Harry Potter and Hermione Granger arrived at the Weasleys' house within a short time of each other. There was noise, talk about the upcoming championship, and a feast. Harry was especially happy to be out of his guardians' house, where they couldn't stand him. Arthur Weasley got tickets for the whole family and guests. All he had to do was enchant a Muggle tape recorder for Ludo Bagman, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and he quickly arranged seats for Arthur in the Ministry box, where only officials close to the minister, businessmen, and foreign guests were invited. Early the next morning, everyone travelled through a portal to a camp near a huge stadium, where wizards had organised the Quidditch World Cup final.
The minister's box was cool and comfortable. The aroma of fresh tea, coffee and French croissants subtly hinted at the high status of the guests in this box. Fudge and his Bulgarian colleague quietly discussed international relations, using translation amulets. The Weasley family, along with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, sat next to Ron and Ginny, cheerfully sharing their expectations for the upcoming match. Lucius Malfoy strode majestically through the door with his wife and younger son. Cassius was still feeling unwell, his magic rebelling. He decided to skip the championship and instead work on the Black family altar, adapting it to his greatly increased powers.
Lucius greeted the ministers in a mannered way, but chose to ignore the Weasleys. Narcissa also pretended that they were alone, looking at the stadium with listless interest, while Draco, dressed in a strict suit and a fancy robe, nodded cheerfully to Hermione and snorted contemptuously at Potter and Ron.
"Dressed up like a peacock," Weasley nodded irritably and a little enviously at Draco. "And he was smiling at you," he reproached Hermione.
"Oh, Ronnypops," the twins laughed, "are you jealous?"
"Fools!" blushed the redhead, "I'm not jealous at all."
At that moment, the stadium began to stir. First, the Bulgarian mascots nearly knocked the spectators out of their seats. Ronald, the twins, and Potter jumped up from their seats, devouring the magnificent dancing Veela with their eyes, earning disapproving grunts from the adults.
Hermione glanced discreetly at the Malfoys. Draco lazily scanned the stands with his Omnion, paying no attention to the dancing Veela, while Lucius talked quietly with his wife. The difference in behaviour struck Hermione once again. She tried to behave as usual with her friends, but without her usual dose of potions, she found fault with them all the time.
Ron was always sloppy, Potter was childish, and Ginny was cunning, looking at Harry with a calculating gaze when she thought Hermione wasn't looking. But she was simply too afraid to break off her relationship with her "friends." After all, they were the only ones who treated her like a friend at Hogwarts.
At that moment, having barely calmed down after Veela's fiery performance, Ron jumped out of his chair again. The Irish mascots were throwing leprechaun gold all over the stands. The redhead immediately began crawling around on the floor, collecting coins with cries of delight. Hermione rolled her eyes and facepalmed at the sight. Ronald often slept in class, chatted with Potter, and did anything but study.
"Ronny, kid, that's leprechaun gold. Leprechauns are the mascots of Ireland. Don't you know it'll disappear in a couple of hours?" the twins teased.
Ronald, looking sulky, calmed down and sat back down in his seat.
"What if it doesn't disappear? Then you'll look like fools!" he said, making a scary face at his brothers and sticking out his tongue.
"Here we go," Harry nudged him. "Look."
The teams flew onto the field, and after the referee's whistle, the final began. The Bulgarians had little to oppose the coordinated play of the Irish team, and even the snitch caught by Viktor Krum did not save the Bulgarian team from defeat. The disappointed Bulgarian minister left the box to cheer on his players, while Fudge watched with satisfaction as the stadium's excitement grew.
***
Under an invisibility cloak, guarded by a loyal house-elf jailer, sat a young blond-haired man. He was watching the match because his father had ordered him to. He ate and slept because his father had ordered him to. He did not leave the house because his father had ordered him not to.
But today, something had changed, and Bartemius Crouch's son, the young man who was believed to have died in Azkaban, seemed to have awakened. Barty cautiously looked around, not understanding what had awakened him. Next to him was Winky, trembling and bowing her head. In front sat the Weasley family, and behind them were the Malfoys and some Ministry officials. Glancing angrily at the Malfoys, Barty stared again at the redheads.
Among them sat a bespectacled boy, right in front of him, and his head smelled slightly of his master. He had the feeling that it was this fleeting hint of something familiar, the invisible presence of his master, that had prompted him to break free from the Imperius Curse, and he could still feel the traces of that terrible spell in his wounded aura. The subjugation spell cast by his father had left bleeding scars not on his body, but on the very essence of the former Death Eater.
Barty licked the corner of his lips with the tip of his tongue in excitement: "It's okay, the main thing is that I can think for myself now, and I'll definitely be able to figure out how to escape." His eyes darted around the wizards sitting around him, but they always returned to the bespectacled boy with the "nest on his head," and he finally realised what he had missed. A magic wand was sticking out of the back pocket of the brat.
Waiting for the crowd to cheer at another successful moment on the field and for Winky to close his eyes even tighter in fear, Barty smoothly pulled the wand out of the brat's pocket and clutched it triumphantly in his hand. Carefully aiming the concentrator at the house elf, he waited for another burst of emotion and growled:
"Imperio.
The elf's eyes immediately clouded over and she froze, waiting for orders.
"When the match is over, take me to my father's tent. It's time to settle the score with that old bastard.
After the match, as soon as the jubilant Irishmen whistled and Ludo Bagman shouted:
"Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mallet! Moran! Quigley! Lynch! Aaaah... Ireland is the champion!" — Domovushka carried Barty to a modest grey-green tent. He abruptly threw back the curtain and noticed his father, who, surprised by the unexpected intrusion, had just begun to look up from his papers.
"Imperio!" the younger Crouch shouted again, and Bartemius froze, staring at his son with an indifferent gaze.
"Oh, Merlin, how I want to cast Avada on you, you bastard, so that your indifferent eyes are closed forever," Barty shuddered with burning hatred. "All these years under Imperius, I've wanted this to happen so badly that I've been shaking with desire."
Now, on the brink of madness, Barty Jr. understood with some animal cunning that killing his father immediately would only lead to problems. Besides, he really wanted the elder Crouch to be in his place for just a little while and feel all the terrible pain and helplessness in the face of the Imperius Curse and someone else's will.
Gathering his strength, Barty said coldly:
"You don't remember that you have a son. I died in Azkaban. Behave as usual. Do you understand?"
"I'm behaving as usual," Bartemius repeated emotionlessly after his son.
They sat in the tent until evening, and then the younger Crouch and the house-elf moved to the edge of the forest. The noise of voices grew louder in the camp, angry shouts could be heard, and fan fights were already in full swing. Barty, who had originally just wanted to go home, suddenly grinned madly, threw his head back, and shouted, "Morsmordre!" Thick green smoke flew out of his wand, rising and turning into a huge glowing skull with a snake crawling out of its mouth.
Laughing madly, Barty watched the unfolding scene with delight, but suddenly heard children's voices.
"Winky!" he said to the house elf. "Now transport us to the mansion, then return to this place and throw the wand away. Then wait for my father and do as he says, behave as you always do." She nodded, and in a moment Barty found himself in the middle of his father's living room.
Winky had already left, and he spun around and laughed joyfully. There were hints of madness in Crouch's voice, but he didn't care about anything...
"I'm free! Free, Mordred and Morgana! All that's left is to find my lord, and everything will be as it was before."***
The forest was quite dense, and a short, stocky man, secretly making his way through the bushes that threatened to scratch him, was trembling with fear. Peter Pettigrew had escaped once again. The years spent in peace and plenty with the Weasley family were gone forever. And even though living like a rat had taken its toll on his appearance, Peter had no regrets. The main thing was that he was alive and had once again managed to escape from that mad Black, his former friend, a marauder and a self-confident bastard in general. Peter remembered how he had ended up in this forest and was able to distract himself a little from the painfully prickly vegetation.
When some Hogwarts graduate cut off Black's head right in front of him, followed by Lupin rapidly turning into a werewolf. No one paid any attention to Pettigrew, and he took advantage of this. He turned into a rat, darted into the nearest burrow and rushed away from this terrible place. When the fear finally subsided, he realised that he had no idea where he was.
Having somehow made his way to the surface, Peter realised that he was far away and Hogwarts was nowhere to be seen. Taking his trusty wand from a secret pocket, Pettigrew transported himself to London. With his face wrapped in a rag, he wandered aimlessly down a diagon ally when he suddenly heard a familiar voice.
Two women were sitting on the veranda of the Fortescue café, talking loudly.
"Mariam, I'm so tired of preparing for the championship. I really need a holiday, I can't go on like this." Delanno sighed, a familiar aunt appeared. Pettigrew looked more closely and with difficulty recognised the unpleasant Bertha Jorkins in the much older woman.
The girl was only a couple of years older than him and was always annoying him with her tattling. Her insatiable curiosity about the secrets of their group annoyed all four friends. Maybe that was why he was able to remember her face, although it was more likely her sharp, unpleasant voice that gave her away.
Pretending to be deep in thought, Peter stopped and listened intently to the conversation, but the women did not even think to lower their voices.
"Oh, Bertha. Of course, it's high time you took a holiday," chirped the second woman. "You've done so much for Bagman. All the preparation fell on your shoulders, and he didn't lift a finger.
Without listening further, the rat-man frantically thought about what he had heard. He had to flee the country immediately. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore wouldn't look at the children's memories and recognise the scruffy fat man as the late hero of the Order of Merlin, Third Class. And then he would send his faithful seeker, Moody, to find him. And then Peter would surely meet his end, because even when he was still a Death Eater, he had heard enough terrible stories about the work of this so-called "protector of light." What this one-eyed bastard, sometimes a seasoned killer, did during the war made him shudder with disgust. "War will write everything off," Moody laughed, cutting down the family of another Devourer. "And I'll wipe you bastards out to the last man!"
At that moment, his ears picked up an interesting episode from the women's chatter. It turned out that Bertha's grandmother was from Albania, and that was where she was going on holiday. Peter remembered that Quirrell carried the spirit of a milord in his head and had heard, hiding in a burrow near DADA's classroom, about his meeting with Voldemort, which took place not just anywhere, but in the forests of Albania. They even mentioned the place where something valuable had been hidden. At the time, Pettigrew was afraid to reveal himself to the lord, but now he knew roughly where to find him.
Only when he found himself on Albanian territory did Peter breathe freely, having spent the entire journey hidden in a suitcase, Jorkins. It was a good thing that Bertha preferred to travel by train, as a flight on that terrifying Muggle contraption, which flew in some unknown way, would surely have shaken the soul out of the little wizard.
Waiting for Bertha to lock herself in the bathroom, Peter immediately slipped out of the unlocked suitcase and, scattering the neatly arranged items, instantly transformed into a human being. Reaching the kitchen and throwing open the refrigerator, he began throwing everything that looked even remotely familiar into his mouth. During the days he had spent locked in the suitcase, Peter had become quite hungry. Wiping his unshaven chin with his sleeve and twitching his almost rat-like whiskers, he took out a bottle of mineral water and greedily sucked on it. After belching contentedly, Peter returned to the bedroom and sat down in the middle of the scattered belongings, placing his wand on his knees and waiting for the witch.
Bertha came out of the bathroom and, before she could scream, was immediately hit by the Imperius Curse. After giving instructions to Jorkins, Peter finally took a bath, once again filling himself with what the woman had prepared, and, completely satisfied, set off in search of his master.
And now, making his way through the wild forest, Peter wondered if it wouldn't have been easier to go to America, settle down in some remote place, find a woman and live peacefully. Why was he doing all this now, searching for his defeated master, hiding from Dumbledore? Scratching his left forearm, Rat grunted sadly. The black mark would not let him go just like that; only constantly remaining in the form of a rat saved him from the madness of the mark. As soon as he turned into a human, Peter felt his magic begin to flow involuntarily through the communication channel, disappearing into the unknown, and in its place, madness, poisoned with venom, crept in.
"And what did you forget in this forest?" Peter's thoughts were interrupted by a quiet voice. At first, he even thought it was the wind rustling, but looking back quickly and holding out his wand with the lumus at the end, he saw a black cloud with two red eyes burning in its depths.
The mark stung noticeably, and Pettigrew collapsed to his knees, exhaling: "Sir!" The spirit floated closer, and the balding wizard shuddered, feeling a burning sensation in the mark.
"Ah, my little Peter," hissed the icy voice. "Have you come to visit me?
"I've been looking for you, sir, all these years, and finally I've found you," Peter stammered in a fawning tone, without raising his head.
"And you want to take me into your body?" the spirit continued.
"No, sir," Peter dared to say, remembering the fate of the unfortunate Quirrell.
"Then why did you come looking for me?" came the angry hiss.
"I'm not ready to become your vessel, my lord," Pettigrew bowed even lower, "it's too great an honour. I want to help you get your body back, sir. I managed to capture and bring here a woman who can help us. She works at the Ministry of Magic, and no one searched her at the border. Her name is Bertha Jorkins, she studied a couple of years before me.
"Bring her to me," the spirit commanded imperiously.
After delivering the unfortunate woman to Voldemort, Peter watched with satisfaction as he tore her mind apart. Releasing Bertha, who immediately began convulsing, the spirit turned to Peter.
"I have a good plan, my tailed friend. This is what we must do..."
A week later, Peter and Voldemort, who had taken the form of an ugly homunculus after a dark ritual, settled in the old Reddlov mansion. The mansion belonged to Milord's grandparents, whom he had killed immediately after leaving school. The house was empty, except for the bloated and often tipsy gardener, Mr. Bryce, who, out of old habit, kept a watchful eye on the dilapidated buildings.
Peter experienced the most terrifying moments of his life when Voldemort's pet snake, awakened in some burrow, nearly devoured a rat that had wandered too close. Its fangs were literally inches away, but Peter somehow managed to jump out of the burrow and transform into a human. When the angry snake flew out, Peter, trembling with fear, told her everything that had happened and invited her to join them. Now the three of them lived in the Reddlov mansion, and Voldemort mysteriously promised that he could sense that someone would soon visit them.
The constable and coroner took away the body of old Bryce, and the Reddlov mansion was empty again. A few hours later, a young man was walking uncertainly along a country road on the outskirts of Little Hangleton, licking the corner of his lips from time to time. "Where the hell is Mordred's house?" Barty cursed under his breath.
Yesterday, the mark had burned with a burning pain, and he had heard Milord's voice in his head, ordering him to find his old estate.
After somehow making it to Little Hangleton, Barty saw a dilapidated house with a crumbling roof on a hill and immediately headed towards it. Climbing the creaky stairs to the second floor, Crouch saw with his heart in his mouth the chair in which the ugly homunculus sat, the fireplace into which a small bald fat man was throwing logs, and a huge snake, twelve feet long, coiled around the chair and looking at the wizard who had entered with gastronomic interest.
"Don't touch him, Nagin," hissed an icy voice. "Come to me, Barty.
No longer afraid of the snake, Crouch rushed to the armchair and fell at his master's feet.
"My lord," he cried, choking with excitement, "I am so happy to see you! I couldn't go looking for you; first they put me in Azkaban, and then my father stole me and kept me under the Imperius Curse for thirteen years.
"But you managed to escape, my faithful servant?" Voldemort spread his lips in a lifeless smile.
"Yes, my lord!" I put him under the Imperius Curse, and now he is completely under my control. If you wish, we can move from here to my place, sir. Crouch's eyes glowed with adoration and the excitement of a madman.
***
Harry and Hermione sat at the kitchen table in the Weasley home. Molly was arranging food on plates that were floating in the air. The twins, Fred and George, came down from the second floor, throwing playful curses at each other that made their noses grow or their ears suddenly enlarge. The twins laughed together and made faces at each other.
Their father came in from the yard, followed by Ron and Ginny.
"Sit down at the table, but wash your hands first," Molly waved at them, and they all headed for the washbasins. Finally, when everyone was seated at the table, Arthur set the example, and the whole family immediately pounced on the food.
"Tomorrow we're going to Hogwarts," Fred said happily, and perhaps George too, but their voices were drowned out by joyful shouts.
Potter always liked the Weasley house very much. Their friendly and cheerful family had replaced the relatives he had never known. He was always supported by Ron's mum and dad, who had become his first and best friend. The twins were very funny, Percy was too important, but sometimes he helped Harry understand difficult topics that he didn't understand. Bill and Charlie were already too old to pay attention to the little ones, but they would never say a bad word about him either.
True, little Ginny sometimes scared Harry by looking at him with loving eyes, but after last year's incident, when Potter heroically defeated the Slytherin basilisk, her obsessive attention subsided somewhat. Perhaps she had grown up and started behaving more appropriately.
Ginny was as fiery and cheerful as the rest of the Weasley family, and she looked even prettier than last year. All in all, the evening was wonderful, and when they woke up, they gathered together to set off for Hogwarts. Only Hermione was looking a little unhappy and green in the morning. Apparently, she had eaten something bad and spent the whole night on the toilet.
***
Cassius thoughtfully walked through all the shops on Diagon Alley. He had bought many ingredients for the ritual to strengthen the family altar. All that remained was to find a few more items, and then he could begin. For the ritual, Black needed twenty pounds of black opal.
The mineral, better known in the magical world as matrix, was ideal for expanding the channel of communication with the wizard. In the end, Cassius went to Gringotts, because who else but the underground dwellers would know where to get what he needed?
"Hello," Cassius politely stopped the first clerk he saw. "Please call the Black family representative." The clerk nodded and hurried through a side door.
"My dear Lord," the elderly goblin grinned predatorily, "it's been a long time since you've visited us. I understand, school, Azkaban..."
"Greetings, Bargok," Cassius smiled warmly. "May your enemies' blood wet your feet and gold flow like a river.
The satisfied goblin flashed his eyes and waved invitingly.
"Please, my lord, to my office. Let us discuss our business.
Although he had no intention of staying in Gringotts for long, Cassius nevertheless spent several hours in the company of the manager. After ordering the necessary amount of magic stones from the bank, Black smoothly moved on to discussing the family's financial affairs. The goblin reported on the income for the previous period and suggested better ways to invest the profits.
"You know, Lord, this year Hogwarts is organising the Triwizard Tournament," Bargoc began.
Cassius looked questioningly at the manager.
"Few remember now," the goblin smiled. "In the past, the tournament was held for many years between Hogwarts, Beauxbaton and Durmstrang. It's a pity it was closed due to the unusually high mortality rate of participants. The organisation of the tournament was always entrusted to the Ministry of Magic of the host country, and officials announced a competition among contractors. As far as I know," the goblin continued insinuatingly, "you have made some acquaintances in high places. Perhaps you could intercept this contract in advance? There's quite a lot of money involved.
Cassius nodded thoughtfully. He wanted to go back to Hogwarts, see the basilisk, visit the forbidden forest. And he liked the idea of doing it legally much more than doing it secretly. And he also wanted to annoy Dumbledore, that was a must. Cassius seriously considered how to get back at the headmaster for setting him up, but he was understandably afraid to challenge the great light wizard to a duel or get into a fight on Hogwarts grounds.
It was not for nothing that Albus had not shown his face at Hogwarts even during the first magical war, sending his minions to every skirmish. This was because his power increased exponentially at Hogwarts, thanks to the source. But somewhere else, he became an ordinary, albeit great, wizard, no longer possessing the truly divine power he had as headmaster of Hogwarts.
"All right, Bargok," Cassius returned from his thoughts, "I'll talk to the minister or his assistant.
The goblin said goodbye to the client and escorted him to the central hall.
Cassius headed for the exit, but just as he reached the bank's doors, he noticed Filius Flitwick. Black remembered the little wizard from Durmstrang, when he had judged their duel with the Frenchman and the Norwegian. At Hogwarts, Flitwick had also seemed the most reasonable professor, apart from Snape, so he greeted the dwarf politely.
"Hello, Mr Black," squeaked the little wizard cheerfully. "I see you're well?
"Good afternoon, Professor," Cassius smiled. "Just here on family business. Business, you understand?
"Of course," Flitwick grinned. "I have some goblin blood in me, so words like gold, galleons, and business resonate deeply with me.
Cassius chuckled too. Stepping aside so as not to disturb the visitors, they began to talk, and Black, without hiding anything, told the professor the whole truth about what had happened."Yes," sighed the half-goblin, "I remember those boys. Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew — there's no one left, they've all gone down the wrong path." He sighed sadly as he remembered:
"James, he fought for Albus and died, even though I told him that yesterday's schoolboys, with unicorn milk still on their lips, had no business playing adult games. Black betrayed his friends and ended up in Azkaban. Remus Lupin was so afraid of his inner beast that he couldn't accept it and turned into a mad creature on the full moon instead of a normal werewolf. And little Peter Pettigrew disappeared in the first war.
"Actually, there was some other bald man there," he said, looking thoughtfully at Professor Cassius. "Those two were dragging him along, tied up. I didn't see where he went after that, though. I was too busy."
"Well, well!" said Flitwick in surprise. "We thought he was dead, but Pettigrew may be alive? They even gave him an award, albeit posthumously.
"All right, Professor," said Cassius, gathering his things. "I think we'll meet again, perhaps my company will be responsible for preparing the Triwizard Tournament. Then I'll be able to visit Hogwarts.
"I'll be glad to see you, Mr Black," smiled the half-goblin. "Be sure to drop by and see me when you have time.
Leaving the bank, Cassius turned into Lutny Street. The last ingredient of the ritual was sure to provoke the wrath of the authorities, so Lutny Street was the best place for such matters. Hiding his appearance behind an illusion, Cassius moved among the grey and damp walls of the alley. Ignoring the angry glances of beggars and the calls of women of easy virtue, he knocked and entered Coffyn's shop.
"What does the wizard desire?" An old, wrinkled elf stood in place of the shopkeeper. His long ears lay on the counter, and he himself seemed to be blind.
"I need seven magicians for sacrifices, preferably men, and preferably white," Cassius said coldly.
The elf bared his crooked yellow teeth and squeaked:
"Isn't the mage afraid that I'll call the Aurors right now?"
Cassius snorted coldly:
"Then, old man, you should have been selling ice cream in Kosom and feeding your kids, instead of suffering in a shop where only a dark mage would dare to enter."
The elf chuckled maliciously.
"Yes, I love ice cream too... That will cost you three hundred galleons, Mr Wizard. It's good quality. Recently, two Aurors went missing in Lutno, no more, no less, right? A real wizard always finds a place to put the surplus...
"Show me," Cassius nodded in agreement.
"Then follow me, sir." The brownie stepped out from behind the counter and scurried to a door covered with a cloth.
Cassius followed the creature and, entering cautiously, saw a space enlarged by magic, containing several cells with people locked inside. The red uniforms they wore clearly indicated their official status.
Cassius walked along the cells and even recognised one of the aurors.
"Well, is that satisfactory, Mr Wizard?" The elf rubbed his hands together eagerly.
"It suits me," Cassius replied without hesitation. "Here's a deposit," he said, tossing a purse to the old man.
"Here are the portkeys that will transport them all to my dungeon," Black handed him a small box. "As soon as I have the last victim, you will receive the second half of the galleons."
The elf nodded and took the box with the keys. Cassius sat down on a chair and watched as the elf first stood to the side of the cell and pulled a lever, then all the people sitting in it fell unconscious, and then each one disappeared in a flash of the portal. When the last prisoner had been transported, Cassius threw another bag to the old man, who caught it deftly and jingled it near his ear, grinning maliciously.
"The master will be pleased," whispered the old elf, his eyes flashing a swampy green. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, wizard. If you need anything else, you know where to find us.
***
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