"So, that means I'm a wizard?!" Harry exclaims in surprise and joy in his mind, lying in the hospital room.
"That's right, Harry ," the purring voice readily responded, which the boy had silently dubbed Smarty - because it was constantly talking about some extremely interesting, but at the same time very difficult things that Smarty said Harry needed to learn. "Where we used to live, people like you were called psykers."
"Isn't that a word from some sci-fi novel?" Harry wondered, frowning. Considering that he didn't really get along with his peers - thanks to Dudley - he spent a lot of his time in the school and city libraries, avidly reading any fiction that he could get his hands on and that a ten-year-old boy could understand. Mostly fantasy and science fiction, he really liked everything unusual, in spite of the Dursleys!
"Indeed, something from space fiction, he-he-he," the Smart Guy laughed for some unknown reason. "But if you don't like this word, then another term would be quite suitable – a sorcerer."
"Yeah, that sounds more respectable than wizard or weird dick or whatever you said," Harry nodded seriously, causing more laughter from Smarty. "And why were you expelled from... well, from where you came from?"
"It's a long and rather sad story, Harry ," the Smart Guy chuckled. "I'll tell it to you some other time. I'll just add that you're incredibly lucky!"
"That's true," the boy sniffed, not catching the slight irony in the Smart Guy's voice. "I could have lived like that, working for the Dursleys and enduring the beatings of that fool Dudley. But now I'll show them all!" he said sullenly.
"The time will come, Harry ," the Smarty whispered again. "Patience! Or do you want to listen to Arak... I mean, Ruffnut, and just cut off your relatives, hm?"
"N-no," Harry muttered uncertainly. He was frankly afraid of listening to Ruffnut - that's what the boy called Arak'ch. First of all, because all his proposals boiled down to one thing - bloodshed.
"That's great ," approved Smarty. "But believe me, if you listen to me exactly, you'll be able to get rid of your annoying relatives in a much safer and more sophisticated way ," he added.
At that moment, something moved in Harry's head. Something strange, not like his new spirit friends. It rustled something unintelligible, after which Harry involuntarily scratched the itchy lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
And the very next second, Harry's head was busy again, as it had been before this conversation: visions flashed through it - Smarty was thus conveying to the boy information that he needed to know exactly when he left the hospital.
Namely, instructions for some ritual. Which one, Harry didn't ask. If there was even one chance in a million that he could break away from the Dursleys and gain the power to scare away others who wanted to hurt him, he was ready to grab that chance with both hands and feet! No time for questions.
As he found out, he got to the hospital by ambulance, which was called by the same Mrs. Figg when she saw Harry fall in the middle of the sidewalk.
"That's strange," the boy suddenly thought. "Why didn't she call the bearded one this time? And by the way, who was it?" he asked Smarty.
"Good question ," he replied. "To be honest, I don't know. But most likely it was a wizard, like you."
"A wizard?!" Harry snapped. "But that means… That means other wizards know where I am?"
"Mrs. Figg is probably keeping an eye on you and reporting to that old man with the beard ," Smarty concluded. "I think they're the ones who sent you to live with the Dursleys."
"But why?!" Harry was genuinely indignant. "Couldn't they have given me to a family of the same wizards?!"
"Who knows?" Smarty asked mysteriously. "Maybe there are too many wizards already, and they were counting on the Dursleys turning you into a normal person, and therefore not becoming another competitor? Or were they planning something else? There are many options."
At one point, Harry felt like Ruffnut was about to rise from somewhere in the depths of his consciousness. He was so angry and hurt by the thought that wizards like himself had simply dumped him, like a puppy, on those disgusting Dursleys!
But then his brain began to work at an unprecedented speed, with interest going over various assumptions and options as to why it happened this way and not otherwise, what it threatened, and what it promised - and the rage of the spawn of Khorne receded.
"Wow," was all Harry could say when he'd managed to come up with five fully working versions of why he'd been sent to the Dursleys. "You did this, smartass?"
"No ," the spirit answered shortly. "I only gave your mind a little push to work. The rest is entirely your merit."
"Cool!" the boy exclaimed. "Everyone at school will be stunned!"
"The usual acceleration of the thought process ," Smart Guy whispered condescendingly. "It was created, among other things, for studying. But it's a very useful skill in other matters, too."
"What else can this… uh, warp of yours do?" Harry asked with interest.
The first thing the "spirit-advisers" told the young wizard about was the warp. They had not yet used the word "Chaos", deftly avoiding sharp corners in their explanations, focusing on the possibilities that the Immaterium opened up to those who were not afraid to turn to it.
"A lot ," replied Smarty. "Read people's minds. Make them do what you want. Kill them."
"Do we have to kill?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"Of course, not necessarily," his interlocutor answered softly. "But, you must admit, there are many people who deserve to die."
"Uh-huh," was all the boy said. He remembered Ruffnut and the scorching fountain of emotion that had bubbled up in his soul when he had dominated Harry's mind. Shaking himself, the boy tried to push the memory away.
"You can also predict the future ," the Smart Guy continued listing the possibilities of the warp.
"Wow!" the boy asked curiously. "What's that like? Like looking into a crystal ball and seeing what happens?"
"Many psykers in our home world turned to Tarot cards ," the Smart One chuckled. "But we can do without a crystal ball."
"Will you teach me?" the boy asked hopefully.
"That's not difficult ," the spirit agreed. "We still have the whole day for that. But let's start with the basics!"
Harry nodded - it was indeed time.
To be honest, he was left in the hospital for a whole day only and exclusively because the doctor who examined him insisted on it. And at the same time he looked very suspiciously at the angry Dursleys, who were forced to gallop to the hospital as the boy's only relatives, then at the rags that Harry was dressed in, then at Harry himself - a skinny, frail boy, lost against the background of fat Vernon. Although the diagnosis - overwork - could be endured at home.
Harry spent the next few hours trying to predict the flight of a fly that was circling the hospital ward, either landing on the bedside tables, or looping around the ceiling, or simply poking at the window. The Smart Guy had set the time interval he had to calculate at just ten seconds. But despite the insignificance of the predicted events and the short period of time, Harry was sweating all over before he started to get anything right!
And of course, if Smarty hadn't pushed his mind, forcing him to speed up, like at the very beginning, the young sorcerer would not have succeeded!
Using this simple example, the spirit taught Harry to see lines of probability, to single out the clearest ones, to look for their intersections and nodal points. The boy did not even suspect that predicting the future is such a complex process.
"A whole science," he thought wearily. "I thought…"
"That you can just sneak a peek at the future, like on TV?" Smart Guy snorted mockingly. "Now do you understand that it's not true? The future is constantly changing, and every moment in the present - even the most insignificant one - can change it dramatically!"
"Uh-huh," the boy nodded dully, yawning widely.
"That's it, enough studying!" another voice sounded in Harry's head, belonging to the Sweet Tooth - that's what he called the fourth spirit-adviser, a big fan of ice cream and other sweets. "Time to sleep, since such an opportunity has arisen! A soft feather bed, plenty of time - beauty! Not like in this bug-infested place under the stairs ," he snorted contemptuously.
And Harry agreed with him completely.
Needless to say, the Dursleys were extremely unhappy about the hospital episode. Vernon swore for a good half hour, accusing the "little lying malingerer" of all sorts of sins, especially of tarnishing their family's good name in the eyes of their neighbors and hospital staff. And all the other such nonsense that Harry had become accustomed to over the past few years. But, unlike all the previous times, he... wasn't afraid.
Yes, he wasn't afraid! If earlier, when his uncle and aunt were arguing, everything inside him seemed to shrink, now he remained calm. Moreover, he even had a little fun, realizing that if something happened, he could quickly put Vernon in his place.
Knowing that he could punch through a wall if necessary was a great help to his confidence. True, this ability came from Ruffnut - and so the persistent thought was beating in his head to immediately, right now, use it to ram his uncle's words back down his throat! Yes, along with his teeth and half his jaw. But, taught by Brainy, Harry chose to restrain himself. The time to put the Dursleys in their place would come.
However, when Vernon grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the door of the cupboard, Harry barely resisted the urge to give in to the persuasion of the spawn of the Lord of Battles and break something vital to his uncle. But it worked out. At the last moment, but still.
The silence and semi-darkness of the cupboard finally restored Harry's peace of mind. Moreover, he experienced something akin to inspiration! Now that he was out of sight of his relatives, the annoying and - what can I say - frightening whispers of Ruffnut died down.
But the other three of his mental interlocutors became more active. The same Sweet Tooth was already making plans for the coming night, suggesting raiding the fridge and stocking up on something tasty. And, to Harry's surprise, Smart Tooth supported him - offering options on how to hide traces of such a raid from the Dursleys. And not all of them included witchcraft!
"You don't know how to cast spells in the literal sense of the word yet ," Smart Guy suddenly said, as if answering his thoughts. "Almost anyone can predict what will happen in a couple of seconds, and the acceleration of the mind is more of a mental technique than witchcraft. So don't flatter yourself - you still have a lot to learn."
"Ugh, this tediousness again!" Sweet Tooth said capriciously. "I would prefer not to wait until night, but to go and rob the fridge right now! And the Dursleys... To hell with the Dursleys! I want ice cream!"
"Why go anywhere?" Goody, the one Smarty called "Nurgle's spawn," chimed in. "It's warm, dark, and quiet here. Why bother?"
"Ice cream!" Sweet Tooth exclaimed indignantly.
Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. The voices of the spirit advisors had appeared in his head only a little over a day ago, but he was already starting to get tired of them. No, they were very useful and funny (scary too, but still interesting and funny), but when they started talking at the same time, the boy felt like his skull was about to burst!
"You're only communicating with the four of us ," Sweet Tooth said slightly condescendingly, dropping out of the escalating argument. "But in the warp, besides us, there are trillions of spirits!"
"Trillions?" Harry stared into space, dumbfounded.
"Yeah ," replied Sweet Tooth, clearly pleased with the effect produced. "And if you want to become a powerful sorcerer, you'll have to put up with their constant whispering."
"Don't worry, Harry ," Smarty intervened, sensing the boy's confusion. "For now, all you need to do is learn the basics, nothing more. Meditation, for example. Can you meditate?"
"Uh," he said, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "Is this like what Indian yogis do on TV?"
"It's probably close to what you did when you were watching the fly in the hospital ," Smarty explained. "Sit back. Relax. Open your mind to the warp."
Although it sounded simple in words, meditating turned out to be a bit more difficult.
More precisely, it was… strange.
On the one hand, Harry almost choked with delight when waves of strange power washed over his mind! There was a feeling that he could do absolutely everything! Almost galactic power, contained almost in the tip of a finger, a multitude of different new and pleasant sensations, absolute invulnerability - that's what the stunned boy felt when he finally managed to open up to the ocean of souls.
On the other side…
On the other hand, he was constantly distracted! No, not by the Dursleys, and not by his new friends. The Immaterium itself, along with the feeling of omnipotence, prevented him from concentrating on any one feeling or subject, constantly as if "pushing him in the elbow," interfering and distracting. Harry understood what Sweet Tooth was talking about when he said that he was lucky that only the four of them talked to him on a regular basis. The Warp was inhabited. And how inhabited!
Again, as then, after his death, Harry heard them - all those hundreds and thousands of whispers, screams, groans and voices that filled the Immaterium and reached out with curiosity to the boy's brightly shining mind.
The smart guy didn't bother to clarify yet that Harry was relatively safe only because the four of them were vigilantly watching not only each other, but also the surrounding immaterial space. If they were distracted, this whole pack of spirits and demons would immediately pounce on the soul of the young wizard and tear it to shreds!
There is no need to frighten the boy ahead of time. Let him get more involved in witchcraft practices, become more interested, stir up his ambitions and appetites - then no dangers or difficulties will stop him!
And now they will do what was promised. The basics.
Summer started suddenly and surprisingly quickly passed its midpoint. However, for a person who is doing something interesting and exciting, time flies by unnoticed.
Here is Harry Potter, enthusiastically studying Chaos magic and mastering new abilities, not noticing the passage of time. What's more, he almost missed his tenth birthday!
And now, sitting in his cupboard under the stairs, Harry tried to understand: what was he really feeling on this day?
Before, he would have felt sad and lonely - I mean, much more sad and lonely than on ordinary days.
How many times had he imagined how his birthday would have been if his parents were alive? Cake, candles, firecrackers, sweets...
And the parents themselves. Mom and Dad. Loving him and understanding him, laughing with him at the antics of the invited clown and setting off fireworks.
Of course, on this birthday, everything was a little different - after all, he was no longer alone. Even if his friends were a little strange... Well, okay - they were very strange! But he still had them.
And now one of them was present in his head, listening attentively and comforting.
"You see, Kindly One," Harry said quietly, this time deciding to say the words out loud – fortunately, no one else could hear him here. "I never had any friends. Anyone who tried to befriend me was immediately hounded by Dudley and his friends. It was so stupid and offensive that in the first year of school all I did was cry in the toilet! And then," he thought, "then I just got used to it. Alone. All the time alone…" He buried his nose in his knees and sighed heavily.
"Poor boy ," Dobryak answered him sadly. "So much pain and loneliness... But don't worry!" he added cheerfully. "Now you will never be alone! I don't know about the others, but I promise you: I will always stay with you and take care of you, Harry!"
"Thank you, Dobryak," the boy rubbed his dry eyes and sniffed. "You know, you really are the kindest of your company."
"Oh, I'm going to be embarrassed now ," the spirit even chuckled. "But in general, all of Grandfather Nurgle's subjects are like that. After all, He loves and understands everyone, no matter how lonely, stupid or ugly they are!"
Harry just nodded at this. He had already heard about the patron gods of each of his new friends. And, it must be said, he liked these stories!
Nurgle, according to Dobryak's descriptions, was also kind and understanding - it was not for nothing that he was called by the nickname Grandfather. Harry did not quite understand the part of the spirit's reasoning where he spoke about how there was much in this world that should not be feared, and about how many curses could turn into blessings, but overall, Dobryak's God seemed like a good guy to the boy.
Sweet Tooth spoke with delight about Slaanesh - the ideal and perfect Lord of Pleasure. Any desire, any whim, anything! You only have to wish - and the Dark Prince will fulfill the desire of the one who attracted his attention. To be honest, Harry liked this God the most so far.
Smarty told him about Tzeentch, the Architect of Fates. He was, it must be said, the most incomprehensible of all the Chaos Gods - that's what they called themselves. Tzeentch, as Harry understood, was a match for Smarty - also damn smart, dexterous and cunning, and he could do magic just as well. More precisely, for Harry, the ability to do magic was the most important thing on this list! After all, it was Tzeentch who patronized magic and magicians - which meant he could teach a novice sorcerer everything he wanted to know.
Bully, when he wasn't trying to break loose and rush to kill someone, could also tell about his stern patron, the Blood God Khorne. He said that if Harry didn't want to remain a weakling, bullied by everyone, he would have to become strong. And magic alone wouldn't do - he had to become strong in all aspects! But most importantly, Harry had to learn to respond with blow for blow, with all the fury he was capable of.
Zabiyaka, by the way, was becoming an increasingly big problem. First of all, because he was the only one of the four spirit-advisers who constantly demanded action, and often very, very dangerous action.
What can I say! He was constantly demanding that someone be killed. Vernon, Petunia, Dudley, Mrs. Figg, all the neighbors and every passerby - in short, any person he met who dared to cause even the slightest irritation to Harry. And the young wizard began to realize with horror that one day he might break down and follow Ruffnut's advice!
And so, on the advice of Smart Guy, he began to "let off steam," as he called it. That is, he got up as early as possible and went for a run in the cool air – to get some fresh air, so to speak. After which he stopped at the nearest playground with horizontal bars and did a series of physical exercises.
Oddly enough, this satisfied the aggressive spawn of Khorne. Temporarily, Harry suspected, but it was still bread. Moreover, Ruffnut even redirected his anger to training the boy, telling him what to do and shouting at him when he thought he was slacking off.
But even so, over the past three months, it was unlikely that it would have been possible to pull himself up as much as Harry had done with just exercise. He had grown almost a head taller, his shoulders had broadened, ceasing to be the small, skinny runt he had been before the four voices had started to sound in his head. The power of Chaos, sensing a loophole in the previously closed world, was actively pouring into the body of its future Champion, building on and improving it under the watchful eye of the four demons.
But Harry didn't think much about it. But the Dursleys did.
For example, Dudley almost completely stopped bullying his cousin. At least in private and especially outside the house - on the street, with the help of his friends, he sometimes managed to catch Potter, after which Harry was forced to run away.
Not because he couldn't fight back now. On the contrary, because he could! And he was very afraid that at the decisive moment he would lose control and give in to the furious roar of the Bully, who demanded that Dudley's entire company be killed and dismembered, and then their guts hung on the surrounding fences.
In addition to magic lessons from Smarty, conversations with Kindy and physical education under the guidance of Ruffnut, Harry developed another hobby. As you can imagine, it was inspired by Sweet Tooth. And, of course, it was sweets!
Every night, long after midnight, when the Dursleys were already dreaming their tenth dream, an ominous crimson flame would flare up for a moment behind the closed door of the cupboard under the stairs, and a faint smell of ozone would spread through the hallway. Then the outer latch of the cupboard would open, releasing the figure of a boy who would slip like a silent shadow into the kitchen and gut the refrigerator.
At first, Harry was very worried that the Dursleys would notice - after all, it was hard not to notice that half of Dudley's birthday cake had a large chunk missing. Or that Petunia's package of cakes had been savagely opened and a couple of eclairs were missing.
But then Smarty intervened, offering Harry a brilliant idea: to send his relatives on a false trail!
That's why, after the kitchen, Harry usually carried his loot into his closet, after which he would quietly climb up to the second floor and enter his cousin's bedroom.
It was very funny to watch Petunia look puzzledly from the torn package of eclairs to Dudley's face, smeared with cream. For a moment she glanced suspiciously at her nephew, but then shook her head and decided to assume that her beloved son had simply decided to have a snack at night. He hadn't had enough, apparently - which meant he needed to be fed twice as much!
But Harry realized that this couldn't go on for long - one day his adventures would be noticed and he would get into serious trouble! Because he definitely couldn't open the cupboard without supernatural powers - which meant that his relatives would probably get mad again because of his "abnormality".
It was necessary to figure out where to find a new source of sweets - and preferably something new, besides the boring fatty cakes, donuts and eclairs.
Harry hated the idea of stealing, even though Smarty didn't see anything wrong with it. As he said, it was a great way to hone his skills.
Well, that was a much better option than Ruffnut's suggestion to just stab someone and take what they needed. Although, to Harry's surprise, he didn't immediately discard that idea either.
However, in any case, the time will soon come to "go out into the world," as Sweet Tooth called it — namely, to sneak out of the house at night to perform the first witchcraft ritual in Harry's life! The smart guy's efforts were not in vain — all the details of this action were already "downloaded" into the boy's mind.
The only thing that bothered him the most about the upcoming task was the sacrifice. No, of course, he did not feel any particular sympathy for Mrs. Figg's cats - and it was one of them that was planned to be sacrificed to the creatures of the warp. Yes, it was not a person, but still...
Harry shuddered as he remembered the picture that Smarty had sent him - namely, a vision of a similar ritual, only using a human sacrifice. Not for the faint of heart! So he had to thank the Gods of the boy's new friends that they weren't demanding something like that from him yet. Well, a cat - so what? Mrs. Figg would buy herself another one. And Harry would get a real magical artifact as a result! Just like in fantasy books!
Artifact. This is what he was going to do what he was planning. Namely, a ritual dagger. According to Smarty, "a sorcerer without a dagger is like a man without a penis! Or like a weak imperial telepath, which is basically the same thing."
Harry frowned. He was, of course, still too young to understand why a penis was so important for his gender, but nevertheless, it was not very comfortable to imagine himself without such an integral part of the body. So he understood and accepted the allegory of the Smart Guy. And oh, how he wanted to get a powerful magical artifact!
So he resigned himself to the idea that the poor purr was doomed. After all, it was for a good cause - well, for Harry it was. But for Dudley and his gang and the other bad guys - not so much.
"Night X" came almost two weeks after Harry's birthday. By that time, all the preparations had been completed: the necessary materials, ropes, chalk, some herbs from the pharmacy and his aunt's supplies had been collected, and a quiet place had been found where no one would disturb him.
The last thing that went into the light backpack that Harry had hidden especially for his foray was a blank for a dagger - a camping knife stolen from the tourist section of the nearest supermarket.
And yes, Harry did stoop to a banal theft. After all, the boy reasoned, if he was going to sacrifice a living creature, then theft seemed like a minor offense. And technically, it turned out to be very easy to pull off: he had already learned to predict events about a minute in advance with sufficient accuracy, and also to look away for a few seconds - that was enough*.
He could hardly wait for the night, even though the same Smarty tried to keep the boy busy in every way possible, including drawing Chaos runes on a piece of leather that Harry found in Uncle Vernon's garage. Sweety grumbled strangely about the leather being old and taken from a dead animal, so it didn't "sing" at all, but the boy didn't listen to him, concentrating on drawing the runes correctly. According to Smarty, the slightest mistake in drawing these signs using the power of Chaos could have very unpleasant consequences. From a banal failure of the spell to a powerful warp explosion!
But Harry was still nervous. Not only was he planning to sneak out of the Dursleys' house in the middle of the night, but he also had to lure and catch his neighbor's cat, then take it to the other end of town and slaughter it! Despite the obvious anticipation that beamed from his four companions, Harry himself felt more nervous than excited.
And now the time has come! Having checked the contents of the backpack for the last time, the boy made a practiced gesture with his hand, scooping up a grain of power from the warp. The familiar smell of ozone hit his nose, and his fingers were enveloped in an otherworldly glow for a moment - and the closet door opened.
Having wisely locked the door behind him, Harry moved into the living room. Repeating the manipulations with the warp and opening the wide window leading to the garden, he darted like a light shadow to the fence separating the Dursleys' plot from Mrs. Figg's garden.
The most difficult part of the planned action was yet to come, namely, catching the cat. However, after the vision that appeared at his death and some assumptions of the spirit-advisers, Harry doubted that Mrs. Figg's pets were ordinary cats, and she herself was an ordinary lonely cat lady. Which, however, only complicated his task.
Jumping over the fence was not difficult: Harry had not complained about his agility even before meeting the four spirits - after all, since the age of seven he had done nothing but run obstacles, escaping from Dudley's gang. And now, with his body strengthened by Chaos, he would probably be able to jump over this fence right from the ground! True, he did not know this, and therefore used a more traditional method - that is, he jumped up and grabbed the edge of the fence, then pulled himself up and jumped over it.
Once on the other side, Harry looked around. As far as he remembered, Mrs. Figg's cats made no distinction between night and day, wandering here and there at any time of day. All that was left was to find one of them and…
"Purr?" came from right next to Harry, within arm's reach.
"Even the beast runs to the hunter ," the Smart Guy's voice said contentedly in his head.
Carefully, so as not to scare him, Harry spread his arms to the side and quietly said:
- I'm leaving now. There's no need to call Mrs. Figg, really!
The cat, as it seemed to the boy, raised an eyebrow in an ironic gesture - but Harry could have imagined it. However, it didn't matter to him - the main thing was that the harmful animal didn't think of calling its owner or other cats! And how this creature grimaces didn't matter. All the same, these were the last grimaces in its petty life.
The cat didn't even have time to meow before Harry, who had been squatting until then, suddenly darted forward, simultaneously clamping the cat's mouth and squeezing the spot on his neck that Smarty had suggested.
The cat tried to scream, but Harry held him tight! And then the animal's eyes rolled back and it went limp.
"Cool!" the boy was sincerely delighted. "What, now I can do this too?"
"You can do so much more if you stop whining and speed up!" Bully snapped. "These three weaklings are too much of an influence on you! Pull yourself together!"
Harry just nodded briefly and, picking up the limp body of the cat, retreated away from Mrs. Figg's area.
Later, in the place he had chosen, in the backyard of an empty house that was up for sale, he looked for the last time at the figure drawn in chalk on the asphalt.
— Finish drawing here... and here... — he slightly corrected the runes he had drawn, which suddenly gave him a wave of approval from Sweet Tooth, who mentally sent him an image of a thumb sticking up. — Um... thanks.
"You're welcome!" the spirit chuckled. "To be honest, I'm really glad we met, Harry. You're going to be a great perfectionist! I approve."
"First-timer… what?!" Potter blushed, even choking.
He had heard Uncle Vernon use the swear word in reference to some customer of his who wanted everything in his order to be perfect.
"You are so naive and sweet, Harry ," laughed Sweet Tooth. "But my phrase was not a swear word – I only indicated that you and I will become great friends in the future!"
"I'd like to," Harry nodded seriously, adding a couple more clarifying strokes to the drawn figure, consisting of a broken star, several circles and a bunch of Chaos runes. "It's done!"
"Well, if you're done with extraneous conversations, then let's begin ," Smart Guy said a little bitterly. "Victim!"
Harry placed Mrs. Figg's cat in the center of the figure. Interestingly, the cat did not try to resist, although it was conscious. Its intelligent blue eyes stared at the boy, as if…
Begging? Asking?
Harry shook his head. It was just a cat. Well… a really big, strange-looking cat. An animal. They weren't something to be pitied. At least not like people.
He began to chant in a strange, broken language that the Smart Guy had implanted in his mind. Eerie, vibrating sounds floated in the silence of the empty lot, making reality itself tremble and the runes on the asphalt glow with an otherworldly light!
Here the strange cat began to kick! But it didn't help him much - with the first words of the terrible spell, the ropes with which he was tied also began to glow, turning into something like thorny vines or barbed wire, pressing the cat to the ground.
Harry swallowed, feeling the hair on his head start to move. He really wanted to drop everything and run, run as fast as he could! Not even because he was scared of some glowing vines, no. Rather, he suddenly realized that if he continued, there would be no turning back!
"Your mum and dad weren't drug addicts or alcoholics ," Kindly said suddenly. Harry froze in surprise. "You can tell that without even using mind reading or fortune telling. They were probably wizards too - and they probably died of magical causes too."
Harry froze, clutching the stolen camping knife, his hand shaking with tension, sweat pouring down his forehead.
"And now imagine that they came to you now ," continued the Good Man. " And they would ask: Harry, why are you unhappy? Why are you weak? Why do you reject the gifts of those who, for once, offer you to become your Family? What will you answer them, Harry?"
Harry himself was kneeling over the cat struggling in the bonds of thorny vines and breathing convulsively. He himself did not understand at what moment the voice of the Good Man merged with the voices of his other spirit-advisers and vibrated with new strength:
"We will be your family, Harry Potter! We will give you what you so desire! We will make you into what you always wanted to be! Do what must be done! A tiny step for mankind, but a giant step for you!"
Taking a few sharp breaths, Harry suddenly… relaxed. Then he exhaled calmly and opened his eyes.
After which, with a calm and precise movement, he opened the belly of the cat lying in front of him and plunged his fingers into the pulsating intestines, ignoring the screams of fierce pain.
Harry Potter made his choice.
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