Fred and George were eagerly awaiting their guest. The moment the door closed behind Richard, Fred said:
"Good afternoon, my Lord. If this is about a new invention, I'm afraid we haven't got anything ready yet."
"Greetings, gentlemen."
Richard gave the twins a polite bow.
"Fred, where are our manners?" George said. "Good afternoon, great and incomparable Earl."
"Oh, quite right!" Fred exclaimed, throwing up his hands dramatically. "Welcome to our laboratory."
"Gentlemen…" Richard's gaze swept across the room before briefly settling on a cauldron bubbling over the fire. A bluish liquid simmered inside it. "Please forgive my sudden visit. I have a confidential matter of the utmost importance to discuss with you."
"Yes, yes," Fred said, staring at Richard with curiosity.
"Gentlemen, this is an extremely dangerous matter. Are you prepared to take risks?"
"Richard, just spit it out already," George said, practically burning with curiosity.
"Gentlemen, on the fifth of June, after lunch, two individuals must be… removed for several hours: Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape."
"Removed?!" George asked in horror.
"Removed the professors?!" Fred asked in delight.
"Temporarily, gentlemen. Temporarily! They must be incapable of patrolling for roughly three to five hours — longer would be even better. Can you handle that?"
"Well…" George drawled thoughtfully, adopting a deeply contemplative expression. "That's complicated. And honestly rather large-scale and dangerous."
"The price of the matter…" Fred added.
"An excellent question, gentlemen." Richard smiled, realising that the moment money entered the discussion, the twins were already halfway convinced. "One thousand Galleons. And if, by some unfortunate chance, you are caught and severely punished, I shall compensate you for your troubles. Though I would very much prefer that you not get caught."
The twins exchanged glances and stared at one another for several long moments. Then broad grins spread across their faces. Turning back to Richard in perfect unison, they declared:
"We agree!"
"This will be the prank of the century," Fred added.
"Oh yes, brother," George agreed enthusiastically.
"Splendid, gentlemen. This is the advance payment."
A pouch containing three hundred gold coins passed from hand to hand. Richie then offered another courteous bow.
"I shall not dare steal any more of your valuable time, gentlemen. Good day to you. I sincerely hope everything succeeds. The remainder of the payment will follow once the 'joke' is complete."
***
Time raced onward at an ever-increasing pace. Richard buried himself completely in the study of magic. Once again, he devoted most of his attention to perfecting Transfiguration spells, polishing them until they bordered on flawless. At the same time, as before, he continued spending part of his time duplicating precious metals, since earning money while confined to Hogwarts was otherwise rather difficult.
Of course, his assets continued to grow steadily, though they occasionally delivered unpleasant surprises. For example, during the autumn, Nokia shares had nearly halved in value, only to recover almost entirely by the end of December. Naturally, this irritated Richard immensely. Had he known Nokia stock would plummet so dramatically in October, he would never have purchased it in September. Technically he had lost nothing — and yet he could have earned something in the range of ten million dollars.
Spring arrived, though snow still blanketed the grounds outside. Only by April did it finally begin to melt, allowing nature to awaken. From the castle windows, one could see buds swelling upon the trees and fresh grass forcing its way towards the sunlight.
On the third of April, Richie was returning from supper in the Great Hall to the Hufflepuff dormitories alongside Justin. Near the barrels guarding the entrance, the boys discovered a lone Gryffindor student waiting there.
"Hermione, hello," Justin greeted her with a wave.
"Good evening, Hermione," Richard said. "Were you waiting for me?"
"Hello, Justin. Richie," Granger replied. "Richie, I found what you asked about."
"Wonderful." The younger Grosvenor's lips curled into a delighted smile.
"What did you find?" Finch-Fletchley asked curiously.
"Justin, Hermione has been researching historical chronicles," Richard answered smoothly. "If you're interested in the history of magic, you're welcome to join us and hear what my good friend has discovered."
"History of Magic?" Justin repeated in the tone one might reserve for discussing something truly dreadful. He visibly shuddered before saying, "No thanks, you can count me out. Binns is already more than enough for me."
"Professor Binns," Hermione corrected automatically.
"Exactly," Justin replied. "That unbearably dull ghost professor. I'd rather go play Exploding Snap with the lads."
"Best of luck with the match," Richard told his friend. "Hermione, the weather is lovely today. How would you feel about taking a stroll in the fresh air? They say the lake possesses an incredible charm at this time of year."
"With pleasure," Hermione replied, smiling with a surprisingly grown-up air.
On the way outside, Hermione looked ready to burst from the effort of restraining herself. She kept up a conversation about lessons, though without her usual enthusiasm — ordinarily she could discuss schoolwork endlessly.
The moment the pair of first-years stepped out into the open air and reached a secluded stretch of grounds with no one nearby, Granger blurted out:
"Richie, I found everything!"
"Everything?"
"Yes, everything! Both an image of the Philosopher's Stone and the recipe for creating it."
Richard froze dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned his head towards Hermione. At that moment, it seemed as though the boy's neck had been carved from wood, creaking like the axle of an ungreased cartwheel. A mask of utter astonishment settled across his face: eyes bulging, mouth slightly open, brows raised high.
"The recipe for creating the Philosopher's Stone?!" he croaked.
"Yes, yes!" Hermione nodded energetically. "The book was written by Nicolas Flamel himself in the seventeenth century. It's called Mutus Liber."
"THE RECIPE FOR CREATING THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE?!" Richard repeated even louder, utterly dumbfounded, his eyes somehow widening further despite seeming physically incapable of doing so. "IN THE SCHOOL LIBRARY?!"
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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