— Why are we doing this? And what kind of rituals are these? — The man in the prime of his life, usually quite vociferous, was now pale, his face covered in sweat, breathing heavily, and his hands trembling. It should be noted that he was not the only one in such a state, but more than two dozen mages, sorceresses, witches, and wizards. A dozen battle mages of Asian appearance were standing guard.
— The boss said we have to do it, so we're doing it... — the other man shrugged and slowly moved away from the last, most exhausting ritual. — Or don't you like the conditions? — grinned the man.
— No-no! — the man reacted a little more animatedly, looking at the young mulatto woman (or is she of Arab descent?) who was in charge of the rituals, and who was the main person in charge of this "event", next to her were several other girls and women, and only one teenager, silent and a little twitchy. The man was afraid of being misunderstood, and he really appreciated this job, and he managed to get a very decent job in London: a nice house in the suburbs, the family is happy, what more do you need? — I'm happy with everything, but this time the job is clearly not in our profile....
— That's true, — he nodded, raising his eyes thoughtfully to the frowning sky. — But Maggie explained that the rituals are powerful and you can't do them alone, but you can trust your own, so they hired us.
— I remember, — the man said, waving his hand. — I'm interested in why we're doing this, and what is this... "this"?
The answer was another shrug. For a while, people just rested, while some of the wives of those present brought hot drinks and sandwiches, and vials of high quality potion with no side effects at all. Admittedly, everyone from Skillful Hands had been surprised at first that the potions of their employer, who was actually "boss" because their company had been working exclusively for him for the last few months, not even taking small orders from outsiders — they just didn't have time for it, they were used to the fact that every potion had side effects, usually very unpleasant or just plain unpleasant.
Here, they tried not to abuse the potions they were given as "service to the employer and care for the staff", they thought they were the same, but soon they were all surprised at how effective the potions and infusions were, and how free of side effects they were. It was clear why Hoshino's shop in the local magic district was such a success, not to mention the other items.
Judging by the man's rapid success, they were right to agree to join him. As people relaxed, they chatted, joked, laughed, some played cards (a group of rowdy Irishmen), and only the "host" group behaved the most quietly, as if they were frozen before the jump.
As always, without the usual applause, the boss arrived: an impenetrable cloud of silvery mist formed in an empty clearing, cleared of snow and with the ground dried by spells, which dissipated a moment later, revealing Hoshino himself to the world. Standing beside him were two teenage girls, a beautiful Asian girl with a mischievous expression and a tall blonde girl with a somewhat distracted and naive face.
One of the teenagers was clearly his daughter — very similar, but the other was familiar to most, if not all of them — she had been written about in the newspapers, and it was for her that some of those present had gone down into the dungeons of the Death Factory. From a distance, it was impossible to hear what the arrivals were saying, but there was no fuss or excessive excitement, except that the now famous brown-haired woman kept frowning her thin eyebrows and trying to fix her hair, apparently forgetting that it was in a tight braid.
The blonde standing next to her smiled softly with a dreamy expression on her face, then took the brown girl under her arm and whispered something in her ear, which made her relax a little and even smile gratefully at her friend. Looking around, Hoshino walked over to the mulatto woman who was leading the rituals, who was already standing up and waiting for the boy — an obvious attempt to show off — most of them thought, and only a few were thinking of something else, but did not voice their thoughts.
Hoshino nodded smartly as they spoke briefly, and many noticed the angry looks one of the women, an Asian woman who had been part of the guard, gave him, as if she had been insulted and didn't feel the need to apologize. Very few people knew who the woman was, Hoshino Junko, and only they could guess what the woman might be unhappy about, since she, the boss's mother, was not in charge of the event.
After a few more minutes, the entire "host" group went to the gate of the mansion. Everyone was curious to see how the guy was going to open the heavy and high wrought-iron gates, which were covered with ominous patterns, with only one letter in the middle, without a coat of arms, "Y". And the whole surrounding landscape looked gloomy and unfriendly, as if nature itself were saying: "Witches live here, evil witches", even in the air there was something "like that", implicit, but not good for sure.
And the building itself seemed to loom over the land around it, looking down on it with an arrogant, scowling sneer. An unpleasant, repulsive feeling from a dark, almost black manor house with tall towers and spires on top, lancet windows with dark panes, and black doors. To the surprise and even some disappointment of the observers, Hoshino opened the gates easily and effortlessly: he approached them, applied something to the metal, and in a few seconds, they opened by themselves, and his group went inside, as well as a group of Asian fighters.
No one could see what was going on inside, of course, but people could feel how, after about an hour, a dense wave of air, like a weak shock wave, dispersed from the building, and the "threat" in the air became much less, and the mansion itself somehow brightened sharply. After some more time, the black glass suddenly became transparent, lights appeared in it, and a group of people who had entered the building came out: the boss himself, his mulatto, Afiri, a curly-haired schoolgirl, a strange young woman with gray disheveled hair, a girl with a cunning face, and a blond father and daughter.
All of them looked a little tired but content, especially the blonde girl whose hair glittered with white metal of fine workmanship, a diadem with a white "misty" stone on her forehead. And a cunning girl, with a broad smile, clinging to the arm of the slightly confused blond man. They were immediately approached by those who had stayed outside, and after some more conversation, all of them, the staff of Skillful Hands resting after the rituals, were called into the manor grounds.
As it turned out, the magical family had just formed a full magical family and immediately held the first ritual on the family stone — a magical wedding between Lord Xenophilius Lovegood and a shifter witch named Kurumi, now also a Lovegood. They were invited to celebrate the affair — first by working together to prepare everything necessary, and then to have a noisy party — to eat and drink in honor of the newlyweds.
Everyone liked the idea. With the help of magic, simple furniture and decorations were no problem to prepare, and the local house elves simply took care of the treats, so that by the time all those who wanted to celebrate returned with the relatives they were leaving for, the tables were already overflowing with goodies. Hot fires were burning, four noisy Irishmen began to play and sing cheerful songs for the honored crowd, and the weather seemed to take it to heart, blessing the magical population with sunshine and a light, warm breeze that lovingly rubbed ribbons and banners.
People walked, ate, drank, had fun, shouted greetings to the young, and joked harmlessly with the obviously embarrassed Lovegood. With each passing hour, the sun seemed to rise brighter and warmer in the dark manor, and the chilly darkness gradually disappeared under the pressure of light and warmth. The people rejoiced at the unexpected celebration, making merry, unaware that today the Yaxley family had passed into oblivion in this place. A family of dark, even black wizards and sorcerers. Today, the severed head of the last living member of the family, Corbin Yaxley, fell upon the family altar, and when magic manifested the victor's regalia to continue his story, they were destroyed along with the altar.
A terrible catastrophe could have happened, the house would have collapsed and the surrounding lands would have been covered with a terrible curse, but all this did not happen, thanks to the various and very powerful rituals performed earlier. And in the place of the destroyed altar there was a new slab with a new name, clean of curses and evil. The new altar for the new family took its first breath, and the spirits placed the gifts of Xenophilius' daughter in it, firmly anchoring them for centuries and even longer.
The guardian was an old spirit who had slept in the thicket of one of the forests for over five hundred years, her mighty silvery-brown loom manifesting above the towers of the manor as the people walked. With a wave of magic that destroyed all traces of the Yaxley family, the spirit struck the tallest spire, and a new crest appeared on the tallest tower — the crest of the Lovegood family — a young, long-haired maiden with ribbons in her hair, and walking beside her was a full-grown, proud stag with silver horns and hooves, his powerful neck adorned with a beautiful wreath of herbs and flowers. In her hands the maiden held a book and a bouquet of night violets.
Throughout magical Britain and beyond, the lines associated with the Yaxley clan have been blackened on the tapestries of the clans. Never again will it come to life, erased from hearts and forgotten...