"Follow me," said a short, grey-skinned goblin, not young by their standards, but still far from grey eyebrows. We didn't know each other, but that wasn't necessary here. A turn, another turn, and finally he turns into a small door. I follow him, water dripping from my clothes onto the floor. I don't even try to cast a household spell. I'll need every last bit of my personal magic soon.
Inside is a small hall with a raised platform in the middle. Several goblins bare their teeth. The last day cost me a thousand Galleons. That's how much I had to pay for the goblins' time and free admission to this small ritual hall.
"Everything is ready, Mr. O'Henley," he grinned smugly, clearly convinced that I wouldn't last. But clinging to life with my teeth was my natural state. The hall was marked with restraining runes, and around the platform stood seven bowls with potions necessary for my survival. That was in case Magic accepted the ransom. Nearby, right on the floor, stood a black box. It was its contents that had drained me of every penny I had earned.
"Let's begin," my head was spinning faster and faster, the goblins left the room with a sneer, sealing the door from the other side. Now it would only open in twelve hours. And hopefully, I would be able to walk out of here on my own two feet.
After gulping down the contents of one cup, I took off all my clothes and artefacts; they were of no use now. I took the box and placed it on the pedestal. I didn't want to take any chances.
"Let there be Day, let there be Night. Your Majesty has no beginning and no end. The world bows before your will. Hear the plea of earthly creatures. I beg you for redemption in my life, from punishment and departure to the Grey Realms..." Over the years, I had memorised the words, sometimes repeating them in my head for days on end, trying to understand how I could live in a world where such POWER existed. And my body was twisted by magical threads, then stretched and lifted slightly upwards. It was scary. No, not scary. TERRIFYING. The feeling inside was clammy, and I wanted to throw off this abomination like old clothes, just so I wouldn't be so insignificant. At least in my own eyes.
"CRACK!
The box cracked and crumbled into ashes right on the platform, and I was unceremoniously thrown down. No words, no communication with a higher being. Who was I to such beings? A worm? Or even lower?
The fear finally let go, but my body felt heavy, and I couldn't get up. So I crawl to the next cup and force the liquid that smells like shit into myself. Their potions are so disgusting, you could mistake them for sewage. I lean my back against the stone where I paid the price for destroying the Clan.
I wonder if the Dark Lord felt it?
I did not want to abandon my plans to destroy the Lestranges. Not for a second. As long as they are alive, I will always have a chance to die. What embittered me most was my status as an eternal victim of various hunters. That is why my plan consisted of many pieces, all of which, in one way or another, had to lead to its fulfilment. The stumbling block was the price, the ransom for destroying the family. Gold? No. Artifacts? I don't even know what kind would be suitable. Jewels, I don't think so. My thoughts kept returning to Tom's crucifixions. He had many sins before the Magic, and I hope that for the Higher Worldview, his destruction was more valuable than my little life.
Flashback
"Imperio," I watched one of the Ravenclaw boys walk away. Third or fourth year. Still rather awkward, but not exactly small. Unforgivable, even in my execution, it easily stuck to his personality. And it's much easier to lie in wait for a lone "raven" in Hogsmeade than for wizards from other houses. Under his cloak, my unwitting accomplice carried away a small black box. That was where the famous diadem was to go. A week should be enough to find and then retrieve the Horcrux before my next visit to the village. I strictly warned the boy to only touch the filthy thing with special gloves. I had to buy them at an exorbitant price from the same goblins. But at least there won't be any unnecessary casualties.
End of flashback
I was overcome by sleep, not deep, more like delirium. It seemed to me that I was once again wandering the corridors of Azkaban, only there were no prisoners, not even the familiar Dementors. I just walked through the corridors, turning, going up and down, but never finding a way out.
I woke up from the terrible cold, my body literally shaking, although I was sure that nothing had changed around me. It was just the next stage of the ritual's effects. I reached for the other bowls. With great effort, I drank a few more, and this would be repeated many times over the next ten hours. But it was worth it. Gradually, my body stopped shaking, and my mind began to sink back into my memories.
Flashback
Dolokhov evaluated my every step, glance, movement. It seemed as if he could sense when I was coming. He would begin his stories as soon as my foot took the first step from the landing onto the floor. They were lectures, like at university or school. Excerpts about historical eras flew from his lips and cut into my brain with a dry, sometimes hoarse voice. I didn't show it, but every time I came home, I looked for more information. Who lived, what they did, why events turned out the way they did. It was only after a year of his stories that it finally dawned on me. The magicians of the Antonin family were directly or indirectly involved in all these events. He was giving me information about the life of his family.
"Why?" I couldn't help but ask. I lit the camera with Lumas and calmly looked at the predator lurking in the prison cell.
"Because I wanted to," he said, baring his teeth so fiercely that I didn't ask any more questions.
End of Flashback
The goblins came quietly and placed a simple robe and a pile of clothes next to me. I slowly got to my feet and began to get dressed. I had survived, and it had been worth the risk, given how they treated me. They were a bloodthirsty people, and if it weren't for their oaths, they would have spilled everyone's blood.
I left Gringotts, pulling my hood deep over my head. There weren't many mages around, and the air seemed thick with tension; the magical population was already in a panic. As I walked by, I could only hear snatches of conversation.
"... they escaped..."
"... the boy says HE's back..."
"... run abroad."
Sliding like a shadow into the nearest alley, I clench the portkey. I have many of them. In addition to the main one, which I used to escape from Azkaban, I had three spare ones. Five more were now comfortably tucked away in various corners of my clothes, intended to save my life. They led to different places.
I am transported to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A small, handmade hut has stood there for a long time. It was hardly a house. It was difficult to see my refuge, as it was almost completely dug into the ground. Walking across its roof, not every animal would realise that something was wrong here. And there was also an amulet to ward off evil eyes. To protect myself from werewolves, I now always wear a small artefact — a bracelet that removes odours. I collapse inside. It's time to rest. I can sleep now.
***
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