I won't detain anyone anymore. You, Mr. Potter, I will ask you to stay."
Alastor took a couple of parchments out of his coat, placed them on the headmaster's desk, and headed for the fireplace. I went to the office's exit and then to the common room of the House. Wandering through the dark corridors of the castle, I was thinking about what to do and how to proceed. It is obvious that Voldemort will regret that he did not kill me on the spot, and after my escapade, he will definitely pay close attention to me, which does not promise anything good. Some vague idea was persistently spinning in my head that it was time to move on to decisive and selfless measures. But how? Yes, and it's worth figuring out exactly what passed to me from Crouch's soul. Although I gave the sword the task of "sending to rebirth," the sword still took some crumbs. What kind? It is not clear. As with the dragon, I still do not understand what I got from it.
As soon as I entered the common room, the eyes of the few students gathered here from the senior courses were directed at me at the same moment. They were clearly curious, but they didn't seem to know the whole story yet, since not a single person involved in the recent mess was here. When I looked around, I didn't notice Hermione.
"Hermione came by?"
A couple of students shook their heads negatively. Maybe she decided to stay in the hospital wing? After leaving the common room, I went to the hospital wing. Even though it was the middle of the night, not a single teacher came across.
In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey confirmed that Hermione was here, but already asleep under her potions, and anyway, the night is no time for visits. I left the hospital wing of the castle, and after putting on a variety of charms of concealment, I left Hogwarts altogether, having moved from the border of anti-apparation charms directly to London.
The capital could please with an infrequent sight - snow. White and fluffy, right now, large flakes falling from the sky, bringing with them a sense of celebration. This holiday feeling was fueled by the various working establishments, brightly colored storefronts, Christmas decorations on houses, and couples or groups of people of various ages, beaming with good mood, subtly hinted that a little more, a couple of days, and Christmas would come. It even seemed that you were about to hear the traditional chimes of bells on Santa's sleigh. Grinning at such thoughts, I moved along one of the central streets, the snow creaking under my feet.
Thoughts about the need for decisive action formed in my head into something more definite, and the longer I walked, the more clear the suicidal plan became, immediately requiring implementation.
"Oh-ho-ho," came the familiar bird cry behind me, and out of habit, putting my elbow to the side, I could watch Pirate land on it, as if on a perch.
"And what have you brought me?" I smiled at the perpetually disheveled owl.
"Oh-ho."
"Nothing?"
" Oh-ho-ho," the Pirate stared at me with one eye, opening it wide and as if in shock.
"Hmm, you're not such a simple bird, are you, owl?"
"Oh-ho."
"Okay, I've got a job for you..."
Dropping my bag from my shoulder, I pulled out the parchment. I wrote a small letter on it with magic without a wand and handed it to the Pirate, sending it to its destination. Now I could walk around the city some more.
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