"Come in, Alastor," Dumbledore waved his hand, opening the fireplace, and a moment later the dark wizard emerged from the green flames.
"How is your health?" smiled the great light wizard. "I heard you were roughed up by werewolves?"
"No werewolf has yet been born who can defeat me in battle," the dark wizard replied with a smirk, sitting down in an armchair.
"Why did you call me, Albus?" he pressed Dumbledore for an answer. "You know I don't like beating around the bush."
Dumbledore just sighed:
"Tell me, Alastor," he asked, looking intently at his companion through his half-glasses. "Didn't you find it strange that some werewolves and a few wizards were able to destroy five experienced Aurors from a special unit, wipe out an entire Auror office in Gloucester, free the werewolves, and get away? And at the same time, they almost sent you to Merlin?"
"I recognised the handwriting of those wizards," Moody growled angrily. "It was one of the Death Eaters.
"Why do you see Death Eaters everywhere?" Dumbledore folded his hands on the table in exasperation. "You put them all in Azkaban yourself, didn't you?
"All of them, but not all," the dark wizard twisted his lips. "Malfoy and his friends are still at large. They pretend to be respectable gentlemen. The Malfoys have always had money, so he bought his freedom. I'll bet my prosthetic leg that it was them," Moody spat into the fireplace in annoyance. "I even think I badly injured one of them. I hope his leg rots off, and I got the other one with a 'Bow-Wow-Bow-Wow'.
"Wounds like that don't heal easily, Albus," he said seriously, "and no one went to Mungo's."
"I don't know for sure, but the Malfoys probably have a personal healer," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "They may not have gone to Mungo's."
"But why would they risk exposing themselves in what is essentially a routine matter?" Moody couldn't help asking. "What did they hope to achieve?
"Form an alliance with werewolves?" he croaked thoughtfully. "What can those dark creatures do? They're only good for cannon fodder."
"Lucius Malfoy has spilled a lot of our party's blood," Dumbledore grunted. "He's constantly putting obstacles in our way at the Wizengamot. If we can find something to compromise him with, we could reduce his influence."
"He sent me a message via Severus Snape saying he's willing to finance repairs to all the Hogwarts dormitories," Albus sighed. "But in return, he wants a seat on the board of trustees.
"Slytherins," grumbled Moody. "They never do anything for nothing.
Dumbledore chuckled. Alastor was in his element and, as a true Gryffindor, couldn't stand Slytherins, whom he considered to be dark wizards.
"I want to ask you, my friend," Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, his glasses twinkling merrily. "Look for evidence of Malfoy's dark dealings in Lutno. Grab someone by the scruff of the neck, maybe they'll spill the beans."
"Every resident of Lutno will spill the beans as soon as they see me," Moody snarled. "All right, Albus, take care, I'll see what I can dig up on Malfoy. Alastor slapped his knee, stood up, waved goodbye, and disappeared into the flames of the fireplace.
Dumbledore stroked the phoenix's feathers and sighed as he pulled a stack of documents closer. The work was never-ending.
***
Not wanting to put off the request of the great light for long, Alastor just checked in at the Ministry and then headed for the Leaky. Apparating not far from The Leaky Cauldron, Alastor looked around out of habit and, finding nothing suspicious, entered the pub. As always, there were several regulars sitting in The Leaky Cauldron, and Tom the bartender was wiping glasses. Nodding to Tom, Moody walked past him to the back exit. After tapping the brick wall in the usual way, he immediately found himself in a diagon ally. Without looking at the shop windows or listening to the barkers, Moody calmly walked to Gringotts and turned into the alley opposite it. Knockturn Alley greeted the Dark Wizard with a stench and filth. Passing under Alastor's arch out of habit, he spat on the pavement and immediately destroyed the spit with a wave of his hand. Some hag sitting against the wall, seeing the dark wizard's wildly spinning eye, let out a muffled scream and rushed off into the darkness. Moody didn't know who he was looking for, but intuition rarely failed an experienced dark wizard. After wandering around Lutnoy, Moody saw nothing worthy of attention, when a wizard was kicked out of a bookmaker's office.
"Just try not to pay back your debts in a week, Nazemnikus Fletcher, or I'll sell your head to Noggin and Bones," a man growled viciously over the lying body and slammed the door shut.
"My head," Fletcher moaned, struggling to his feet and grabbing the wet stone wall with his hand. "May you die of dragon pox, you damned huckster!"
He was about to move to the right when he caught sight of Moody. Moody was standing there, playing with his stick, and nodded to Grounder to let him pass to the White Wyvern.
"Come on, Fletcher," Moody grinned. "I've got something to talk to you about."
He pointed the way with his stick.
Nazemnikus Fletcher was a petty crook and smuggler. Ever since the Ministry of Magic had tightened the screws, smugglers had had a hard time, and Fletcher had been getting by on Quidditch betting, selling banned ingredients, and other semi-criminal activities. Today was a particularly bad day because he had borrowed twenty galleons from the bookmaker, hoping to make a profit by reselling a large quantity of jumping toadstools. They could be sold to potion shops for a galleon apiece, and a werewolf he knew offered him eight sickles and fifteen Knuts each. Nazemnikus calculated his profit, borrowed the gold and was already looking forward to doubling his earnings. To his great regret, none of the owners of the potion shops wanted to buy goods from an untested supplier. Nazemnikus lowered the price and tried to sell everywhere he could, but he didn't even get a third of his investment back. In his grief, he drank away the rest of the galleons he had earned and was about to run away and hide somewhere until the search for him stopped. But today, the bookmaker's henchmen simply dragged him back and gave Fletcher an ultimatum: either he returns the debt or he's dead. Realising he had nothing to lose, Nazemnikus grimly followed the dark wizard into the White Wyvern.
Sitting down at a table and activating his eavesdropping protection, Moody smiled and looked at Fletcher with his one good eye, the magic continuing to spin in all directions, monitoring the situation.
"I think you've got a problem, Fletcher," Moody asked, unable to hide his smirk.
"Can't you see, Moody?" snapped the hapless swindler. "Everything's fine for you in the Aurorate, with your salary, seniority, this and that... But we're just feeding the wolves," he said sadly, glancing towards the bar. "Maybe you'd like to order something?
Moody waved lazily to the waitress.
"Two pints of beer, dear, and something to eat," said Alastor, throwing some change into the girl's hand. She nodded understandingly and hurried off to the bar. A few minutes later, she placed two beer mugs on the table and set a large plate with sizzling sausages and another with nuts and fish to accompany the beer in front of them.
Nazemnikus immediately sucked on the tall clay mug and, after taking a few hearty swallows, set it down on the table. With a satisfied sigh, he asked,
"So what do you want from the old thief, Alastor?" He didn't even notice the foam stuck to his unshaven face.
Moody leaned closer to him and said,
"Have you heard about the attack on the Auror station in Gloucester?"
"Who hasn't heard about it?" Fletcher sneered. "There's a rumour going around all of Lutny about how you got your ass kicked in that stinking little town."
Moody grimaced and picked up his mug of beer. Taking a hearty swig, he wiped his mouth and looked at Fletcher.
"Have you heard who those brave lads were who had such fun there?"
"I don't know for sure," said the swindler thoughtfully, "but the gangs say they're not one of us, someone from the nobility was there, for sure.
"Maybe one of your friends saw or heard something?" Moody did not give up hope.
Nazemnikus just shrugged:
"All I know is that the whole story has something to do with werewolves. Apparently, someone important got caught by the aurors, since they got such a 'response'.
"I don't care about werewolves," the dark warrior said angrily. "There were three magicians there, wearing devourer masks. I need those creatures!"
"There haven't been any devourers in Lyutno for a long time, and they always wear masks, so you can't tell who's underneath, but I'll keep that in mind if I'm still in London," he grinned crookedly. "I feel like it's time to move somewhere else for a while, or else they'll really sell my dried head to the Noggin and Bones shop." "If you keep your eyes open and send me an owl if you find out anything, I'll send you a few galleons to get you out of the mess you've got yourself into," Moody tapped his finger on the table and reached for his mug again.
Nazemnikus chewed a few salted nuts and washed them down with beer, then nodded confidently:
"It's a deal, Alastor, I agree."
Sealing the agreement with a magical oath, Moody left a thick bag of galleons on the table and left the pub. He hadn't found out anything special, but at least if Fletcher sniffed something out, they would have a chance to catch these lurking devourers.
***
Valburga Black left the Ministry of Magic in a terrible mood. She had tried to arrange another visit with her son, but the damned officials had refused. They said she had visited Azkaban not long ago, and according to the rules, visits were limited to once a year for immediate family members. "Bastards!" thought the old witch. "If I can't see him, maybe I can bribe one of the guards and get some food and chocolate to my son? He's probably used Animagi to protect himself from the Dementors, but he could use some chocolate."
Appearing at the Malfoy residence, she shared her concerns with Narcissa, who promised to inquire with Lucius about the delivery.
"I think he's still in touch with his old friends somehow," Narcissa said thoughtfully, looking up. "I asked him to support Bella, because despite her progressive madness, she's still my sister."
"And I tried to get a visit today," Valburga gritted her teeth, "but they wouldn't even listen to me. Scrimgeour said he couldn't see me because he was preparing for a meeting. The others just nodded at each other and said that prisoners in Azkaban can only be visited once a year and no other way. In short, they played with my nerves, the bastards," Valburga said angrily.
Narcissa couldn't help but gently stroke her hand and say,
"Don't worry, auntie, we'll sort everything out. How would you like to take a trip to the coast of France? Abraxas said that Cassius will be transferred there too." "After all, the children are on holiday," smiled Narcissa. "You need a break and a change of scenery too. Cassius will be delighted to see you in France."
"All right," agreed Valburga, "as soon as we manage to send Sirius a parcel. I really do need to relax a little, and it won't hurt to find out how our boy is spending his holidays.
Draco popped into the living room and, seeing the women sitting on the sofa, bowed politely.
"Hello, Grandmother Valburga, hello, Mum. I would like to invite some friends over who I played Quidditch with at my birthday party. We've been exchanging messages all month, so much so that our owl is probably tired of carrying all the letters.
Narcissa couldn't help but smile at her son's spontaneity.
"All right, dear," she nodded, "you can invite your friends over tomorrow. Summer, holidays, Quidditch. What could be better?"
"Thank you, Mum!" Draco exclaimed happily. "I'll go write the letters then."
"Go on," smiled Narcissa. "Next week we're going to visit Grandpa. I think the fresh sea air will do us all good. So finish up your chores over the next few days," Narcissa called after her son, "and get ready for some sea adventures."
The boy ran off happily, and Narcissa told the house spirits to serve tea. She and Walburga decided to wait for Lucius so they could find out right away how to help Sirius Black.
***
The next day, the same kids who had been at Draco's birthday party gathered in the gazebo near the Quidditch pitch. Only his cousin was missing, but even without him, there were enough people who wanted to play. The children quickly drew lots and divided into two teams. For several hours, the whole company happily flew around the sky, cheering on their teammates' successful feints with excited shouts. Finally, after flying around and getting a little tired, the young wizards gathered again in the gazebo, where the quick-witted house elves had already set the table with drinks and refreshments.
A flushed Draco eagerly discussed with Wood the "Wronsky move" they had seen at the last Holyhead Harpies match and the new strategies their new captain, Gwenog Jones, was coming up with. The girls discussed the latest issue of Witch's Gazette. This year, the magazine had established an annual award for "Most Charming Smile," which was won by a young but promising writer, Gilderoy Lockhart. The girls agreed that he was a real heartthrob and hero.
"Draco, when is your cousin Cassius coming to England?" Daphne asked him. "Now there's a handsome guy," she said quietly, blushing a little.
"I don't know," Malfoy shrugged, "I think we'll see him at Grandpa's next week. Mum says we're going there on Monday when my father finishes his business in England.
"Doesn't he think it's a bit inconvenient to transfer to Hogwarts, studying so far from home?"Jemima Farley asked curiously.
"My father says," Draco began solemnly, "that it's better for Cassius there than at Hogwarts. I don't really know why... Hogwarts is the best school in the world, after all," the boy added, looking a little sheepish.
After lunch, the children continued to entertain themselves, and it was not until evening that Draco arrived home. Pleased with his day, he eagerly told Narcissa and Lucius about his victories and achievements. Lucius grunted approvingly, while his mother smiled and nodded, thinking to herself how wonderful it would be when the whole family got together in a week.
***
Today, Lucius met Snape near the Ministry, and Snape conveyed Dumbledore's agreement to the deal. Under the terms of the deal, Lucius agreed to renovate the Hogwarts dormitories in exchange for a permanent seat on the Board of Trustees. There were two ways to get on the Board of Trustees. It was believed that if your children studied at Hogwarts, it was worth making a substantial contribution to the school's budget, and you could participate in the work of the council, albeit in an advisory capacity. However, such council members were considered temporary, as they were elected to the council only for the duration of their children's studies.
The second way involved making a fairly large annual donation to the school, and such members of the board of trustees had much greater opportunities, including the appointment of professors and the headmaster. It was precisely such a position that was offered to Malfoy.
A satisfied Lucius and Snape went to Gringotts Bank, where they solemnly exchanged a cheque for gold galleons from Malfoy and a richly decorated scroll from the Hogwarts administration granting him a permanent seat on the board of trustees. After parting with his friend, a satisfied Malfoy entered the Fortescue café, where the warden of Azkaban was waiting for him.
"Good afternoon, Matthew," Lucius greeted the wizard with a smile.
Matthew O'Sullivan, a fat red-haired man of Irish descent, had recently been appointed head of the most terrifying wizard prison in England. Malfoy followed his companion's example and ordered himself a serving of ice cream. The salary and working conditions at this place were not very attractive to many wizards, so the prison's administrators changed with sad regularity.
Lucius cautiously found out what his interlocutor wanted most and immediately agreed that O'Sullivan would turn a blind eye to the increasing flow of parcels to the prisoners, and Malfoy would buy him a cosy little house somewhere in Bellibunone, where Matthew could bask on the golden beaches and visit the Irish Muggle golf club. The satisfied Irishman had long since hurried off on his business, while Lucius continued to enjoy his delicious ice cream and mentally sum up the week that had flown by unnoticed.
***
Today, a joyful Abraxas Malfoy greeted his arriving relatives at the landing pad of the French estate. Lucius's family and Valburga Black arrived at noon, as agreed, while Cassius had been at the estate since early morning and was now splashing around in the sea. The estate was located right on the shore, and the beach, protected from the eyes of Muggles, allowed them to enjoy the peace and solitude of the Côte d'Azur, almost in the very centre of the tourist Mecca of the French coast.
The satisfied old wizard showed his guests into the grounds, and everyone settled down on the terrace under a canvas awning. The sea breeze pleasantly cooled their heated skin. Cassius immediately dragged Draco off to swim, quickly kissing his mother and Walburga on the cheeks and hugging Lucius tightly. The boys began jumping off a long pier jutting far out into the sea, near which stood the Malfoy yacht, and their joyful cries could be heard even on the terrace of the estate, making the wizards sitting around the table smile.
"How are things in England?" Abraxas asked with interest, leaning back on the soft sofa.
"So far, so good. We are gradually regaining the positions we lost during the war," Lucius replied.
"It's become completely boring in England," Narcissa interjected capriciously. "Under the new regime, everyone has stopped holding receptions in their manors, and social life has completely died down.
"Come now, dear," Lucius laughed, "what about the reception at the Green Grasses last week?"
"Oh, dear," Narcissa dismissed him, "the Green Grasses' parties are incredibly boring. She has absolutely no talent for hosting parties worthy of the Malfoys.
Unable to contain themselves, everyone present burst out laughing. When she wanted to, Narcissa could "turn on" such a high-society bitch that many wizards who didn't know her well enough took her seriously.
"I suggest we change for the water activities," suggested Abraxas. "The sea is surprisingly clean and warm at this time of year, and you can even see dolphins in the water.
After finishing their cocktails, everyone went together to get their beach things.
***
***
Draco was tormented by curiosity. As a native of the magical world, he had never been to the world of Muggles. Yes, he knew, of course, that Muggles existed somewhere out there, but he had never seen one. And here, literally a mile from the estate, was some kind of Muggle resort town called Saint-Cyr or Saint-Surs, and a little further on was the famous Marseille, where large and small ships from all over the world arrived. When Draco asked Cassius to show him the Muggles, he shrugged and simply walked over to his father. His father did not object, but conjured up some Muggle clothes for the children and, trusting Cassius as the older one, sent them to take a walk in the Muggle town, but just in case, he assigned a house elf to accompany them, invisible.
The children left the estate and slowly made their way up the city streets. Having worked up an appetite and looked at what were, in general, ordinary houses for the French countryside, Cassius led his brother to the first Asian restaurant they came across, Le Yakka, where they sat down outside on comfortable chairs with woven backs and enjoyed the unusual Japanese cuisine. Draco found it funny that this strange food was eaten with chopsticks and dipped in some kind of salty sauce. Nevertheless, it was very tasty.
At the next table sat two girls in bright summer dresses, and Cassius immediately felt that they were emitting some kind of magic. Looking more closely, he realised that all the male customers in the café were discreetly glancing at these girls. "France, Veela," the recognition flashed through his mind.
"Look, Draco," he nudged his brother, who was intently examining a juicy shrimp on a wooden skewer sprinkled with sesame seeds.
Draco looked up in confusion and also stared at the girls. One looked to be about eighteen, and the other was apparently a little older than Draco.
"So what?" the short blond boy looked at his brother in confusion. "Come on, girls, they're pretty."
"They're Veelas, you idiot," Cassius ruffled his hair. "Magical creatures, half-human, half-bird.
Draco stared more intently at the neighbouring table.
"Let's ask them to transform," he suggested. "I'm really curious."
Cassius just smiled at his brother.
"You'll learn about different intelligent creatures at school, including Veelas," he said. "We don't have many of them in England because of the Ministry of Magic's discriminatory laws, but in France they live alongside humans. They only transform when they're angry, so why make them angry?"
"Let's get to know each other," Draco said, forgetting about the shrimp. "Where else can we see real magical creatures?"
"All right," agreed Cassius, walking over to the next table.
"Hello, ladies," he bowed slightly. "May my brother and I join you? This is our first time in this city, we don't know anything here, but you've probably been here for a long time. Tell us about the sights here. We're tired of just walking around the streets," he sighed with a smile.
The Veela looked at him in surprise, but the boys were so charming that they couldn't refuse them. The boys quickly moved to the next table, and Draco, burning with impatience, blurted out:
"Are you really Veela?
The older girl looked at Malfoy in shock, while the younger one blushed cutely and just nodded.
"That's great," Draco exclaimed. "This is the first time I've seen real magical creatures. Well, not counting goblins," he added, suddenly grimacing.
Recovering, the Veela giggled nervously.
"Yes," smiled the older Veela, "unlike us, goblins look rather repulsive. Everyone burst out laughing, and the awkwardness disappeared.
"Let's get acquainted," suggested Cassius. "This is my brother Draco Malfoy, and I'm Cassius. My parents and I flew here to visit my grandfather. His villa is over there on the shore." He waved his hand towards the sea.
"My name is Sylvia," said the older girl.
"And I'm Isabel," the younger girl nodded slightly. "We're staying with our aunt here for the summer."
"Great!" Draco exclaimed. "What's there to see?"
"Well, here in Saint-Cyr-sur-Mer, or Saint-Mer as the locals call it, there aren't really any tourist attractions," Sylvia shrugged. "You can't count the ridiculous gilded statue of liberty in the square or the sculptures of naked bathers on the beach as attractions," she said, blushing slightly.
"But the sea is great here," Isabel said happily. "You can swim as much as you want and there aren't many people. Yesterday we went to Marseille, and everyone was staring at us," she said, looking a little sad.
Cassius turned to Draco:
"Because of their magical nature, all males react strongly to Veela," he explained instructively. "And if we just find them very pretty," the girls smiled, "then Muggles just get bats in the bell tower," Isabel giggled again.
In general, the younger Veela was more relaxed and spontaneous, as befits a child from a well-to-do family. Draco just shrugged. Cute girls, so what? He didn't care about the Muggles' problems as long as they didn't affect him. Chatting about everything, they didn't notice how evening had fallen.
During this time, they tried a lot of Japanese ice cream with strange flavours. They even ordered ice cream not to eat, but to laugh at the diversity of Japanese cuisine. The chicken wing and beef tongue ice cream alone were worth it. The only flavour that everyone liked was wasabi ice cream, despite its bitterness and the tears it brought to their eyes, it was still enjoyable to eat. After saying goodbye to the cheerful girls and learning a lot about Veela, they even agreed that if they were ever in Paris, they would visit their community, which was located in the suburbs near the Meudon Park.
***
A satisfied Draco excitedly told Narcissa about the extraordinary adventures that had happened today, while Cassius simply sat on the veranda, his feet tucked into a cosy armchair. Nothing here reminded him of the month he had spent in the desert with the Tuareg tribe. Nevertheless, when he switched to his magical vision, he could see various Loa here in the centre of Europe, and if the opportunity arose, he could use them.
At times, Cassius found the life he was now living unreal, and sometimes he couldn't believe that just two weeks ago he had calmly watched as a terrifying old man in a burnoose slit the throats of prisoners with a crooked knife, while he himself Cassius, holding a bowl under the stream of steaming blood from severed arteries. And if they hadn't done so, several good people would have died right there, one of whom had taught Cassius how to bridle a camel, and two others had shown him how to light a fire in the desert. And Cassius understood that if his loved ones were in the place of the wounded, he would be able to slit the victim's throat and perform the dark ritual himself, despite his fear.
***
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