Chapter 15: 15
I was now sitting at my desk in Transfiguration, yawning desperately because I hadn't slept well. Why was that? Simple, the goblins had called a party. As it turned out, these creatures of the Twilight genius knew how to celebrate. With great fanfare. Thank goodness it never got beyond the dungeons of their bank. If it had, you could have prayed on the wasteland where Cosa and Lyutný Lane used to stand. Yes, and England itself would have suffered too many natural disasters and upheavals. I also drank the strange tasting juice served by the elves, who didn't refuse to celebrate either, so the surprised people got bread, boiling water with tea and sugar, and various ingredients for sandwiches for breakfast today. And they had to make them themselves. You should have seen the amazement on the faces of not only the students but all the staff who attended the breakfast. Flitwick wasn't there because he'd had a bit too much goblin booze last night and was suffering from a nightmare hangover that neither potions nor spells could cure. He was smoky from the ears, as if he'd drunk a bodice-ripping potion. So all the courses were out of spells for the day. And our faculty was left to fend for itself for a day.
Monday turned out to be a really tough day for goblins, elves, Flitwick, dragons from the dungeons, which the celebrating goblins managed to get drunk and then flew, performing incredible aerobatics that even fighter pilots could only dream of.
The gargoyle outside the headmaster's office was also missing. Eventually Flitwick remembered it, and soon he had a stony cootie. Flitwick also shouted that the stoner knew a thing or two about drinking. But even she was defeated by the green snake. And now she's hung over with Flitwick. And the question on my mind is, when will she be back? Or if she's coming back at all? The Headmaster, by the way, spent a long time looking for the gargoyle on the wall in the corridor opposite his office, where it was scratching out a holiday application. After all, it too is partly a living creature.
It was only natural that some of the things planned for Monday had to be postponed. There was no one to do them. And the goblins were now trying to get the bodies that had temporarily turned into goblins back on their feet. But even slapping them didn't help much.
So now I was sitting in class with a frown on my face, every loud noise made the temple bells start playing in my head, and it really hurt. What the hell have those bastards got into me?!
- You need to relax! - they said as they ran away from the fireball.
- You'll be fine, Chief! - they shouted as they ran from the small amount of water projectiles that turned into icicles as they ran. And then I don't remember what happened. Except for the inscription on the outer wall of Hogwarts: "Here were WE: the Fox, the Snake and the Cutlass!" - I hope I didn't write that. Although, who am I kidding, only I could have come up with such a stupid idea. And the most interesting thing is that nobody saw the moment when this inscription was written in Russian. Well, except Filch, but we got him a bit drunk, so he helped us write it, giggling stupidly. But it certainly wasn't me!
How did Filch end up with us? Well, we got him out of the hospital. He had to have his Wabbadgeek taken away, but that was no big deal. Some strange chickens in the yard too. And the giant was hanging around the Forbidden Forest, playing cards with Hagrid. He shouldn't have been out in the middle of the night. Filch explained:
- It's a reflex, Eek! Reflex! - and waved his newfound wand in every direction. I was beginning to wonder if the wand was a bit too much like the original, but that was not the point.
Business is temporarily delayed, but it's not fatal. The school is in trouble, but nobody knows whose. The headmaster couldn't even get the information he needed from the paintings on the walls, which were as silent as partisans. Not to mention the ghosts, who are also missing somewhere. And let's not point the finger at Flitwick, who wanted to know if ghosts could get drunk. Turns out they can. It was just that the process of turning ordinary alcohol into its spiritual counterpart took a heavy toll on their mana reserves.
And now, after everything that happened at the party, I'm sitting in Transfiguration listening to McGonagall's lecture. Do you understand my pain? No? Then you haven't suffered the worst hangover, sober gentlemen. When the lesson was over, I exhaled as relieved as I could and shuffled off to the infirmary. I'm going to sleep with our witch doctor. She'll find something to say to anyone who's interested.
Pomfrey, seeing me at the door, promptly prepared a bed for me and gave me some potions to strengthen me, which I drank and fell asleep. When I awoke, I was happy to stretch and find that my head didn't hurt, my thoughts weren't confused, and I was ashamed of what we'd done. You are adults, aren't you? I was not ashamed of what we had done as adults.
When I got up and pulled back the curtain around the bed, I saw the window and the moonlight in the night, which meant it was too late now. I crept up to one of the walls and it slid aside to reveal a hidden passageway, into which I ducked, closing the wall behind me.
To my surprise, there was no dust or cobwebs behind the wall as there had been before. Everything was clean and didn't smell musty. Surprising.
When he reached the living room of his faculty, he looked through the special observation slits and, seeing no one in the room, pushed back part of the wall and entered the living room, then closed the hidden passage and sat down in one of the chairs, sighing with relief. After thinking for a while, he used his connection to the castle to inquire about the possibility of a snack. Strangely enough, there was food on the table in front of me. A soup of smoked ribs, fresh bread, a couple of vegetable salads and pasta with a cutlet. The elves seemed to have stolen some of my cooking recipes. Or had the castle itself done it?
But my mental question remained unanswered. I started to eat, or my stomach reminded me with a long growl, and then I went back to sleep. I was only just awake, and my body was young, but I was very tired from what I had eaten, and I was too tired from the party the night before, so I fell asleep in a moment.
I woke up early so I could enjoy my bath, sit in the living room with a book in my hands and have tea with some delicious honey scones. Yummy!
Then the rest of the students got up and a mob of zombies started roaming the hall. But soon they turned into children and started banging and running and talking to someone. And I continued to sit and read Salamander's book about monsters and their habitats. Interesting, and above all, he writes with love for the creatures. The book turned out to be very entertaining.
Next was breakfast, which I skipped for obvious reasons, and a couple of Potions lessons, where Snape continued to intimidate everyone with his looks and phrases. And with just a look. After his class, it suddenly turned out that we had a broomstick flying class. We, the whole crowd, along with the Gryffindors and Slytherins and Badgers, stood on the Quidditch pitch and listened to the teacher hammering the safety rules into our heads. In front of all the students was an old, shabby flying broom. It looked like an ordinary yard broom. A wooden handle and a bundle of flexible handles at the end for sweeping.
I did not like my broom. The magical eye could see at once that it was living out its last days, for the wickerwork in it barely held and was torn in places.
While my teacher was busy drumming safety into our heads, I carefully manipulated my broom, restoring its energy path and adding new features. For example, protection against headwinds, cold and water. I also worked with the field to make this instrument of torture comfortable for all the boys to sit on. The dangers to the bells were obvious. And when my teacher finally told me to start practising with my broom, my broom was subtly transformed. It looked the same, but a completely new flying tool was caressing its energy fields towards me like a kitten. It was amazing.
As I held out my hand to call for the broom, I was surprised to find it already in my hand. Then, just as my teacher had said, I sat down on the tool and lifted myself slightly off the ground to see Longbottom of the Badgers' broom flare up with magic, scattering some of the devices inside. The next thing I knew, the guy was flying into the sky, where the raging broomstick knocked him to the ground. Before I knew it, I'd conjured up a cushion of air, then dissipated it, and the boy was on his feet, looking at himself in disbelief, in one piece and relatively unscathed. But the teacher insisted on taking the boy to Madame Pomfrey. And after warning him not to fly without her, she left with him, heading for Hogwarts.
God, I made a face. Who would leave their children near such a temptation? And so a lot of people immediately started flying their brooms, some just chatting because they weren't interested in flying, and Malfoy, who had shown that he could fly professionally before, got on his broom and picked up an object from the ground, said something to his two Boogers, who laughed at it and decided to do something with Longbottom's object. And that it was his object was obvious, for he picked it up in the very spot where the boy had fallen.
You know, I don't like taking other people's things, even lost things, so when Longbottom decided to throw the object somewhere, he simply deactivated his broom and the boy couldn't fly away. You should have seen the look on his face when his broom refused to fly. And the Gryffindors, seeing this, laughed. The blushing Malfoy dropped his broom and picked up one of the boogeymen's broomsticks to use, but that too was a pity, for the broom was still on the ground. Finally, embarrassed by Gryffindor's laughter, the boogeyman threw the object to the ground and stepped aside. Talk about the school brooms being completely broken.
When the teacher returned, we were chased around the pitch for another half hour before being sent back to our dormitories. I, however, disappeared around the bend as usual. And Mikst transported me to Gringots, where a slightly battered but perfectly adequate goblin appeared in front of me.
- Already gone? - I asked him, climbing back into my chair and resuming my work.
- Yes, Lord," he grimaced.
- Then why haven't I seen a report on the work you've done? - The goblin jumped at the sight of me and bowed his head:
- We haven't had a chance to make one yet...
- Then what are you doing here? - I shuddered, and it was as if the wind had blown the goblin away. - Lazy bastards.
After a bit of work with new ideas and notes, I was distracted by some papers on my desk. After glancing through them, I sighed with satisfaction. That's the life-giving kick! Work began immediately.
The primary contract with several Ministry of Magic employees was drawn up. A letter offering not to support an over-zealous, long-bearded old man was slipped to the Minister, and almost all of Tom Riddle's Horcruxes were already in the Ritual Room. Only the snake was a bit of a problem, as the sneaky thing was hiding somewhere and in no hurry to come out.
However, there have been some new developments. The shares in the companies in question have been bought up, leaving only a few stubborn shareholders with whom no businesslike discussion has taken place. And physical conflict is possible. I wasn't really surprised. Idiots. After all, the shares I'm buying belong to weak and almost bankrupt companies, and these last stubborn people want to raise the price for them, or they're waiting for us to make a move to improve the company's profits. Yes, right, I will do that and enrich these hypocritical moneybags who only demand but have never lifted a finger to help these companies.
There was one shareholder, however, whom I asked to be left alone. Because he was helping the company whose shares he owned to the very last. Both in money and in action. But he was not that rich, so he was now on the verge of bankruptcy himself, and so was the company he was supporting. I respected the man for what he did. Even if many people would call it idiotic. He wouldn't sell his shares to my lawyers, even at a very generous price. Anyway, a person who stays with the company to the end is quite profitable for us. So I gave the order to inject money into the company and start integrating new production, upgrading equipment and filtering out the management. Thieves should be thrown out into the street, and those who work with a clear conscience should be inspected and promoted if they are up to the task. I have also ordered that the salaries of efficient workers be increased and that scholarships be given to promising students in certain fields. Our companies will need qualified and grateful employees in the future. We will also help the young people who find it harder and harder every year to find a decent job for boys and girls with brains and professional instincts, instead of huddling behind a cash register in a cafeteria like McDonald's or KFC. Which is often the case because they and their parents just don't have the connections to get them into regular jobs. We will have a huge network of companies that will need a lot of skilled people. I think it will be a worthwhile investment.
We also looked at some of the lawsuits against our actions. Many of them were blatantly flawed, and on inspection it appeared that these plaintiffs were tied up in court and therefore requested a change of venue and judge. And if there was an attempt to bribe the witnesses and the judge, and it was successful, the goblins were ordered to bribe them to their side. I have more than enough money for that. Well, enough knowledge in my head to see that many of the lawsuits filed will end in our favour. Which means we'll even make a profit.
After giving orders to the goblins running around like pissed off goblins, I returned to the school only to be fished out of the lounge by the Head of Faculty and told that Headmaster Dumbledore wanted to see me. Strange... why would he want to see me?
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