Things are quite amusing. Why am I saying this? Well, there is such a spontaneous desire to eat something, for example. The brain just took and built associations that led it to some food, fast food or something similar. And that's it, the thought of some yummy will itch in the mind until you buy it, and there—at least the grass does not grow.
In general, wizards have a very difficult situation with this area of trade and service—fast food and street food do not exist here as classes, and unless at the Quidditch World Cup Final there was something similar. But even that, it seems to me, there were tents with various food only because of the very fact of the existence of the tent camp and the fact that many guests were visitors who did not have access to food. But on Diagon Alley such a problem as lack of access to food was not observed, and you can go home quite quickly if something happens. The same Leaky Cauldron, by the way, can please with tasty and hearty food, albeit without restaurant delights, while the price tag will be damn low. Maybe that's why such a contingent gathers there? On the lower, so to speak, social bar.
What I'm getting at—had to walk a little around the center of London, fortunately the concept of "center" for this city is extremely extensible, and the Leaky Cauldron itself is located in the zone of this very "extensible center". Having picked up all sorts of different incomprehensible, but clearly quite high-quality crap in the few street food points working at this time—not to be confused with fast food—holding a glass of cola in my hand, I, hidden by magic, Apparated to Grimmauld Place.
Now, when the sky was painted with the red colors of the sunset, when street lighting had not yet started working, and natural sources became insufficient, even gloomier houses in this area became even more oppressive, and only the light in some windows drove away the feeling of abandonment and some heavy hopelessness, as if watching a post-apocalypse movie. Okay, I'm exaggerating, but this area definitely wouldn't hurt to be ennobled a little, or a little more, and it will turn out to be a ghetto—for the complete picture it remains only to bring a couple of gangs of all sorts of "nigga", drinking teenagers, graffiti and a noisy plump mother of many children-nigga, who will tell about life with characteristic intonations and shaking her head... Although, one noisy mother of many children with a plump physique is now hiding in one of the houses...
Smiling at associations, sat on a bench in the park zone, across the road from house "twelve", unfolding the first yummy. Something Chinese, meaty, spicy and a little hot... I know exactly that I used to remember the name, but not now—where this memory should be, where associations lead, there is nothing. Will need to find out next time I wander around London idly—such obvious gaps, albeit useless, are a little annoying.
Having dealt with the product of Chinese fast food, got to the next point from the purchased ones—a classic of the genre, fish and chips. Remember, in a past life, one acquaintance of mine ate my brain out, telling about his trips to England. Well, I answered him the same, only about the USA. In general, one of the points in his classic program "fuck everyone's brain" was this classic of London, and generally English fast food—fish in batter, french fries and sauce. Everyone who comes to London is simply obliged to pay tribute to this simple, but quite pleasant food. The main thing is that the products are fresh.
Having dealt with the food, threw the garbage into the urn standing nearby, and taking a bag with a couple more pieces, went to Sirius's house.
Crossing the threshold and finding myself again in this gloomy dark place, which has seen more than one or two generations of wizards and is literally saturated with magic, I heard a quiet polyphony of disputes somewhere there, further down the corridor, probably from the living room that the Headmaster asked to prepare.
Walking along the corridor to a small central hall and glancing at the still curtained "something", approached the stairs and at that very moment I was noticed in the hall at the end of the corridor—the doors were open. It was hard to see what exactly this hall represented, a living room, or what is there at all, but a piece of a table was visible, large and round. Well or at least oval. Several wizards were sitting behind it, and I even knew a couple of those whom I could see from this point—Professor Moody, Sirius Black, the Auror girl with colored hair seen by me earlier. They were sitting facing me and, of course, it was they who saw me.
Smiling, saluted them with a glass of cola and went upstairs to my room. But I didn't have time to pass even one flight of stairs when Mrs. Weasley caught up with me.
"Hector, dear," she looked a little worried, but at the same time felt relief. "Did you leave the house?"
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. Is something wrong with that?"
"It's our fault that we didn't explain safety precautions immediately," Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Before leaving the house, you need to ask someone to cast Muggle-Repelling, and ideally Disillusionment Charms for five-ten minutes to have time to move away from the house."
"Such hefty security measures, as if you expect surveillance."
I went down to catch up with Mrs. Weasley.
"Don't worry, I know these charms and use them constantly."
"Really?" obvious doubt sounded in her voice, because these charms in a basic, simplest and not the highest quality version are taught in the seventh year.
"Of course," I nodded, took the glass of cola in my left hand and, taking out the wand, made the necessary gesture as if by the textbook, touching the tip of the wand to my head.
Literally a second went to become completely invisible. Honestly, I didn't particularly like these charms—from the moment of their application to full activation they caused quite specific physical sensations, as if you are poured over with jelly, and it envelops you completely.
"Oh, wonderful execution," Mrs. Weasley praised me, and her gaze looked behind me, which is not surprising—vision lost the point for focus, but not the direction.
Canceling the charms, I became visible again.
"Well and Muggle-Repelling I also know. And a couple more."
"Can only praise," Mrs. Weasley touched my elbow in a motherly way. "But also want to ask—why did you spend so much time mastering these charms? Don't get me wrong... At your age, boys usually, if it comes to charms and spells, pay more attention to various dueling directions, or just insignificant, but offensive pranks to annoy the opponent properly..."
"With this I also have no problems."
"Well okay. You know and apply these charms, so, think, there will be no problems. Just don't forget to apply them."
"Of course, Mrs. Weasley," I smiled and, seeing that the conversation was over, went to my room upstairs.
Putting the bag with food on the table and throwing simple household preservation charms on it, changed into home clothes and thought about a simple thing—need to improve the degree of privacy of this room a little. Mainly because of the twins. It is no secret to anyone that their restlessness and curiosity are simply phenomenal, which means they can stick their nose where they are not asked. Would like to avoid this.
Didn't have to invent anything for long—there is a simple runic complex that does not allow entering the room without the owner's permission. Yes, it is easily pushed through and, for the most part, is a kind of alarm, but this is exactly what I need, because I won't put full protection against penetration for two reasons: I don't know it; it is unknown how it will interact with other magic in the house, and there is a lot of it here. And having thought a little longer, realized that in my absence the twins or someone else still won't find anything, since I take everything with me. Well and when I'm here—such measures are enough in case of an unexpected visit without warning.
Nodding to my thoughts, approached the door jamb and ran my hand over it. Strange. Something is under it, or rather—on the reverse side of the architraves, or what is it? How are doors organized here? Unlikely the technology differs much from the one known to me.
Applying a little magic and catching exactly how it forms, felt exactly the same runic complex that I wanted to put myself. It seems the past mistress of the room also suffered from mild paranoia. Let Bellatrix draw the runes, or someone before her, but now they have long lost connection with the creator due to the long absence of contact with her. Waving the wand, I disconnected the architrave from the rest of the structure and put it on the floor. Indeed, runes are carved on the reverse side. Would be good to update them—their structure has spoiled a little from time.
With a simple spell for wood carving—it is from the same opera as Diffindo for fabric—I diligently restored the runes, but this is not all yet. Conjured a glass, a little water and dripped a drop of blood. Not the most popular, and generally not approved method of binding runes to a person. Conjuring a brush, dipped into the resulting slurry and carefully, with filigree precision, saturated the runes.
Getting rid of the solution with the help of Evanesco, dispelled other products of magical activity, saturated the runes with magic and installed the architrave in its proper place. Fixing the entire structure with a couple of household spells, stepped back a step and nodded satisfied—seems to work. No, no visual manifestations are observed, but if someone tries to enter the room without permission, it will seem as if they bump into soft jelly that does not allow moving further, and I will receive a semblance of a mental signal about penetration. I will only need to give permission to enter, with words or thought—here it depends on the degree of control of one's thoughts and the ability to direct them to the right address, so to speak.
Now can get to work.
At first there was a thought to prepare for the upcoming operation to liquidate the dark curse on some land there, but how can one prepare for what one knows nothing about? Correct—no way. And therefore I decided to do a completely different thing—forging all sorts of amulets by Cedric's order.
The bed in the room stood so that it covered a small patch of space by the window. As if at a distance from the window. That's where I headed, placing myself on the floor with all my gadgets for forging. Unfolding a rather long list, opposite many points of which were numbers with the required number of amulets, sometimes exceeding five dozen, I got down to work.
Generally, amulets in the order were required quite simple. For example, a permanent "waterproof"—water-repelling amulet. Or here, an amulet that will not let any dirt and dust stick. One of the tops was an amulet protecting from ash when moving through the fireplace. Here I even smiled, because this is really a necessary thing. Personally I don't get dirty only due to sensitivity to magic, which allows appearing in the fireplace simply perfectly, without unnecessary flashes and other things. And so, yes, moving through the Floo Network can decently stain a negligent wizard, and constantly cleaning oneself, or somehow otherwise contriving, and if also clothes are some special ones requiring careful attitude, or some other difficulties... In general, here too nothing particularly difficult—pour two spells into the nozzle for the anvil, keep them from dissipating and activation, and forge...
One of the most popular requests—a glowing amulet. Need two types—just Lumos, and Lumos Solem.
Nothing supernatural, and my technology is the same for everyone. Need only to fantasize a little about the shape of the pendants so that it at least remotely conveys the essence of the function.
Spending almost three hours, I transfigured and forged to the limit—completed only a quarter of the order. Judging by the fact that no one appeared to check what I was doing, soundproofing in the room is really present, although I could say this without experiments—various neutral charms that gained strength upon my settlement were felt.
Making sketches of pendants and signing which functions correspond to each of them, I put the finished products and my tools in the backpack. The time outside is already late, eleventh hour, which means it's time to prepare for sleep, which I did. But I didn't have time to really settle in bed when an already familiar owl knocked on the window. Opening the window, I took the letter, and the owl immediately flew away—means an answer is not required.
In the envelope was a note and another smaller envelope, the inscription on which read: "Portkey. Activation at ten past noon on July seventh". In the note was short information on the land. Small area, located inside a large spatial lacuna, a kind of pocket where there are also other possessions. Neither the type of curse, nor anything really useful, except that it is tied to the land in the literal sense of the word. Well... Will think.
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