HP: Spirit Talker

It is not easy to listen to a man like Lucius Malfoy. People like him are used to feeling like a 'superior race', and that's what the British have long been used to thinking of themselves. They, and they alone, are always and in everything right, their truth is the only truth, and only their view of the world is correct. Gentlemen and ladies.

And here's a vivid example of such a man: he burst in and started... no, not asking, demanding! He wants me to do something right away. No explanations or questions, I was simply confronted with the fact that I had to show the world, in the person of Lucius, a miracle that would solve all their problems right now.

Silently finishing the second approach on the bars, so as not to disrupt the rhythm and proper breathing, I pondered, "Should I send him to hell?" and looked at the man. He lost all my respect with this behavior.

No, I understand that Draco seems to be in great danger since they've even asked me, but is this any way to ask? And what makes him think I can do anything?

And yet, Lucius seemed to have faked it professionally before, but now he was real. I'd believed him to be a normal man, not without his own peculiarities, of course, with an adjustment to the race, so to speak. But his current behavior is too much. I have my pride, after all. But.

There's always a "but". I think I've mentioned more than once how I used Shikigami to spy on Miyazaki? Uh-huh. And in one of the classes taught by the grandson of the former head of the clan, the true head of a family and a clan should always seek and take advantage.

This case has nothing to do with my code of life, so you shouldn't have spoken to me like that, Mr. Malfoy. It was a mistake. I was also offended by the whole "If you don't hurry, you'll know all my influence..." thing.

Finishing the third approach under the outpouring of the angry, red-faced aristocrat, I do a few simple movements from gymnastics along with special breathing techniques, gradually calming the body and energy.

— Mr. Malfoy, I'm going to take a shower, get dressed, and you and I are going to examine your heir...

— There's no time to waste! — Arrogantly, dropping his mask completely, he almost hissed at the aristocrat. — There are many charms for purification, and since you do not know how to do it yourself.... — Arrogance and insolence literally saturated his every word.

I silently turned around and went to the shower room, ignoring everything that was said in my wake. Although "ignore" wasn't quite right, it was more accurate to say that I was flipping imaginary bills, each word of the blond aristocrat raising the price higher and higher. I'm afraid if he keeps this up, he'll end up a beggar. I even feel a little sorry for him, but who am I lying to? I don't feel sorry for him at all.

I didn't take too long in the shower, but I wasn't in a hurry to take care of myself — not only women should take care of themselves, but a man looks more attractive when he has well-groomed hair, hands and face. I just got dressed the other day with a custom-made dark blue, almost black coat with a dark blue floral pattern, a double set of large silver buttons (protective amulets), and a stand-up collar with a powerful protective amulet sewn into it. And it looks chic and functional — give everyone perfume! When I left the changing room, Malfoy wasn't hissing, and his cheekbones were already open.

We walked out of the castle in silence, except that on the way out we ran into McGonagall, to whom I informed her that I was leaving for an indefinite period of time to possibly (Malfoy glared at the word) help Draco. The Dean listened, said she would report to the Headmaster, and then reminded me of my obligation to be at the ball.

As soon as we were outside the school gates, I was unceremoniously grabbed by the arm and we were both dragged through a portal. I could have fought back — I'd already learned how to do that with portals, you have to make a directed release of magic, form a shock cone of raw power that would penetrate the transport cocoon of portal magic. But why?

I mean, the bill keeps getting higher and higher. We arrived at a special platform in one of the mansion's halls, and from there I was dragged along again. Corridors, passable living rooms, and a great hall. In a few minutes we entered a rather spacious room, practically empty, except for a wide couch with a patient on it, standing in some ritual circle, emitting a measured silver glow, and a table on which was a considerable battery of various glassware with some substances: liquids, powders, ointments, etc. Wizards were there.

Sorcerers were also found. The Lady of the Manor, Narcissa Malfoy, frowning, concentrated, watched every action performed on her only son. Four wizards were powering an elaborate circle, two were holding a strange magical structure that incomprehensibly affected the boy.

Two older wizards were quietly discussing the progress of the work, and six more wizards were stationed at the far wall, obviously for a shift change of those currently working. Besides the humans, I sensed two house elves in the room under invisibility.

— Get to work! — Lucius' loud command drew attention to us, but most of us immediately went back to work or rest, and only the lady of the house kept her eyes on me.

I walked to the edge of the circle without saying a word; it would be crazy to enter the area where an unknown structure was operating. I decided to look around with my normal eyes first. Draco was clearly in pain, judging by the sweat pouring out of him, the feverish spots on his skin, his clenched jaw and his trembling.

But that was nothing compared to the way his body was trembling, and for a few fleeting moments, his features were changing, fading slightly. And not just his face: when I looked closer, I could see that the figure of the guy in the simple white pajamas was also subtly changing in shape and size. I tried to figure out what was going on for a minute before I spat and looked at his aura and spirit shells.

My first impulse was to curse rudely. There were three powerful, strong curses fighting inside this guy, or not quite anymore: two quite old and one quite new, but imbued with serious power and obviously strengthened by rituals and potions.

If it weren't for the spirits' gift to me on Samhain, and my recent prank of letting a huge power flow through me, I wouldn't have seen what I see now without a deep meditation with an exit from my body. A few minutes of work with the consciousness, a push, and I am literally thrown to the limit of immersion in the spiritual world. I think I can already try to break through the next barrier, but that's for later. Right now I was studying the condition of the Malfoy Heir.