"What does that have to do with you being a wizard?" Tom looked kindly at Lockhart. At that moment, the island's guard personnel also noticed the presence of the two uninvited visitors and quickly approached Tom.
Tom observed the guards and realized they were the armed force under Yuri's command. Although they wore prison guard uniforms, they couldn't hide their military demeanor.
When the leader of the guards opened his mouth to speak, Tom became even more assured. The man spoke with a heavy accent, and though he was speaking in English, there was a touch of Russian in his tone.
"I'm a friend of Mr. Yuri. He should have mentioned my name, Tom Yodel."
Indeed, Yuri had talked to them about Tom. When they heard the name Tom Yodel, everyone present became serious. They lined up and stood in formation, saluting Tom.
"Mr. Yuri instructed us to obey your orders when you came here." The leader of the guards informed Tom that Yuri had left instructions for all prison employees to obey Tom's orders.
"We will follow your orders, no matter what they are," the prison guard said seriously to Tom.
He meant it, as Yuri had a meticulous recruitment process for his followers. He only recruited married fighters, and having children was a plus. He brought these people and their families from the countries of the now-defunct Soviet Union to England, where he accommodated them and provided work and education for their spouses and children. In return, these people with exceptional combat skills worked for him. This method of employment made Yuri's followers highly competent.
Of course, the downside was that it was very costly, but fortunately, the industry Yuri was involved in had surprisingly high profit margins, so he could afford it.
Now it was time for Tom to enjoy the benefits of Yuri.
"Besides the guards, is all the necessary staff on the island complete? By the way, what's your name?" Tom began to inquire about the situation in the prison.
"Peter Bortnikov, call me Peter."
Peter? That name immediately caught Tom's attention. He looked at Peter Bortnikov in front of him and realized he was tall and strong, with thick hair. He was the complete opposite of Peter Pettigrew. Tom couldn't help but feel relieved. After all, it was just a name. Even he called himself Tom and still had a straight nose and abundant hair, right?
Soon, Tom learned from Peter, the captain of the guards, that the White Dolphin prison was already ready. Doctors, nurses, cooks, and other staff members had been recruited and were ready to receive prisoners at any time.
"Excellent!" Yuri's efficiency was amazing, considering he was English. Tom was very satisfied. Although the Dementors weren't pressuring him to fulfill his promise, keeping them waiting wasn't a good thing.
"So, when will the prisoners be transferred here?"
"They will begin transferring on January 1st."
"Very well."
As they walked, Tom chatted with Peter. However, he noticed something strange when he met other prison staff members: they all had a touch of Soviet flavor.
For example, the robust cook who wore a white headscarf and a white apron seemed to have jumped straight from a collective farm. She held a giant spoon and mixed something in a huge cauldron half a person tall, from which an acidic aroma emanated along with steam.
"She's Aunt Sofia. Her borscht and pelmeni will make you wish you could swallow your tongue," Peter enthusiastically introduced Tom to the head chef, or should we say, the chef. Then, he looked at Aunt Sofia and engaged in a brief conversation with her in Russian.
"... Британская еда - ерунда!" ("British food is rubbish!")
Tom didn't understand a word of the conversation between the two. He only heard one phrase at the end: "Vedanskaya, Yelonda!"
Peter didn't bother to translate it.
After their exchange, Peter looked at Tom.
"Today's lunch will be solyanka soup with meat skewers and bread." When he heard the lunch items, Peter seemed very excited. He enthusiastically introduced Tom to the special Russian dish: solyanka soup.
Solyanka soup was a thick dish that could be eaten as a stew, made with various types of meat and vegetables boiled together.
"Beef, sausage, bacon, and ham, letting them meld wonderfully with cabbage, potatoes, green onion, and carrot. The acidic taste comes from the pickles and lemon slices, all made by Aunt Sofia herself."
Sounds quite good. Most Russian dishes have a rustic and hearty touch; they may not look as refined, but they are very hearty and delicious. Perhaps that's the common characteristic of all dishes from cold regions of the world: abundance, robustness, and served piping hot.
As for the roast meat, they weren't those thin skewers but super-sized meat skewers the size of an adult forearm. They could almost skewer a kilo of meat on one stick, with just a bit of salt and cumin for seasoning.
Tom was captivated by the description. Aren't they tastier than turkey sandwiches?
However, this prison always seemed a bit peculiar to Tom. He looked at the Slavic cook in front of him and then at the prison cafeteria's decor style, and suddenly, he realized.
"Is it a bit... too Soviet here?" Tom found something discordant: this prison had too much of a Soviet touch. If it weren't for the sea breeze coming in from outside, he would really feel like he was in the Siberian steppe.
For those who knew, it was a British subcontracted prison; for those who didn't, it was a secret Russian base!
Peter understood suddenly. "It doesn't matter; Mr. Yuri has influence with the Cabinet Secretary; everything here is within reasonable limits."
Tom raised his eyebrows; indeed, everyone involved in Yuri's affairs had followers behind them.
"Alright, if everything is in order, then I'm at ease. Let's taste Aunt Sofia's skills." Tom invited Peter and Lockhart to sit together, and each of them took a bowl of solyanka soup, a lamb skewer, and some slices of whole-grain bread.
The soup was thick and had an acidic flavor that paired perfectly with the bread. The roasted lamb meat, juicy and full of oil, had an excellent texture. It only needed a bit of salt and cumin to enhance its natural flavor.
"Very tasty," Tom said as he finished a large bowl of solyanka soup and a long lamb skewer. "Pack me a portion to go."
He thought of Hermione, who was alone at home writing her essay and nibbling on a turkey sandwich; she deserved some compassion. After all, delicious food is meant to be shared! So he decided to take her a portion to taste.
They finished lunch, and everyone enjoyed the gathering. Lockhart also sat quietly on the side, behaving very well. But his good behavior couldn't free him from his fate.