Prophecy

- Armand! - The Lord's harsh voice reached Lupin through the pounding of his heart in his temples and the frantic rush of blood. His whole body ached, but the werewolf's beastly stamina kept him conscious for now. - Heal this one and make sure he doesn't die before morning.

- Very well, Master," the voice of the unknown man said softly. - Aquamenti. Escuro. Escuro.

A stream of water rushed over the werewolf, washing the blood and dirt from his face and clothes.

- Drink. - A cup of water was shoved under Lupin's nose. A few healing spells followed; the jailer, or just one of the Drowned, was clearly a good medic.

Iron clinked sharply away from the werewolf, and Lupin felt the chains lengthening from the wall.

- You'll sleep against the wall. They'll pull you up again in the morning.

- Let's see what we've got here," a mocking voice said from the darkness. A tall, powerful man with platinum hair that reached almost to his waist appeared in the light of several dim torches.

The man in the black robe, chained and shackled to the wall just like the werewolf, remained silent. He had already been patched up-the arm broken by Remus's spell had been healed, leaving only a dull aching pain, and the healer, unknown to the killer, had not wasted potions, limiting himself to using healing spells. The man had spent the last few hours since waking up in a semi-dark room filled with the sounds of water dripping in the distance and the echoes of frantic screams fading into the damp, musty air of the dungeon.

- Crucio. - Lucius Malfoy looked at the man thrashing in chains with satisfaction. After enduring the torture for about a minute, the blond man briefly cast a cancellation spell and continued the interrogation. - You have the mark of the Lord on your clothes, but you are not one of his servants. Who are you?

- Я... of Alex Barton's group. A mercenary. It took the man much longer to come to his senses.

- Why are you wearing the Lord's mark?

- I was ordered to. - The man straightened up against the wall with more confidence.

- Crucio. - Again cries of pain filled the underground chamber. - This is for you for daring to use the symbol of the Lord without any right to do so. Crucio.

After looking at the prisoner writhing in chains for a while, the aristocrat cancelled the spell.

- Finite. Ennervate. AddeVitality. - Satisfied with what he had seen, the aristocrat sat comfortably in the chair opposite the prisoner hanging from the chains.

With trembling hands the man grasped the chains, yanking the fallen body upwards.

- Who sent you? The target?

- I was sent. sent by Alex Burton. the commander. our squad leader.

- Aquamenti. - Malfoy said nonchalantly. - Come to your senses quickly, before you experience my Cruciatus again. Why were you sent to Hogsmeade, and what were you doing near Lupin?

- I was sent to kill a girl called Luna. Luna Lovegood.

- Really? - Lucius raised an eyebrow in feigned amazement. - Who would want this harmless girl?

- My commanding officer has been commissioned to kill this girl.

- Why exactly in the robes of the Lord's servants, you lowlife! Imperio.

- So that, so that suspicion would fall on the Death Eaters.

- Who ordered the murder?

- I don't know. Only the squad leader knows.

- What were you doing near Remus Lupin?

- He knocked me off the roof with a spell and was about to interrogate me.

- Where can I find your squad leader?

- Our squad is staying at the Green-Eye Tavern in Dark Alley.

- Finite. - Malfoy broke the spell with a sharp flick of his wand. - You're not lying. Well...

The man relaxed somewhat.

- You didn't lie to me, and I'm letting you go. AvadaKedavra. - A green beam pierced the chest of a man who wasn't even scared. - Insendio.

The room was filled with the horrifying smell of burnt flesh, in place of the body hanging from the chains, all that remained was a greasy cinders stain on the wall and a pile of ashes.

- My Lord. - Lucius Malfoy stepped into the spacious study from the flames of the fireplace. - I questioned the mercenary.

- It was a mercenary? - Voldemort's cold voice, tearing himself away from some ancient folio lying on the table in front of him, made the aristocrat wince.

- A mercenary from Alex Barton's squad. I know it's a petty commander of a mercenary squad of wizards running various dirty errands.

- And what was a mercenary doing with Bleck's werewolf henchman, Lucius?

- He was ordered to kill Luna Lovegood, but the mercenary failed to do so, and Lupin caught up with him and was about to interrogate him when your men took him.

- Kill Luna Lovegood? The daughter of the Madman Xenophilius? - The lord laughed hoarsely. - Who would want that useless and weak family?

- He did not know, my lord. - Lucius bowed. - 'Only the mercenary commander knows. I think we'll be interested in the fact that the client demanded that the murder be made to look like we did it. The killer was wearing a cloak with an embroidered snake-tongue skull.

- Even so... - The lord grimaced. A sinister light flickered in his eyes. - Lucius, get the commander of those mercenaries down here, I want to know who's trying to do business in my name.

Same day. Delacourt Manor.

- What's on my loyal knight's mind? - A soft touch on my shoulder snapped me out of my troubled thoughts. I looked up to see Fleur, dressed in a light summer dress, sitting on the bed beside me, having entered the room while I was thinking.

- About Remus," I answered honestly, throwing out all the emotions that had built up inside in one short sentence. - Sirius and Alastor promised to let me know as soon as they found out. And my teacher and I are going back to England.

- Back into battle? - A cloud came over Fleur's face. And for the first time I thought about how terrified she must have been to let me go on night raids, from which I'd come back burnt and smoky at best.

Ciaran, having found me sufficiently ready for combat in theory, began to train me to be ready for combat in practice - there were plenty of criminals, murderers, conspirators and other troublesome people in France. A fight in a smuggler's warehouse had convinced him of my readiness. Several times I had been awakened at night by Ciaran's call through the Through Mirror, and, cursing sleepily through my teeth, I pulled on a black jumpsuit, strapped on a belt of flasks and pouches, swallowed a bitter and incredibly nasty stimulant potion, and set off with my teacher to some dilapidated house or dungeon, where, in the company of one or more dozen aurors, I learnt to work as a team.

The harsh, taciturn French wizards, who at first shunned the unknown young man, gradually allowed me into their circle, the entrance ticket to which was Ciaran's recognition of me as his personal pupil. After that, I was not so much covered in the various complex and not so complex operations in which I had to participate.

The only thing I realised was how lucky we all were that among the half a dozen people Kiaran's group had taken out, there wasn't a single one even remotely approaching the power of Sirius Black or my teacher - if that had happened, it was unlikely that we would have escaped unscathed.

After the battle in the Department of Mysteries and the meeting with the old necromancer, I understood a little bit why Dumbledore was so eager to restrict modern wizards and force them into the narrow bed of ministerial decrees - real magic, for all its inexpressible appeal, was also incredibly destructive. A hereditary aristocrat mage like Godfather had incredible potential, and few Muggleborns could match them in power.

In normal times, in the spells allowed by the Ministry, the difference between a hereditary mage and the average ordinary Muggleborn was not so great, perhaps many didn't even notice it at all, but in the truly difficult and dangerous areas of magic - combat magic, dark magic, ritual magic, the only thing that made the existence of blood magic possible - in all of these the aristocrats could give most Muggleborns, if not a hundred, at least fifty points ahead. And the few talented and strong Muggleborns like Remus or Lily Evans couldn't even out the difference. Though aware of the reality of the situation and the reasons for the pure blood laws, the aristocrats willingly diluted the blood every few generations, selecting the most talented and strongest Muggleborns to avoid degeneration.

- If Moody finds out where Remus is being held, we must gather our strength, love. - I kissed the fragile wrist gently. - I hope he's still alive.

Instead of answering, Fleur lay back on the bed, resting her head in my lap.

- The main thing is to hope," she said, smiling as I mentioned the possibility of a possible attack.

- Everything will be all right. - I stroked her delicate neck and cheek. - I hope so. Sirius, when we spoke to him, said that, as cynical as it sounds, he was glad Remus had time to drink the potion that blocks his memory. Otherwise, the Lord would have found out both the prophecy and the location of House Bleak. And then our alliance would be broken into separate families again.

- Your godfather is a wise man, but he must be cruel, for he has a great responsibility.

- Yes, Sirius once said that by the time I return to England, I will have a force I can lean on to fight the Lord and Dumbledore.

- I'll go to England with you," Fleur's eyes were stubborn and unwilling to let me go alone. - I think Lord Bleak has another room in the mansion.

- You're knocking me off my feet, love," I laughed involuntarily. - I just wanted to remind you that I have nowhere to live in England-the Potter mansion was destroyed sixteen years ago, and there's no point in rebuilding it before the end of the war. It would be too vulnerable at first.

- So there will be one more occupied guest room in Lord Bleak's house," Fleur's soft smile was the answer to my words, and I sank back into my memories, continuing to stroke the girl's fluffy hair thoughtfully as she fell asleep.

"- Come in, Mr Potter. - An employee of the Department of Mysteries wrapped in an impenetrable grey hoodie with a blurry, foggy void in place of a face bowed and ushered me into the small hall.

- Good afternoon, gentlemen," I greeted the people gathered here, "Cornelius Fudge, Amelia Bones, Alastor Moody, Godfather, Rufus Scrimgeour. The godfather, the former head of the Aurorate, and Amelia Bones were sitting in a separate group, talking quietly about something, and the air around them seemed to be filled with sparkling dust - the barrier prevented them from being overheard. Rufus Scrimgeour and Fudge were emphatically not looking at each other - there had been a black cat between the Minister and the head of the Aurorate a year ago, after the Wizarding Tournament.

- I take it Dumbledore won't be in attendance? - I allowed myself a polite smile.

To my surprise, it wasn't Alastor or Sirius, who had long since taken me seriously, who answered me, but Scrimgeour.

- By the decision of all concerned, Mr Potter," the auror turned his hand around, "Dumbledore has been deemed unnecessary at this meeting. The prophecy is recorded from his memories, which means he knows the exact contents of the orb. And since he has kept the full text secret for over a decade - today's events do not concern him.

- That's good," I forced myself to grin. - I'm not sure our meeting with him would have gone peacefully.

Auror nodded understandingly, returning to his seat, and I settled down next to the three men who were already plotting something. My men, I was beginning to realise - Sirius, though he'd taken on the role of leader of the aristocratic alliance, was preparing a force to rival the Order and the Revelers, but a force that would be under my command. It was a responsibility I wanted to hide from more than anything else, but neither I nor anyone else here had a choice.

- Let's begin, gentlemen. - The department employee carefully placed a large crystal ball on the table, completely empty dark inside.

- Just a moment. - Moody jumped up from his seat and waved his wand sharply, casting spells to search for invisible people, animagi and tracking charms. - The room is clear.

- Thank you, Mr Moody. - The man we didn't recognise said nonchalantly. - Mr Potter, you will only need to dip your prophecy ball into this vessel. You will then see in it the full contents of the prophecy, a record of which was made from the memories of Albus Dumbledore. And with your permission, I will leave you now - I am not allowed to view the contents of prophecies.

After waiting for the man to leave the room and close the door carefully behind him, I walked over to the table. Alastor and Sirius had put powerful spells on the door behind me so that no one, not even a wizard of Dumbledore's level, could pass through unnoticed.

The dark gut of the ball on the table seemed to dissolve, letting in a ball of iridescent mist from a container on my belt. Returning to my chair I watched as the darkness in the large piece of crystal took on bright colours, filled with incoherent images.

Gradually, the image of a tormented woman with dishevelled hair and a completely insane look on her deadly pale, motionless face appeared in the ball.

- Someone is coming who can defeat the Dark Lord. This man will be born at the end of the seventh month to men who have defied the Dark Lord three times. And there will be no rest for one of them as long as the other lives. And this man will be given powers the Dark Lord does not know. But if they unite, if darkness sprouts in the soul of the future hero, the world will not resist the forces of the Dark Lord and his new follower.

The vision vanished, leaving an empty crystal ball in its place. Fudge and Scrimgeour stared at me.

- Now I realised what Dumbledore had been afraid of. - I managed to squeeze out a smile, amazed at the size of the hole I'd fallen into with a bang.

- I don't think that says anything," Sirius stood up from his seat, taking his position beside me. - Just because you might join the lord doesn't mean you'll actually do it. Dumbledore was just scared.

- 'At least we believe you're rot-free, lad,' Alastor waved at me without getting up from his seat. - And let that senile old Trelawney make her prophecies in the ivory tower.

- I don't think we should take the prophecy so lightly, gentlemen, especially the last part of it," Scrimgeour shook his head stubbornly. - It is a warning worth heeding.

Alastor rose from his seat and headed for the door.

- Maybe you're right, Rufus," the auror grumbled, stepping closer to the head of the Aurorate. - Maybe you're not, but we'll find out in time. What I've heard confirms only one thing, though.

- What is it? - Fudge finally spoke up, heading for the door, clearly forgetting that the door was still under the spell of two powerful wizards. - I think Rufus is right.

- It shows that constant vigilance is necessary! - The auror bellowed, driving his fist into Scrimgeour's jaw with all his might. The man collapsed in his chair.

- Stupefy! - The spell struck the head of the minister who froze in horror.

- Gentlemen, I am not with them. - Amelia Bones defiantly took her hands off her wand. - I swear on my magic and my life that I will not, under any circumstances, pass on the contents of the prophecy to anyone until Mr Potter or Lord Black releases me from this oath.

A flash of magic confirmed the elderly wizard's words.

- Well, Madam Bones," Sirius bowed jokingly to the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. - Welcome to our club of conspirators.

- Sirius, you'd better help me, - Alastor dragged the minister lying in a heap at the entrance to the chair next to Scrimgeour.

- Ennervate. - Fudge's body shuddered, relaxing. - Obliviate. Imperio. Fudge, you must return to your office now. You must behave as naturally as possible the whole way. You will go into your office, sit in a chair and fall asleep for half an hour. When you wake up, you will remember all the events in this room until the prophecy is announced. Next, you will remember hearing the prophecy, which goes as follows: "Someone is coming who can defeat the Dark Lord. This man will be born at the end of the seventh month to men who have defied the Dark Lord three times. And there will be no rest for one of them as long as the other lives. And this man shall be given powers the Dark Lord knows not of."

- Maybe we should ask him how much money Malfoy had given him, and what orders our slippery friend's minister had carried out? - Sirius grinned at the Minister's disconsolate face.

- Do it, Fudge. - The listless body stood up abruptly, recovering before his eyes, becoming the formerly confident Minister.

- Gentlemen, allow me to leave you. - The Minister walked out.

- Sirius, time, time," Alastor laughed. - I, too, would be interested to know the extent of Fudge's love of bribes, but it doesn't matter now; his head will be off after the next election... or even before, who knows? or even sooner, who knows?

- Incarcarous. Ennervate. Confundus. Obliviate. Imperio. - A series of charms released by Moody struck the Aurorat warden. His body was entangled in ropes to prevent the trained fighter from breaking free in that indistinguishably brief moment while Moody suppressed Scrimgeour's will, taking full advantage of Sirius' support as he placed a hand on Alastor's shoulder, sharing his magical power with him.

- 'Rufus, as soon as I give you an order, you will get up from your chair and go to your office. Behave as naturally as possible on the way. You'll complain to the secretary at the front desk about a headache and tell no one to bother you for half an hour. Then you get a bottle of firewhiskey from the office and drink it. Then you fall asleep for half an hour. When you wake up, you will remember all the events in this room up to the time the prophecy was announced, and that the prophecy we heard was: "One is coming who can defeat the Dark Lord. This man will be born at the end of the seventh month to men who have defied the Dark Lord three times. And there will be no rest for one of them as long as the other lives. And this man shall be given powers the Dark Lord knows not of." Do it, puppy dog.

- Isn't that a bit much? - Black chuckled as the puppet came out.

- I knew from my time as his boss that Rufus occasionally drank on the job. So this is hardly a surprise to him. - Moody laughed quietly and gloatingly. - And my Imperius will dissipate after a couple of hours.

- Madam Bones," Sirius turned to the still seated woman. - We are relying on your oath. I think you realise what might have happened if this prophecy had been made public.

- I do, gentlemen. - Bones replied without a smile, rubbing her forehead somewhat nervously. - Since you're asking me to participate, I might add that you were wrong to let the Minister go without asking who else in his department had received bribes from Malfoy. That would have weeded out a lot of traitors and sell-outs.

- Well. Fudge doesn't have much left... - Sirius gave the woman a hand, helping her up from her chair. With a bow, he handed Bones her wand, taken from the table. - 'There will be a new election for Minister in August/September and then...'

- And then I will fill Azkaban with bought officials. - Madame Bones retorted. - Not all the people in my department deserve the right to stay free either."

I snapped out of my memories, looking at the girl who had fallen asleep. The one that would keep me from turning into the new Dark Lord when I killed Voldemort.

26 May 1996 Dark Alley.

- It's here. - Alastor, hidden by a haze of disillusionment charms, was quietly making his way down some rubbish-strewn alleyway. He was followed by Sirius Black, wrapped in a cloak, and four other mercenary mages from the continent - Ciaran had generously shared his connections and acquaintances in Europe, so the alliance had no serious problems in replenishment, especially for gold and compensation to their families. - They're at the Green Eye Tavern tonight, but there's a whole bunch of Alex Barton's mercenaries staying here.... But they won't get in my way.

- You have a thing for mercenaries, Alastor? - Sirius snorted.

- Barton owed the law a big debt once," the auror replied without turning round. - But I thought it best to keep such a cunning beast on the loose, and keep him as my debtor. He has supplied me with useful information on more than one occasion. So, as a cancellation of debt, he will not allow his men to interfere in our squabbles.

- You're full of riddles, Moody," Black laughed softly, pulling his wand from his sleeve.

- How do you think I got to be head of the Aurorate without any connections in our aristocratic society? - The auror hissed, aiming his wand at the unremarkable door. - The Moody family wasn't powerful enough to give me such a position, and there were only a couple of us left by then. Behind this door is the back door to the tavern. We'll take a look around, and then we'll act as we see fit.

The cook, who had bulged at the sight of armed men entering the kitchen, calmed down as soon as he saw Moody's incomparable face.

- Stay quiet, and everything will be fine, understand? - Moody calmly walked towards the corridor exit. - This is an Aurorat operation.

- Okay, there's our client. - Moody's wand pointed at an inconspicuous man in a grey robe sitting near the entrance to the staff quarters. The transparent spot on the door, created by the auror's spell, was clearly transparent on one side only. - Sirius, you and I are coming in and sitting at the table next to each other; the atmosphere is casual, so our hoods won't surprise anyone, and neither will the fact that we came in the back way. And you guys are our security. Now, you're going to apparate to the front of the tavern, go in and sit by the main door, and wait for the signal. On the signal, you start picking fights with our client and his drinking buddies.

Same day. Hogwarts.

- And now, students, we will talk to you about one of the most important aspects of the magical world. - The grey-haired woman cast a stern look around the class. - In the last lesson of traditions, we will talk about what pureblood is, and what the differences are between a pureblood and a muggle-born wizard.

The students whispered quietly: the topic chosen by Augusta Longbottom to conclude the fifth year was indeed provocative.

- I'm interested in your opinions, students. - The woman smiled softly. - Who wishes to speak?

Several hands went up, including Hermione's and Malfoy's.

- Miss Granger.

- Professor Longbottom, pureblood wizards only marry pureblood wizards, and muggleborns are first generation wizards.

- True in terms of wording, but completely wrong in terms of substance, Miss Granger. - Augusta shook her head. - 'It's a well-established truth that doesn't answer the question of what exactly the difference is.

The blushing girl sat back in her seat.

- 'Mr Malfoy, please.

- Professor Longbottom," the blond man bowed respectfully. Having been sternly rebuked several times, Malfoy preferred not to mess with the head of the Ancient and Noblest House. - Purebloods are distinguished by having greater magical power, clan abilities, and the ability to use the reserves of clan magic while in their family's mansion.

- Getting to the point, five points to Slytherin, Mr Malfoy. But still, the answer isn't quite accurate. Although. I don't think any of you will be able to articulate all the differences right now, and more importantly, to articulate the reasons for those differences.

- Well, - Augusta smiled. - Let's start with a theory. As you know, there are muggles, there are mages and there are squibs - people almost completely devoid of magic, most often children of wizards. Muggleborns are people born, as Miss Granger correctly pointed out, into Muggle families. Their level of ability is rarely above average, meaning that many Muggleborns, forgive me if I'm present, are unable to use High Magic spells, some aspects of combat magic, and, of course, the generic magic of aristocrats. Muggleborns can achieve some success in ritual magic, but without the support of the bloodline magic that purebloods enjoy, it is much more difficult for them to do so. Write it down, write it down.

- So," Augusta walked through the classroom, looking at the notes on the parchments, "so, on some sort of conventional scale, muggleborns are mostly in the bottom and middle. A few really strong and talented Muggleborns become truly powerful wizards, but they, like purebloods, take a long time to achieve outstanding results. An example of such a talented Muggleborn would be Lily Evans, who later became James Potter's wife. Or perhaps you, Miss Granger, though in your case it is your diligence and effort that plays the most important role, not your outstanding magical power. But you too can achieve considerable results, though you are somewhat inferior in strength to most purebloods.

Malfoy, contrary to his usual behaviour, did not scoff, but listened attentively to Augusta's story.

- It's different for pureblood families. Families that go back centuries were originally created by our distant ancestors for the sake of preserving and multiplying their art. In the Middle Ages and earlier, the strongest wizards took the strongest wizards as wives in order to produce offspring with good inherited qualities. This did not work in all cases, but due to the fact that the families of wizards of that time had more than one child, a child with good abilities was always born. In some families there was a tradition of passing the majorate and the leading role in the family to the eldest child, in some - to the most magically gifted, and the main part of purebloods tended to find a mate from the most powerful wizards.

- After Hogwarts was built, that is, a thousand years ago, the wizarding world, in addition to the already existing families with centuries of history, there were many Muggle-born wizards. Trained at Hogwarts, these people too demanded their place under the sun, and gradually the world you know began to take shape. A society made up of ordinary wizards, an aristocracy, a certain number of businesses that provided the necessities of the magical world, and a governing body - at various times it was the Council of Druids, the Council of Mages, the Wizengamot, the Ministry.

- Thanks to the centuries-old tradition of purebloods that I just mentioned, most purebloods of the time were far more powerful and skilled mages than the muggleborns. There were three reasons for this - the inherited abilities of the parents, and most often they were passed on, the tribal magic already available at the time that gave purebloods new abilities, and the system of raising a child from a very young age. Until the nineteenth and part of the twentieth century, this scheme justified itself. Purebloods, then much more numerous than now, usually married purebloods, and every two or three generations they tried to take the strongest Muggleborns as wives or husbands.

The class murmured, the Slytherins, most of whom belonged to the older families, looked particularly disgruntled.

- That was exactly what it was. If you examine your family trees, you'll see that some branches have names in them that don't belong to ancient pureblood families. These are the people who entered the lineage for the sake of blood renewal.

- In the last two centuries, by studying the family trees of many magical families, the Department of Mysteries has been trying to identify the mechanisms of gift transmission. - Augusta continued. - It was found that in the marriage of strong wizards who are not related by more than five generations, at least one equally strong wizard is always born. The rest of the children can have both high and average abilities, and in the rarest of rare cases, occurring only once or twice, they are born as squibs.

A look of surprise was written on many of the children's faces.

- Thus," Augusta smiled. - Three facts have been proven: it is the hereditary transmission of the ability to magic. It is the harm of unnecessarily close marriages between purebloods. And the most important thing, which no one who has studied this question expected - the way in which in pureblood families clan magic takes care of maintaining the power of the clan.

- What do you mean by that, Professor Longbottom? - Hermione's hand went up.

- 'It's very simple,' the woman grinned. - If you paid attention, I said that a marriage between non-related strong wizards ALWAYS produces a strong wizard, at least one. And this is impossible without the influence of something that muggle-born wizards who marry muggle-born wizards do not possess - such wizards have had both strong and magically weak children. That is, birth magic.

- However, then, in the nineteenth and especially - in the twentieth century, something changed. In England, this was fuelled by the war with the Necromancer, the Dark Lord of the mid-nineteenth century. After him, the Goblin Rebellion of the late nineteenth century. The war with Grindewald, which swept across Europe in the first half of the twentieth century. And at the end of the twentieth century, the first war with Voldemort.

The assembled shuddered.

- What do you think was it about these events that affected the magical community?

- Professor Longbottom," Blaise Zabini raised his hand in surprise. - Perhaps you are referring to the colossal loss of life among wizards?

- Exactly, Mr Zabini, another five points to Slytherin. - Augusta shook her head satisfied. - In those one hundred and fifty years, the colour of the English aristocracy and some of the European aristocracy died. The purebloods present in the class could recall their family trees - how many families now had more than a single line? Virtually none. And just as few pureblood families with more than one child. Muggleborns are much more numerous, their world gives birth to wizards, and due to the fact that there are several billion Muggles on the planet, even a tiny percentage of wizards born there is already comparable to the number of remaining purebloods.

- So you're suggesting we do away with the pureblood laws? - Parkinson raised her hand.

- Not exactly. I'll reiterate that the pureblood laws and the desire to preserve blood are reasonable in many ways, but... There are differences between pureblood politics two hundred years ago and now. If you paid attention, I said that up until a certain time, generic wizards preferred to add strong blood of muggle-born wizards or wizards from other countries not previously related to the families accepting new members every couple of generations. And now... Now marriages of purebloods are made only with purebloods, which with the number of offspring of old families leads to close marriages. And every year fewer and fewer strong wizards are born among pureblood families.

- For the next lesson, which will be in September, please submit to me essays in which you will present your thoughts and suggestions on this topic. The quality and thoughtfulness of your suggestions will determine your grade.

- Interesting class," Neville exhaled as he walked out of the classroom. - I thought the Slytherins would explode with anger at hearing such descriptions of old families.

- To be honest, I've never found anything like that in any book," Dean Thomas had become a member of Neville's unspoken entourage after the dueling club, so he preferred to be in the corridors with his commander.

- You think so poorly of Slytherins, Longbottom," Malfoy said suddenly, ignoring the look of disgust on Weasley's face. - Your grandmother told what many old families know, they just don't say it out loud.

The blond turned round and walked briskly towards the corridor, followed by Krebb, Goyle and the rest of the Slytherins, who were unaccustomed to being quiet and not getting into any confrontations with the Gryffindors who had lingered at the door. An auror leaned against the wall, hiding a small pipe, and followed the group of Slytherins. Security had been tightened dramatically since the attack on Hogwarts, and now each class had an auror escorting them between classes, guarding the entrances to the classrooms during lessons. Neville knew that the gold of the Alliance and, strangely enough, some of the families loyal to Voldemort had contributed to this decision, so he decided to keep a low profile.

- What a ferret," Ron teased Malfoy. - "Many old families... don't speak out loud...". Snob!

- He's absolutely right, Ron," Neville turned to the redhead. - And your family knows that as well as anyone.

- What are you getting at, Neville?" Ron choked on his indignation. - What does my family have in common with that ferret?!

- Don't forget that your mother came into the Weasley family from the old Pruett family, but the Weasley family didn't have blood magic yet, and the Pruett family died out during the First War, a few years after the marriage of Arthur and Amolentia Weasley, when the Dark Lord destroyed the Pruett mansion, killing the last member of the Pruett family, the head of the family, Roger, and a few years before that, Fabian and Gideon Pruett died. So the issue of creating and preserving family magic is even more important to the Weasleys than it is to the Malfoys.

- The whole pureblood thing is a load of rubbish," Hermione interjected. - I read in a monograph...

- Exactly, Hermione, you read it," Neville interrupted her. - But for Granny or Lord Malfoy, none of this is history, it's real life. Grandmother has seen aristocratic families begin to die out over the last nearly a hundred years, and you've read a book by some young author in the library.

- But the whole world lives now without this caste and class prejudice. - The girl replied indignantly.

Neville glanced round, noticing that almost all the fifth year Gryffindors had gathered around.

- 'You see, Hermione. You're quite right to say that in the Muggle world, class prejudice and the caste system are a thing of the past. But the magical world is much more inert and lives by its own laws. And those laws, by the way, are backed up by magic. A Muggle aristocrat, even if he is a princely family or a descendant of kings, is no different from an ordinary person, except for the size of the bank account, and not always - there are many impoverished families with a long history. Well, maybe it differs in the level of upbringing, but that's not always the case either.

- Isn't it like that in the magical world? - Thomas asked curiously.

- In the magical world, a hereditary aristocrat is often more magically powerful than most Muggleborns. Given an equal level of training and knowledge, an aristocrat can win through ancestral magic, through inherited abilities to control magical power. Here is the answer - the longer the clan exists, the more strong wizards and wizards gave their blood for the sake of its strengthening, the stronger the offspring will be and the faster the emergence of that unparalleled in the Muggle world, which is called tribal magic.

- All the authors talk about birth magic, but no one really explains what it is," Hermione said unhappily.

- Most of the time, those authors are Muggle-born, and you have to be born into a Muggle family to understand the essence of birth magic. - Neville shook his head. - It manifests itself differently in all families. It's the ability to use a particular kind of magic, or spells that only the descendants of a particular family can use. It is a power that supports the defences of the family mansion, giving extra power to spells cast by members of the family in that building. A descendant of an aristocrat, being a powerful wizard, in his own house can argue even with Dumbledore, although the latter is called the greatest light wizard of the century.

- And how do Muggleborns get into tribal magic? - Dean Thomas asked with some derision, but Neville could see that the young man was tense inside.

- For women, it's to marry a pure-blooded wizard. - Neville grinned. - For men, to enter the clan by marrying a woman from a pureblood family. Thus, for example, Remus Lupin is about to enter the Bleck bloodline by marrying Nymphadora Bleck. Their wedding is scheduled for August this year. It is still possible to enter the clan, having received partial support of its magic, if you make a vassal oath to the head of the clan. The personal abilities of those who have taken the oath may grow, but the children of such people will be significantly more gifted. This tradition was maintained until the middle of the nineteenth century, and then the Ministry, having acquired a tool in the form of the Aurorate, forbade such a possibility, fearing the strengthening of old families at the expense of talented Muggle-born wizards. Although different cases are possible, because not only strong wizards are born among aristocrats. Krebb and Goyle are both much weaker wizards than their fathers, but it does happen.

- Neville," Lavender Brown purred with a smile, "you're signing your own death warrant - there are very few pureblood wizards in Gryffindor. Aren't you afraid of being drugged?

- It happens all the time in pureblood families, especially aristocratic ones, so most smart people have poison detectors, antidotes, and an antidote to the spell potion in their pockets, Lavender," he joked softly.

- Let's get started, shall we... - Alastor whispered from beneath a soft, sound-dampening deep hood to Sirius sitting across from him. Auror waved his hand briefly over the table, signalling the mercenaries sitting nearby to start fighting.

- I say they drink with us! - suddenly shouted drunkenly one of the Frenchmen hired on the continent. Shakily waddling over to the three wizards sitting at the table, he, carefully holding a jug of wine in his hands, shouted: - Let's drink to the health of Minister Fudge!

Perhaps such a shout would have suited him, but..... Once again he staggered, tried to grasp the table with his hand, missed, and awkwardly swung his hand with the jug, bringing the earthenware down on the head of one of the customers.

The mage fell silently from his chair, and his friends jumped up from their seats with a roar. The remaining mercenaries at the table rushed towards them, protecting the fallen "drunkard". Several sturdy men in identical grey-green robes stopped when they saw the imperious gesture of a bearded wizard with a cold gaze sitting next to them.

Alastor whispered quietly, pointing his wand from his sleeve at the back of the man who had started to pull his weapon from its sheath. The man fell like a dead man, and Alastor's spell was completely invisible, not giving off a coloured beam. The last wizard left standing received a straight punch to the jaw from the mercenary commander and lay blissfully on the floor. The commander, tossing the bartender the money purse he had received from Sirius, gestured for his men to pick up the bodies lying on the floor and throw them out of the hall into the street with jokes and laughter - such jokes were the order of the day in the far corners of Dark Alley.

Alastor and Sirius, who had followed the noisy group, saw the shouting mercenaries cleverly cover the face of the man the aristocrats wanted with a cloak so that he could not be recognised by the few random passers-by. Having safely dumped the unconscious bodies near the rubbish heap, the mages took hold of the "tongue" and led him as if the man had drunk himself unconscious so as not to attract unnecessary attention. Walking to the end of the street to the area where the apparition worked, the magicians quietly disappeared, taking the body of a very unlucky Roger Smith with them.

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