10 reviews = bonus chapter
50 comments = bonus chapter
200 gems = bonus chapter
Full story at:
patreon.com/FanFictionPremium
***
Richard imagined the portal as a huge circular archway, like in the Stargate holo-series. Even if the arch was compact, it would be at least a couple of metres in diameter. Or a giant space portal station, which scientists use to send exploration probes and spaceships to other stars, appeared before his eyes.
Richard was curious to see the portal, and he wondered where the old lady would get such a large device from. But the sorceress seriously surprised the young man.
Madame Marchbanks took out a wooden pointer and removed a bracelet of silver from her wrist. Putting the jewellery on the coffee table, she waved the pointer and mumbled something. It was impossible to make out the words.
When she had finished waving the pointer, Madame Marchbanks said:
- My boy, I have enchanted this bracelet into a portal. To use it, you will have to take the bracelet in your hand and say the word Portus. Will you remember?
- I already have, madam," Richard replied, keeping his face calm, though he was experiencing an inexpressible range of emotions at the moment. - I have an excellent memory, though not an eidetic one. I'm sorry, I noticed that when you said Portus, nothing happened. What happens if I hold the bracelet and someone else says the keyword?
- Absolutely nothing," the old woman answered loudly. - The portal will only work under two conditions: first, someone touches it with bare skin; second, the person touches it and says the activator word out loud. The default activator for all portals is the word Portus. Also, Richard, call me Mentor!
- Okay, Mentor," Richard replied. - Tell me, what if, for example, someone else were to pick up the portal and activate it? A servant, for example. Would it work?
- Yes," replied the old woman. - That's the beauty of portals - they can move even Muggles.
The Minister of Magic gave the men a guilty smile and said:
- 'I apologise, gentlemen, but we have to go. Things are busy... I've barely carved out time for this visit as it is.
- Not at all, not at all," said the elder Grosvenor. - We understand perfectly well. You have an important position. It was a pleasure to meet you, Madam Minister. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to contact me... As long as it does not require spending the size of a small country's budget, I am ready to help or make a "modest" donation.
- A donation? - It seemed that Madam Minister had momentarily changed her mind about going anywhere. - Perhaps I can stay for a while," she smiled charmingly at the Duke. - Mr Grosvenor, if it is not a secret, what do you do?
- No secret," Gerald replied. - I continue the investment strategy of my ancestors: land, building properties, selling and renting them out.
A greedy glint appeared in Millicent's eyes. She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue and said:
- Mr Grosvenor, we had plans to build a magical village. A small village within the UK. The location is not important, but preferably away from the settlements of ordinary people. Tell me, please, is it realistic to find land for such a construction?
- It's not only possible," Gerald replied, "I even have such land. Moreover, I can even build houses and infrastructure. How much land are we talking about?
- We need a village of a hundred houses, but preferably each household should have about five acres of land. Puffendoo alumni are eager for land to build farms and farming. Building is optional, we can do it ourselves quicker and cheaper.
- Would Scotland suit you? - Gerald asked the minister.
- Quite well, - Millicenta answered excitedly.
- In this case, I am ready on behalf of Grosvenors to lease the land to the wizards in perpetuity at the minimum price.
- Wonderful! - rejoiced the Minister of Magic. - I suggest to discuss the price and location of the land later. I will send you a competent specialist from the Department of Magic Economy. If you don't mind, it would be more convenient for us to work in magical currency. Unfortunately, only your son will be able to use the wizard bank.
- Oh! That's all right, - Gerald smiled broadly. - I'll register these lands to my son, and the rent will be paid to him by the tenants. Will eight hundred and forty acres of beautiful countryside suit you?
- Oh, yes!" said the minister. - It's even more than I expected. But if that is all...
- I dare not detain you," Gerald smiled dazzlingly.
- Madam... - Madam Minister looked at her companion and did not have time to finish her sentence.- Yes, yes, I'll come with you, too, my dear," the old woman left the cosy sofa. - Richard, I expect you on Saturday at nine o'clock in the morning. Don't be late.
The witches spun round and disappeared. Two faint claps sounded in the living room.
All of the elder Grosvenor's contrived calmness was instantly washed away. He leaned back tiredly on the sofa and asked in a hoarse voice:
- Charlie, did you see it too?
- How the two witches teleported? - Prince Charles asked.
- Yeah," Gerald confirmed with a nod of his head.
- No, I blinked at that moment," the prince replied mockingly. - Richie, what do you think about that?
- It's weird," the boy said. - I'm shocked at the capabilities of wizards, but it seems to be working out pretty well.
Richard was actually in a state of stupor. He reached out and took the silver bracelet. Thoughts flashed through the boy's mind:
"Is this little thing really capable of doing the same thing as a huge machine that requires a fusion reactor of increased power to power it? I mean, can it really move a person from one point on the planet to another? Can it go to another galaxy? My God! If that's really true, a couple of strokes of a wizard's wand could make billions. No, trillions! Portals could fundamentally change the logistics and capabilities of mankind. So why are mages still living on reservations instead of holding key positions in corporations with salaries like top executives?!"
The elder Grosvenor's voice brought the boy out of his musings:
- Well, Richie, now you'll have a small source of magical currency. At the same time, I have solved the problem of your status among wizards at once and greased the Minister of Magic.
- Not a bad move, Father," Richard admitted honestly. - I still have a lot to learn from you. To kill three birds with one stone for cheap and useless land in the Scottish countryside is admirable.
- Cheap?! - Gerald grinned. - They've been unprofitable for the last five years. Now they're going to make some money.
- That's even more marvellous! - Richard looked at his father with delight. - By the way, Uncle Charlie, do you think wizards could be brought into the business?
- What do you mean, Richard? - asked the prince.
- M-m-m..." the boy said thoughtfully. - Let's say, if you involve wizards in the development of new technologies.
- Only if secretly, - Charles answered. - Wizards have an international Statute of Secrecy. That is, wizards all over the world are obliged to hide from ordinary people. British magicians, if my memory serves me correctly, even have laws that forbid them to enchant technology and ordinary things.
- That's bad," Richie ran the back of his right hand along his chin. - Do you think that if the Minister's mistress was bribed with something, there would be a chance to change the laws? Say, create a loophole whereby mages could secretly enchant things for ordinary people who know about wizards?
Prince Charles thought for a moment, then gave the boy an answer:
- I suppose, Richie, that such a thing is possible. The price of the question! It all comes down to whether you can get the right people interested. But why would you do that, godson?
- Money! Uncle Charlie, there's a lot of money to be made in this. Not only that, but you could save even more money. I just can't imagine not taking advantage of a resource like magicians.
- I'm afraid it won't work," the prince shook his head negatively. - Ritchie, many people would like to use wizards for their own purposes, but mages don't want to.
- They just aren't motivated enough," Richard said with firm conviction.
- Richie, forget it," the prince decided to end the conversation there.
- Okay," the boy said, changing the subject. - Dad, why this decision with the land?
- That's a good question, son. From the scraps of information I understood the following. Firstly, wizards are few. Secondly, they have their own currency. It's like a casino with chips. That is, the casino's goal is that a person comes to them with his money, buys chips and leaves them all in the institution. If he takes the chips with him, they become useless.
- Curious," said Prince Charles. - So, G, do you imagine the society of wizards as a huge casino?
- Something like that," agreed Gerald. - You yourself heard the Minister's words - they need farmers. That means that the wizards use goods of their own production. Considering that she asked for a small area for farms, we can conclude that the consumption of wizards is small, as well as their numbers.
- G, what if we assume that with the help of magic, wizards harvest four record harvests a year? - Charles asked.
- Even that's not much, - Gerald waved away. - The point is different - wizards' chips, that is, their internal currency, are traded within the magical society. This means that the stock of magical currency is relatively small. Most likely, there is a possibility of exchanging pounds for their chips, so that wizards living among ordinary people can get their phantoms and become participants of the magical market. But in such a case there should be a restriction on exchange.
- Why the restriction? - The prince asked curiously. - I understood that mages still need pounds.
- A defence mechanism, which is inevitable in a society with such a stratification, - explained Gerald. - Let's say you and I are pure-blooded wizards. Our ancestors earned some fortune in chips that we're proud of. And then some upstart wizard comes along and pulls out a wad of pounds "for pocket change," which, when exchanged for chips, becomes more than our combined capital.
Charles grinned and said understandingly:
- Hah! Yes... Richie and the Grosvenor fortune will buy out the whole world of British wizards and make them collapse.
- That's what we're talking about," Gerald said to his friend. - That's why it would be best if Richie started saving up his chips now. A hundred tenant-farmers is a pretty good deal by any measure. A son in a mage environment will be able to be unrestricted. And given the small society in which rumours must spread quickly, Richie will gain a certain amount of notoriety. I understand that the school has several faculties, one of which is called Puffendui. Since our tenants will be graduates of that faculty, you, Richie, should try to get into it. You'll have authority there, or at least the rudiments of it, which will make it easier to adapt to wizarding society.
- Dad, I hear you, and I totally agree.
***
Richard looked forward to Saturday. But Wednesday came first.
On that day the head of the Wizarding Management Department of the Ministry of Magic had already managed to appear to Gerald Grosvenor, only at that moment Richard was busy with tutoring lessons on the third grade programme of the secondary school.
A contract had been signed with the representative of the wizarding governing body for the Ministry of Magic to lease a plot of land for a period of ninety years with the right to sublet it. At the end of this term, the tenants would pay money directly to the owner, that is, the Grosvenors. Until then, the Ministry of Magic is contractually obliged to pay Richard Grosvenor or his heir ten galleons a year per hectare, that is, a total of three thousand four hundred galleons annually.
Gerald told Richard about all this after dinner.
- Dad, what is a galleon? - The boy asked.
- Galleon is the largest "chip" of British magicians. It's kind of like gold. Mages have two other kinds of coins. A shekel - sort of like silver, there are seventeen of them in one galleon. And a knat - a small copper coin, there's twenty-nine of them in one shekel. All in all, a classic of the small community - everything is made to be different from regular people. Even with the coins, the mages got pretty twisted.
- Dad, why do you say "sort of"?
- Because, Richie, a single galleon is worth in the region of five pounds. In fact, there's just enough gold in a gallon and silver in a shekel to make them worth about the same, which is to say very little. Otherwise wizards would be carrying their currency to pawnbrokers in droves.
- Five pounds, eh? - Richard quickly worked out the rent in his mind. - Seventeen thousand pounds a year? - He wrinkled his face as if he'd eaten a lemon. - That's what I spent on a week's stay in Tokyo.
- I had to make concessions," said Gerald. - Think of it as a bribe for loyalty from the wizarding government.
- I'm sure the Ministry of Magic will charge two or three times the sublet price," Richard grumbled unhappily.
- I'm sure they will, son. They'll probably build the farms themselves at a minimum price and sell them to farmers on mortgages or long-term instalments at several times the cost of production. I gather that the Ministry of Magic doesn't have many ways to fill its coffers: taxes on wizard shopkeepers, excise taxes, duties on magical goods, fines. And mages have to go somewhere after school. Some will become farmers, some will go to work in a hospital for mages, and where will the rest go? In order not to breed crime, most mages are employed by the Ministry of Magic, and they all need to pay salaries. So the whole point of magical society in Britain is work for work's sake.
- It's just like the army - just so long as the soldier has something to do, so he doesn't have any free time for nonsense.
- Good point, Richie. By the way, wizards' salaries are small, and for all their efforts, the unemployment rate is quite high. The head of the Magical Economy Department gets only two hundred and fifty galleons a month.
- That's quite modest for a department head," Richard remarked. - My three and a half thousand a year looks like a good deal. It's even a little more than the salary of a ministerial bigwig. But it's still not enough. Dad, did you find out from the wizard how much money can be converted into chips?
- Of course, Richie. The only magical bank in Great Britain, which belongs to..." Gerald hummed meaningfully:- Goblins! They have a limit of a thousand pounds a month per wizard.
- That's not much. You can't do much with that kind of money... So goblins, eh?
- Goblins.
- Goblins?!
- Goblins!
- Dad, this is freakin' weird! Where do goblins even come from?
- That's a good question, Richie," a wry grin crept onto Gerald's face. - I wondered the same thing. Thankfully, the wizard was very sociable. He told me that about six hundred years ago, short people from another world appeared in our world, where there was a global catastrophe. They were two races: goblins - aggressive savages who were good at blacksmithing; house elves - powerful mages, but very gullible. The latter were enslaved by wizards using cunning, and they fought with goblins for a long time, until they found a niche for them by creating a bank, which they still own and manage.
- Yeah..." the boy said sceptically. - There are aliens living among us, and we haven't heard a word about them. But how sensible is it to put control over finances in the hands of aggressive aliens?
- Quite a good move, if you ask me," said Grosvenor Senior.
Richard's face contorted into a grimace that betrayed a ton of scepticism.
- I see, son, you don't believe it. I'll prove it to you.
- Try it, Dad.
- Look, son. We've got a small group of aliens and we've got a problem to solve. The most obvious way is genocide. But apparently the wizards didn't have the power to do that. Goblins tried to stay away from ordinary people, because they would definitely have enough strength to destroy the strange freaks, especially at that time the church was strong and it could arrange another crusade.
- Suppose so.
Mr Grosvenor continued:
- The wizards, for obvious reasons, did not want to attract the attention of a power like the church. So they made the decision to manage on their own. And then someone's brilliant mind came up with the idea of finding a niche for the goblins, where it would be unprofitable for them to leave. From this point of view, the creation of a goblin bank seems quite logical.
- I'm beginning to understand," Richard's scepticism was gone. - So it turns out that goblins think that they control the wizarding economy. Getting high profits, they themselves harassed their aggressive relatives. At the same time, they can't leave the underground. Firstly, the wizards will not allow them to do so, as it would violate the statute of secrecy. Secondly, they should understand perfectly well that only among magicians they are influential financiers, and in the ordinary world they are nobody and their name is nothing. Moreover, there are far more people now than in the Middle Ages. Weapons and ways of killing ordinary people are much better developed. At the same time, people were xenophobic and still are. That is, at best goblins will be guinea pigs in research labs, at worst - genocide. So they don't bother. It follows that with a high probability the mages trust the goblin bank.
Gerald applauded.
- Bravo! Bravo, Richie! An excellent demonstration of analytical skills.
The week flew by quickly. Richie didn't notice that Saturday came without studying and practising fencing.
Because of the extra lessons in magic, the boy had to revise his study schedule and reduce his training with the rapier from six times a week to five.
Being carried by a portal proved to be quite convenient. Richard put the enchanted bracelet on his arm and said:
- Portus.
Immediately the boy felt a jerk, as if someone had pushed him. The scenery changed abruptly. There he was in his bedroom, dressed in a smart three-piece suit, and a moment later he was in a completely unfamiliar place.
In front of Richard towered an old two-storey house, decorated in the style of classicism. Many columns and arches on the ground floor supported the open terrace-balcony of the first floor with arched windows. The walls of the house are made of white stone. The house itself was not large, but it was not small: it was about twenty metres long and about twelve wide.
Despite the cold season, there wasn't a snowflake around. The temperature was spring-like, and Richard felt a little hot in the coat he'd thrown on just in case. Instead of snowdrifts, the visitor saw smooth green lawns and bushes, trimmed in the shape of dragons, manticores and other unseen animals. Surprisingly, the bushes were also green.
Richard climbed the marble steps and went under the arched vault. The further path was blocked by huge double doors, on which hung a hammer.
When the hammer struck the bronze plate, the doors swung open by themselves. It was impossible to surprise him with such a trick, because in the world of his past residence electronics controlled almost everything, including almost every house had doors with automatic opening and control of all household appliances by voice commands.
Inside, the house didn't look much like a magical house. It felt like being in a museum. The whole place breathed of antiquity. Candles burned on the walls in massive bronze candlesticks, but there was no wax under them. It seemed as if they had been lit recently, for the candles had not had time to burn out even a little.
- Come here, my boy," came the old woman's loud voice from the back of the house.
Following the voice, Richie entered a large living room. The furniture was eighteenth-nineteenth century, with delicate wood carvings, but it looked as if it had just come out of a craftsman's workshop. The upholstery was new, dark green, and the varnish glistened as if freshly polished. Richard had something to compare it to, for he had a lot of rare furniture on his estate, and it certainly didn't look this good.
The old woman was sitting in an antique armchair with thin armrests near the fireplace where the fire burned. She wore a dark maroon dress after the fashion of the eighteenth century: puffy skirt, billowing short sleeves, closed at the throat, and toe-length.
- Good morning, Mistress," Richard bowed in greeting. - A charming dress, it suits you well.
- Oh, flatterer!
The old woman's lips parted in a smile, revealing an even row of snow-white teeth. Richard immediately thought that wizards have no problems with their teeth. Either they use high-quality dentures, or they have some secret that allows them to keep all their teeth intact at the age of over two hundred years. And apparently, the latter is more true.
- The youth of today is not what it used to be," said the old woman grumpily. - You can see a well-bred boy at once. Will you have tea, Richard?
- Thank you, ma'am, but I've just had my breakfast.
- Well, all right, then. Sit down.
Richard took the chair opposite the old lady. Madame Marchbanks asked:
- What do you know about magic?
- Nothing, ma'am.
- Just as I thought! - Madame Marchbanks stated. - Remember, boy, magic is omnipresent and you can do anything with it. If someone says that something can't be done with magic, then he is deeply mistaken or deliberately misleading and probably hasn't even tried to look for other ways, because magic is also multifaceted. Do you know about Harry Potter?
Richard did not tell the whole truth, he told the official point of view:
- Ma'am, I'm familiar with the name. I work for a charity for orphans and there's a boy with the name Harry Potter. He also has a lightning bolt scar on his forehead and bad eyesight that makes him wear glasses.
- Oh! Poor chap! - exclaimed Madame Marchbanks, without playfulness. - I had forgotten that you, as if you were a Muggle-born, knew nothing. That boy is definitely the same Harry Potter. I wonder where you might have seen him?
- Harry lives with his carers, I think it's his mother's sister and her husband.
- Yes, yes, that makes sense," the old woman remarked. - The whole world was wondering where Harry Potter had gone.
- What's your point, ma'am?
- Oh, yes, Harry is famous for surviving the Avada Kedavra death spell you used to scare Millie and me so badly. No-one's ever survived that spell before, and Harry did. I mean, even though everyone says it's impossible to survive Avada, Harry survived it, even though he was scarred. Poor boy! I think his parents had a ritual to protect him. Too bad they didn't have time to share their achievement with the other wizards.
- Well, magic can do anything. Right, ma'am?
- That's right, boy! That's right! Take it from a woman who's seen a lot. I suppose you want to learn powerful spells right away?
- I rely on your experience, Mistress," Richard replied politely.
- I know you boys," the old woman said grumpily, "you always want to do something big... Something that goes bang, that goes up in flames. And you tomboys like to fly on a broomstick instead of going to school!
- I couldn't agree more, ma'am. I like to learn.
Richard found it hard to imagine flying on a broomstick at all. Having a rich imagination, he almost physically felt how the broomstick was digging into the bells. Such a vivid picture made the bells shrink. If they had been able to speak, they would have shouted in a thin voice: "Master, to hell with such entertainment! You'll need us later."
- Just like Albus," said Madame Marchbanks sweetly. - I remember as if it were yesterday when I was part of the Ministerial Commission taking exams with that brat. Oh, what a spell he had at PSB! He was a sight to behold. He spent more time studying than playing, too. As a result, he's now Headmaster of Hogwarts, a respected wizard. And if he'd been flying on a broom instead of studying, he'd have blown his brains out!
"Maybe not just brains," Richie thought. - 'Clever man, that Albus, I bet the bells thanked him.
Madame Marchbanks pulled her pointer from her belt, waved it, and a large box appeared on a nearby table. With another wave of the pointer, the lid of the box swung open.- And yet, Richard, we are going to learn enchantments today, but we will start with the simplest ones. For that you need to choose a wand.
Richie realised that by wand he meant a wooden pointer. Walking over to the table, he found several magic wands in a box.
- Touch them and choose the one you like best," the tutor encouraged the boy.
Richard touched all the wands, and one of them felt faintly warm. He took it in his right hand.
- Wonderful! - the old woman marvelled loudly. - My father's wand. He was a great charmer. Now wave it, wish for light and say Lumos.
Richard followed the instructions. It didn't work the first time, but he kept waving the wand. It wasn't until the tenth time that a yellow glowing ball of light appeared at the tip of the wand. It didn't shine very brightly, like an electric camping lantern with three high-powered LEDs in a circular pattern. It wasn't bad if you didn't have a lantern handy, but Richard didn't find the spell particularly useful.
- Not bad," the mentor said. - But it could have been better. Your problem, Richard, is unbelief. You have not yet believed in the omnipotence of magic. You must believe and wish. The more clearly a wizard wishes for a result, the faster he will get it.
Richie kept his gaze on the ball of light. He shook his wand, trying to shake it off. But the ball of light was stuck to the tip of the wand and would not go out.
- Erm, ma'am... How do you extinguish it?
- Just tell Knox and wish for the light to go out.
- Knox!
The light did go out. Richard was pleased to learn a new way to use his superpower.
- Now," the old woman began, "repeat this spell a hundred times. Then rest for a while and do it again.
- And then I have to rest and do it again? - Richard asked apprehensively.
- That's an amazing insight, young man! You will repeat the charms until you can perform them non-verbally. I think we can do it in a month. It would be a shame if someone found out that my apprentice is so clueless that he can't perform the simplest of non-verbal charms.
- And I suppose we'll be learning very few spells?
- My boy," Madame Marchbanks said with cold severity in her voice, making Richard shiver, "it is not necessary for a wizard to know a lot of spells. But it is highly desirable to perfectly master a small everyday set.
- Everyday kit, ma'am? - Richard raised his eyebrows questioningly.
- Spells that will make a wizard's life easier," Madame Marchbanks explained. - To lighten the darkness, to summon and repair things, to lift weights, to cut something off or glue it on, to unlock or lock it away, and so on. I'll teach you basic charms that any pureblood wizard in my youth knew by heart before Hogwarts. It's the wizards who are a bit slow-witted these days. Even purebloods don't teach their children spells. They say they'll learn everything at school, why spoil their childhood?! Ugh! Squirrels! A friend of mine has been teaching her grandson herbology since he was a baby. I think she's doing the right thing!
Mentor threw a frown at the boy and added:
- What are we waiting for? Or have you already completed the first hundred lumos?
- No, no, ma'am," Richard shook his head. - It's just that you were so interesting. Lumos! Knox! Lumos...