Horace Slughorn is dead. The old man was caught and tortured to death. Finally, they gave him to the young ones to "practice" on. Malfoy told me the news. He was practically friends with the potions master. He learned of his fate from the new Death Eaters who were "resting" in the Dungeon.
"We need to lay low." "I saw the old wizard gathering everything he needed with a wave of his wand," he said. "You know, you can't hide in England." His departure meant one thing to me: the loss of an excellent dealer and smuggler.
"When can we expect you?" The shelves were quickly emptying, and a second suitcase with extra space was already being filled to the brim with various ingredients.
"Never!" I shouted and smiled smugly. "This place is doomed, Patrick. It's rotten." Spitting, I began to pack even faster. And I realised that the magical contract would not save me. One of the clauses stated that in the event of mortal danger, either partner could terminate the agreement. Of course, he wouldn't be able to say anything about me, either directly or indirectly. But losing such an opportunity to sell ingredients was a shame. Eh-h. And then another idea popped into my head.
"Who will you leave the pharmacy to?" I looked around at the empty but sturdy walls. And the house was two stories high. The ground floor was a shop, and the upper floor was living quarters. I remembered the Weasley twins, who had opened their shop during the worst times. Even though terror had now descended, a location and a ready-made house on the street were a luxury.
"I'll sell it through the goblins," he said, seeing that the mage was about to use the port key, and hurried.
"How much do you want? Maybe I'll buy it?" He looked sceptically at my rags, then grinned again.
"I don't beg for poverty. But since you're interested, I'll ask for 800 Galleons. In peaceful times, I could get a thousand and a half, but now, you understand, it's not certain that tomorrow some crazy Avada won't hit here." While he was talking, I calculated my finances. Even taking into account the expenses for the planned ritual and the rental of some artefacts, I could afford it. It would be tight, but the forest was nearby, and although the goblins reduced their prices, they bought everything.
"Agreed," I said with a smirk, which made the mage's face contort, even though he should have been used to my unearthly beauty by now.
"Where will you get the money?" He raised his eyebrow sceptically and glanced around, not believing me. I hoped he wouldn't run away.
"In Gringotts. We can call a consultant right here and arrange the sale." Malpepper nodded in agreement, and we went up to the second floor. There we could use the fireplace and call a goblin to our home. As it turned out, in this case, there was an additional charge of 10 Galleons per hour.
After a couple of hours and a lot of wasted nerves, Malpepper spat out one last time and activated the portkey. The goblin grinned, congratulated us on our "valuable" purchase, and left through the fireplace. My sense of danger howled, and the alarm spells on the front door went off immediately after him. The apothecary must have come to pick him up. I carefully approached the stairs and looked down. Sure enough, black robes, white masks, pure-blooded freaks.
Suddenly, I remembered a song:
"White masks at the neighbouring gate,
Sticks, handcuffs, mouths gagged..." (DDT, "Rodina")
He couldn't escape, so his only hope was the port keys he had purchased through Gringotts. They cost a fortune, but the goblins guaranteed that they would allow him to escape from under the anti-apparition domes.
One of the Devourers was climbing the steps. Not a single spell had been cast at them. Either they weren't afraid of the apothecary, or it was just young recruits. I wanted to linger a little, I wasn't afraid. It was more like anticipation of another hunt. Would my new opponents be stronger than the mercenaries on my head? I pressed myself against the wall, the shadow fell very conveniently here.
"Avada Kedavra," I hadn't shouted that spell in a long time, but whispered it as if saying goodbye to another victim. As the body began to fall backwards, I jumped towards the corpse and dragged it into the corridor. I listened and cautiously peeked around the corner. Two beams flew past my face. Green and red.
"Come out, you bastard! What did you do to William?" So much anger and emotion. I grin, remembering Bella. Compared to her, everyone else seemed like a pale imitation of rage.
"Malpep, surrender, and maybe the Dark Lord will let you..." I didn't hear what they wanted to offer. And why should I? They were clearly young, Dolokhov's former pupils wouldn't have acted like that. I remove a small bright orange bracelet from my left wrist. With the help of Vingardio Leviosa, I throw it down and quickly activate the port key. I had no desire to join the local dead. The poison from several cells in the bracelet had already begun to destroy everything living in the house and would soon spread through the air throughout the room. I jerk forward and, instead of the usual transfer, I am dragged across the glass, still alive.
"A-a-a," was all I could manage to croak.
"Oh, Mr. O'Hanley, did you use the portkey so soon?" the goblin asked with a smile. My vision was still blurry, but the room looked vaguely familiar, with stone walls and ceiling and sterile cleanliness.
"Am I in Gringotts?" The contract stated that when activated in such conditions, the port key would transport the mage to a "safe place."
"You're observant," the goblin said with a grin. "As you can see, the bank has fulfilled its obligations to you, so you may leave this humble abode." This time, the escort turned out to be a real pain in the neck.
"I still have an order," I said, still dizzy and nauseous from passing through the dome.
"A potion? An artefact?" Apparently, the short man was well acquainted with my orders.
"Fidelus for the Apothecary. I just bought it today." He grinned again. Oh, their faces were ugly, uglier than mine. Probably.
"You know the prices." Remembering their price list, I grimaced even more. The ritual would have to be postponed.
"And one more thing," the goblin was already about to leave.
"Yes?
"Potions for me. And be careful with the pharmacy, I used your artefact, 'Yellow Narcissus'. If you have to remove it, deduct it from my safe." – It's a good thing the pharmacy is mine, otherwise the little men would have had to report it to the Auror, and self-defence would automatically have turned into an attack. Most likely on pure-bloods.
They looked at me appraisingly and left. All that was left to do was wait for the potions to be brought. I was unable to get up myself.
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