"Gerald has excellent security. Richie, I wanted with all my heart to see you when you were leaving for Hogwarts, but there was always someone with you. I could have been detained and handed over to the Department of Mysteries, and they would have handed me over to my father. Many years have passed, but I'm certain he hasn't forgotten anything. Crouches generally find it difficult to forget. And my mum and little brother are gone now—they died—so there's no point hoping for their help. Father wouldn't care about my age: an Imperius Curse in the back and a magical marriage to a murderous wizard—slavery, in all but name."
"Nevertheless, Mother, you found a way to meet me," Richard said sceptically.
"Yes." Buffy looked at her son with a warmth that would have been difficult to fake. "Son, I had to go to a great deal of trouble to find a moment when you'd be without your security. Working out the date of the Hogsmeade visit wasn't difficult. I knew you'd be here today. So I arranged my leave in advance and entered Britain illegally. I'm so happy to see you. My boy, you've grown so mature and serious, but you're still just as sweet as you were when you were little."
Richard felt lost. He didn't know how to react. On the one hand, this woman had abandoned him, but from her point of view, she had had her reasons.
"Richie, I've followed all your achievements," Buffy said warmly. "You're such a clever boy. I've kept every newspaper clipping that mentions your name, every recording of your interviews on videotape. I could never have imagined that my beloved son would achieve such incredible success."
"Mother, thank you for saying that, but to be honest, I'm not ready to accept you yet. I can understand, but forgive..."
"Son, I've wronged you." Buffy lowered her head sadly. "I don't even know how I could ever make amends..."
"Don't." Richard shook his head. "Atonement isn't something I'd want from the woman who gave me life. You must understand that after all these years, I simply can't throw my arms around your neck and exclaim, 'Mum, Mum, so what if you abandoned me eight years ago? I don't remember you, but I forgive you.' You're a stranger to me—someone I'm essentially meeting for the first time. But thank you for being honest with me."
"And thank you, son, for not sending me away," Buffy whispered. "Forgive me... Forgive me, darling."
Richard slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a chequebook. He quickly filled in a cheque, tore it out and handed it to his mother. Her large eyes widened in astonishment as she stared at the piece of paper. A deep furrow appeared on the blonde woman's brow.
"What is this supposed to mean?" she asked in bewilderment, then added with a note of anger, "I won't take Gerald's handouts!"
"What does Father have to do with it?" Richard raised his right eyebrow slightly. "Mother, if you've been following my life, then you should know that I managed to become wealthy in my own right. Yes, of course Father helped me in every way he could, but this is my money. I don't want my mother scraping by."
"Son, but this is far too much." Buffy's belligerence evaporated. "Ten million dollars... That's an astronomical sum!"
"If you don't take the money, I'll be offended," Richard said flatly. "And don't take risks like this again. Would you like Grandfather Barty to stop being a danger to you?"
"What?!"
Buffy recoiled in horror. She stared at her son with wide eyes, unable to believe she had heard him correctly.
"Richie, are you suggesting we kill Grandad?" Her lips trembled. "He's still my father..."
"Kill him?!" Grosvenor drawled with a touch of irony. "Is that the only way to make sure someone poses no danger? No, Mum, you've been imagining all sorts of nonsense."
"What else could you do?" Buffy asked with relief.
"Plenty of things." Richard clasped his hands in front of him. "For example, arrange for the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation to be sent on a very lengthy assignment abroad. Or speak to him privately and give him an ultimatum: if he dares hand a relative of the Royal Family—that is, you—over as a slave, neither he nor that slave-owning wizard will live to regret it. If Grandad has even a shred of sense, he won't dare touch you."
"Son!" Tears of joy once again glistened at the corners of Buffy's eyes. "You've grown so mature! I'm so pleasantly surprised that you care about me. But darling, I don't want you getting into a confrontation with Grandad."
"Mother, believe me, I couldn't care less about Mr Crouch. He means absolutely nothing to me. But you... you're my mother. I can come to an arrangement with Father as well. You'll be able to live in Britain without having to worry. And I can find you a better job in the family business. In my wizarding business! Mother, think about it. I don't expect an answer any time soon, but do give it some serious thought."
(End of Chapter)
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